The Streets of ex-Los Angeles, Sunday Morning

[spin_kick_snap]

Making their way through the city looked ridiculous, but still beat trying to fight their way past all the exes clamoring at the gate. St. George was flying, carrying Eliot in a makeshift sling. Max clung to his back, bitching about how stupid they probably looked and pointedly ignoring any and all questions about the possibility of levitation. Dante was using some complicated series of jumps and a grappling hook...chain...thing. Max had been fascinated by it from the moment Dante had pulled it out and St. George was doing his best not to wonder where it had been hiding and why it sometimes changed color.

And, a goodly distance behind then fluttered a small, unobtrusive bird that just happened to be flying in the same direction.

As stupid as they all looked - and, in fairness, it was a little stupid - they were making decent time through the city, searching for Josh to hopefully find him and convince him to return to the Mount before Cairax finished worming his way inside the former hero and the possession was complete.

Many of those exes from the gate staggered after them, like paupers to a banquet, their arms raised in a futile attempt to grab and snatch at the heroes passing overhead. They crowd only grew as they flew back and forth across the neighborhood. Some fell behind, but there were always more to join the chase. By the time true dawn broke, there were sixty or seventy exes trailing behind them in a loose fan. They shuffled between cars, dragging against the sides, and added that scraping noise to the sound of their clicking teeth.

They'd been out for well over an hour, but still no sign of Josh.

St. George	St. George panned his eyes across the road again. There were a lot of cars, all covered with dust. It meant lots of places to hide. "Isn't there some kind of locator spell you can cast or something?" He scratched lightly at his chest where Max had painted a lot of weird runes and sigils over his chest. 'Protection runes' he'd called them. Whatever they were, they were damn itchy. And only got moreso as he flew.
Max	"Yeah," Max called back, "but gosh-darn-it, I missed that day at Warthogs." He pointed to a low rooftop nearby, an auto dealership that was only a story high. It would give them a decent view of the street while still keeping them safe from wandering exes. "I'm not really sure what's going on. I didn't think it would take this long to find either of them," he said as they touched down on the roof. "Or for Cairax to find us. I'm not sure why he wasn't right there as soon as we stepped...over...the..." He trailed off and pointed across the street at a small storefront that had once been a ritzy and exclusive art gallery.
Josh	Once. Not anymore, though. The huge picture windows at been smashed ages ago and the weather over the years had not been kind to the paintings within. Though the heroes were probably a lot less interested in ruined art at they were in Josh, standing inside, watching them. He was far enough inside that they never would have seen him if they'd been flying down the center of the street. A deep sigh moved his chest as he locked eyes with St. George. At least thirty exes milled between the dealership and the gallery, making conversation impossible without yelling. Josh gave them a tired smile and a shrug as if to say, What are you gonna do?
Max	"Finally," Max sighed, loosening up his shoulders. "Something for me to do. Haven't been a lot of opportunities for fun and profit back at the Mount, St. George, sorry to say." As he bantered, he put his fists side by side to form a row of tattooed knuckles, then rolled them back to back. He stopped speaking to his companions to mutter a few phrases, pushing his fists forward and opening his hands wide. A few more whispered words, his eyes closed, and he swung his arms far apart from each other.
Exes	Twin clouds of dust and dry leaves rose up and off the street. A few of the cars squealed and lurched in the opposite direction. The exes slid across the pavement as if they were being swept aside. Some of them fell over and kept moving. One of them, a dead woman in shorts and a gory tank top, kept trying to stagger forward even as she was pushed back.
Max	Max opened his eyes and looked at the pristine path across the street. "Looks great when you do it with water," he said. "Very biblical." He stretched a bit, giving everyone a cheeky grin, then rolled his eyes and let his hands drop when he realized no one was about to burst into applause. "It'll stay for awhile," he added. "But probably no more than, say, twenty minutes." Pause. "Don't everyone fall all over themselves at once congratulating me, okay?"
Eliot	"Congratulations," Eliot said dryly. "You did your job." Jesus. At least Hardison had mostly grown out of the begging for praise phase.
St. George	St. George stepped off the rooftop and sailed down to land in the center of the street. His boots tapped the pavement and he took a few cautious steps forward. "Hey Josh," he said, voice pitched to carry into the remains of the gallery where Josh was standing. "We're just here to talk."
Josh	"So many visitors," Josh said, stepping forward. His build was still solid, despite months in a cell with no food, and he stood taller and broader than St. George. His feet were bare and broken glass crackled under them as he walked, leaving a trail of blood. "You and Kathy and now Max and Mystique and...that guy." He waved towards Eliot. "He was here the last time, too. Damn though. So many people, I'm started to feel special."
St. George	"We don't have a lot of time," St. George said. "We've got to get you back inside."
Josh	"Back in my cell, you mean." Josh's hands hung at his side and the withered one twitched at the mention of imprisonment. The sleeves were too short for his arms and the pale bite was just visible past his wrist.
St. George	"Honestly, right now it's just important we get you back inside the Mount," said St. George earnestly. "Even just inside the Big Wall. We can talk there."
Josh	"Oh George," Josh chuckled. "Always the optimist." He started walking again, this time circling St. George, studying the hero like a newly captured specimen from all sides. "I don't think Stealth or the others are going to be in a talking mood. You think Gorgon will wanna have a nice chat?"
St. George	"I know you're not too happy with us," said St. George, slowly spinning in place to keep Josh from getting a clear shot of his back. He once again was scratching at his chest. Ever since he'd started talking to Josh, the runes had been going crazy, like hornets on his skin. Maybe that meant they were working? "I know you've got no reason to go back, but you've got to believe me. We have to go and it'll be quicker if you don't fight."
Josh	Josh retreated back a few steps towards the gallery, the glass crunching against against his bare feet. "And if I did fight?" he asked.
St. George	"Please," St. George said, "we really don't have time. There's something our here looking for you, and if it finds you...it's not going to be good for anyone." "So?" St. George stepped forward, pausing when Josh held up a hand. "Don't give me 'So,'" he said. "You still care about people, Josh. You're still one of the good guys at heart." He nodded at Josh's pal and shriveled right hand. "You've been showing everyone how guilty you feel for years."
Josh	Josh glanced down at his hand and shook his head, crossing back to St. George. They stood eye to eye for a long minute before Josh started pacing again, following the path of bloody footprints staining the pavement. "You're too late, George."
St. George	"We can still work something out," the hero insisted. The itching on his chest was damn near unbearable. "Please, just come back with us. We can make everything--"
Josh	"No," said Josh, completing the circuit and coming to stand once more before St. George, his best and oldest friend. "You're too late." The air screamed as blue fire ripped a hole open into nothingness and out stepped the demon, a dozen feet tall, too loom over the hero. "I've got a friend now, too," Josh continued softly. "Actually, more than one."
Cairax	"Surprise bitch," the demon said, its smooth voice a pleasing baritone with a hint of a British accent. "I bet you'd thought you'd seen the last of me." Apparently demons liked pop culture.
St. George	Without thinking, St. George hurled himself backwards, trying to get away from the demon. He smacked into something, as thick and unyielding as brick, but when he turned, he found nothing there. Nothing, that was, but a double-line of footprints, making an unbroken circle of blood. A warding circle. "Oh Josh no," he said. "Don't. Don't give in. It doesn't have to be this way!"
Cairax	"My dear St. George," the demon said, its eyes pits of blue flame, portholes into a world of cold fire. "It isn't Josh you should be worried about. I found him hours ago. We've just been waiting for you." The demon took a deliberate step forward. Unlike St. George, it passed over the ring of blood with ease. "I appreciate you preparing yourself with me," it added. "This will save us lots of time." And then the demon turned to blue mist and poured itself into the shocked hero in a violation of everything Max had told them.

