Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This house is haunted! I swear!” The voice boomed from down the steps of the massive victorian style home. It was late, the sun had already set for the day but the couple down below were bickering over a series of odd and unexplainable incidents. Such as objects moving on their own, shadows in the corners of lit up rooms and footsteps padding through the old creaky home. At first the occupants ignored it but after some time passed, they could no longer deny the occurrences and started to realize their home wasn’t normal. It had a very long history to it’s name and rather than investigate the problem, the occupants always ran away.

The little spirit at the top of the stairs watched as the couple fought and bickered on and on about everything. Talk about the residence being contaminated with negative energy just drew more and more problems out. The couple started to fight about their own daily lives and their negatives in their relationships. The spirit though never wanted any of this to happen. He watched as the couple fought, arguing to the point he couldn’t stand it anymore. Covering his ears with his hands and closing his eyes. A cup flew across the room and shattered against the wall. The couple fell into sudden silence. Wide eyed and staring at the broken glass before they rushed to grab their jackets and keys and bolted for the door. Minutes later, the headlights of their vehicle faded into the night.

He was left alone in silence until midnight came around. When the stroke of midnight hit, a portal opened up in the depths of the house and a black smoke rose up from it. The rickety old wooden stairs leading up from the basement groaned with every heavy footstep until a phantom being shrouded in black phased through the door. Golden eyes glanced around the room, taking note of the still broken glass on the floor. Soft whimpers could be heard up the steps at the first of the landings before the steps turned and continued. The black wisp glided down the hallway from the kitchen and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Golden orbs roaming over the translucent blonde male huddled up with knees tucked to his chest and his head buried in his arms. It sighed, drooping its head as it glided up the stairs and rested at the little spirit’s side. The black smoky wisps surrounding the phantom being stretched out and pulled the spirit against its broad chest, stroking gentle fingers through his soft golden hair. “Way, you’ve been doing this for centuries. You can’t keep expecting somebody to see you and understand. All you’re doing is hurting yourself over it.” The dark phantom murmured, cradling his friend against his chest.

“I can’t help it Miles. I’m so lonely. Nobody sees me. I can’t move on.” He cried against his friend’s chest. Miles was a demonic entity. He wasn’t the kind that ran around and possessed people though. Which there was an irony considering he was possessed by a demon known as the Walrider when he died. They somehow merged together into one entity but Miles remained Waylon’s friend since he was just a boy. Waylon was special when he was a kid, growing up there in that house. He could see the spirits that passed through it. Nobody believed him when he was younger and he was often called crazy and shunned. Some people would even call him cursed. His parents kept him locked away in the house, fearing for their son’s safety should anyone find out the truth. Especially since Waylon could never tell the difference between a spirit and a person and would often start conversation with beings that weren’t there. Gaining strange looks from passersby.

Being reclusive, his family tried to protect him from the spirits with religious symbols and blessings. They feared for their son’s safety but didn’t acknowledge the fact they were leading to his demise. Having nobody to talk to and being outcasted by society and forcefully hidden away by his family, he grew lonely and depressed. His health failed him and he became incredibly shy and timid. He became sick, not from a physical illness but he was heartbroken and so lonely, it led to his death in his early twenties. Passing away in his sleep. Afterwards Waylon occupied the very home he had died in. In many attempts to contact his family, they assumed they were being punished for what they had done to their son and soon moved away. Without the religious relics to protect the home, Miles who was a common occurrence in the household and Waylon’s closest friend, was able to return and to his despair, found his friend had passed on but was unable to move on.

He tried to help Waylon the best he could but there was only so much in the short amount of time he was allowed on this plane. The portal was only open for three hours every night. From the stroke of midnight until three am. These were often known as the witching hours but this allowed demons to pass between realms. He dreaded the fact that even these brief visits couldn’t soothe the pain that tormented his friend. He often found Waylon curled up on the landing, crying for some reason or another, always leading back to the fact he was alone once again and the occupants were leaving.

Miles remained by Waylon’s side, comforting him and holding him dearly for as long as he was permitted. For the dead, time passed by rather quickly, especially when against the backdrop of eternity. Before long he could feel the static pull of the portal beckoning him back to the otherside. He wanted to stay with his friend but he knew he couldn’t risk it. Demons stuck on the mortal side begin to decay and risk the chance of being discovered and exorcised. Spirits most generally didn’t have to worry about those troubles as long as they didn’t harm a human. Demons didn’t have the luxury to avoid worry. Their presence alone damages the human psyche and causes unintentional harm. Due to the type of energy that made them up. Some, well, a lot of demons were malicious by nature but those were the spirits of violent humans that transitioned over. Demons like Miles didn’t care much for humanity. They had other more personal reasons for crossing the realms at midnight.

“I’m sorry Way. My times up. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” Miles murmured, cupping Waylon’s pale cheek to get a look at his red rimmed eyes. The blue pools were disrupted only by the tears flowing over them. He sighed in defeat, knowing Waylon will still be there the next night but a part of him feared leaving him alone. Feared that someday that portal to Waylon won’t open and he’ll never see his friend again. He placed a gentle kiss to his forehead and patted his head. “Hang in there Way. Things will get better. I promise.” His phantom form flickered like static on a crappy television box, drawing a growl from Miles’ lips in annoyance. He closed his golden eyes and blinked out of sight. The static hum filled the house, signalling the portal was closing for the night and silence returned.

Miles kept his word and visited Waylon the next night but the blonde spirit was even more distraught than before. He overheard the owners talking about moving out and selling the house when the returned the next morning. In his sorrow, they overheard him cry out for them to “Please don’t go.” But in his rising emotions, all they heard was “GO!” That was all it took and they began packing everything up as quickly as they could. Grabbing only what was important and leaving much of the furniture behind, just like many other occupants had and leaving out the door. Miles comforted Waylon, hoping to get him to leave his spot on the stairs, to walk around the house but it only made things worse when he saw the empty rooms. He started to cry once more and a shelf nearby started to shake, causing a small clay bowl to slide off. Miles managed to catch it with a long wispy tendril and return it to it’s spot before resuming his attempts to quiet and console his friend.

A couple days later, a FOR SALE sign was placed in the front yard. They both sat on the front porch that night, Waylon huddled up as usual while Miles floated above him, hovering like a black storm cloud overhead. They both watched the stars, staring up at the night sky like that had for decades. Their beauty never seemed to fade and Miles knew that was one of the few things that could always snatch Waylon’s interest and leave him lost for hours. And for hours they were. Waylon staring up and connecting the dots in his head. Pointing each one out for the millionth time to Miles who by this point should have known them all by heart but as always, he was lost watching his friend. Mesmerized by the delicate humanity that dwell within those pale blue eyes. How there seemed to be entire galaxies swirling within them on their own and he wished to know every last twinkle he could spot within.

A dark shadowy tendril reached out to gingerly stroke Waylon’s hair. A comfortable gesture Waylon had come to enjoy from his friend ever since he was a boy. Miles wanted to do so much more than that but the static hum pulsed throughout the house as the portal called him back. He cursed the cruelty of time. The few hours with Waylon went by so quickly but all the hours between their next visit was always far too slow. An ache of eternities cruel humor ripping at his chest as he leaned over Waylon’s hunched over form. Leaving a chaste kiss on his forehead in parting before blinking out of sight. The static shock wave rumbled through the house as Miles left for yet another evening. Leaving Waylon feeling a bit lonelier in the process but his mood was better than before.

The next time the portal opened up, Miles was greeted by an excited Waylon standing at the top of the stairs where the basement door led into the kitchen. He was giddy, his saddened smile pulled wide with a grin that beamed at him. His body brimmed with energy which wasn’t exactly a good thing since objects started to tremble and float around him. Miles’ shadowy tendrils reached out to snatch at the objects and press them back down onto the surfaces to prevent anymore broken china and pottery. “Let me guess, somebody is buying the hous-”

“Yes!” Waylon squealed with utter delight, bobbing up and down on his tiptoes. His hands folded together as he tried to contain himself. Miles ran his fingers through his brown locks, which were as wayward and wispy as the the shadowy essence rolling off of him like steam. He breathed a deep sigh, knowing it was inevitable. Each time the house was purchased, Waylon would be practically exploding with excitement and each time his hopes would be dashed when that same delight starts causing problems for the new owners. His abilities getting out of control and scaring them off. He’s seen his best friend be crushed over and over again through a couple dozen ownerships and yet he always seemed to muster up the same if not more joy at the news of a new owner.

“Way, I think we need to talk.” Miles started when he heard the sound of a vehicle pull into the driveway. The tires crunching on the gravel as it rolled to a stop. It was the middle of the night and there were lights beaming into the house from a car. With a quick glance, Miles noted there were blue and red lights accompanying it which caused him to glance back at the timid spirit that was already hiding out of sight. What appeared to be a police officer was flashing a light into the windows and looking around. Miles edges closer, leaving Waylon tucked behind the wall in the kitchen as he neared the foyer. He heard the officer talking into the radio about there not being any lights or activity within the home now and that he was leaving. Miles narrowed his eyes and looked back at a very sheepish Waylon who greeted him with a nervous smile. “Way….?”

“I’m sorry. I got too excited. Some of the lights started to act up and I couldn’t get them to shut off.” Waylon blurted quickly. He watched with a nervous smile, his posture preening with dazzling innocence as his pale blue eyes tried to persuade the demon that it wasn’t entirely his fault. Miles’ worries only increased as they returned to the hallway and the demon led them up the stairs. Each slap of his shoes echoing with the renewed emptiness. Much of the furniture had been cleared out earlier that day by a moving company and the additional space allowed sounds to go unaltered throughout the home. The wooden halls urging them to sing throughout the corpse dwelling.

Waylon’s steps were much more quiet, a soft padding of barefeet across the dusty wood floors. The house was in desperate need of cleaning which Waylon would do if he had the energy to waste on it. Or the self-control to be able to move objects of his own volition. He could do small things here and there but it took a lot of concentration. So cleaning would be extremely out of place. He felt bad though, unable to welcome the newcomers properly and he did miss those tedious tasks from when he was alive. Taking for granted the slightest abilities such as being able to pick up a sponge or turn on a faucet. He really missed the feeling of a hot bath and a long soak on a sunny afternoon with the windows open. Feeling temperatures on his skin or well, ectoplasm he guessed it was now.

“Waylon.” Miles spoke firmly, drawing the male out of his thoughts before he manage to smack right into his chest. He looked up sheepishly with an embarrassed smile as Miles’ golden eyes narrowed on him. Noticing the way Waylon was spacing out. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. Seeming as Waylon was still in a giddy mood, he assumed it wasn’t too bad of a thing. Normally he would space out for long periods and come back to his senses in a fit of distress. He placed his hands on Waylon’s shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze of reassurance as if double checking his friend was really there. “Take a breath and relax. Don’t do anything too drastic and focus on staying calm. You don’t want to scare this opportunity off. Try just... watching them. Studying them. Learn from them and their presence. Their energy. Learn to exist around it instead of interacting directly with it.” Miles directed, giving Waylon a stern look. “Understand?”

Waylon nodded eagerly, putting on a stern serious face that barely hid the childish joy bubbling beneath. He knew Waylon never got to really live when he was human. The smaller blonde spirit  had it tough and he despised the fact he couldn’t be there to make it better. Then maybe….maybe he’d… Miles shook his head and disregarded those thoughts. He spent an eternity overlooking the what if’s of his existence and he couldn’t allow those to overshadow the present situation. He had to remain firm for Waylon’s sake. “When I come back, I want a full report on them. Alright? No detail is too small.” Actually he didn’t care about the new people all that much. He was just worried about Waylon keeping a level head and not losing control. Fearing that should his presence be known, they might do something to bless or proof the house that will stop Miles from being able to return. Just like Waylon’s family had done shortly before the spirit’s departure from the world of the living.

