The moment he was able to, Eddie grasped Dylan and pulled him as close as he could. Arms wrapped around the human, he closed his eyes for a moment and relished the feeling. Something he didn't often feel, hadn't felt in a long time. It was all coming back to him now, slowly and sweetly, a feeling of warmth that went beyond physical heat. Like a generator in his stomach spreading the warmth to everywhere else. "I know it feels like I'm coddling you... But I guess I don't get the chance to care about someone very often. Or I mean, not someone I'd... really miss after they're gone." He sighed and buried his face in the crook of Dylan's neck, taking deep breaths of the life, the scent, the warmth he found there. Something he hadn't been privy too in a long time.

Oliver jumped out of the seat despite the cry in his limbs---they were tired but he didn't like to acknowledge that until nighttime, even after taking down a demon. He wanted to see everything that Emmery called home, every little hidden place and colorful corner. "Wow, how many people live in churches anyway?" He asked, staring up at the spires and the bell tower. The question, of course, was rhetorical, so he didn't expect or receive an answer as they entered.

He wanted to explore, but Emmery seemed bent on showing him the painting he'd done. His senses were overloaded with the colors the artist had strewn everywhere with no rhyme or reason, no real ideas to where each tone went. Maybe it was the canvases, or clothing, or blankets, or furniture, he could only see pulsing blurs as he was taken to the centerpiece. Himself.

Blinking, Oliver had to willfully stare through the twirling pool of colors, like a whirlpool in slow motion. "Oh... wow... Woooooah." He had to take another step forward but didn't quite realize it. It was like looking into a mirror with a few extra filters. "... Whaaat...? It's soooo... good." He blinked, finally, since his eyes were watering, and looked at Emmery. "Didja do this, like... today?"

The Messenger's words made him gasp, more then Eddie's arms around him, or the feel of his breath, so near tender skin. Dylan lifted his hands, one to Eddie's shoulder, and the other to the Messengers soft hair. He was melting. The very core of who he was, it shifted like ice and softly turned liquid so what he felt for the blond could fit in all the better.

"Eddie ... Edward ..." The young man started pressing his lips to whatever piece of skin he could find. "Don't talk about that." Dylan nipped at an ear, let his lips linger against a soft spot. The thought, the very idea of it ... He felt so horrible for making a place for himself in the Messenger's heart. The ache he would leave behind, Dylan hated himself for the harm he knew it would bring. The tears started to fall without his realization.

Emmery waited anxiously to see how the Messenger would react. He had started working on the piece the moment he had walking into his home, after their night together. It had taken him nearly all day to finish the piece, a day filled with painting, and not much else. Not even food. Seeing Oliver's reaction made it all worth the effort.

The grey eyed man smiled, and brushed his fingers through his messy hair. "Yeah, I had to. You've been stuck in my head since the moment we met. I thought getting you on canvas would make the feeling fade, but it just ..." Emmery shrugged. "It just made me want to see you again so much more."

Eddie petted Dylan gently, running a hand through his hair, down his back in slow circles, plucking now and then at his shirt---the stupid thing. He noticed the first tear immediately and felt as if he were punched in the chest. That was unexpected, the feeling, like whatever Dylan was feeling had thumped him physically. "Stop." He muttered, pulling the human closer. "Stop that. Do you think it's a bad thing?" Was it bad to feel anything for someone that was dead? Like Eddie, or Oliver? Oliver was an odd one, so no doubt he'd have Emmery wrapped up in him regardless of how distant he wanted to keep it. "I don't think it's a bad thing. I forgot how much I like the feeling of keeping someone close. But I'm worried I'm too protective and you'll... get tired of it. I don't want you to get tired of me, but I don't want to leave you alone very long. Not just because I'm worried, either." He borderline adored Dylan. A human that could see what he saw, perhaps deal just as well, too. He didn't want that to pass by.

Oliver closed his eyes, then eased them open and once again was assaulted by the color. His face, like seeing himself in front of him. Himself. "I... I guess it was a dumb thing to regret what we did, yeah?" Again, it was a rhetorical question, but he went on. "I didn't like the feeling I got after you left. Usually I just huff for an hour then I'm all good but this time 'round I felt way emptier than before. And you took that design you carved into me with you, so I didn't have that to look at. Kinda regretted that." He shrugged, looking around in hopes of seeing it. Emmery had carved gentle, swirling patterns into his back with one of his steel daggers, then pressed some paper or canvas into the resulting beaded blood after the scratches healed. The result was beautiful.