Eliot	Eliot took a moment to squeeze the bridge of his nose and sigh. Someone really should have seen all this coming. "You're really just determined to screw this whole world over, aren't you, Doc." He scanned the rooftop, looking for the fastest route to street level. Raven could hold her own, and Eliot didn't know a damn thing about fighting demons who could fly (yet, apparently you never knew when you'd fight one of them), but Dr. End-the-World over here, he could at least keep busy.
Josh	Honestly, he didn't really care about the world anymore. He just wanted it to end. Wanted it all to end. Josh watched Eliot approach with a tired expression on his face. This hadn't been in the agreement, exactly, but he knew that he'd be expected to handle it. "You came for Kathy," he said softly once Eliot was close enough to hear. "She doesn't deserve to be here. But it's too late."
Eliot	"Well, you're half-right, anyway." Eliot flexed his fingers, both swords still sheathed on his back for the time being. Cutting this guy wasn't going to buy him much more than punching him would, with that healing factor, so he'd save those for when he needed the reach. "You know, I've done the solitary confinement thing before. It sucks, but that doesn't mean you gotta go crazy and make deals with demons."
Josh	"There's a different between me and you," Josh said, his hands still loose at his sides. "You can die. You have an escape, even locked away in solitary. It's so easy for you to die. Humans do it every day." He looked over at Cairax and shook his head. "It's not so easy for me. It's fucking impossible. So, yeah, I had to make a deal with a demon." And then his eyes fell back on Eliot and there was just...emptiness there. Like everything about the man he'd been had drained out, leaving a hollow shell behind. "I warned her. I told her to get out. That I didn't want her death on my conscience twice. But she didn't listen." He sighed. "She's bad at that."
Eliot	"Hey now," Eliot pointed a finger at Josh. "That's my daughter you're talkin' about." He shook his head, making his way slowly closer. "You don't honestly think that bastard's gonna be polite enough to kill you, do you?" he asked. "Or that death's even gonna be the end for a dick like you?" Really, Josh. You had proof demons existed. You were 100% going to Hell if you ever managed to die.
Josh	"He promised." Josh looked troubled. "Cairax promised that if I did my part, he'd kill me. That's why...that's why..." He shook his head, trying to rid himself of intrusive thoughts. "No. He's bound by his word. And you'd better hope he is." Josh's fist clenched. "Because I made him promise to kill Kathy fast. She won't suffer like everyone else. I owed her that." That was the most he could do for her. Maybe this death would cancel out what he'd owed for the first one. "She and Meredith will be friends up in heaven." He knew he was going to Hell.
Eliot	"You stupid son of a bitch." Eliot was almost more exasperated than angry when he threw the first punch. For all the aggressive creepiness of the situation, the man was really just pathetic. If Dante didn't manage to hold the demon back, on the other hand -- well, then the fatherly wrath would come out in full.
Josh	Josh slid out of the way of the attack, moving with surprising swiftness for a man his size. "This is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me," he said, before bringing a fist almost the size of a ham hurtling towards Eliot's face.
Eliot	Eliot leaned out of the way, arm coming up behind that fist to wrap around Josh's wrist and hold him in place while he spun his opposite elbow at Josh's nose. "Your banter needs work."
Josh	Josh's nose exploded into a gout of blood and his voice was thick when he said, "Kind of out of practice talking to people." The blood had dried and his voice cleared before the last word was out.
Eliot	"I'm cool with not talking," Eliot offered, throwing the elbow at Josh's face again. Honestly, the whole "banter while fighting" thing was amateur hour.
Josh	And yet it had been de rigeur for the heroes of LA. No wonder Kathy had learned such bad habits. Again, Josh didn't even bother to dodge. He'd ripped out his own teeth tendons in order to escape The Cellar. A broken nose was nothing to him these days; a brief flare of pain that was healed almost before it registered. But it did leave him free to aim a hard punch at Eliot's kidney, since he wasn't worried about leaving himself open to Eliot's attack.
Eliot	Eliot took the hit with no more than a grunt, shifting just enough to minimize the damage. It wasn't often he went up with someone with even better endurance than he had. If Josh had ever had any real fight training, he might even be a little worried. . . . He released Josh's other arm and spun away, moving to wrap his arm around Josh's neck from behind instead. Breaking Kathy's neck last time he was here had messed him up, but Josh's? Well, he was mostly just hoping it'd slow the man down for a couple minutes.
Josh	He'd be living the dream of any number of people if he managed to snap Josh's neck, regardless of whether it stuck. Nick, for one, might try to find some of that black market booze to buy Eliot a drink. Josh let Eliot get a firm grip, even waited for the pressure on his throat to grow painful. And then he was trying to get a grip onto Eliot just before flinging himself backwards onto the asphalt with as much force as he could muster from a standstill.
Eliot	The thing about breaking people's necks: you wanted to be braced in case they struggled. Eliot shifted with the movement, taking a step back to make sure he stayed on his feet, and used Josh's own leverage to wrench his head around for the snap before letting him drop to the ground. "You done, yet?"
Josh	Josh's neck rotated unnaturally back around with an audible click as the two halves of his spine reconnected and fused. "Not even a little bit," he said, pushing himself up and bumrushing Eliot.
Eliot	"Oh for --" Eliot caught the rush in the midsection, wrapping his arms around Josh as he knocked him to the ground. Broken glass grated into his back, but Eliot paid it no mind, somersaulting through Josh's momentum and using it to fling the man away. This fight wasn't even fun. Josh had no idea about tactics other than just bouncing back. Stupid immortal idiot nutjob.
Josh	Honestly, that was usually enough to get the job done. Get shot six or seven times and still serial killer walk towards someone was generally all it took to break their nerve. Even so, this wasn't really a fight Josh wanted. It was just the way that it had to be. Cairax needed to win do Josh could die. Simple as that. What he was doing now was just keeping Eliot busy until the end had come. Which was why Josh was turning around and coming right for Eliot again, with all the grace and skill of a train.
Eliot	Eliot side-stepped, grabbing for the back of Josh's neck to drive that train into the wall. "You gotta stop with the rushes, man. This is getting embarrassing." Congratulations, Josh! You've unlocked Eliot's "teachable moment" feature!
Josh	He'd be doing far better if his tooth-and-muscle whip and his bone-shank hadn't been confiscated, all right? God, everyone was a critic. "Sorry if I'm not being proper entertainment," Josh rumbled, taking two fast jabs at Eliot as he bounced off the wall. "You're always free to go."
Eliot	He could make new ones! Eliot didn't mind breaking some bones for him. He blocked the first and absorbed the second. He'd feel that later, but right now he was aiming the base of his palm at Josh's larynx. "You sold out my daughter," he said. "I ain't goin' anywhere till that gets paid for."
Josh	"I TRIED!" Josh roared, lashing out much faster and harder than he had up until this point. He gathered what little form he still remembered, actually trying to hurt Eliot now instead of just killing time. "WHY DOESN'T ANYONE EVER ACKNOWLEDGE THAT I TRIED?! I just...made a mistake, is all. Just, a mistake."
Eliot	Aww, hey, Eliot actually felt that one now! See? Josh was learning. "You hid," he said. "That's why."
Josh	And he wasn't letting up, swinging blow after blow after blow. Even his gnarled had was punching, though doing remarkably little damage. "Not. From. Kathy!" Josh yelled. "I thought she was going to be okay! I just needed to rest! But I tried! I didn't want her to die!"
Eliot	Eliot blocked what he could and took the rest. He was more than used to fighting through broken ribs, battered kidneys, ringing ears, or a broken nose. It'd been a little while since he'd done it with all of those at once, but hey. He'd live. "Sorry man, no brownie points for 'too little, too late'."

