Marcus Keane (
pushbackthedarkness) wrote2019-12-05 11:48 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[tempter of the holy]
Marcus is exhausted.
He'd known, of course, he'd seen it dozens upon dozens of times in the people he's helped. He'd held them and wiped their tears and tended to their wounds and told them they just had to fight for a little while longer, so he had known, but he had never really appreciated the bone wrenching exhaustion that comes with fighting back from this side.
Every part of his body aches, but he can only feel it from a distance. Everything comes to him as if from a distance, as if he's not really part of his body at all, but something kept just slightly apart. Kept out of the way.
There are times when it feels physical, as if he's pushing back against some barrier, times when he's able to hook his fingers into something and claw to the surface, but those moments are getting more and more difficult to grasp. He feels if he could only wrap his hands around the demon's throat, he would be able to choke it out of him, but every time he tries, a horrible buzzing laugh rips from his mouth and he finds his actual hands yanking against his restraints, trying to reach his own throat.
Matthias comes to him in those moments, soothing him, pressing a cool hand to his burning forehead and Marcus wrenches away from the touch. He had been such a fool to fall for it in the first place, but he'd just felt so lost, so confused, all those memories pressing in on him, time folding over on itself in ways that should have been impossible. In the moment, it had made sense for Matthias to be there. If he was in Darrow and he had also killed Andy, then he could be here without Matthias and Matthias could still be there all at once, only he understands now none of that is true.
He didn't kill Andy. Not the man he is now. And when Matthias comes to him, eyes and voice and smile so familiar, he knows it's wrong. He's so damn ashamed of having fallen for it in the first place.
"You're not you," he hisses at Matthias in a rare moment when he can speak in his own voice. The others don't see Matthias, he knows they don't, but he can't let this stand. This thing wearing Matthias's skin. "You're not you, you don't belong here."
He knows the thing's name. If only he could get back to them properly, if only he could find a moment of awareness, he would be able to tell Sam, but he can't seem to get there. Every time he speaks the name it dissipates on the air and another lash is ripped across his back, leaving his skin bloody and raw.
Even the pain is distant, though. All Marcus knows is how tired he is. How much he just wants to close his eyes and sleep.
"Sleep, älskling," the thing wearing Matthias's face says gently. "Sleep now."
Marcus works up what little strength he has and spits in its face.
He'd known, of course, he'd seen it dozens upon dozens of times in the people he's helped. He'd held them and wiped their tears and tended to their wounds and told them they just had to fight for a little while longer, so he had known, but he had never really appreciated the bone wrenching exhaustion that comes with fighting back from this side.
Every part of his body aches, but he can only feel it from a distance. Everything comes to him as if from a distance, as if he's not really part of his body at all, but something kept just slightly apart. Kept out of the way.
There are times when it feels physical, as if he's pushing back against some barrier, times when he's able to hook his fingers into something and claw to the surface, but those moments are getting more and more difficult to grasp. He feels if he could only wrap his hands around the demon's throat, he would be able to choke it out of him, but every time he tries, a horrible buzzing laugh rips from his mouth and he finds his actual hands yanking against his restraints, trying to reach his own throat.
Matthias comes to him in those moments, soothing him, pressing a cool hand to his burning forehead and Marcus wrenches away from the touch. He had been such a fool to fall for it in the first place, but he'd just felt so lost, so confused, all those memories pressing in on him, time folding over on itself in ways that should have been impossible. In the moment, it had made sense for Matthias to be there. If he was in Darrow and he had also killed Andy, then he could be here without Matthias and Matthias could still be there all at once, only he understands now none of that is true.
He didn't kill Andy. Not the man he is now. And when Matthias comes to him, eyes and voice and smile so familiar, he knows it's wrong. He's so damn ashamed of having fallen for it in the first place.
"You're not you," he hisses at Matthias in a rare moment when he can speak in his own voice. The others don't see Matthias, he knows they don't, but he can't let this stand. This thing wearing Matthias's skin. "You're not you, you don't belong here."