“Understood!” Waylon chirped, standing up straighter and giving a lazy salute to the demon. Miles sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he turned on his heels and headed down the hall for the second floor.

“Alright then. For starters, keeping your distance. If they’re downstairs, stay on the stairs. If they’re up here, remain in your room or whatever room is opposite. Stay close enough to watch them but far enough away to be out of sight.” Miles glanced at the rooms as he passed, even without the furniture, he knew exactly where Waylon’s room was. There was always a bed in that room, no matter who occupied the home, they never entered Waylon’s room. Or if they did, they didn’t bother anything much. The same old black iron bed frame remained, rusted in places from neglect and the collective moisture near the poorly insulated windows.

There was a hand carved wooden standing mirror painted white and chipped in places from being knocked around and aged. Fleur de lis designs with flowering blossoms were carved into it. On the back of the mirror was a black charred imprint of Waylon and Miles’ pact when Waylon was a child. It was meant to allow Miles to enter wherever Waylon was as long as no religious relics or blessings got in the way. Miles also had a sneaking suspicion the pact on the back of the mirror was why nobody entered the room. It had a dark presence to it that followed Miles everywhere he went but never seemed to affect Waylon. Once upon a time he could even use the mirror itself to enter as a form of portal but it took far too much energy to do outside the witching hour and two portals being open at once was problematic. It allowed too much negative energy from the other side to enter the home. Basements have always been a flood ground for negativity being below the earth’s crust so that wouldn’t affect the upper floors like the mirror would.

Miles remembered all the days he stood on the other side of the portal, unable to cross but watching Waylon. All alone as his family kept him captive in his own home. Locking him away because they feared accusations of witchcraft or that their son might actually be possessed. They never could accept him. Nobody could. Miles did though. All those decades ago. Waylon was the first to know he was a demon and not run from him. He thought that fact was neat. That the black smoky wisps of demonic energy rising from his body was beautiful and Miles had never thought anyone could ever come to appreciate what he had become. He had accepted that fact but Waylon was different. Waylon had always been different and that’s exactly what got him into this mess.

“Miles?” The voice broke him out of his thoughts, his golden orbs turning to meet the concerned gaze of the spirit. He took in the lithe sickly frame that had become the blonde’s permanent form in passing. He remembered Waylon back when he was healthy and happy. He was much more muscular and energetic. Of course that was back when he was in his early teens and hard work kept him busy. Waylon would talk to him for hours with excitement about all the new things he had done and learned that day working with his father at the mill. To think he had lost so much in that time, the neglect. The loneliness.

He shook his head again and sighed. Plopping down onto the mattress, causing a dust cloud to rise up from the old stiff quilt. It was stained with filth and was equally as grimy if not more than the floor. The mattress beneath had to be in dire need of replacement but he didn’t dare look beneath the covers. His shadows raised him above it, allowing him to levitate and hover as he pat at the space beside him.

Waylon’s concern melted into a smile as he crawled up onto his old bed and stretched out beneath the demon. It was just like the old days. He had spent hours talking to Miles like this, with him floating above. Able to stare him eye to eye. It was never uncomfortable or unnerving. Miles was his closest and only friend after all. “I promise to do my best tomorrow.” Waylon murmured into the silence. Letting his voice stretch out between them.

The shadowy tendrils from Miles’ form reached down and curled around Waylon, embracing him for a moment. Waylon felt the strong arms of his friend pull him close as he whispered back. “I know you will. You always do Way.” They remained like that for a long time. The shadows holding onto the little spirit as if a cocoon of sorts. Waylon melded into it, a faint white glow emanating from his body with the contentment, the shards of pale light sneaking through the slivers of space between the shadows as they held like that until the static pulse called miles back. Waylon was sad to see his friend go, but he knew he would return. Sooner or later, Miles always came back.

Chapter Text

The next day was full of excitement for Waylon as the new owner entered the home bright and early that morning. A moving truck had yet to show up but a tall dark haired male in dark slacks and a white button up walked in. His black locks were slicked back into a strip across the center of his head. The sides were cleanly shaved as was his face. He had a strong jaw and kind smooth facial features.  His stature filled the space of the front door as he squeezed through with armloads of bags and supplies. The little spirit watched from the stairwell, sitting against the bannister and peering through the bars as the male rolled up his sleeves before taking everything out of the bags and laying them out on the countertop in the kitchen. There were several bottles of water that were put into the fridge and some fruit was put into a new metal bowl, a small attempt to make the kitchen have some form of life within it. The male pulled out cleaning supplies and started by wiping down the countertops and cleaning out the inside of the fridge.

Waylon pressed closer, leaning into odd angles to keep his eyes on the larger male. He was excited all night long after Miles had left but now, seeing the male, he was nervous. He was a very big man but from the short glances at the man’s face, he got the feeling he was kind. His presence was different from the other occupants. He felt more open to the surrounding environment in a way, more aware of it whereas the past occupants had been oblivious to it. Once the kitchen was cleaned up and filled with the citrus scents of cleaner, the man filled a bucket with hot water using the sink and started scrubbing the wood floors. Getting down on his hands and knees with wet rags in hand.

Waylon was surprised since the man looked so nice in his formal attire and yet he was getting it all filthy with work. At the same time he admired it, the man looked so at peace as he cleaned. Just like Waylon felt when he was a boy. He enjoyed cleaning very much, it was soothing to him after a long stressful day. He was a little envious that the man could do what he missed so dearly but watching him was just as calming as well. Even more so when the man started humming to himself. The tune was a sweet old melody that Waylon was vaguely familiar with from years ago. He thought that maybe one of his past occupants had listened to it at one time or another.

The man stopped several times throughout cleaning to change the water in the bucket before resuming where he left off. Waylon eased his way down the steps to get a closer look before catching himself, reminded that he should be keeping his distance. Miles’ words echoing in the back of his mind when the man approached the stairs to clean around the landing and near the entryway. Waylon carefully stood up and made his way up the steps to the next landing tucking himself up against the corner. He thought it would be no problem but when he looked back down the stairs to continue watching the man, he found him standing straight up and staring directly at him. Waylon felt a sudden rush of fear jolt through his body, thinking he had been spotted. Not in the sense that he strived for. He held his breath and remained tucked out of sight, waiting for the man to go back to cleaning. “Hello?” The voice was deep and thick like molasses.

It, much like the rest of the man’s presence was soothing to Waylon’s ears. He wanted to say something back, even opened his mouth to speak but he clasped his hands over his lips to stop himself. Remembering the last few times he had tried vocal contact. The last owners ran away due to the misunderstanding. Waylon really didn’t want this man to go.

The man’s broad shoulders straightened as he stepped towards Waylon, taking the first of many steps before a knock came from the front door. There was the shadow of a very large man standing on the other side of it as the tall man turned away from the steps, but not without giving the landing a second glance. He dusted his knees off and made his way to the door, opening it to gaze at a man in a dark blue uniform. The logo of a local moving company was printed across the breast of his polo. The man had dark brown eyes and his body was large and bulky, not from an abundance of weight. He seemed to be well fit just more stockier in build and an inch or so taller than the nicely dressed raven haired man. The man in the polo had a head of short closely cut brown hair that was neat and resembled a military fashion. A name was embroidered beneath the logo. Chris.

“Hello?” The raven haired male asked softly, peering at the man in momentary confusion before glancing at the massive truck parked in the driveway. His eyes lit up with recognition and a warm smile spread across his features in greeting. “You’re with the moving company. Please, come in.” He offered warmly. The larger male, Chris, simply nodded, holding a clipboard in hand that was previously just out of sight of Waylon’s gaze. He inched his way around the corner of the banister, wanting to descend the steps but afraid of risking being seen or influencing something around him on accident. He chewed on his lip as the kind gentleman guided Chris into the living room where it had been cleaned out.

“I’m assuming you’re Mr. Edward Gluskin then.” The man started idle conversation with his customer. Giving the clipboard a second glance to double check the name in advance encase he had the wrong paperwork.

“Please, you can call me Eddie.” He piped up in a warm tone.

“Eddie, alright then. Where do you want us to put everything? Any specific rooms?” He asked, standing at the ready to get to work.

Eddie folded one arm across his chest and caressed his chin thoughtfully with the other, looking around the house. He had been hoping to get the first floor completely cleaned but he could see that wasn’t going to be happening soon. He could at least work on the upstairs next while the weather was still warm out. “The boxes can all be stacked in here. I’ll have to go through them anyway. The furniture has all been tagged with what rooms it needs to be taken to. Does that sound alright?”

The large bulky male nodded with a grunt of approval. “That’s fine. Me and the boys will have it taken care of in a jiffy.” He set the paperwork off to the side in the kitchen for Eddie to look over and fill out. The front door was wedged open while the men brought in box after box. It wasn’t very much in all honesty when it was stacked up in the living room. The truck was very big but the largest pieces were heavy wooden antique furniture that was well taken care of over the years. It was rather sparse in the large home even once the movers finished their work and Eddie signed them off on their job and paid them for their help. Waylon spent most of the time hiding in his room, unable to watch Eddie throughout the busy hour or so.

When the house had calmed down and the men left, Waylon made his way back down the stairs to find Eddie had turned on an old timey record player that was carefully positioned in the corner of the living room. The music was lovely and very classical, mostly instrumental or reminded Waylon of old television shows in black and white where gentlemen dance with lovely ladies at elegant balls or noble dances. Eddie hummed softly along to it, the songs echoing throughout the house and filling every room with distant sound. This occupant was looking to be Waylon’s most favorite by far.

As the day went on to mid-afternoon, Eddie had gone through a good portion of the boxes, mostly the ones labeled kitchen. There was a massive trunk that had been carried up the stairs earlier in the day that consisted of the man’s clothing and Waylon watched as he changed out of his dressier clothes into a pair of navy blue jogging sweats and a white long sleeve shirt. The sleeves were once again pushed up to his elbows, a little less neat as he carried boxes up the stairs to the rooms above. Starting with the toiletries. Waylon lingered down the hall or in the rooms adjacent to watch the man unpack each box. Neatly folded and pressed clothes hung in an old fashion wooden wardrobe with thick dark wood. The bed frame for the man’s bed matched that same wood and much of the age along with the trunk at the end filled with clothes and quilts for the colder months.

The music continued to play throughout the house for a couple more hours, Eddie would change out the tracks when he went down for more boxes before he finally turned the record player off. He gave a soft sigh of relief, seeing a good portion of his belongings were already taken care of but he grumbled softly about not getting a chance to finish scrubbing the floors. Waylon watched the man leave to step out onto the front porch, sitting down where he and Miles had spent so many nights watching the stars. His presence lingering at the bottom of the stairs, far enough from Eddie to stay out of sight. The raven haired man reached into his pocket and made a few phone calls, his demeanor was warm and happy but from Waylon’s point of view, the man just looked tired. The longer the day wore on, the more worn out he appeared as if he was losing energy or whatever mask he had adorned that morning was fading away to show the truth behind it.

The man stayed on the porch for half an hour, soaking up the warmth of the sun and watching the community go about their routines. Kids rode their bikes up and down the street, people were out walking their dogs or jogging in the peaceful late afternoon air. Waylon noted from the clock in the kitchen that it was nearing dinner time which was odd since the man hadn’t had anything to stock the kitchen yet. That is until a car pulled up into the driveway and a teenager in a red uniform got out of it, walking up the sidewalk path to the porch and glancing warily between the man sitting on the steps waiting and the house itself. Eddie stood up and dug out his wallet to pay the young man as he handed over plastic bags filled with plastic take out boxes. “You the new owner?” The young man asked curiously, Eddie noted the nervousness in the teen’s behavior and frowned momentarily.