Everything made him cry harder. He hated himself, so much. The young man clung to Edward like his life depended on it, that closeness, even though that was what made him cry so. Dylan wasn't even sure if he could make the words come out, even though he knew he needed to tell him, Edward.

"It isn't a bad thing. Not for me." He pressed himself against the Messenger, sank into the warmth of Eddie's arms. "I worry about this being horrible for you... About how much you'll hurt when I ... when I'm gone, when you help me ... And then I'll just be another damn painting in that dusty gallery of yours."

Emmery smiled. "I kind of want to keep it ... But..." The designs he'd carved, they had been so familiar to him. As if he had painted them on skin before. They had appeared in his dreams, once upon a time. "Come on."

The artist waved Oliver over, motioned for him to follow in his steps. Emmery guided the Messenger to where the priest had dressed himself once upon a time. There were paintings leaned against the walls, in the drawers. His favorites lay out in plain sight, the canvas he'd used to save the art from his night with Oliver. "It's there. But ..." Emmery nodded to the one he had pulled out, a painting with scrolling designs nearly identical to the ones he'd made.

"I painted that, and forgot about it entirely until I was going through all the things here, trying to find a spot for ... " He shook his head. It was just so hard to say it, to explain it all with words.

Eddie shook his head and sighed, pulling back enough so he could see Dylan and regretted it immediately. His eyes were red and watery and he hated seeing that. And the expression on Dylan's face. "You worry about me too much." He sighed. "You're considering the future that's so far away that it shouldn't even be in our heads right now. Until you know what's going on I'm bent on keeping you safe, teaching you everything you need to know. Hell, even before the camp... You need to have an edge because even if these guys and girls are new to their... lives... they'll still be stronger than you. At least you'll have an edge... And I should be helping you, rather than sheltering you. And whatever comes, will come, and we can deal with that when it happens. Agreed?" Just stop crying, Eddie added in his head.

Blinking, Oliver followed Emmery where he led, into another room. It looked to be used for storage now---Oliver had never found himself curious about the layout of a church, so he didn't know much of what certain chambers were even called. He'd not been religious before, and he wasn't still, despite his affiliation with spirits and demons and even devils, so the idea hadn't ever crossed his mind.

"Oooh..." He moved forward, looking around at the architecture and then letting his eyes rest against the painting that resembled his blood on paper. Gently picking the thing up, the one Emmery had painted afterward apparently, Oliver stared at it. "It looks so nice." Maybe that was an understatement, but maybe they needed Dylan around to interpret what they wanted to say into writing.

Dylan shifted uncomfortably when faced with those green eyes. He sniffled lightly. "But I don't want to hurt you ... " He leaned into Eddie, hid his face. "I've never been so upset that I might leave a scar behind before." Dylan pushed away, and glared at the other man. "I have the right to worry. To worry about what will happen, because you haven't given me any reason to believe that you'd be alright after I was gone. So yeah. I worry. Because I want to make sure that you'll be alright no matter what the hell happens. And I've never wanted to know that about anyone before. So please, reassure me. Tell me you'll be alright after all of this is over, and I might just stop worrying." Dylan tried to catch his breath. He was just so angry, so frustrated ... so helpless.

"That's the original. The other one is the copy." He nodded to the slightly smudged canvas, were the blood shone as fresh as when it had been shed. "I didn't know what to do with it. Where to put it. So I copied it, because I didn't want to ever lose it." He shook his head. It was all just so inexplicably silly. So absurd. How could he feel so close to someone he barely knew? There was no reason for it. None at all, save one intense night when he'd actually felt whole for the first time in his life.

He slipped his arms around Oliver, and squeezed. "Would it be strange of me to ask for another night?"