Cairax	St. George's clothes shredded apart and his entire body turned inside out, twisting along unnatural lines and angles. Gleaming bones and stringy muscle and glistening organs hung in the air, all painted and dripping with blood. His insides churned along those strange angles and then they pulled together and were back where they belonged, hidden beneath the flesh. Not the same flesh, though, but an amalgamation of St. George and Cairax Murrain. A crown of curling horns wrapped around its skull and became a crest down its long back. Its tail whipped back and forth like an enraged snake. But it didn't stop to revel in its victory. Instead, the demon straightened up and pointed at St. George's old compatriots. "Nephilim," it thundered. "Sparda's get. Such a delight to see you again."
Dante	"Sorry, but even plastic surgery hasn't made that face less fucking ugly," Dante snarled, swaggering out from the rest of them with Arbiter - massive war axe that it was - leaning idly on his shoulder like it didn't weigh anything. "Go back home and try again, asshole. Or better yet, stay there."
Cairax	"Insolent whelp, just like your father," Cairax sneered, a whip of blue flame appearing in his hand. "And we saw where that got him. Imprisoned and enchained. Once the greatest of the Reaver Lords and now statuary in someone's garden. How pathetic."
Dante	"And yet he's still more handsome than you. That's gotta kill you inside, right?" Dante broke off into a dash without warning, leaping high up into the sky - and brought the waraxe down hard.
Cairax	Cairax slid out of the way with a smooth grace, moving faster than any mere human could have dreamed. The waraxe missed him by scant inches, enough to make the tatters of St. George's clothing shiver in the breeze. "Too slow, half-breed," he said with a sharp laugh. "If anyone needs to worry about what's killing them inside...!" He snapped the whip forward with a sharp flick of his wrist. The air screamed as it shot forward at Dante's midsection
Dante	Dante reacted instantly, dashing back a few steps so the whip found nothing but thin air. "Fine, if you want to play it like that," he growled, the axe reshaping itself into thick stone gauntlets as he flipped his momentum around and hurled himself at Cairax.
Cairax	"You think those will impress me, little toy?" the demon roared, more blue flame leaping to life all around him. "I'm Cairax Murrain, the Reaver Lord of the Abyss! I'll drag you to Hell and rend you to tiny pieces in front of your faithless father!"
Dante	"You got a crush on my dad or something?" Dante said. "Shit, I don't think you're his type!" He was gonna punch at those knees. Hard.
Cairax	The first punch earned a small grunt when it impacted. The second didn't even do that much. And then Cairax was swinging his leg back, intending to kick Dante right in the ribs. "More his type than your mother," he crooned. "Might as well lay down with dogs as one of her kind."
Dante	Dante slid out of the way in a split second, Cairax's leg scraping by carapace as he blinked into and out of his demon form. "What'd you just say about my mother?!"
Cairax	"I'd call her the red-haired whore of Babylon, but that's too good for her," Cairax said, lip curling. "If anything, she's the beast upon which the harlot rides." The whip struck out again and again, six more barbed tails separating from the main lash to snap at the air. "Even less than that, I call your mother nothing."
Dante	"Right, you're gonna pay for that," Dante grunted. The whip curled around his arm, and all the scales in the world weren't going to stop that from hurting. Thank fuck for his new Devil Trigger form, he guessed, as white-and-red bled into the world around him.
Cairax	And Cairax? Just looked at him and laughed. "So you did inherit some measure of your father's power," he said. "I'll take it from you once I've stripped the skin from your bones, half-breed." Those angry fists weren't going to hurt him any more than the axe could have. He was playing by a whole new set of rules.
Dante	"You keep saying that like it's an insult," Dante grunted. Okay. Fists weren't working. How about claws? He swiped at the whip with razor-tipped fingers.
Cairax	Dante's claws cut through the whip, but it was made of flame. As soon as they passed through, the whip reformed - and, with a backwards flick of his hand, Cairax tried to wrap it around Dante's throat. "Because it is," he hissed. "You're just too stupid to realize it. You are nothing. Your lineage starts in the gutter. Exactly where I'm going to leave you."
Dante	This time, Dante was fast enough, leaping over the whip - and over Cairax's head, landing neatly on the ground behind him. "Better a fucking gutter rat than a stinking, ugly, stuck-up pig like you," he snarled, kicking out at Cairax's back.
Cairax	Cairax didn't bother to dodge. "Cute trick," he said, not reacting to the kick, either. "Perhaps instead I'll bring you to my menagerie and let you do tricks while I devour your friends one at a time. I'll ask dear Maxwell which one I should start with first - the boy or the girl."
Dante	"I'm gonna fucking shove Max through your throat, is what I'm going to do." Shit. Okay. Now what? The gauntlets on his hands shifted back into Arbiter. He pushed errant Devil Trigger energy into it, slamming it down, once, twice, thrice, until the energy itself formed a blade and came crashing down on the demon.
Cairax	Cairax lifted a hand, catching the scythe by the haft, and shoved, flinging Dante halfway down the street like a ragdoll. "Enough playtime, boy," he sneered, unhinging his jaw like a snake and showing off row after row of serrated teeth.
Zzzap	Light flashed between them. A sonic boom cracked the air. Zzzap placed himself between Dante and the demon and light flared from his back, looking for a moment like a pair of large wings. A creature composed of radiance and will, shaped in God's image. A man made of light and thought. *Legion! Now!*
Legion	A dozen more exes broke through Max's barrier, the one in the lead brandishing a bright silver sword. It looked like a cavalry officer's sword, something rummaged up from a museum most likely. "Hey, fuckface!" the ex shouted. "You wanna mess with me, huh? Catch this, carajo!" And it flung the sword straight at Cairax Murrain like a javelin.