“Yes I am. I just moved in today.” He said, his words were careful as he gave the teenage boy a quizzical look. “Is there something wrong with the place I should know about?”

The boy glanced from Eddie to the door, gazing past the front window and inside almost directly at Waylon. His eyes warily flickered back to Eddie’s concerned expression as he admitted. “Just..that the place is haunted. Always has been. Nobody stays long. The place is spooky as hell.”

Eddie gave a soft laugh, his expression relaxing at that. His hand gripped the takeout bag as he handed over the tip to the teen. “Oh, that’s all? It felt fine to me. I guess I’ll have to be extra careful then.” Eddie chuckled, seeing the teen frown at that. He gave the courtesy line to thank him for his service and bid him a good night before the car pulled away and Eddie made his way back inside. Waylon bolted back up the stairs and resumed his position of hiding just around the corner of the banister.

Eddie wasn’t the kind to sit around a television in the evenings or at all to be honest. The man didn’t even own a t.v. He would turn on his record player and lay out a handful of documents on the kitchen table, sitting hunched over his meal as he read over the papers. The soft sounds of a human presence comforted Waylon and curbed his curiosity. The man’s energy alone kept Waylon abated for the time being. There wasn’t much excitement to feed off of or to worry about getting accidentally riled up by.

After dinner, Eddie wrote up a To-Do list, organized his documents on the kitchen counter and took a handful of boxes upstairs. Waylon kept his distance as night fell and the man showered and changed into a plain white t-shirt and a pair of briefs to sleep in. Yet he didn’t go to sleep right away. He was still busy sorting through boxes and bags. Only his activity was confined to the master bedroom, right across the hall from Waylon’s room. Waylon waited downstairs in the kitchen, sitting right outside of the basement door until the stroke of midnight.

He was excited to tell Miles about the new occupant but not like he had been the night before. He was content and happy, a smile spread across his face as he grinned to himself, thinking about what he was going to say. The static hum of the portal opening flickered through the house and Miles' footsteps sounded up to the door. The shadowy wisps surrounded Waylon’s form in a greeting embrace as the demon rested his chin on Waylon’s shoulder, sitting behind him. “How was the first day with the new occupants?” He hummed.

“Occupant. Singular. And he’s really nice.” Waylon grinned, turning towards Miles as he rested a hand on his cheek, gingerly stroking it with familiarity. Normally the days are so long and dull but today it went by faster than he anticipated. He was content and relaxed. Something Miles noticed rather quickly about his friend. It was almost as if he were seeing the old Waylon again. The boy he had met so long ago, sitting on the floor of his bedroom in idle conversation. A peaceful human being with a heart of gold. Now that was reflected in this timid little spirit.

“I’m assuming you followed my directions then if he’s still here.” Miles asked, shifting around so he and Waylon were facing each other.

Waylon gave a nod, jerking his head in exaggeration. “I think you’d really like him.”

“Really now? Well, if he has your seal of approval, then I should give it a second opinion. I want to make sure this guy is right for you. Don’t want any nasty influences mucking up the place.” Waylon snorted at the remark, breaking up into a fit of laughter. Miles gave a cheeky smile as they both stood up. The demon’s legs faded into the long billowy shadows to prevent from making any sounds going up the stairs, gesturing for Waylon to lead the way.

Even in the quiet of the house, it didn’t feel as lonely to Waylon as they made their way up to the second floor. He heard muffled sounds of movement and noticed the bedroom door was partially closed. Just a gap remained for peering inside. Eddie was still adding things around the room. Looking over small knick knacks and setting out pictures on the nightstand beside the bed. One of the photos was of a beautiful older woman with long black hair flowing over her shoulders. She was sitting in a chair with her hands neatly folded in her lap. Eddie stood behind her with a hand resting on her shoulder in a loving gesture. The photo looked to have been taken in a church or a chapel. The woman looked considerably older than Eddie leaving Waylon to assume it was his mother or an elder female family member of sorts. Maybe even a grandmother or aunt. Somebody with shared blood at least since they shared much of the same looks. Namely their soft blue eyes, raven hair and the tender loving expressions on their faces. They both seemed to have warm welcoming personalities.

The two were huddled outside the door, peering through the crack, mostly Miles who was determined to get a better look at the man Waylon seemed enamored with. He didn’t look like anything special if the demon was being honest. He moved a little closer to the door, causing it to move open just an inch or so more drawing a light creak from it. The man froze in place, his head snapping up as he turned around to face the doorway. Those blue eyes narrowed at the crack of space, the darkness gathered on the other side, where the small shards of light from the bulb above snuck through. He noticed something was there but he wasn’t sure what.

Miles returned the studious gaze with his golden orbs, taking in the sight before his eyes widened. He reached out to grip Waylon’s shoulder when he was suddenly ripped away from his friend’s reach. The raven haired male had raised his hand to show a crucifix he was in the midst of placing on the wall above the bed. His lips were moving silently in the form of a prayer. Any normal person uttering god’s words wouldn’t have the power behind it to force Miles back. Only holy men and women had the faith and the strength of will to drive a demon off. As the man finished his words, Miles was struck back again, drawing Waylon’s attention with concern. The demon’s body flickered in place like static and the portal pulsed angrily. Sending a jolt of energy through Miles. His body shuddered as he struggled to remain present. “Oh fuck! Not again. This can’t be fucking happening again.” Miles screamed as he reached out for Waylon before another jolt of energy pried the demon back down the hall. Miles was struggling to regain ground, pulled on harshly by a powerful invisible force. It was all too familiar, the fear and the force drawing him back. The anger of the portal as it was altered before it’s natural timing. The terror in his eyes was only reflected and multiplied within Waylon’s. He scrambled for Miles’ hand but was too late as another jolt of energy rippled throughout the house, followed by the static shock wave of the portal closing for the night. The pained screams of Miles echoed through the house as he was forced out, shaking Waylon right to his very core.

He heard the door creak open but it was too late for him to hide from sight now. The walls and doorways around him trembled as his emotions started running high, the house groaning from the upset of energy within. Tears formed in his eyes as his distress only increased. His body was moving before he could even think, running to the one place he knew was safe for him. The untouched room. The door slamming shut behind him, momentarily cutting off the man that had followed.

Eddie’s crucifix was left on the bed, instead a rosary was withdrawn from around his neck, winding it around his fingers, he followed the strange white anomaly that rushed into the room. A normal person would have been scared out of their wits at this point but this wasn’t Eddie’s first spiritual encounter. Nor was it his first run in with a demon.

As he pushed open the door to the room, it took a little effort to move against the energy rising within. Goosebumps rushed over his body and every hair on his arms was standing on end. His deep blue eyes glanced around the room, the sound of crying was muffled almost like radio static was breaking through it. As the minutes ticked by, it became clearer and clearer as the spirit got more upset. He pinpointed it to the corner of the room where the end of the bed was. Tucked away into the corner was a phantom presence all in white.

A white shirt and a pair of white pants was all Waylon wore, having been what he died in so long ago. The nights were growing colder that time of year and he was fully clothed as he slept. Not knowing this would be his attire for an eternity. His small form was pressed up as tightly as possuble to the rusted black iron frame of the bed, his arms wrapped around himself as a sob broke through his chest. Tears ran like rivers down his cheeks as he buried his face in his arms. His body trembling and terrified. The last time he had lost Miles, he was just a boy and his family had blessed the house to lock Miles out. This time Miles wasn’t here to protect him and he feared this man, the same man he found he enjoyed so much might be the one to finally end his existence. It was a cruel bit of irony that was cold and jagged, ripping through his lifeless chest.

He heard the creak of the larger man’s weight shifting on the floorboards. He felt the presence of the holy relic in hand, the energy of it pressing against his own. A force that threatened power far beyond Waylon’s. “Please...stop.”  His voice was choked out as he pleaded, despite knowing humans never could hear him. At least not correctly. “I d-don’t want-tah diiieee.” He sniffled and bawled. His words broken in between.

Eddie was startled by this. As he had neared the spirit, he got a better look at the man. Not directly at least, the spirit itself remained a mist that lingered in place. A fog like energy with light illuminating it. The longer he lingered, the louder and more clearer the being became. He heard the sobs that came from the spirit, sending a sudden jolt of guilt through his body and taking him aback. He looked down at the rosary in hand then back up at the fog, closing his eyes. He took a long slow deep breath, focusing on the energy that was present in the room. There was a heavily negative energy within but the spirit in front of him was not the cause. He crouched down before the spirit, tucking his rosary away to give it a good long ‘look’. Seeing it better through his mind’s eye. He watched the features form, the frail pale body curled up and trembling. The sobbing was less like static and sounded like a real person crying before him. The longer he focused on the energy the easier it was too hold onto it and see the spirit for what it really was. A frightened young man.

The guilt that struck through the larger male was undeniable. He had caused this presence such an immense upset and he knew it. There was no way he hadn’t. He could also tell this was the same presence as the faint one he had been sensing all through the house all day long. “You’ve been watching me.” Eddie murmured, his hands clasped together before him. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. Can you look at me?” Eddie’s voice was softer, sweeter as if he were speaking with a small frightened child.

Waylon’s crying had faded a little at the kinder gentler words. He had not been expecting them to come from the man. He refused to let his guard down though. This man sent Miles away and he had a power that could hurt him too. He knew that now and reminded himself of it as the male asked him the question. Slowly he looked up at Eddie, even though he was crouched down to Waylon’s eye level, the man was still very huge and frightening to Waylon. This morning he seemed like a gentle giant but now it was terrifying. Those blue eyes were soft when their eyes met but Waylon refused to let that win him over. The kinder features had returned but Waylon was wary. “Good boy. Thank you for that. Can you tell me your name?” He reached a hand out to Waylon, a gesture of good intent but that didn’t stop the small blonde spirit  from flinching away from it. The hand was retracted a little bit as the man spoke up. “Don’t worry. There’s no need to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Liar.” Waylon’s quivering lips let loose before he had a chance to stop himself. The word was pitiful in the open air between them. Sinking heavily in the enclosed space. “Y-you hurt m-my fri-friend.” Waylon stumbled over his words anxiously.

“Your friend? Who was your friend?” Eddie asked in confusion. The prayer he made with the crucifix was a blessing to protect the room from demonic presences. He was forming a safe space within the home for him to return to. A sanctuary of sorts. If he had harmed any spirits with it, it was unintentional. Demons on the other hand, that was the whole point of the blessing.

Waylon didn’t answer the question. He was hesitant to speak about Miles. Knowing others wouldn’t understand the demon’s intentions. He lapsed into silence once more but Eddie was patient with the little spirit. “If you don’t want to talk about your friend, that’s alright. Can you at least tell me your name? Please.”

“Wa-Waylon. But my friend calls me Way.” Waylon murmured, his pale blue orbs glancing down at the offered hand still reaching for him. He shifted in place, tucking his knees up closer and moving his arms to wrap around them. He used one hand to scrub the tears from his face as he sniffled again.

Chapter Text

“Thank you Waylon. I’m sorry if I scared you.” Eddie gave a sympathetic smile. “Would you like to come out from that corner? It might be a little more comfortable on the bed.” Waylon shook his head at the words, continuing to refuse the man’s advances or attempts. He didn’t want to make the mistake of trusting him. Or of showing any sign of budging. Eddie sighed and shook his head. He lowered himself down from his crouch to sitting completely on the floor beside the spirit. Positioning himself so they were almost side by side. Eddie’s size made it hard to be any closer to the boy without pressing on him or invading his energy field.