Eddie looked down, closing his eyes for a moment. He felt tired, now, but wasn't quite sure why. Dylan should have felt worse, but somehow Eddie felt ancient. And two hundred some years wasn't ancient. It was barely antique. He lifted his gaze and pinned them on Dylan. "I will remember you every day." He said sternly. "I will dream about you nightly. And I'll miss you. But I'll be okay. You're unique to me. I've never been able to share my life with more than one other person in my lifetime and you... can share it with me. I'll be okay, because I'll be able to remember this. What we've been able to do together. I'll be fine." Eventually... Somehow he held in the sigh. It was a long way away. That end would be years, and years away.

Oliver stuck his tongue out as if tasting the air. His blood looked... different. Odd. Bright. Brighter than it should have looked, even with all his strange sights. Maybe because it originated from him, his body. Maybe his blood just had that... sheen to it. He let out a breath and smiled, startled when Emmery squeezed him. He squeaked, laughing and squeezing back. "I like that idea." He purred easily. "Hell... I think you can have as many nights as you want." Oliver was already addicted, because no one would push him as far as Emmery would. He loved that rush almost as much as he adored spending time with the colorful artist.

[COLOR="Black"]A sigh of relief escaped him. Dylan smiled. Slowly, the young man moved around, shifted so that he sat facing the other man. He leaned forward, and pressed his lips against Eddie's without a care for any passer-byes. Though he struggled with his emotions, Dylan resigned himself to accepting them, and his attraction to Edward.

He pulled back. "Soon ... I think .. maybe. I want so much to have everything I can with you." He was just so darn scared.

Emmery laughed, and tilted his head to nibble lightly at Oliver's neck. "Then I want tonight. " He breathed in, closed his eyes as he let his fingers play a tune across the other man. "And this time I'll stay. I'll be there when you wake up." There was more promise in his words then he'd intended, though he meant it.

Eddie loved the thrill he got every time Dylan touched or kissed him. It made him feel like something was going on that would last for a very long time. And that nothing would really ever kill him before his time. But he didn't want to go beyond that little bit of wishful thinking, and studied Dylan's face carefully. "You look like you're planning a knife fight in your head." He said. "You should relax... Whatever happens won't happen without your initiating it. And you can trust me when I say that whenever it happens, whatever it is, I'll make sure it's worth it for you." He shifted and tapped the steering wheel. "Do you think we should head home now, and discuss everything you'll have to understand? Or... we could stay here and be cited for public indecency..."

Shivering a little, Oliver leaned into the touch, the warm feel of his breath. It was like the artist didn't even care to acknowledge that he was probably going to smell like smoky wood and steel after hugging him. Maybe he didn't, and that was such a huge plus for Oliver. He squeezed Emmery, hopefully surprising him by picking him up effortlessly, then setting him down again. "It's been soooo long since neither party ran off the next morning. I like the idea." He purred, rubbing Emmery behind his ears. "You gonna come to my place, or we gonna stay here? You do need to meet up with Dylan after you blew him off yesterday, after all." He snickered at the thought. Oliver had left Eddie on his own more than once in favor of a looker he met on the street or in a bar. He was just thankful Messengers were immune to human diseases because he wasn't careful in the slightest.

He shifted and had the grace to blush. A few minutes later, the young man was strapped into his side of the car. Belt digging into his lap because he wasn't sitting straight as he should have been. No, instead Dylan was twisted around to stare at Eddie with wide blue eyes. "I vote for going home." It was hard to even imagine being taken in by the law for ... for throwing himself at Edward.

No ... He looked out the window instead of thinking about it. Looked at the nice houses, all in a row. They were cookie cutter things, near identical to each other.

Emmery laughed with delight. Suddenly he was up in the air, held aloft by arms much stronger then they appeared to be. Like a cat, he leaned into the Messenger's touches with a soft sound, the closes thing to a purr a human could make. "Your place then, angel mine." The artist wrapped his arms around Oliver in turn and pulled the dark haired man close. He loved the smell of Oliver, the after battle scent of metal and smoke. It made him feel ... so glad to be alive, and glad that Oliver was as well.. It made him appreciate everything so much more.

Grinning, Eddie started the car. "That's a good vote." He said easily. "I miss home already." And to call it 'home', rather than 'my place' or something that indicated one-sided ownership was... nice. It was like a little step closer to something they could have. Something that gave Eddie a much needed dose of normalcy. Because love was normal, wasn't it? He nodded to himself as they were silent, going home, back to the Messenger compound. He liked normal. Theirs wasn't as normal as most---their personalities would clash like they had been the past four or five days, however long it had been. They'd fight, but they had made it this far. Fights were inevitable. He smiled to himself, possibly looking like an idiot as they passed through the gates.