Zzzap	Zzzap reached out an arm so the sword passed right through his hand. The blade dissolved into a stream of steel and silver. The intricate engraving blurred together and was gone. The leather grip incinerated, a small cloud of ash that vanished in a swirl of superheated air. Almost a third boiled away to vapor and broke apart in the furnace that was Zzzap's body, reduced to mere atoms. What was left slammed into Cairax Murrain's chest, glowing white-hot.
Cairax	And Cairax Murrain stared down incredulously at the burning shard of metal protruding from his chest... ...And began to laugh. "This?" he asked. "This was your best plan? Have a light show freak lob a scimitar at me?" He roared with laughter through his forest of tusks and fangs, almost slapping a knee. "You think this could stop the Reaver Lord of Hell? Max told you fools already - you need a sword wielded by an angel, not some discount weapon prop tossed through an overclocked LED." That laugh turned into a howl of fury. "You are all nothing to me!" he shrieked. "The only thing you humans are good for are your screams!" Cairax whirled back around to Dante, pointing a giant finger at him. "Too bad Sparda didn't remember that when he gave you mother his seed!"
Dante	Dante had watched the whole thing go down with big eyes - jesus fucking christ! - that had turned ever so briefly to despair when Cairax had laughed it off. The red had faded from his features by the time he finished speaking. The scales had vanished, as had the carapace. Instead he looked human. A bright, white human, with blue cracks spidering through his face under the threat of Cairax's pointing finger. "You're such a fucking idiot," he said, a broad grin spreading across his face as Arbiter reformed into a sword. "You think my mother was a human? My mom was a fucking Seraphim, you disgusting, dumbass douchebag."
Cairax	That managed to throw Cairax off his stride. "What?" he demanded, taking a step back as Rebellion appeared in Dante's hand. "Your mother - no. She was just a mortal. Mundus wouldn't have allowed - the Host would never have allowed..."
Dante	"Mundus is dead, I killed him," Dante spat, though he had no idea if that was true of this universe as well. He stepped towards Cairax, his eyes narrowing. "My parents told him where to shove it."
Cairax	Cairax took another step back and then a second. So much of magic came from belief. From symbols handed down from generation to generation. The idea of a warrior angel with a flaming sword had built up power in the collective unconscious of humanity that it remained a potent symbol even after mankind turned away from the myths and legends that had spawned it. Nobody had really believed Zzzap was an angel, especially not Zzzap. But Sparda's get...he didn't just believe. He knew. He had a sword and the blood of angels singing in his veins. And for the first time since Max Hale had summoned him under a dark eclipse, Cairax Murrain knew fear.
Dante	Fucking finally. No more shit talking. Dante shot forward, sword-first, stabbing Rebellion into his flesh a thousand times in just a few split seconds. He dragged the sword up after, not wanting to let up. Fuck you, Cairax.
Cairax	Cairax wore St. George's body like armor. In all of the years St. George had been a super-hero, the only thing that had managed to pierce his skin was one of Cairax Murrain's own tusks. And now this sword, punching through this body like a needle through paper. He tried to run, hooves thudding against the pavement, trampling a dead woman beneath them. He brushed a trio of exes out of the way with a sweep of his arm. Then it glanced down.
Exes	The three exes had wrapped their arms tight around the demon's overlong forearm. Each one held on without biting, or even gnashing their teeth at the air. They glared up at the demon. "You ready for round two, pinche pendejo?" they asked in unison. Cairax had time to snarl before more exes pounced on it, every ex within the barrier charging for him. They aimed at his arms and his legs, not trying to do damage but just to slow him down, tangle his footing, keep him in place for Dante to finish the job. "Your lucky day, pretty boy," one of the exes growled out to Dante. "Cause I actually hate this fucking thing more'n I hate those assholes in the Mount."
Dante	"This is the weirdest fucking thing," Dante said, "But thanks." He jumped up - and stabbed the blade home, straight through the center of Cairax's chest, flooding it with the energy pulsing in his veins. Thank you, mom. Funny. His skin prickled when he channeled her.
Cairax	Rebellion slid like hot butter past the scales and spikes and muscle, just barely missing his heart. And Cairax - well, Cairax panicked. He'd originally chosen St. George to be his vessel because St. George was invulnerable and everyone on the Mount knew it. Between that belief and the symbolism around his own rebirth, he'd believed nothing could harm him. Now, staring down at the lifeblood pouring down around the sword, he realized he'd made the wrong choice. And he had only seconds to rectify it. He could feel his essence unraveling, the angelic energy not just killing him but unmaking him. Once more, Cairax fled; his spiritual essence abandoning this vessel for one last, desperate chance at survival.
St. George	Leaving St. George gasping on Dante's blade like a dying fish. "Don't...don't worry about me," he wheezed, words barely audible. "Stop him. Save...the Mount."
Dante	Dante yanked that blade out of St. George's body like it was on fire, his skin flaring back down to pink instead of white. He nodded. "Just get your ass somewhere safe," he said, and turned around, and went.
Exes	St. George nodded once and took two wobbly steps forwards before collapsing in a bloody heap. A moment later, he felt himself getting rolled over. Peering up through eyes that didn't want to focus properly, he saw several rotting faces staring down at him with identical grins. "Well, what we got here?" they asked in unison. "You don't look so good, dragon man." And the last thing George felt before losing consciousness entirely was the sensation of being lifted up and carried away.