“I really am sorry that I frightened you Waylon.” He explained, running his fingers through his raven locks. “What I was doing earlier, that was to protect against negative spirits like demons.” He glanced around the room as he spoke, his deep blue orbs resting on the mirror in the corner of the room. He could almost see the dark energy that occupied that corner. The shadows were thicker there just beyond the frame. The mirror itself looked smudged and tainted. To the normal human eye, it was a crystal clear antique mirror in terrific shape for it’s age. But to Eddie, it was unsettling.

Eddie wasn’t a normal man. He was born with a special gift, much like Waylon’s. He could sense out spirits in an area, focusing on their energies but he couldn’t outright see them. At least not with the naked eye. He saw them through his mind’s eye. Waylon’s gift, he could see them outright with the naked eye. To Waylon, they weren’t spirits. They looked like normal human beings. Solid figures in full form. Waylon’s abilities were more advanced. Far stronger than Eddie’s.

“But not all demons are bad!” Waylon blurted before he could catch himself.

Eddie narrowed his eyes at the spirit, confusion knitting his brows together. “Waylon, demons are bad.”

“Miles isn’t!” Waylon shot back sharply. The lights in the room flickered on and off for a minute before he could settle himself back down. Breathing slowly as he attempted to calm his rising emotions. “Miles is my friend. He’s my only friend.” He said in a meeker tone.

“Waylon…” Eddie began, seeing the saddened pale blue orbs staring back at him. He sighed. “Miles is a demon then?”

Waylon gave a slow nod of affirmation. He chewed on his bottom lip with worry. ‘It shouldn’t hurt to say it. Miles is gone anyway. He can’t be hurt like this.’ He reminded himself.  “What did you and Miles do? Did he ever try to hurt you? Or make you do things that seem wrong?”

Waylon’s eyes widened at the questions and he shook his head fervently. “No! Miles would never hurt me.” He was appalled that the male would even ask such a preposterous question. “He visits me every night to make sure I’m not alone. He was there before I died. He tried to protect me but my family sent him away just like you did.”

“Like I did? You mean with the crucifix?” Waylon nodded in affirmation once more. “Did they have a priest perform it?” Once again a nod and Waylon squirmed a bit uncomfortably in place. Eddie rolled this information over in his mind. “Why did they send him away?”

“Because I could see him. And others like him. I could talk to them like you are with me right now. It scared my parents and they shut me away. Locked me in this room until the day I died. Miles tried to stop them, he tried to save me but they sent him away too.” Waylon curled back up on himself and rested his head in his folded arms. He sniffled softly, the tears forming in the corners of his eyes once more. Even after all these years, the betrayal from his family hurt just as freshly as the day it happened. Miles was his only comfort until they took him away as well. “Please, give me my friend back. I can’t stand being alone any more.” He murmured, his voice breaking. Eddie was startled by it, wondering what in the world was going on that a pure spirit was mourning the absence of a demonic entity. “He’s good. I- I swear to you….he’s good. Please… give him back.”

Eddie grunted, running his hands over his face and skirting fingers through his hair, stirring the neat black locks into a disheveled fit. He gave a deep sigh of defeat, left a long contemplative glance in the spirit’s direction before giving in completely. “I guess…” I can’t believe I’m actually saying this. “If he means that much to you and you vouch for him so immensely, I could give it a try. I’ll break the blessing but the first time he acts up or represents a threat to you or I, I’ll enact the blessing and he’ll be gone for good. Am I understood?” His voice was uncharacteristically stern but Eddie didn’t like playing games when it came to the other side. He knew too many people who let their guard down and fell for spiteful demonic trickery and got hurt. He really didn’t want to see the little spirit before him get hurt either. He found his presence was safe and rather adorable. He had sensed him watching him with childish curiosity earlier that day and had wondered when he’d make himself known. This morning he had never imagined this would be how their first official interaction would turn out.

Waylon shifted in place, his energy humming around him with wary anticipation. He nodded in understanding, rubbing at his eyes quickly as he leaned forward, closer to Eddie. The larger male shivered as the electricity in the air crackled across his skin. He leaned back away from it, feeling the spiritual energy work into his body. “Please. I promise. We’ll behave.”

“Good. I’ll hold you to that promise Waylon.” Eddie gave a soft reassuring smile as he pushed himself up onto his feet. Stepping out of the energy zone rolling off of the excited little spirit. “I’ll go remove the blessing right now. You can calm down now.”

Waylon stared up at the larger male, tilting his head in confusion until he realized what he meant. His face flushed sheepishly as he sat back on his rear and the energy spike settled. The static hum faded out. Eddie breathed a sigh of relief before turning to leave the room.

Several minutes passed by in silence before an explosion of static energy filled the house. Waylon heard the heavy footsteps of his demonic counterpart rushing up the stairs without a single care in the world for how obnoxiously loud he was being in the presence of a human. Waylon saw the dark shadows that billowed off of Miles like massive plumes of smoke as the demon burst through the doorway and into Waylon’s room. Rushing up on the spirit without warning to envelope him in his arms and tendrils. Wrapping him up tightly as if letting go of him would cause him to vanish from sight right before his eyes. “Way!” Miles practically screamed, loud enough that the human across the hall could hear the outburst as if he wasn’t already feeling the immense energy from the demon in the household.

The entire bedroom was blotted out with the black smoke, to the point it was almost suffocating for a human to enter. Even so, Eddie stood in the doorway, the black vapor dispersing around him as a faint light of holy energy surrounded his body from the center point in his chest. Where the rosary hung. It was a protective shield, a miniature blessing that wasn’t as strong as the one on the crucifix but it was useful enough when going against mid level entities. Miles sensed the disturbance in the room immediately and turned quickly to face the human. He placed himself in front of Waylon protectively, a deep animalistic snarl rumbled out of his chest and his golden eyes glowed like hot embers in a darkened hearth. Eddie focused on the demonic energy and was able to see the force behind it. How it wound itself around Waylon. It put him on edge but Eddie couldn’t stop what was happening. If what Waylon said was true and Miles had always been their to protect him, this was just another instance of that bond.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you or Waylon.” The warmth that had been present with Waylon had evaporated to a tense stand off when facing the demon. He folded his arms with a relaxed posture that further infuriated Miles. “As long as you behave, you can stay here with him.” Every word out of the human’s mouth was another jab at Miles’ temper. The demon visibly bristled, the shadowy tendrils rising like hackles on his back as he bared his teeth angrily.

Waylon managed to wiggle free from Miles’ hold and wrapped his arms around his friend’s shoulders, pulling him up close. He rested his head against his back and rubbed up against him in affection. “Miles, please. He promised me we were safe here as long as we don’t cause trouble. Remember what you told me yesterday? To live around their energy. Coexisting with them.”

Miles growled once more, turning his golden gaze to Waylon. He reached up to touch the hands folded over his chest and released a breath. The demon started to calm down, relaxing slowly. He was still on edge, the tension was palpable in the room but it was livable. “Fine.” The word was a bark from curled lips. “But if he pulls another stunt like he did earlier, making you cry like that; I’ll remind him why they should fear us.”

“It seems we’ve all come to an agreement then.” Eddie stretched his arms out above his head and popped his joints with a groan. A yawn left his lips as he glanced at the two. It was nearing the end of Miles’ time in this world for the night and Eddie was eager to get some rest. “Now that that’s settled, I’m heading off to bed. Good night Waylon. Miles .” He bid before turning on his heel to head to his room. Shutting the door behind him and leaving the pair alone.

Miles glared after the man before clicking his tongue in disgust and sneering at the male. “What an ass.” He turned his attention back on Waylon and rubbed the little spirit's shoulders and arms quietly. His golden eyes softening, becoming warm and wary. Mindful of Waylon’s current situation. His voice quieted to a light whisper meant for just the two of them. “Are you okay Way? That asshole didn’t hurt you did he?”

“No. I’m alright.” The demon placed a hand on his friend’s cheek. Gingerly caressing the pale flesh. Waylon tilted his head into it, closing his eyes and focusing on the demon’s energy. The warmth within the layers of cold shadows. The ‘heart’ of his friend. The constant pulsing of energy that kept them thriving in this plane. “I thought I lost you.” Waylon’s voice trembled, about to break once more.

“Hey hey hey. I’m right here. I wasn’t going to let that happen again Way. I made you a promise. I’m not going to let anything get in the way of that.” Miles reassured his friend with a cheeky smile, pulling him back up against his chest so Waylon’s head was resting on his shoulder. The shadows around them levitated them over the bed, hovering above the dusty mattress. Miles refused to let go of Waylon for the rest of his time in this realm. Remaining as such even as the portal called him back. He didn’t relinquish his hold of the spirit until the very last warning pulses. He bestowed a gentle kiss upon the little spirit’s forehead and let himself fade away until the next night. Leaving Waylon lying on the bed alone.

The next morning was a lot less exciting. Eddie was up at the crack of dawn to run a handful of errands that were on his To-Do list. He left the house under Waylon’s care, finding the little spirit still lying on the bed from when he woke up. The blonde hadn’t left it since Miles was called back. He seemed as if he were asleep. His back to the door and he was motionless. Eddie wasn’t very sure if spirits did ever sleep but he decided to let the male have his space. He figured as long as he kept the rosary on, Miles would keep his distance and with the promise with Waylon, he would also behave himself.  

It wasn’t until about noon when he returned with armloads of groceries hauled in from the car. It took several trips in and out of the house to bring it all in. When he first entered, he noticed Waylon sitting up on the steps on the edge of the first landing. About the third trip in, Waylon was sitting out on the porch, watching him come and go. He never left the front porch. He never stepped off of it to the sidewalk which made Eddie a little bit curious. On his last trip inside, he locked up his old red pick up truck and gestured with a nod of his head for Waylon to follow him in. He didn’t speak aloud encase somebody walking by would see him.

Once inside with the front door shut and locked behind them, Eddie carried the last bag into the kitchen and began sorting out his groceries. Waylon lingered in the doorway, his body pressed up against the frame as he quietly watched the larger male tend to his task. “Waylon, have you ever left the house before?” He asked as he placed several items inside the refrigerator. “As a spirit, I mean.” He added quietly, turning around to grab a few more cold store items to put away.

Waylon was confused about the question at first and thought back to all the times him and Miles sat outside on the front porch, quietly watching the stars. During the daytime he remained on the steps for a majority of the time. In all those years, he never once felt the need or the desire to leave the house. After a moment he shook his head then seconds later spoke up when he figured Eddie didn’t see the gesture. “No. I’ve never left the house.”

“Have you ever tried?” Was the next question.

“No. It never occurred to me to ever try.” Waylon said softly.

Eddie moved from the refrigerator to the cabinetry and started storing away canned goods. “Interesting.” He plucked up a few free bags and stuffed them all into one bag to be contained in one neat area before storing them under the sink. “Would you like to try?” He asked, turning to face Waylon. The smaller blonde male froze at the prospect of stepping off the porch or leaving the property. He chewed on his bottom lip nervously and shook his head. Eddie raised a questioning brow at that. “May I ask why not?”

Waylon shifted in place, using the door frame more to hide behind then to actually lean against at this point. He tilted his head down to stare at the floor as distant memories echoed in his mind. His fingers curled into fists as he spoke softly. “I’m- I’m not allowed to.”

“Says who? Miles?” Eddie straightened up, his eyes narrowing on the blonde male. Waylon shook his head at the question again.