Oliver laughed, a bright sound clear as a bell. "I like the thought of that!" He leaned forward to nuzzle Emmery's chest and move back, reluctant though it was necessary to break their contact just for a while. Why this felt so different he wasn't sure, but it was nice. And nice to know he wasn't the only one, and certainly wasn't crazier than initially thought. "Let's get going then, yeah?" Maybe right home. He liked the thought of that. Wanted to clean up and waste away the day because it felt like a day to be wasted, with Emmery most definitely.

The moment they were in the driveway, Dylan bolted out of the car. The young man glanced back at Eddie, before jogging into the house. His heart was pounding. Pounding! The beat of it filled Dylan's ears and made him want to hide alone in his room away from sight. That was exactly what he did, though he didn't bother locking the door. Eddie would be able to waltz inside whenever he wanted ... Especially since it seemed Dylan had run into the Messenger's room on instinct.

He felt safe there. Safer then in his room all alone surrounded by his old life.

Emmery could only smile. He waved Oliver out of the church, and back to his car. Before hopping inside, the young man slid the painting he'd grabbed into the back. It fit very well there, small as it was. "You know, you're going to end up with an art gallery in your house if this keeps up." It was a rather funny thought. Em chuckled as he slid into his seat, started the car, and drove to the Messenger compound.

Turning the key in the ignition, letting the car fall into silence, and followed much slower. He was acting odd, Dylan was; before, he would have left the guy alone, but now he was debating whether he should go after him or not. Today had been a... breakthrough of sorts. Eddie stepped into the house and closed the door, then considered himself. His bloodied shirt needed to be discarded---hell, he wanted to get out of his clothes. He went up the stairs, then to his room, knitting his brows when he found the door closed. Pushing it open, Eddie found Dylan inside. "Prefer my room, yes?" He asked, stepping in and pulling off his dirty suit jacket, shirt, and tie and casting them into a chair near the closet. He felt tired suddenly, and his chest was aching a little. "You'll need more medication soon. Just say when you think it's best.

Oliver smiled at the idea of an art gallery in his house, his own unique paintings from a magnificent artist. "I don't mind that at all." He said brightly. "Oooh, and can we drop by Eddie's? I reaaaaally gotta talk to him about this morning..." He cringed when he remembered what he'd said. And just how he'd said it. He regretted everything that dropped out of his mouth then, but at the time he was sure he'd never see Emmery again.

(sorry this took so long)

The young man twisted around and lowered his head. "Now would be good." But the best medicine Dylan could think of stood before him. Slowly, he moved forward and wrapped his arms around the Messenger. Recollections of last night, of that morning, flooded through his mind and reminded him of the affection they were beginning to grow between them. That was the kind of thing that could never quite be replaced. It was the kind of thing Dylan had hoped he,d found once, but had lost. Time and again that had happened. But with Eddie ... with him it felt different. "I do prefer your room. It makes me eel nearly as safe as you do." And that was despite all of Dylan's stupid mistakes and recklessness.

Automatically, Emmery adjusted the car's route. "Sure. We better stop by before we get ... distracted." The artist glanced at Oliver and winked. They were going to end up wrapped up in each other all night all the rest of the evening. How amazing was that? Being able to lose yourself in someone else, someone you had only known for two days and feel like that time has lasted forever& It was amazing. Emmery never wanted to lose that all encompassing feeling.

The baby blue car came to a halt in Edward's driveway. Emmery was the first to get out. Though he wanted to wait for Oliver, he was more impatient to get a glance at Dylan. Now that he actually remembered his friend, his worry had renewed itself with force. Emmery pressed the buzzer, and waited. When Oliver showed up, he wrapped a hand around one of the Messenger's and squeezed.

Eddie smiled, putting his arms around Dylan and stroking his hair, letting his fingers trail down the human's back, and to avoid putting strain on the injured arm, he slowly pulled the human along with him and sat him on the edge of the bed. "That's nice to hear." He said, kneeling in front of Dylan and leaning to the side to grab the medical box. "You can stay here then. Maybe turn your room into more of a... storage place for your stuff. Or get rid of what you want and make it your own office." He pulled a syringe out of the box, much smaller than the ones he used on himself, and sat forward on his knees, unwrapping the silk from around Dylan's arm. "This is bigger than a traditional needle so it'll hurt a bit more." He checked the end, the dosage, and slid the needle into the arm.