He knows the thing's name. If only he could get back to them properly, if only he could find a moment of awareness, he would be able to tell Sam, but he can't seem to get there. Every time he speaks the name it dissipates on the air and another lash is ripped across his back, leaving his skin bloody and raw.
Even the pain is distant, though. All Marcus knows is how tired he is. How much he just wants to close his eyes and sleep.
"Sleep, älskling," the thing wearing Matthias's face says gently. "Sleep now."
Marcus works up what little strength he has and spits in its face.
no subject
But he's not here to help anyone go gentle in that good night.
"Marcus," he says softly, and then with just the slightest pulse of the shine, he repeats himself. "Marcus. You're-- you're doing so well. You're fighting so hard. It's time to let us help."
no subject
He pulls against the restraints, then remembers they're there and falls back against the mattress once again. It hurts to open his eyes, so he doesn't. It hurts to swallow, his throat dry and cracked, just like his lips, his tongue, and all he can do is shakily exhale. The name is right there, sitting on the tip of his dry tongue, but he can't say it. His lips won't form the shapes and his voice won't make the sounds.
Carefully he turns his head and finally opens his eyes. Dan is there. So is Matthias. He stands in the room directly behind Dan, long fingers curled over Dan's shoulder, and Marcus reacts suddenly, arching up from the bed, trying to get to him. Get him away from Dan.
no subject
"I'm not leaving you," he says, firmly, but with the gentleness inspired by deep love. "This thing doesn't like me, and I know why."
Exposing the vulnerable back of his neck, knowing it's so and that he'll be fine, Dan bows his head and kisses the raw, abused finger he's holding.
And then they're standing on a frozen highway that's piled high with snow, the truck pulled over with the lights on, though it's only dusk, and it's not actually very cold. Dan catches hold of Marcus immediately, pulling him tight. "This is real. It's a memory we both have, so I can access it." He cradles Marcus as much as he can, kissing his face. "Listen, okay? I know you're tired, but we're all here. You've got so many people who love you, and we're not letting this taken you away. I love you, I love you."
no subject
"I love you," he whispers and his voice doesn't crack, it isn't raw or broken. He sounds like himself. Maybe it's that this is how Dan will always see him or maybe it's that he wants to be this man for Dan, but whatever the reason, he's going to take it.
"I know its name," he says, but even here, no matter how good and safe a memory, he can't say it. His lips part as if to speaks, but the pain in his back flares and the word won't form. "I can't. It won't let me speak it."
no subject
He cups Marcus's jaw with one hand, and kisses him, stroking the pad of his thumb along the strong line there.
"I need you to trust me," he whispers. "I can do it. I can make it so you can speak, but it will be hard, for me to do and for you to see. I can give you an hour, maybe longer. I promise it's not a trade with the demon. I'm pretty sure I can do it, but I will need you to rescue me again." He can't help the smile, bittersweet even if the sweet is much greater. "This isn't self-sacrifice, either, by the way. Just-- just believe in me, like I believe in you. You're going to finish it, I know it."
Pressing their foreheads together, he exhales slowly. "Okay?"
no subject
So Dan has to be right. It's his body. Only his body. They can beat that.
"I trust you," he says, even though the words instil within him a deep sense of fear. Dan's taken such care to assure him it isn't a trade, it isn't a sacrifice, and Marcus doesn't know what it is, but he knows it's going to appear enough like a trade for Dan to know he needs to hear it isn't. He would never allow that. Never. He understands now, better than ever before, why Angela stepped in and held her daughter close and let that demon invade her.
"And I believe in you." He breathes out softly, listens to Dan's breath, then asks, "What is it?"
no subject
He leaves the part where he stays inside with the demon unspoken, though it's not like he thinks Marcus won't understand.
"An hour, and you come back to me and we turn the wheel again. You're the one that knows how to beat this thing the best. You're the exorcist. Get ready to fight."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
The demon was tough. It liked to remind them at every turn. It was tough, and Sam could feel the dejection looming in closer. They were all tired and all looking to him, and while he knew this wouldn't end any other way than with the demon banished and Marcus alive and whole, he couldn't help but absorb a little of that doubt for himself.