“No- not Miles.” Waylon opened his mouth to speak but then he closed it and shook his head again. Eddie stepped forward to approach the little spirit as a show of sympathy, reaching out to him as the static hum swirled around Waylon. The little spirit blinked out of sight and disappeared before Eddie could close the distance. He was startled by the sudden retreat and closed his eyes to sense out the presence. Finding Waylon had simply retreated back upstairs to his room.  

Eddie breathed a worried sigh, running his fingers through his hair once more before he continued on with his day. Determined to finish scrubbing down the floors and banister along with all the windows and the sills around them. Whenever he passed by upstairs he would peek inside the room to find Waylon curled up on his bed once more. He rubbed at the back of his neck and contemplated engaging the little spirit but each time he told himself it was better to let him have his space and would continue on with his task.

When the day wore on towards dinner time, Waylon made an appearance on the stairs. His small body pressed up against the banister to crane his neck and watch Eddie move about the kitchen chopping away at vegetables on a cutting board. The record player was on in the living room and the halls were filled with the soft sweet melody of old music. Eddie could sense the spirit’s chaotic emotions had settled and calmed to a more docile state. One that he appreciated a little more and wondered how things were going to turn out later that night when Miles returned. Which made him wonder about a few things yet he wasn’t going to ask Waylon just yet. Afraid of pushing the little spirit too far too quickly might cause problems for their relationship in the long run. Well, he couldn’t really consider it a relationship. They were more like roommates.

The night went on in content silence. Waylon remained where he was on the stairs as Eddie went about his routine, checking off the marks on his to-do list and steadily decreasing the amount of boxes pressed against the back wall of the living room. It was pitch black out and drawing closer to midnight when Eddie retired upstairs. Turning off all the lights beforehand, he expected to find Waylon sitting on the steps but he was nowhere to be seen. When he went up to the bedroom, the little spirit’s door was partially closed. Which was about the best Waylon could muster with the amount of concentration and energy he had at the time. It was enough for Eddie as he went on ahead to his room, giving a soft. “Good night.” As he passed and shutting his door behind himself.

Chapter Text

At the stroke of midnight, the static charge filled the house for a few seconds as Miles exited the portal. He made a B line for Waylon’s room and slipped past the door without disturbing it to find his friend lying on the bed in silence. His back to the entrance. There wasn’t very many times that Waylon kept himself shut away like this and usually it was when memories of the spirit’s life before hand were plaguing his mind. He would shut down completely and run on autopilot like this. Sometimes for days on end.

Miles grunted quietly to himself and wrapped his friend up in inky black tendrils, pulling him close to his chest so that they were curled up together on the bed. Hovering just above the blankets. Waylon’s eyes were closed but his energy continued to pulse. Upon recognizing his counterpart, a faint glow sparked in his chest and illuminated the rest of his body within the shadowy tendrils. Miles’ golden eyes were fixed on his friend, watching his expressions and noting how neutral they were at the moment. He wondered quietly if the human had anything to do with this current predicament.

An inky black tendril stretched out from Miles’ body, forming a completely separate shadowy entity, a silhouette of darkness that was void of any other features. Electricity much like the kind that inhabited the portal with its static presence sparked and arched within the entities body, illuminating the crevices of the body like lightning in a stormy sky. Arching from behind the thick cloud coverage. It hissed as it glided across the room, the trails of smoke rising off of it and linking back like spidery lines that kept them connected. It stretched out across the hall, touching the door frame as it pushed further out and towards the human’s bedroom. It didn’t even need to touch the door, phasing through the enclosed space and pushing inside.

It was met with some spiritual resistance. The entire room was unsettling, making it harder for the black cloud to maintain it’s presence. Miles encouraged it to keep going until it was hovering over the bed where the man laid. Lying on his back with the blankets pulled up to his shoulders comfortably. One hand resting over his chest and head tilted to the side. The clouds settled, lowering themselves to get closer to the human when a sudden burst of white energy exploded like a force field from the male’s chest. The object it originated from was an old family heirloom of a hand-me-down rosary. The wooden beads and cross were carved from holy wood and blessed regularly to keep its power from waning.

Eddie slowly opened his eyes, a deep frown already creasing his features as he pushed himself up into a seated position. The hand that had been resting on his chest was touching the rosary as his blue eyes narrowed on the smoky figure. He growled in annoyance, having a pretty good idea as to who the entity belonged to. “Be gone.” Eddie grumbled, holding up the rosary. The shock that came from it, caused the black smoky wisps to go screeching back to Miles. Slamming into his form so hard he lost his hold on Waylon and they both collapsed on top of each other on the bed.

Waylon grunted and pushed himself up to look around in confusion, glancing over at Miles with furrowed brows. His blonde locks a disheveled mess as he leveled questioning pale blue orbs on his brunette counterpart. The black wisps that normally rolled off of his body were absent and for once made Miles look relatively human. Aside from the glowing yellow eyes set into deep black sockets. He was his usual handsome human-like self. “Fucking bastard. That fucking hurt.” Miles grumbled, rubbing at his chest where the Walrider demon was forced back inside him. He growled lowly and tried to pull the presence back out but it didn’t return, no matter how hard he tried. He grunted, giving a huff of annoyance and sat back against the wall. Legs crossed and arms folded in a childish tantrum that Waylon found too adorable for the charming brunette.

“What were you doing just now?” Waylon asked softly, moving to sit directly in front of Miles. He leaned in closer to the male, his arms posting his body as he did so.

Miles regarded him for a moment, completely comfortable with the smaller spirit’s close and clingy personality. He relaxed his posture and stretched his legs out, holding his arms out to the smaller blonde male in a welcoming embrace. Waylon grinned and crawled up to it, sitting so his back was pressed up to Miles’ chest and the demon wrapped his arms around Waylon’s lithe frame. He rested his chin on the male’s head as he smiled back, reassured by the innocent spirit’s presence. The positive good vibe energy always lighting up his own downcast and dreary mood. “I was trying to see if he blessed the room again. Walrider’s energy is stronger than mine and trying to enter myself while the room is blessed will get me evicted from the house again. The room has a strong energy inside but it wasn’t a blessing. What sent Walrider packing back inside me was that fucking rosary of his.”

Waylon hummed softly, leaning his head back against Miles’ shoulder, closing his pale blue eyes. “Lots of people wear holy objects though.”

“Not ones with that kind of juice. It’s powerful. I don’t trust him.” Miles grumbled again, giving Waylon a soft squeeze.

Waylon laughed softly and shook his head. “I think he could say the same for you.” The little spirit chimed, his mood had improved greatly with his best friend’s presence and he felt better than he had the night before or even all day.

Miles rubbed his cheek against Waylon’s hair and sighed. “It’s not fair.” He whined. “You’re too freaking cute for this world. I wish I could take you out of this fucking place.” Miles closed his golden eyes, missing the sudden frown that fell over Waylon’s features at those words. Eddie’s own questions from earlier flitting to the forefront of his mind.

By the next morning, Eddie was gone before the crack of dawn. Waylon hadn’t even noticed the larger male had left the location until he started wandering the house and found it unbearably empty of the living presence. He resumed his position on the stairs and waited for most of the morning, hoping the man would return soon. In the past couple days he hadn’t left the house much and when he was gone, he’d return quickly or let Waylon know he was leaving.

Noon came around and Waylon was starting to get upset, over thinking all the possibilities that may have happened. The man may have been scared off knowing he shared the house with a spirit and a demon. He may have been annoyed with Miles’ antics the night before and this was the consequences that would befall Waylon. He feared the man had left like all the others and in his upset, the smaller items around the room started to tremble and float. Small objects like the pen on the kitchen counter and the note pad with Eddie’s To-Do list for the day.

The sunday morning newspaper was among them as well as they dropped to the floor a few minutes later when Waylon realized his actions. He cursed under his breath and hurried down the stairs in an attempt to pick the objects back up but he couldn’t get the newspaper to budge. The item slipping past his fingers with immense frustration before he huffed and sat down on the floor with arms crossed. Mimicking Miles’ posture from the night before. He tossed a glance towards the To-Do list and tilted his head, reading the sideways neat careful writing curiously.

To-Do List

[X] Unpack Upstairs Master Bedroom

[X] Set-up PO Box at Post Office

[X] Restock Cabinets

[ ] Clean Spare Bedrooms Upstairs

[ ] Meet Father Martin at Leadville Church

[ ] Purchase Candles

Waylon moved closer to read over the list once more, his eyes fixed on the mention of the church. He shook his head as more bad memories crept up from the depths of his mind. The sound of chanting as the Priest’s cast Miles’ out of the house, the scripture being mumbled under their breath repeatedly as they attempted to purge demonic forces from his body. His own screams of pain as they refused to stop. His mother and father stood by and watched. His pleas for help falling on deaf ears. Three days, he went through hell for three days straight as these men took turns chanting and praying and crucifying his spirit over and over again.

The only thought on his mind was of Miles. He was petrified that something terrible had happened to his friend. That they did more than just evict the demon from the house. He clapped his hands over his ears and curled up on the kitchen floor, his knees tucked up close to his chest as he whimpered. More objects around the household started to float. Levitating off the ground. Bigger pieces of furniture such as chairs and the dining room table started to shake and tremble. Leaving scuff marks on the wood boards where they stand.

He hadn’t even noticed when Eddie entered the household. The sound of the door shutting in the foyer was overridden by the creaks and groans of the house and the furniture that was being shifted  around. The male had two armloads of bags which were quickly dropped onto the kitchen table as he rushed over to the spirit in alarm. “Waylon?” He blurted in surprise and genuine confusion as to what was upsetting the little spirit. “Waylon, calm down. What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong, please.” Eddie reached out for the smaller male but his advances were met with a pulse of energy that knocked into Eddie’s chest. He buckled over, feeling the air leave his chest, the momentary suffocation had his eyes wide and fearful before he finally managed a gasp. He touched the rosary beneath his navy blue dress shirt and focused on Waylon. Trying to coax the spirit to calm down. To let him through to him.

“Don’t let them near me! I don’t want to go through that again! Please!” Waylon whimpered, feeling the proddings of Eddie’s presence pushing against his own existence. It was startling at first, terrifying even but after a few heartbeats, he latched onto the larger male’s calm and quiet demeanor. He let it surround him and take over the chaos that was swelling up like a violent storm within. Eddie eased his way closer to Waylon and placed a gentle hand on both of his shoulders, mindful of how fragile the spirit’s presence was before him as he raised a hand to gingerly caress the blonde’s cheek. “I’ll behave. I promise I’ll behave….please....don’t let them...”

“Shhh, it’s alright. I know, you’re a good boy.” He reassured the smaller male, his deep voice was sweet and caring. A maternal tone laced with honey. His touch radiated a calming influence to the smaller frightened male. He pulled Waylon closer to him, trying not to put too much force in the actions so as not to disrupt the spirit’s form as he continued to soothe his fears and whatever trauma’s the male was reliving. “Everything’s alright Waylon. Nobody's going to hurt you. You’re safe here.”

Waylon’s pale blue orbs were dewy with forming tears as he took a shaky breath. His eyes were wide and still very much afraid but Eddie’s presence helped jostle him out of the upsetting frame of mind. “I’m sorry.” Waylon whispered, his voice broken as if struggling to speak. A few tears slid down his face, a slow roll that made something inside Eddie ache to make all the pain the spirit was still enduring to go away. It wasn’t fair that even in death, this young man is haunted by whatever his life had incurred on him.

Eddie stroked a hand through Waylon’s hair in an attentive gesture. “It’s alright Waylon. There’s no need to be sorry.” He knew he needed to look into what was troubling the spirit but Eddie wasn’t blind nor was he insensitive enough to demand answers from the broken young man. It would only make things worse and as he’s seen in the past, even the most harmless of spirits can become incredibly dangerous and destructive when pushed too far. He didn’t want to see that happen to Waylon. He wanted the little spirit to be happy, not to have to exorcise the male because he was pushing for answers. It was counterproductive to his intentions.