Raven	The little bird that had followed them out perched on the end of the roof opposite the group, looking like it was after nothing more than a place to rest its wings. And if that tired little bird always seemed to keep Max in its field of vision, well. Surely that was a coincidence, right?
Max	Back on the rooftop, Max sighed. "Well, I suppose if this is the time for shocking revelations..." He pressed him palms hard against each other and a crackle of static surrounded his hands, like the St. Elmo's fire that marked doomed ships. And then he turned his palms outwards towards Raven, sending a crackling bolt of electricity into her chest. Raven went flying backwards, off the roof and Max followed after her, walking on steps of solid air. "I told you to watch your back," he said. "You're not going to believe me, but I'm really sorry it had to go down like this."
Raven	Hey, he was right: Raven didn't believe him. She was going to start practicing multiple sets of eyes more after this. See if she didn't. There weren't many ways to make an organic body immune to electricity, and she hadn't had enough experience with it to shake it off quickly, so she was still sprawled on the ground as Max started towards her, teeth gritted and muscles twitching. She'd lost the bulk she'd picked up since Hardison got the portal open, too, her body having reverted back to its natural form. She was just a helpless little blue girl, Max. Why were you so mean?
Max	Because he'd spent something like nine months getting tortured by Cairax Murrain while they'd both been trapped in the zombified body. That was nine physical months. Cairax had adjusted his sense of time so it felt more like nine centuries. Max was perfectly willing to sell out every single person in the Mount right down to infants and the elderly to get out of experiencing that again. "You should have left her here," Max said, landing lightly on the ground next to her. He shot another jolt of electricity at her. "I mean, c'mon. Coming back for Banzai twice? That's a little much. Would she do the same for you? I don't think so. I'm sorry you're caught up in this, Mystique." Just not sorry enough to let her live.
Raven	Raven lay sprawled, her face pressed into the asphalt, a soft, almost choking sound coming from her throat. How sad would it be if he really managed to end her here? After surviving the better part of a year in this hellhole, walking from one end of the continent to the other, on top of everything Fandom and her own world had ever thrown at her? The sound she was making resolved itself into a rough chuckle. Yeah. That was not going to happen. Did you know rubber was organic*? And a natural insulator. . . . [*At least organic enough for superhero physics, true believers! —Ed.]
Max	You know what organic rubber wasn't though? Fireproof. You needed other chemicals for that. And as soon as Max saw that his electricity was no longer doing the job, that's what he switched to. "I'd offer to let you run away while everyone else is distracted," he continued, because he was a villain now, right? Might as well monologue. "But you're too dog-loyal. You'd come right back." Flames poured from his hands at her flesh. "Pity, too. I bet shapeshifters are a lot of fun."
Raven	When the flames cleared his vision, he'd find the blue girl no longer there. 'Cause, see, shapeshifter. That organic rubber had bought her enough time to get small. She darted around Max in rabbit form, ignoring the singing of her fur, then slammed back into full size to aim a now-brick-dense fist at the top of his spine. He talked too much.
Max	Max flew forward, fetching up against the side of an abandoned car. "Owww!" he wailed, staggering for a moment. When he stood up again, his eyes were blazing with fury. "That hurt you bitch!" he screamed, sending another gout of flame at her.
Raven	Kind of slow on the uptake too, wasn't he. Raven dropped and rolled (because, you know, fire!), right at Max's legs. And if the weight of an ever more-dense woman ramming his shins didn't work, well, she had some claws and teeth thrown in for good measure. Hurting was the point.
Max	Look, Max hadn't done a lot of fighting in his own body. That was what the Sativus Medallion and Carirax Murrain's physical form had been for. "You are a serious pain in the ass!" Max yelped, dragging up slabs of asphalt to shield his legs from Raven's bulldozing. And then dragged up a few more for good measure, trying to box her in.
Raven	Raven went small again just in time to escape that boxing in, though she left a layer of skin behind doing it. She wasn't the sort to let that sort of thing stop her, though, and she sprang back up behind him again, this time swinging an impossibly high kick at his head.
Max	Max's teeth clacked together at his head snapped forward, pain bursting down his neck and spine. He staggered into the car once again. This was getting old. Really old. Max had signed up for this to stop the pain, not court more of it. And so he pressed his palms together so his fingertips touched his wrists to freeze Mystique in place. And then dropped one section of the barrier storm, letting the exes stagger in.
Raven	Raven stopped dead, mid-snarl, unable to so much as twitch as the exes started to close in. She hadn't bothered to thicken her scales much while fighting Max -- she couldn't not plate up at all, not in Kathy's world, but she'd needed all the speed she could get. She heard the clack clack as the exes approached, and every fiber of her body fought against Max's spell, desperate to bulk up, hulk out, destroy before those things could lay even a single hand on her, but instead she shrank, falling subtly in on herself in the cocoon of magic, her blood and organs pulling together under thickening skin in a desperate bid for survival.
Max	About six exes staggered inside the barrier before Max repaired it, slowly heading over towards them. Max took several steps back, keeping the rock barrier between him and the exes and leaving Mystique standing alone before them, her bright blue skin a beacon for their gray eyes. Zzzap flew by overhead, made his announcement about being an angel, but Max didn't even turn to look. He knew how that was going to end and it wasn't in the heroes' favor. The first of the exes reached Mystique and started to scrabble, broken nails trying to find purchase to rend and tear.
Raven	Raven struggled, but couldn't get out of Max's magic grip, so she had to simply settle for glaring daggers at him while she continued to compact herself internally. It hurt, in ways that shifting didn't normally, but this was far from a normal situation. And the pain was more than worth it, if it meant the ex biting down on her arm couldn't break the skin.
Max	"Sorry it had to end this way, Mystique," Max called and he did sound sorry. "I promise, though, you won't walk. I'll give you that much." And then Zzzap flew by overhead, close enough to the the ground that the temperature spiked and the light grew blinding. Unthinking, Max threw an arm over his eyes, turning away... His gesture broken, Mystique was free to move once more.
Raven	Raven burst into motion, swiftly shifting her hand into a spike to stab through the ex's head, then spinning around to lunge after Max, fully intent on impaling him through the chest. Head shots were merciful, after all. She wanted Max to feel this.
Max	More exes came through the barrier, one of them carrying a sword, but they didn't seem to notice either Raven or Max. The remaining exes that had been clustered around her turned to join their undead brethren, leaving the mutant and the sorcerer to their own little showdown. Max stumbled out of the way, off-balance. The spike got him through the side and he screamed, the noise like a rabbit, high-pitched and thin. He tried to shoot more fire at her, but pain made his motions sloppy; more like a sparkler than a flamethrower
Raven	Was it wrong that that rabbit noise made her mouth water a little? It probably was, right? Look, she'd basically lived on rabbits for awhile there, and she'd hunted them all herself! Raven brushed off the fire attack, even as it burned the outer layer of her skin. She was still so thick from Max's last magic trick that she didn't even feel it. She shifted her other hand into a long, flat blade, and swung at Max's neck, then brought the spike to bear again, this time at his stomach. Forget the rabbit thing. The wanting to kill this guy slow, that was what people should probably be worried about.
Max	Max had time to make exactly one shield and that went between her hand and his neck. The spike sank through the soft flesh of his belly, earning another scream. He tried to move, but all it did was tear something else inside him. He tried to speak, but spat up a mouthful of blood instead. "Fu-huck," he breathed, the word thick and wet.
Raven	Raven shifted a hook into the end of the spike, using it to drag Max in close, all but nose to nose. "Don't worry," she said, voice rough, quiet, and not entirely human. Her teeth had points. "You won't walk." And she twisted the spike, hook and all, before yanking it free.
Max	Max shook and coughed up another spray of red. His eyes fluttered and he looked at Raven - and past her, where Dante was claiming his mother's divine heritage. "Ahhh," he croaked. "So...you've won." It wasn't a done deal, but it didn't have to be. Max understood the power of belief. "Congrat..." He coughed again, hand pressed against the hole in his stomach. Some things had exited with Raven's spike. He probably needed those. Or would, if survival had been on the docket. It wasn't. He'd done this enough times to know. The little magic he had left was just buying him a few more minutes.
Raven	Raven let him slide to the ground, then pinned him there with her foot on his neck before glancing up to see what Dante and the others were up to. She looked . . . unmoved by the sight. She'd be unmoved by anything short of LA burning to the ground at this point. Or Kathy, flashing her a peace sign while they stepped back through the portal and left this place for dead.
Max	Max gurgled something on the ground. "He's gon-gonna win. Dant'. Good. Glad..." Max managed a weak smile. "Was on your side all along. Every word I said...almost ev'ry though I had..." Max paused to in some air and the wound in his stomach wheeze. It was a wet sound. "...had t'convince Cairax I was his. But instead...all t'get..." He lifted, trying to point.
Raven	Raven rolled her eyes at that. Seriously, Max, you just tried to kill her, and now you wanted her to believe you were on her side? She pressed down harder with her foot against his neck and bent double at the waist so she could bring her face close to his again. "You talk too much." And she set her spike through his left eye and out the back of his head.