The basic exorcism rites weren't working, but that much didn't surprise him. Darrow's rules, or even the rules from Marcus's world, were not his own, but luckily, Sam was adaptable. Gripped in his hand was, not a bible, but the journal he'd kept since Betty's exorcism. In it were rites he'd written himself, compiled from various books and research Lisbeth had dug up for him.
It was working. It would work. But he still needed something. He needed a name.
Unfortunately, demanding it was getting them nowhere.
"Fine," he muttered, snapping the book closed. "Take some time," he said conversationally, "Then we'll start again."
He slipped out of the safe room, leaving the heavy iron door open for the moment. Marcus was restrained and that, at least, he could trust to hold for a while.
no subject
The first thing he does when he opens his eyes -- Dan's eyes -- after the turn is nearly tumble from the chair in which Dan is sitting. It would almost be funny, a slapstick routine, if not for the seriousness of the situation and the fact that he's left Dan behind in his own body. With the demon. Marcus stands shakily, testing out a different set of legs, finding the control he has to be tenuous at best and he doesn't know if that's just the fact that he's not in his own body, that it's different, or if it's something else entirely. If it's because he doesn't have any of this shine.
But his time is limited and he knows it, so he turns, stumbles over the leg of the chair, and lurches for the door.
"Sam," he gasps. It's Dan's voice that comes from his mouth and for a moment he's shocked by the sound of it. He sounds American.
no subject
"Hey, man..." He stood, reaching for his discarded cane as he took a tentative step closer. "What's up?"
They were all on edge, but he knew he'd never heard that particular tone in Dan's voice.
no subject
In there. Trapped within the shell of Marcus's body with a stinking, rotten, insect infested thing. Marcus hasn't allowed himself to consider what it might do to Dan, even if he heads back as quick as he possibly can. If he thinks about it, he knows he won't get any of this done and it will all have been for nothing.
"He can... switch," Marcus says, the words still sounding odd to his ears as they tumble out in Dan's voice. "Turn. Somehow. I don't understand it, but he needed to get me out."
no subject
He caught the other man by the arm, staring into the face of someone he hardly knew, but somehow seeing one of his most trusted friends.
"All right," Sam said, nodding, because the details of how it happened didn't matter. Not in that moment. "Tell me what to do, Marcus. I'm getting my ass kicked in there."
no subject
Marcus pauses, feeling strange and dizzy inside Dan's body, worry and panic still clawing at his chest. But panic feels different on Dan and he takes a few deep breaths to calm this body he's in.
"It isn't like it was with Betty," he says, looking at Sam. "Which is, quite honestly, a bit of a relief. Make it angry, Sam. You know its name now, just make it angry and then come at it with every last bit of the rites of exorcism. The traditional will work on it, I know it will."
no subject
Not like Betty, and he had to admit that was a relief, as well. Betty's demon was unlike anything he'd ever encountered, and he wasn't looking forward to the day it came for them again. This, at least, felt familiar— an insecure, desperate, grasping thing clawing for a bit more time in a meatsuit that didn't belong to it. It was weak, and maybe they were getting their asses kicked, but they wouldn't be for long.
"Man, I gotta say, I really wish you were out here with me, on this one."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
That fear is something she knows she can't let show when she goes into the room where Marcus is. So is the way her stomach turns at the sight of him. At least she's got all sorts of practice with this now, her composure even, arms folded over her chest. Her family has a history of kicking demons' asses, and being in a room with one, she's more impatient than afraid.
"Ready to give up yet?"
no subject
It grins. Marcus's face splits, blood leaking down his chin. A beetle scuttles across his face, having seemingly come from nowhere.