Once Waylon had relaxed and calmed enough, Eddie stood up, dusting off his slacks as he collected his notepad and the other fallen objects on the floor to return them to their rightful places. He pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and gestured for Waylon to sit there while he unpacked the groceries. Waylon did as told and found watching Eddie go through his routine was relaxing in a way and helped himself calm down and regain some form of contentment. Eddie had put away a series of candles in the cabinet that he had recently purchased, each was made to withstand an hour of burning and was the kind one would get for storm shelters as temporary lighting. The larger raven haired male went to the notepad and checked off the bottom two boxes on the list before continuing on with his work. Starting off with making lunch for himself and humming one of the many tunes from the record player softly. It was something Waylon found peaceful about this man’s presence, among many other things. He just wished Miles could see this side of the man.

As the day went on, Eddie completed more parts to his To-Do List, even adding several more chores to it as he went. Whatever was left at the end of the night, he would start a new page full of the unfinished tasks and continue on from there. A majority of it was unpacking and cleaning. He had some reminder events and meetings labeled such as companies to call to do some work on the heating system and hot water heater now that they were heading into the colder months. He also marked that he needed to do some work in the downstairs and cleaned Waylon’s bedroom. He washed the bedding and gave the mattress a good once-over. Adding that a new one was in dire need to his list.

Waylon sat in the corner of the room, next to the mirror as he watched Eddie work. It had been a long time since his room had been cleaned, by anyone at all. He thought back to it and realized the last person to do anything with his room was himself shortly before he died. He had nothing better to do with the time and cleaned often. Obsessively so. His mother would give him the supplies to do so. He also had more than just the bed and the mirror in there. He once had a very large trunk full of the most beautiful quilts him and his grandmother made when he was just a boy. Spending long summers working on swatches of brilliant fabric.

He had many books too, he enjoyed curled up in those quilts, having four or five of them spread out across the bed as he read by candle light. He really missed them. He looked over the bed quietly. The blanket was all that was his, the only quilt left from his past. The bedframe remained as well but the mattress switched out over time as occupants attempted to make use of the room but would flee it within a few days. The mirror was never touched. He noticed it was avoided often. Many occupants that dared enter the room refused to look into it. Sensing something was wrong. As he leaned back, he gave it a good long glance before speaking up. “Eddie?” He asked.

The male was elbow deep in a bucket of warm water, scrubbing down the window sill when his head snapped up from his work and he turned to face the little spirit. He gave him a soft questioning look before speaking. “Is something the matter Waylon?”

“I um, I was wondering if there was something wrong with this room. Nobody comes in here.” Waylon stated softly. “Even the movers didn’t come in here.” He shifted in place, watching as Eddie’s gaze moved from the little spirit, flickering over to the mirror and the shadows creeping out from it. He wanted to pull the spirit away but he noticed the male either didn’t see them or was not affected by them.

“There is…. Ah, a presence in this room. It feels unnatural and wrong.” He started, rubbing the back of his neck and getting a little bit of soapy suds onto his neck which he wiped off with a slightly annoyed sigh. “Demonic in a way.”

Waylon looked at the male then back at the mirror where those deep blue eyes were focused. “Is it coming from the mirror?” Waylon asked again, turning pale blue orbs back to the larger male.

“You can see it?” Eddie asked in surprise.

“See what? It looks like a normal mirror to me.” He explained, getting up from his crouched spot to stand beside Eddie. He craned his neck curiously, trying to see what the larger human was. Squinting his eyes at it but ended up shrugging. “There’s nothing there.”

“Waylon…” Eddie sighed before shaking his head at the start. “Nevermind.” He gave the spirit a soft reassuring smile when concerned pale pink lips pouted up at him. He ruffled the blonde’s hair lightly, mindful not to be too rough with his own presence and cause harm to the spirit. “So, what kind of mattress would you like for your bed? I was thinking we could make this room yours again.” He smiled when Waylon’s eyes widened in excitement. His lips pulled into a wide grin.

Chapter Text

Miles returned with the same static hum filling the house to signal his arrival. The portal opening wide and releasing the demon to seek out his companion. Miles was surprised when he entered the first floor to find the kitchen and stairway absent of his friend’s presence. With a curious sound and a bit of concern brimming in the back of his mind, the demon searched the house to find him. Going to the one place he knew Waylon would be without a doubt. He glided up the stairs to the second floor and was genuinely surprised to find the door open and a lamp left on in the room. Even more so to the fact there was a lamp as well as a new mattress on the bed and the room was recently cleaned. The scent of disinfectant still lingered with a fresh floral scent.  Waylon was lying on the bed with it’s new freshly laundered blankets, his attention solely fixed elsewhere. He had several books laid out on a small folding table that was the kind easily stored away beneath the bed. A basket with books tucked inside it sat on the floor beside the leg of the folding table.

Waylon had one open in front of him as he read away at the pages, nose practically buried into the crease of the spine. He had Eddie turning pages for him earlier in the day so he could read. They’re a few of Eddie’s own books and some were small cheap dollar store titles Eddie picked up upon the spirit’s request. Waylon still has trouble focusing and touching solid objects so he had Eddie set things up for him and turn pages. The larger human had gone to bed shortly before Miles’ arrived and Waylon figured he would take his time reading through the pages until he could have Miles take over turning them for him. He was about half way through the second page when Miles cleared his throat. His back leaning against the frame of the door with arms crossed. Golden eyes fixed on the smaller blonde spirit. “Good book?” He asked, cocking a brow at the male curiously.

Waylon didn’t look up, just hummed softly in affirmation, finishing the last couple lines of his paragraph before he finally looked up at his friend with a sheepish smile. “It is. Sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve read a book.” He pointed at the text before him, showing he was already on several chapters in and had a third of the book read. “Welcome home.” Waylon greeted, bounding off the bed to give his friend a hug. Miles reciprocated it, wrapping dark tendrils around the spirit’s form as they glided over to the bed, hovering above it as per their usual position. “Oh! Careful, don’t knock it over. I can’t save my spot if you do.” Waylon warned.

Miles gave a soft chuckle of amusement and smiled at the innocence of the little spirit. One dark shadowy tendril moved to dog ear the corner of the page and closed the book so it wouldn’t be in the way. Waylon looked somewhat offended at the action. “You truly are a demon.” He said in disbelief, gaining a bark of laughter from the golden eyed male.

“What? It’s just a book, Way.” He pointed out with a smirk. “And you’re dead. Materialistic things shouldn’t matter and you certainly can’t touch it so beggars can’t be choosers.” Waylon huffed, looking on the verge of pouting when Miles leaned down and kissed his forehead. “It’s fine. You didn’t have a bookmark so tomorrow have your nanny fix it.”

“Nanny? What Na- oh. Oh, that’s just mean.” Waylon’s lips curled into a slight smile despite his words. “He’s being nice. He gave me my room back, see.” He gestured at the surrounding space which looked more livable. “He even fixed the bed.”

“So no more troubles or upsets?” Miles asked as Waylon patted a large plush white pillow that sat at the head of the bed. He was getting better at focusing his energy to be able to exist with objects but his ability to interact and create force to move them was still desperately lacking.

“Hm, none that I can think of. I had a misunderstanding this morning and nearly tore the kitchen apart while he was away running errands.” Waylon explained a bit nervously. “He was really good about understanding and helped me calm down when he came home.”

“What was the misunderstanding?” Miles turned his golden on to fix on Waylon. He was hovering right over the smaller spirit. Waylon lying on the bed and Miles nose to nose with him. His shadowy tendrils rising from his body but his fingers curled around Waylon’s. The spirit splayed his fingers across Miles’ palm and wove them together in idle fascination as he considered speaking about it.

“I was reminded of the night you were sent away. Of the time.. .they came-” Waylon’s voice had dropped and his attention was fixed solely on their connected hands.

“Oh, it’s alright Way. You don’t have to tell me if it’s about that .” The demon spoke quickly to prevent Waylon from pushing himself too far and losing control of his emotions and his powers. Instead, he decided to change the topic of discussion. “So, what was that book about that you’re reading?”

Waylon’s eyes seemed to light up at Miles’ question, those pale blue orbs turning up to meet the golden hues that glowed in the darkness. The little spirit proceeded to tell the demon about the book, talking about the character and how heroic they were. How much he admired their strength and how it reminded him of different people that have crossed his lifetime and afterlife. It seemed like Waylon could go on forever about it, about how he thought the character may make their decisions and maybe even how the story seemed to be hinting at for the end. Not long after that and the topic shifted again to different things. All spurred on by questions from the demon to keep the little spirit occupied and happy. That’s all the demon cared for. Quietly smiling at the delight Waylon showed when he spoke of something that excited him or made him feel good. To the point the white glow started to burn inside of Waylon, filtering out of the pale ephemeral form to shine on the shadows of the room. Well, except for the corner by the mirror. Miles knew no amount of light would ever burn away that darkness.  

It was far too soon when the portal started to call the demon back. Waylon was in high spirits by the end of the visit and they had settled into contentment, miles’ shadowy tendrils embracing the smaller male tenderly. He placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and laid the spirit onto the bed before he allowed the portal to take him back. It was always bittersweet, these moments when their time would end. He never knew which day would be the last and he couldn’t stand returning to the land of endless darkness. Waylon was his only light in this cursed existence.

All those years ago when they had been parted for so long, Miles didn’t think he would ever see his light again. He used the mirror in the corner as a substitute but it dulls it’s brilliance and he knew the source was slowly dying. He knew Waylon wasn’t going to last much longer. That his end would be soon. He just prayed it would be quick and soothe his pain. What he hadn’t expected was to find the light rekindled in the form of a kindred spirit. Both overjoyed at his friend’s return but devastated that his flame had perished so soon in life. He feared that even this phantom spark might soon fizzle out and be forgotten and that day would surely be a dark one for the demon. The darkest in his existence.

By morning, Waylon was drawn from his room by the usual routine of his housemate. Eddie was up at the crack of dawn, working on finishing up unpacking and hitting the last bits of cleaning around the other rooms. The place looked spotless by mid morning and he was busy working on the kitchen with the record player going while he made breakfast. Waylon joined him at the table which was also becoming a common routine for them. He liked it, sitting at the table with another over a meal. Though Waylon couldn’t eat, he still found enjoyment in the company. In the fact he was acknowledged and included in such mundane rituals. The house was actually feeling like a real home and it reminded him of his childhood. All the early morning breakfasts together and family dinners in the evenings. Eddie would even ask him if he wanted anything, rather it was out of habit for the older male or simply a courtesy to help Waylon feel normal, the spirit didn’t know but he liked it very much.

After breakfast, Eddie sat at the kitchen table in a white tank top and a pair of black jogging sweats, hair neatly slicked back already as he started pouring over documents and paperwork involved in the move such as changing addresses, setting up a PO box, a lot of government oriented changes were necessary as well. It was inevitable and Waylon was thankful he didn’t have to stress over those sorts of things. It was tiring just watching Eddie stress over them. Instead Waylon would watch the steam rise from the mug of tea that sat on the edge of the table and would try to interact with it and disrupt its flow. He was focusing on it intensely, imagining the bend and part of the stream. The way it breaks when touched. The way the surface ripples when bumped. He was so absorbed in it, he didn’t realize Eddie was speaking to him until about the fifth time. “Waylon!” The abrupt call of his name startled the spirit and nearly toppled the tea all over the place as it was shoved two inches across the smooth wood surface. Luckily enough it was about half full so none of the amber liquid sloshed out.