Oliver jumped out of the car to follow Emmery, pausing to stretch. After such a workout they were seizing up on him at the sudden stillness that came with riding in a car, and it was more of a hobble that had him up the stairs and beside Emmery. "Phew, I should hunt demons more often." He grasped the human's hand and threaded his fingers through the others, leaning forward and listening to a faint call, then quiet thumping that steadily grew louder, then a turn of the knob. "Oh hi Eddie!" Oliver squeaked, bouncing up and down. Eddie got a confused look on his face, turning from Oliver to Emmery, and beckoned them in.

Dylan sighed. "Yeah. I like the sound of that." A sharp pain, pinching and digging all at once, stabbed into his arm. Then blissful numbness spread. With it wet a good dose of drowsiness. The young man shifted his shoulders, and let himself fall back against the mattress. It was just hard enough, with an array of blankets that showed Eddie's personality and preferences to perfection.

Maybe that was why he started dozing off, even tough he'd heard voices. One so familiar he could have recognized it anywhere.

Emmery shifted impatiently. He glanced at Oliver with a the smallest of smiles. It was hard not to laugh. Or to make a comment. The Messenger was just so darn excited about visiting his friend. The artist took note of course, of Ollie's stiff movements. But what he wanted to say was replaced with something else

"How's Dylan doing?" The moment they stepped through the door, he asked. His shoulders slumped slightly. Em squeezed Ollie's hand. He was glad for that, for the closeness and not having to hide how good it felt, even though they'd known each other for a matter of days. Two to be exact.

Eddie smiled from Oliver to Emmery, nodding at his friend when he saw their intertwined hands. Oliver could forge a relationship faster than a speeding bullet and more often than not it ended badly; but this one looked like it had promise. Eddie had never seen Oliver really hold someone's hand with an honest feeling, something that originated in his eyes and burned there. "Dylan's doing just fine." Eddie said, smiling at Emmery. "He just kind of dozed off a minute ago, but he should be awake enough for you to see him---c'mon, then." He waved, and Oliver pulled at Emmery's hand, nearly dragging him up the stairs after Eddie.

Oliver's tugging had Em doing his best to stifle a laugh. This time it worked. And Emmery was able to walk past Eddie with a straight face, even though he did wonder about that look in the blond man's eyes. But that thought fell away when he was guided into a room that definitely didn't belong to Dylan. In fact it showed no trace of him at all, save of course his dozing form sprawled haphazardly over the mattress.

Reluctantly, Emmery let go of Oliver and moved to settled down beside his friend. He winced when he saw the bandaged arm. Even like that, it looked painful. Gently, he shook his friend's shoulder. "Hey, Dyl. Come on, wake up. You don't want to turn into Sleeping Beauty, do you?"

"Wazat?" Blue eyes opened slowly. "Leame alone..."

"Not gonna happen, bud." Emmery grinned and ruffled the other man's hair affectionately. Once upon a time he'd entertained more then just friendly emotions for the journalist. He had to admit, he was just a tad jealous of Eddie. Then again ... He glanced briefly at Oliver.

Dylan sat up, and glared at Em. "I was..." He yawned. "I was finally gonna get some sleep."

"I know, I know. But come on, I had to check up on you."

"Well you did. So you can leave now." Dylan knew he was being rude, but he was in no mood to deal with anyone but Eddie.

Eddie followed after the two, sticking to the doorway when Emmery and Oliver entered. Oliver kept back at the same time, settling against the wall and muttering to Eddie. "So how's it been? You look a little rough."

"Dylan was..." He looked at Emmery and dropped his voice more. "... possessed. I barely got the thing out of him before it took full hold of him." Oliver's eyes grew wide and he breathed in heavily, opening his mouth until Eddie slapped his hand over it. "Don't. Even. Emmery doesn't need to be worrying his ass off over his friend." Only when Oliver nodded his consent did Eddie lower his hand and look across the room, wincing at the exchange.