Josh	At this point, Josh wasn't sure how he and Eliot were still standing. Yes, he was the Immortal, he was Regenerator, but, fuck, he still got tired. He felt like he'd been trading blows with Eliot for hours; it was an act of willpower every time he raised his good arm to throw a punch. How Eliot was still on his feet was a mystery. But there he was, bruised and bleeding, but still ready to keep-- And then the dark swirl of power that was Cairax Murrain swept around him and poured into his body, filling him up and trying to shunt his soul off to the side. What?! No! he silently howled. This isn't what we agreed!
Cairax	*You agreed to do my bidding, human fool,* Cairax snarled, his growling fury unable to completely mask the thread of fear. *Now stop struggling! I'll grant you the death you crave just as soon as I destroy this half-breed Nephilim bastard!*
Eliot	Eliot eyed Josh suspiciously. Any other fight and he'd wonder if he'd finally beaten the guy into submission, but this was a man who shrugged off a snapped neck, so that didn't seem likely. He drew his wakizashi, not wanting to get too close if this turned out to be a trap, and reached forward to jab Josh gently in the shoulder. "You still in there, Doc?"
Josh	Josh dragged his eyes up to Eliot's face, the sheer strain of focusing on something evident in his face. "Only...barely," he gritted out, sweat pouring down his forehead. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. "You...were right."
Eliot	Eliot rolled his eyes. "No shit, bubba." He spun his sword around in a lazy circle, then slammed it forward again, through Josh's ribs and into the wall behind him. "Now be a good idiot and stay there so the kid can actually finish this for you, alright?"
Josh	"He...will?" Josh asked, locking eyes with Eliot one more time. "You promise?"
Eliot	This guy was pathetic, but Eliot figured everyone deserved a little bit of hope before they died. "Yeah, Doc. You're all done."
Josh	Josh nodded and sighed. "Do it," he said, voice hoarse. "Don't...let--" And then he started to scream. "Now! Do it now!"
Eliot	Eliot let go of his sword and backed up, leaving plenty of room for Dante to work.
Dante	Dante didn't hesitate. It had been a long, no good couple of days, he was fucking sick and tired of this shit and Cairax-- deserved to go screaming back to whatever hell Mundus was in now. He shot forward, sword drawn. Didn't think about the last time he'd done this, face to face with a mirror image of-- Didn't think. Just carved straight through Josh's chest in one fluid motion, as if he was in one place one moment, and on the other the next, with nothing but blood on Rebellion's edge to prove he had moved.
Josh	For a moment, nothing happened. One of the exes clinging tight to Josh lifted it's head. "Ey?" it asked. "What you--" And then an explosion of pure blue flame rushed up from the ground, swallowing Josh, the exes, and part of the wall in it. The resulting roar was so loud it was more felt than heard. The nearby buildings shifted on their foundations, cars crashed into one another, and every body within a hundred yards went flying as everything went white.
Raven	Raven was at a lucky angle -- she went flying, sure, but not as hard as she could, and into the side of an SUV, built to crumple, and not, say, a wall. She stumbled back to her feet after only a few moments, squinting through the after-image to try and take in the scene. It looked like a bomb had gone off. Like it should be featured in black and white on the cover of a magazine about war. At the middle of the cleared, scorched area where Josh had been was nothing more than a vaguely person-shaped outline of soot, and what she guessed were bits of charred bone. Raven leaned down, not quite willing to trust her clearing vision completely yet. She poked one of the bone bits, then straightened up and spat. "Heal from that, jackass."