He sat upright, blonde locks falling down in front of his face, forcing him to tuck them back behind his ear as he gave the larger male a sheepish smile. “Uh, um, sorry. Wh-what were we talking about?”

Eddie’s deep blue orbs rested on the little spirit curiously as his hand held the top of the tea cup, keeping it from going anywhere else should Waylon’s powers act up again. He gave the smaller male a sympathetic look, his eyes softening with concern. “I asked if you were feeling alright. You seem out of it today and last night...well, there was a strange light coming from your room and I was worried something was wrong.” Eddie had spotted the glow from under his door in the middle of the night. He had left Waylon to his lonesome, knowing that Miles would arrive right at the stroke of midnight and never missed. He heard the two talking back and forth across the hall in hushed tones but he couldn’t make out what was being said and he didn’t want to disrupt anything and cause a stir with the demon.  “I hope you know, that if there is anything-” ‘Or anyone-’ Eddie thought to himself. “-bothering you, you can talk to me about it. I’m here for you should you need any assistance or a shoulder to lean on.” He gave the little spirit a warm smile.

If Waylon were alive, his cheeks would be bright red at the larger male’s words. He cleared his throat and sat back awkwardly at the offer, giving a nervous smile in return as he stumbled over his own thoughts to come up with an explanation. “Oh that- that was...it wasn’t- er I mean…” He sighed, unable to sort out his thoughts into a coherent sentence but it proved not to matter when the doorbell sounded in the entryway hall.

It startled both Waylon and Eddie enough, Waylon nearly knocked the chair over and Eddie’s thighs bumped the table, causing the tea to spill over the rim of the mug and splatter a little onto the wooden surface. Narrowly missing the important documents on the table. A curse slipped out under Eddie’s breath as he grabbed for a hand towel hanging on the arm of the oven door to mop up the mess. “Just a moment!” Eddie called out towards the entryway, hoping the visitors would hear him. He saw Waylon’s pale form start to fade like vapor from his sight as he prepared to poof back to his room. When his emotions were stronger, he did it in a flash but Eddie noticed it took a bit of concentration and a lot of desire for him to blink to some other place in the house. Mostly, it was easiest when he was upset and wanting to run away and hide.

“No, Waylon you can stay down here. Nobody can see you so it shouldn’t be a problem. This is your house too. You don’t need to hide all the time.” Eddie reassured the spirit, seeing those pale blue eyes give him a questioning look. Eddie focused his own desire and energy to pat Waylon gently on the shoulder as he passed to go greet their guests.

Eddie was surprised to open the door and find two older women and a young girl standing on the front steps. The little girl had a basket of home necessities hanging off her elbow. She wore a little black and white dress, white sleeves and a black front that had a little white bunny on the front with a small carrot. She looked to be about five or six years old with a head of red curls hardly tamed by a myriad of colorful ribbons. The older women each wore blouses, one had brown locks tied back carefully into a bun with a black blouse and dark green capris. She had a tray of homemade brownies in hand and the other woman had white hair that was short, cut at the ears and tucked back out of her wizened old features.  She had a turquoise blouse and white capris on and both had dressy type of sandals with a heal to them. She had a pie in a large plastic container. They were smiling when Eddie opened the door and the elder woman started speaking first. “Hello! We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“Oh, hello. Would you ladies like to come in?” Eddie offered, his eyes a little wide in surprise and he was a bit self conscious about his under dressed casual appearance. Normally he was more proper when around others but he wasn’t expecting company. He hoped hospitality  would help make up for that fact. He stepped aside, holding the door open wide to permit them entry. The little girl was gestured to head in first and she stood off to the side of the doorway to wait for the other two.

Waylon watched the trio come in from the kitchen. His eyes peeking around the corner despite the fact people usually never saw him, he couldn’t help but hide with strangers entering his home. Eddie greeted them each more properly and led them to the kitchen where he could place the goods. The little girl followed behind Eddie, who was now holding the pie in hand, her eyes weren’t fixed on the larger man or even where she was heading. They were staring right directly at Waylon. He felt obligated to greet her and gave a small wave which she had returned with a large smile and a small wave of her own, trying to maneuver it around the basket in her hands. It was easier once it was taken and placed on the kitchen table with everything else.

“Could I get you anything to drink? I just made a pot of tea, the kettle should still be warm.” Eddie started but the elder woman gave a slight wave and a smile.

“No thank you deary. We can’t stay long. Have a recital at the Elementary school we’ve got to get to. We just wanted to see how well you’re settling into the new house and the neighborhood.” The elder woman spoke, providing Eddie with a myriad of pleasantries. Waylon had moved to the stairs and was watching the little girl through the banister. Her eyes following him everywhere he went. He was excited at the fact someone else could see him and was making all sorts of funny faces at her to make her laugh and smile. “Also, I’d like you to meet my daughter and granddaughter…-”

Waylon ignored the introductions as names were exchanged. Eddie was nodding along and smiling thought Waylon had seen his smiles enough to know it was only a facade. Eddie looked uncomfortable in their presence. Rather it was the sudden unwelcome visit or the fact he wasn’t at his best or even the fact Eddie didn’t seem all that social. He was the type to prefer quiet, peace and solitude. He liked being alone or sharing in the company of others but without direct contact. Waylon could sympathize with that only he most enjoyed listening to others interact with each other. He liked being the invisible individual in his life but now that he was dead, being invisible sucked. Immensely.

He was in the middle of playing peek-a-boo with the little girl around the thick wooden posts when the woman spoke up on a topic that made Waylon freeze in his place and his attention snap up to their conversation. “I heard you’re the new priest at the Leadville Church. We saw you briefly on Sunday morning but never got the chance to properly introduce ourselves.” She explained with a carefree demeanor. Waylon felt a tightness in his chest, despite being dead he still had a ‘heart’ so to speak. It was more of an energy pulse or what one could refer to as a soul. Thought demons are considered soulless creatures and yet Miles had one too. Waylon’s at the moment was loud, the air shifted around them and Eddie noticed it immediately. His gaze flickering from the elderly woman to see Waylon standing at the first landing of the steps and staring at him with a haunting expression on his face. The color drained from Eddie as panic lit up in his eyes. The first time Waylon has ever seen that expression on the larger man’s features.

“Brr, feels like a draft in here. These old homes are unsettling at times-” The woman started to speak but Eddie spoke up a little louder and a little firmer.

“Yes, it can be drafty. I was actually getting ready to do some work on the house to fix that problem. If you don’t mind ladies, I hope you have a wonderful time at the school recital.” Eddie gave a smile but it was strained. The little girl who had been playing with Waylon stared up at him as if trying to figure out what was wrong and why he had stopped so suddenly. At the parting of her grandmother, she turned back with a sad look and gave Waylon a silent wave goodbye before heading towards the door. Eddie crouched down to bid her farewell and complimented her on her pretty dress before the trio was ushered out with a hasty goodbye and a promise to speak again on Sunday.

Eddie shut the door behind them and turned to face the stairs just in time to see a few different objects hover in the air and come crashing back down to the floor. One of which did end up breaking, the others merely bounced or scuffed against the dark wood. “Waylon!” Eddie said firmly, heading towards the steps before he could catch himself. Waylon looked taken aback by the tone of voice, horror flooding his expression before his form flickered like static and vanished. Eddie started to follow it up the steps before he realized the little spirit wasn’t hiding upstairs. He turned his eyes back towards the kitchen, looking past the banister and at the door that led down to the basement. The spirit’s energy was coming from down there, shrouded by the heavy blanket of negativity that swirled like a brewing storm.

Chapter Text

“Waylon!” Eddie called down the dark steps of the home. He stood at the very top of the stairs leading down into the basement, deep blue pools swirling with concern as he gazed into the heavy darkness of the lower levels. The demonic energy down below writhed like a captive serpent attempting to flee a set of iron clasp jaws. It coiled and lunged, twisting and churning like a storm brimming with palpable energy that Eddie could see rising like shadowy waves. He feet refused to move. His body denied him the energy to take a step forward as if a powerful wall blocked him from entering.

He couldn’t imagine what this place was like when the portal opened each night and Miles would cross over. It was unbearable for Eddie. A twisting sickness knotting up his insides and he was just on the edge. Waylon was down there in the very heart of this static storm. “Waylon, darling! You have to come back up! You can’t stay down there. It’s not safe. Waylon?” He continued to call out, pleading that the spirit respond to his calls. He strained to hear him, any sign or sound that he was down there in one piece but nothing came.

Eddie cursed loudly, tearing himself away from the entrance and forcing his feet to race up the steps to the upper floor. He needed to protect himself before going down there. It was the only way he could make it the few steps down without collapsing under the energy. He was already wearing his rosary, never taking it off. He kept it on mostly as defense against Miles’ attempts to pry at him but it was also out of habit. It was a family heirloom, passed on to him from his mother. Not something he wished to part with whatsoever. Even for a moment. The item he sought though was the crucifix he had hanging above his bed. The same one he blessed on the first night that sent Miles away. Only he just needed to bless it a moment. Just long enough to go down there and retrieve Waylon.

With the crucifix in hand, he murmured the blessing and marked it in holy water. Making his way back down to the threshold, he held it before himself and continued to pray as he started working his way down the steps and into the vortex of dark energy. Even with the protection of the crucifix, the immense energy was crushing around him, pressing in on him and licking at his legs. The energy around him protecting him felt like it was caving in, like aluminum being crumpled in around him, constricting his movement. He prayed louder and harder, putting all of his faith and energy into it but it only worked a flicker more, he hastened his steps until he reached the hard concrete floor of the basement.

His eyes scanned the darkness, pale shreds of light barely making it through the grimy slotted windows but the dark energy was like an inky black fog shrouding everything around him in darkness. The place had all kinds of old wooden furniture and iron work pieces scattered about. Crates and boxes already being eaten away by rot and moisture. The musk was suffocating, making it hard to breath. Eddie had a sneaking suspicion there was a lot of harmful molds growing down here as well, and not just the harmful mortal kind.

He pressed the back of his hand against his nostrils when he felt something warm and damp run over his lip and found his nose had begun to bleed. Static prickled across his skin like skeletal fingers racing across his flesh. He felt like insects were crawling all over his body, little legs and tendrils scampering over him. He knew it was the energy around him causing the troubles but he couldn’t stop now. He won’t last long down here and he needed to find Waylon soon.

When he was starting to think all hope was lost, he spotted the small slivers of pale light shining through the smoky haze. The sound of whimpering came from just around the corner in a small alcove, Waylon’s body was curled up against it and tears streaked down his face but they were all wrong. The tears pooled into dark puddles beneath him. His body was trembling as sobs wracked his frail form. The bright light that illuminated his heart was growing dimmer and dimmer. At first Eddie thought it was the haze but he knew better, Waylon was losing energy here in this tainted place and he himself was losing his grasp on the blessing. It was closing in around him like hands around his throat. He swallowed thickly and crouched down beside Waylon, focusing what little energy he had left to spare on interacting with the spirit. Touching his shoulder to get his attention. “Waylon, we have to go. It’s not safe for us down he-”

Waylon’s head turned and black pits stared back at Eddie. The dark puddle Eddie had noticed ran with blood from empty hollow sockets pooling down his face as he cried. His pale body was cracked like broken porcelain and appeared as if flaking away to disintegrate into ash beside him. Eddie went white with fear, realizing there chances were narrowed down to seconds. His voice broken in his throat as he struggled for words. Waylon’s form had begun convulsing on the floor, his body shaking and jolting as if shocked by a surge of electricity. The sounds from his chest were a sickly watery gurgle and the light that shone from his inner core was dimming far too quickly. Eddie made a split second decision and released the crucifix. Scooping up the spirit with the last shreds of energy he had and racing back through the maze of decrepit forgotten possessions and the smoky black haze.