"And you just won't give up, will you?" it asks. "Even if he dies. You need so desperately to make up for what you've done. For the arrest. For those men your sister killed all because you couldn't just trust."
no subject
"And you know that's ancient history now, right?" she asks. It strikes a nerve, of course it does and probably always will, but she won't give it that satisfaction. "We've dealt with that shit. You don't have anything better? No sharper weapons in your arsenal?" She shouldn't be baiting it, she thinks, but right now, it's hard to care.
no subject
And so it lets Marcus come through. Just a little. Just enough for his eyes to clear and lock on Kat.
"Don't listen to it," he whispers. "Whatever it says. You know that and-" Then his back arches as pain wracks his body, his arms and legs pulling against the restraints. An anguished cry spills out and he's ashamed, wishes he could do better for those around him, but it just hurts.
no subject
Still, it fucking hurts. She's sure that's the point, but that doesn't make it much easier.
"I know," she says through her teeth, jaw clenched, eyes sad and furious all at once. "We all do. People who know what they're doing with all this are the wrong ones to fuck with."
no subject
"I know, duck," he says. "I'm so lucky I have you."
It isn't a goodbye, Marcus refuses to do anything remotely like that, but there are things he needs to say while he has the chance. Even now he can feel the demon trying to regain control and he knows he doesn't have much time left. With his teeth clenched, Marcus manages to hold on for just a little while longer. Long enough to meet Kat's eyes and keep smiling.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
Carefully, he repositions Dan's body in the chair he'd left earlier, settling him in so he won't be in danger of tumbling forward when he returns. Then Marcus pulls the chair close to the bed and reaches for his own hand.
It's a surreal experience, being outside of himself like this, looking at his body. His face is cut and bruised, his lower lip split in at least two places, beads of blood still welling in the wounds. And his eyes. His eyes are nothing like they're supposed to be, wide and orange and so angry.
"Dan," Marcus says gently in Dan's voice. "I'm here. I'm back. Let's get you out of there."
The demon in Marcus's body grins.
no subject
Dan reaches for another memory, one that's shared, one that they've overcome and he knows the shape of too well to get truly lost, and then he's sprinting up the path to the dark castle formed from Kagura's bones. The demon follows, and sensing where his own safety might lie, Dan brings the blizzard into the dark, cramped halls, turning them quiet and white, glowing a bit blue under the moon. He tracks down his own cell, and locks himself in, watching as the snow and ice builds a barrier between the bars.
The demon waits outside. It's very patient.
Dan doesn't have faith in God, but he has faith in Marcus. When he feels Marcus return, he shoves up to the surface, punching through as if from under a frozen lake.
The orange of the demon's eyes flickers to Dan's particular blue.
"Take a deep breath, and then think about turning," he whispers, and then he's back in the cell, the regular lock on the door replaced by a giant wheel, and he begins the heavy, grinding rotation that will bring them to the center again.
no subject
And when he opens his eyes again, he isn't in the room any longer. He isn't in the warehouse. He's back with Dan and even if he knows it isn't going to last very long, it's worth every single second.
"I told him," he says and his voice is his own again. He keeps quiet, not entirely certain what the demon can and can't hear when they're like this, together in this place. "Sam knows its name, he knows to make it angry, and he knows the traditional Catholic exorcism will work here. I gave him everything I could, Dan. Thanks to you."
no subject
Wrapping his arms around Marcus, he presses their foreheads together. "We did it together, and now you're going to get free from it. You're going to come home to me, to all of us." His voice gets a little wet, no matter how he tries to keep that note away. "I love you. I love you so much. You're everything, everything I was only meant to have if it's with you. I gotta-- gotta go soon, I just--"
He presses in and kisses Marcus, slow and urgent at the same time, knowing he's got to go but needing just a little more.
A little more.
no subject
"I know," he says and then he kisses Dan in return, hard and deep. "I love you. You have to go."
It isn't as difficult to say as he might have thought. Knowing he'll be alone with the demon once more isn't appealing, but he feels more confident now than he had before. He can be alone with this thing, he can take it on while Sam and the others do their work from the outside. Marcus isn't giving up any time soon and now, thanks to Dan, thanks to all of them, they have a real chance.