[And that's 2 for 2 of finale posts! Preplayed with rebelseekspizza and tigerundercover/vdistinctive and, did I mention how everyone in this plot has been a goddamned hero?! BECAUSE THEY ARE. Anyway, bits and pieces taken from Chapters Twenty-Seven up through Thirty-Four (which is a surprisingly large spread for how little text I actually used) of Ex-Communication by Peter Clines. WARNING FOR NPC DEATHS. NFB! Previous post]

Comments

The Aftermath

[spin_kick_snap]

It was still early morning. The battle felt like it should have lasted so much longer, but it hadn't; barely an hour had gone by since they'd first touched down on the roof of the car dealership. But now two more of LA's heroes lay dead and the demon they'd served, too. St. George lay on the ground, looking like he'd gone ten rounds inside a blender. A pile of exes had shielded him from the blast, but he was still in dire need of medical attention from a sword through his gut. Zzzap had streaked back to the Mount to carry word ten minutes ago, and they could hear the loud engine of one of the Mount's trucks on its way to pick the injured hero up.

And, beneath that, the chattering of the exes. They hadn't transgressed the blast radius, but they stood, watching. Waiting. Clacking their hundreds of jaws in unison.

[Last thread in ex-Los Angeles! For those there and NFB]

Re: The Aftermath

[vdistinctive]

There weren't a whole lot of things that could knock Eliot out and keep him that way. Getting thrown by a blast of demonic/angelic energy into the side of a car dealership? Totally one of them.

Everything about today sucked.

Re: The Aftermath

[spin_kick_snap]

"Dad?" Kathy's feet were bare on the pavement; apparently sacrificial dresses didn't come with shoes. But most of the glass had slagged and fused with the pavement - and even if it hadn't, she wasn't going to let that stop her from getting to Eliot.

Eliot, who looked far too still. "Dad? Dad!"

Re: The Aftermath

[vdistinctive]

Eliot lifted his head just enough to peer blearily around while he got his bearings. It only took a few seconds before he started to stumble to his feet.

He was way too used to this sort of thing.

"Kathy. You're okay?"

Re: The Aftermath

[rebelseekspizza]

The blast from Cairax's death hadn't done much to Dante, besides shove him several feet away from Josh's body. Or what was left of it now, he guessed.

He swallowed, his eyes darting towards the wall of exes, across the battlefield, and...

Oh.

He took a few steps, and looked closer.

Yeah. That was Max.

"Fucking sleazy scumbag," he muttered. It sounded more like a lament than a curse.

Was anybody going to be sad about Max? Mourn the guy? Dante doubted it. He was gonna tell himself that was the only reason he felt a twinge of something like regret.

Re: The Aftermath

[tigerundercover]

Raven looked over at Dante, bits of Max still clinging to the scales on her hands, and offered him a small nod, one killer to another.

Kathy shouldn't have to worry about this world ever again.

Re: The Aftermath

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante was willing to kill at least four more Cairaxes if he had to, to make it so.

And regret or no, he couldn't find it in himself to disagree with Raven's choices here, either.