"The painkillers I use for his wounds are kind of... powerful." He said to Emmery. "They put him in kind of a bad mod. Then again, I guess he's always in a bad mood when he's tired... C'mon downstairs, he'll wake up in about an hour, when it's not as bad." He waved to the human, and Oliver went forward, grasping both his hands and pulling him away.

Emmery rolled his eyes. "Fine then. Sleep. Don't expect me to be here when you wake up." With one smooth move he was up on his feet and looking at Eddie.

"You bet he's cranky when he's tired. Worse then a kid that way." He was all smiled when Oliver reached out to tug him along. It was no small feat, that. Em stepped to Ollie's side as they made their way downstairs and into the living room.

The moment they were there, Emmery flopped onto the couch and tugged Oliver onto his lap without a second though. He really didn't care what anyone had to say about his behavior, well except Oliver. "So why's he in such a bad shape anyway? I know you two were whispering about something back there." He looked accusingly from one Messenger to the other once everyone was present.

Eddie sat rather heavily, more like a controlled flop, in one of the chairs by the couch, watching with a faint smile Oliver sit lightly on Emmery's lap and put his arms around the human's shoulders. "Talking about his injury." Eddie said lightly, shrugging a bit. "He wouldn't take no for an answer when I told him I was going on a demon hunt and he'd do better to say back. He crossed the Veil, made too much noise and attracted the demon to him. The injury is from the demon's claw."

Oliver shuddered and rolled his eyes. "So stubborn. But don't worry, Em, Messenger medicine is stronger than human stuff. He'll only have a week of antibiotic treatments to deal with before he won't have to wrap the wound anymore."

"True." Eddie nodded. "Messenger medication is powerful. But the painkillers put you to sleep very easily..."

The young man smiled. Despite the fact that he knew his friend was upstairs, sleeping because of an injury no one would ever believe, he felt happy and content, entirely safe. It was because of Oliver, so warm against him. "Well he needs the rest, and believe me he wouldn't get it unless he was all doped up on medication." Emmery shook his head, and glanced at Oliver. "He really is too stubborn for his own good."

He grinned suddenly and looked meaningfully at Eddie. "You're going to have quite some time keeping him out of trouble. Unless of course you tie him up for a while and ... tire him out." The artist chuckled a bit, and stopped when he heard the slight tinge of regret in his voice. He had thought for a while that maybe ... him and ... ah but that hadn't happened, and there was Oliver now. Still, it hurt a bit.

Eddie rolled his eyes to the ceiling as if he could see beyond it. "Please don't tell me I'll have to put him on a collar and leash while we're in public. I have enough trouble getting strange looks without that." And he could just imagine having Dylan fighting him all the way, or actually tied up just to keep him from following Eddie on a particularly difficult hunt.

Oliver grinned, though it looked like he was fighting it all the way. "Ooh... Sounds like fun." He nodded sternly, resting his forehead in the space between Emmery's shoulder and jaw, closing his eyes to listen to his heart beating through his veins.

Em laughed. "He's alright in public, really. It's just ... Eddie, Dylan has a knack for getting into trouble. That's why he was such a good journalist." Absentmindedly the young man lifted a hand to Oliver's hair. He started running his fingers through the dark locks. So so soft under his touch. His expression softened a bit.

"Believe me ... I've tried keeping an eye on him, he just ... doesn't listen." Bitterness crept into his voice, but he laughed it off. He hoped Oliver hadn't heard, or Eddie. Emmery hated to think of any questions the pair of immortals might ask, and the answers he would most certainly give.

Eddie shrugged the words off, as calmly as he could bring himself to do. "Emmery, when I was still alive, I was in charge of five younger siblings. They damn sure tried to do what they wanted, and were the most hardheaded things I ever met. Beyond that, I've never met anyone else with as much willpower until I met Dylan, and Emmery, I'll be damned if he forces me to back down. I put him in danger once and I learned my lesson."

Oliver raised his head, looking at Eddie. There was a spark of curiosity in the eye of the other Messenger but he wasn't saying anything. Biting his lip, Oliver shook his head and ran his hand through Emmery's hair. "We can come back later, y'know?" Oliver nodded a little. "After Dyl's feeling better. And, y'know, awake." He added pointedly.