Every step up the stairs felt as if his legs were full of lead. Waylon’s light was failing quickly, barely a flickering flame of presence. Eddie felt the same darkness creeping over his vision that enshrouded them. The stic hum made his body start to go numb and he struggled the last few steps. He lost his balance near the top and teetered backwards. Disoriented by the fog, he struggled to sustain his balance but managed to get enough leverage to throw himself forward into the door. It snapped the frame open with a crack of old wood before both him and Waylon sprawled into a heap on the kitchen floor. The door pressed shut behind him , barely holding on in the frame as he gasped and heaved. A sickening ball of rot forming in his stomach. He scrambled for the waste bin near the counter and emptied the contents of his stomach into the can. His head swooned as dizziness gripped and toyed with his mind. He leaned back against the cabinetry and let himself be taken by exhaustion. Or more like he hadn’t the strength left to fend it off.

“What the fuck happened?!” Eddie was awoken by the enraged screaming of the demon. The house was shaded in darkness and the static him of the portal could be felt. A very irate demon loomed over Eddie with fierce tendrils rising around him like wisps of smoke. Eddie struggled to make sense of what was going on, his body ached all over and he still felt drained.  

“Wha-..Miles?” Eddie breathed. His blue orbs blinked wearily as he took in the sight past the demon. The broken door frame leading to the basement, the door hanging awkwardly by it’s hinges and dark ichor smudges and stained the wooden floor. There were dark droplets and bloodied handprints smearing the ground as if something had been dragged but no sign of Waylon was around. “Waylon?” He gasped before blurting out suddenly. “Where’s Waylon?”

Eddie moved to get up but was slammed back down into the ground by the furious demon. “What the fuck did you do to him?” Miles’ golden eyes burned like hot coals from the pits themselves. His voice was cold and felt like ice cutting through Eddie. His own eyes widened in confusion, unable to register what was going on. The last thing he remembered…

“Oh god…” Eddie choked out. “Waylon...he..” Eddie tried to grab at the demon’s tendrils but they lifted him off the floor, body and all clear up but preparing to slam him back down. Eddie braced for the attack, not really blaming Miles one bit for it. “He went down stairs. I tried...I tried to get him to come back. He wouldn’t...i went down there and..Waylon.” Hot tears were already burning at Eddie’s eyes and sliding down his face. He pleaded to Miles who snarled like a large beast. An inhuman roar as Eddie was thrown back down to the floor. His shadowy tendrils rose to attack when an earsplitting banshee like scream erupted in the house. Miles froze in place to find Waylon’s pale fragile form hovering in the stairwell. His eyes were black pits, empty and terrifying. His golden blonde locks were early silver and the cracks in his flesh were like spidery inky lines. The black ichor stained his body, bloodied hand prints marking up his ragged clothing. A strange energy surrounded Waylon, crackling like electricity.

“Wa-Waylon…?” Eddie gasped, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. He was shaky and weak still but he didn’t care. He needed to do something. To help.

“That’s not Waylon.” Miles growled, his dark shadowy tendrils reached out protectively as the creature that looked like Waylon screeched again. A glass resting beside Eddie on the countertop exploded from the sound and rained shards onto the man laying cuts across his skin. Eddie hissed as pain bit into his skin and he turned away. Miles’ shadows darted at Waylon forcing the spirit to dodge and retreat back up the steps. The form crawled along the walls and floor like a spider, body twisting and contorting into a vile shape as if no bones constricted it.

“What the hell is going on? Miles, where is Waylon?” Eddie demanded answers from the demon but Miles only scoffed, moving to chase after it into the entryway and staring up the landing. The creature dove down onto Miles, lunging with mouth agape and teeth gnashing at him. Hands raking across his body with dark claws of broken bloodied nails and boney tips. As if it had chewed the ends of it’s own fingers off.

Eddie jolted back, stumbling into the table and making it creak across the floor. He turned to see the salt shaker that rested on the end. Being health conscious and all, he used pure sea salt to cook with, it was decent enough against entities. He grabbed the shaker and opened the end out into his palm. Running up the the spirit, he slammed a mound of pure salt into it’s face. It hissed back, wailing as it turned and clambered up the wall towards the upper floor. The salt disintegrated upon contact and heated up, burning Eddie’s palm in the process. He cursed, shaking his hand out as he stared up the steps, half expecting it to return for a second round. “It’s recouping while it can.”

“Answers, now.” Eddie turned on Miles, his tone hard and dangerous. His blue gaze cold but lingering with concern for the little spirit. “If that’s not Waylon, where is he and where did that... thing come from?”

“That thing isn’t Waylon but that is Waylon.” Miles said simply as if it was the easiest explanation in the world. Eddie’s expression begged to differ, forcing the demon to be more specific. “Waylon went down there to the basement where the portal opens. The negative energy from the other side infests the whole lower level and is strongest in the place of the portal. Just because the portal isn’t open doesn’t mean nothing seeps through. It’s like turning on a faucet, if you don’t turn it off all the way, it’ll drip. These drips aren’t anything of solid form like I am but they’re like an infection. They can take over a host spirit.” Miles explained. He focused his energy and showed off the shadowy tendrils that shed from his body. “I’m infected with one as we speak but that was while I was living and this one, the Walrider, is ancient and much more powerful. Waylon is infected with a low level one but as a pure spirit, he’s more susceptible to it. Call it a possession if you will. That’s the closest comparison I have.”

“So that thing is Waylon but it’s not. How do we make it leave his body..er spirit...whatever it is?”

“His ‘heart’.” Miles corrected. “It’s what makes us, us. Waylon’s is where that light comes from. That white glow you saw the other night. That’s his ‘heart’. It shines brightest when he’s excited or happy. It’s pulses are strongest then.” Miles sighed, running a hand over his face and cursing. “If we don’t fix this, he won’t get better and we could lose him for good. That thing will consume his ‘heart’.”

“How do we do that?” Eddie inquired.

Miles shook his head and glared at Eddie. “You’ll not do a damn thing. You’ve fucked up enough thank you very much.” He growled and started heading up the stairs. “I’ll handle this. Stay down here out of my fucking way. Useless fucking priests.”

Eddie was taken aback when Miles cursed his profession. “Wait! You knew about me?” Eddie blurted, causing Miles to turn back and scowl at him.

“Yeah fuck face. I’ve been around for centuries and you priests still manage to fuck up our world with your bullshit agenda. Can’t leave well enough alone. You just had to intervene and managed to taint a perfectly pure spirit into a fucking demon. Congradu-fucking-lations.” Miles gave a mock applause. Eddie wasn’t his first run in with a priest, far from it. He has crossed paths with many but he easily glided past them or avoided altercations or always won against them. Trickery was his best ploy, making them think they won when they haven’t done a single thing but screw themselves over or lie to themselves. He made the mistake of thinking Eddie would be different but he was obviously wrong. The man had to have done something to make Waylon go down there and Miles didn’t care what it was. What’s done is done and he’s pissed.

Eddie’s jaw hung agape as he watched Miles disappear up the stairs and out of sight. He heard the door to Waylon’s room creak open. There was a disruption of static in the air. The piercing screams and cursing from Miles. He heard the demon calling Waylon’s name and thuds as something was thrown about the room. Eddie took a few steps up the stairs only to hear Miles scream. “STAY THE FUCK DOWNSTAIRS!”

Eddie jolted back and remained on the first floor. He heard more screeching then the banshee call that bordered on agony before the static energy in the house was disrupted and faded. Silence settled over the house, heavy and unnerving. Eddie contemplated taking a few steps up if only to strain to hear something. Anything that would give him an idea of what was happening. But then Miles’ exhausted shadow loomed at the top of the steps. A dark green orb of sickly energy buzzed and crackled in his hands. The demon’s own burning fires in his eyes seemed to dull like a dying flame as he walked down the steps in human form. His shadows were gone and he looked like a normal man for once. Except for the eyes, they were unsettling with their glow. “It’s done. Give him a few days. His ‘heart’ has to heal. He needs positive energy to get better.” Miles glanced up at the priest and sighed. “I can’t be around him for a few days. My ‘heart’ won’t help him recover. You need to be with him for that.”

“Wha? Wait.” Eddie spoke suddenly as the demon passed to head to the basement door. His hand touched the demon’s shoulder which Eddie half expected miles to send him off but he didn’t move. Frozen in place with his head down. “Thank you Miles.”

“Shut the fuck up and get up there. Don’t leave him alone until I come back.” Miles turned his head to face Eddie. “Promise me that. You won’t leave him alone.” Miles’ eyes were pleading, the embers of light dampened as the demon seemed to struggle to hold his course.

Eddie swallowed hard and nodded. “I promise.” His words were form and true. He wouldn’t leave Waylon alone. Not ever again and he won’t keep harmful secrets from the spirit anymore. He didn’t want him misunderstanding and coming to harm again.

“Good. Now get up there before I kick your ass.” Miles grunted and didn’t wait before heading back to the basement door. Eddie didn’t wait either and was already rushing up the steps towards Waylon’s room.

The door was wide open as Eddie crept down the hallway, hesitant to enter now, his excitement dwindling as he feared what was left of Waylon after the demonic essence possessed him. He took a deep breath, preparing himself the best he could as he turned the corner to find the little spirit’s small form looking even tinier on the bed. His body curled up into a tightly wound ball. He wasn’t moving at all, his back towards Eddie. The priest took a few hesitant steps towards Waylon as he spoke softly to him. “Waylon, darling? Are you alright?” He cursed himself for asking such obvious questions but he didn’t know what else to say. “Waylon?”

“I’m sorry..” The voice was small, barely a whisper on the still air. “Eddie..”

Waylon shifted on the bed, turning around slowly to face the priest as he closed the distance. Waylon’s eyes were still empty hollow sockets, dark and ominous. It made Eddie stop in his tracks. The spidery lines on his skin had faded to translucent blue like veins. The portions where his skin had flaked off seemed to have a ivory coating beneath as if shedding old skin for new like a serpent. His fingers were bloodied bony nubs where the skin had been ripped away but Eddie figured they could tend to that. Just a few bandages here and there, maybe even a blindfold until Waylon’s eyes heal. If they ever heal. “No no no. Don’t be sorry darling.” Eddie murmured, taking a seat on the end of the bed next to the frail form. His hand rested gently on Waylon’s pale hair, the blonde coloring was slowly coming back starting at the roots. He stroked his fingers through them, mindful of his energy against the fragile spirit’s.

“I was so scared that I’d lost you.” Eddie whispered. Waylon closed his eyes, hiding the dark sockets as he moved his head to rest in Eddie’s lap. It was easy to see the frightened child that Waylon had been all those years ago when he was nearing the end of his life. How long Waylon may have been curled up on his bed as so, crying himself to sleep and dreading the coming days or lack thereof. Maybe even sensing his own coming demise. Eddie noticed the flickering of the light inside Waylon, it’s dull hue was struggling to stay lit. How close he had been to losing Waylon for good.

He barely stifled the rough ball of emotion that rose in his throat and threatened to break free. Blinking furiously at the coming tears stinging his eyes. “You’re going to be all better, I promise. We’ll get you fixed up and in no time you’ll be as good as new.” Eddie’s words were precious and sweet as he stroked his hand through the soft pale locks. Making promises he wasn’t certain could really happen but he knew Waylon needed to remain optimistic in order for any change to come. To heal.