So he returned the nod, coupled it with a thin smile.

At least it was over.

Re: The Aftermath

[spin_kick_snap]

Kathy had been running over to cling to him, but paused as she saw his expression. "Dante?" she asked, slowing. "Who are - oh."

Max.

Re: The Aftermath

[rebelseekspizza]

"Yeah," Dante said. "Raven took him out."

Then he looked up, and saw her, and-- "Kathy! The fuck?!"

Re: The Aftermath

[spin_kick_snap]

Kathy waited until the truck stopped to fling herself out of it, down to the ground and towards her people. Zzzap had interrupted her debrief with Stealth, so she was still wearing the oversized nightgown with blood on the side and all down her arm, but who cared about that?

She was already winded by the time she crossed into the blast radius but it didn't matter. Not when she was flinging her arms around people, so glad that they were all alive.

Re: The Aftermath

[tigerundercover]

Um, Raven did. Raven definitely cared about that. As she was making very clear with her disapproving look from the bloodstain to Kathy's face.

YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO END UP BLEEDING, KATHY, THAT WASN'T ALLOWED.

Re: The Aftermath

[spin_kick_snap]

"It's okay, I'm okay," Kathy told her, dragging her into the biggest, squeeziest, Kathiest hug she'd ever gotten possibly ever. "Anders healed the bite before--he healed the bite. I'm okay."

Re: The Aftermath

[smilestopscars]

Ezra didn't rush to anyone after he got off the truck. Just stood there, ran a hand through his hair, absently brushed some gunk off his sleeve.

He was still very much spattered with blood, but he didn't care about that. He just wanted them to get out of this hellhole of a world, as quickly as possible.

Re: The Aftermath

[rebelseekspizza]

They didn't have long before they had to leave. And everybody wanted to leave, too, as fast as possible.

There wasn't any way Dante could justify taking the time to do what he actually wanted to do. So instead, right before they filed out into a parting sea of exes, he found a husk of a car, put his hands under the hood... and wrenched that sheet of metal right off the chassis.

Max had been an absolute shithead in life, but nobody deserved to rot away in the middle of nowhere.

Putting that sheet of metal down over the man's wrecked body was going to have to do. So that's what Dante was going to do.

(That scared, lost fucking look Max had had on his face for five seconds, on top of that building, before he reverted to being an asshole - that was going to haunt him for a while.)

Home Sweet Home

[spin_kick_snap]

The portal opened on the Causeway, spilling the Fandom folks out onto the familiar asphalt. Hardison stood by, fingers on his keyboard, ready to shut it as soon as the last person exited.

"Oh god, oh god, I'm home," Kathy said, and promptly burst into happy tears, laughing and hiccuping sobs at the same time.

Look, it had been a very long day. For everybody.

[For broadcast and SO MUCH SP. Pings up through Monday welcome since this is going up so late.]

Re: Home Sweet Home

[rebelseekspizza]

"Thank fuck," Dante breathed, and reached for her hand.

Re: Home Sweet Home

[spin_kick_snap]

Kathy clung to his hand in a death grip, trying to stop her stupid tears.

It wasn't working all that great, to be honest.

Re: Home Sweet Home

[vdistinctive]

Eliot had turned down any offers of healing before climbing through the portal, pointing out in no uncertain terms that there were still zombies running around, and their one magic healer had said that healing bite wounds took a lot out of him. And anyway, he'd healed up broken ribs and a concussion plenty of times before.

The ruptured eardrums were a little newer, but he could still mostly hear out of his left ear, so whatever. Just meant that the inevitable lecture from Hardison and Parker would be a little muffled.

He took a moment to spot Kathy and get visual confirmation again that she was back and in one piece, then headed stiffly towards where Hardison was waiting. Maybe they could finally talk Parker into one of those old-timey nurse outfits. . . .

Re: Home Sweet Home

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Hardison wasn't even going to take the time to complain about germs, or ick, or the state of his boyfriend. He was just going to set his computer down - okay, closer to throw it down - and wrap his arms around Eliot in a big, tight, loving hug.

No words just yet. Just gratitude they were home.

Re: Home Sweet Home

[tigerundercover]

Raven watched the portal close behind them, then shrank back down to her natural size so fast it left her reeling. Her knees gave out and she sat down hard, then tried to cover by turning into an exhausted stretch.

Her every molecule hurt. She'd let herself get so out of shape since the end of that walk to Baltimore.

Re: Home Sweet Home

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Good to see you again, TA," Hardison said, with a subtle emphasis on you. The girl he'd seen when they'd left was not the TA he knew. "Got somethin' for you."

And he was holding out an insulated bag of Hot Pockets, still warm. "All your favorites."

Food was a love language. Eliot had taught him that.

Re: Home Sweet Home

[whoisalicewhite]

"Do you need a blanket? Or a Snuggie?"

Parker came prepared, okay?

Re: Home Sweet Home

[smilestopscars]

Ezra was tired. Tired and gross and a little empty, somehow. As soon as he was out of the portal, his phone was out.

You can stop dividing my belongings now, my little éclairs.

That was how you informed family you weren't dead.

Re: Home Sweet Home

[spin_kick_snap]

"Ezra..." Kathy said, coming up beside him. She looked like a wisp of her former self, too-thin and drowning in a too-large nightgown, the only real color to her the dark of her hair and the browning red of the blood still streaked.

She was standing downwind from him, trying to keep the scent of that blood from being overwhelming. She knew it wasn't much, but it was the best she had right now.

"I just..." She shook her head with a self-deprecating smile. "Will it be too much if I give you a hug?"

OOC

[spin_kick_snap]

OH MY GOD, FINALLY DONE. This has been an insane labor of love for the last, like, four or five months? And I can't thank my partners in crime enough for putting up with me through it!

So thanks first to vdistinctive for playing not one but two people in this and also helped out at the 11th hour with coding, as well as the collaboration of rebelseekspizza, not_every_mage, and smilestopscars for pitching in time and energy and effort to pull off this monstrosity.

I love you all. Now to collapse and drink heavily.