Call Me: write a drabble about one character asking for another.
OCs: Whumpee!Arch and Caretaker!Paimon.
CW: None.
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It was a gentle floating, whirling feeling. Like being on a playground swing, steadily climbing to its apex from which there was no descent. If it were real, Arch would have doubled over in nausea by now, but they didn’t because there was no reason to. The darkness granted the illusion of no movement at all, despite what was otherwise felt. They were traveling farther than they had ever traveled before in their mind- in this space they believed to be their mind; an imagined Labyrinth, merely devised in a dream and created out of pure, pathetic need.
They wondered when they would see her. They hoped they might find her. Call out to her somehow.
“Mom!?”
The darkness continued to whirl through the Labyrinth without a sound. Arch’s voice was lost to the darkness too, as though it was sucked up through a vacuum. Without any solid forms to echo their voice back to them, there wasn’t even the illusion that they were not alone.
“Mom!?”
The more they cried out, the more they felt lost in the solitary prison. Maybe mom was calling out too, Arch hoped, maybe I just can’t hear her… Maybe she can’t hear me…
The smallest beacon of light shone at a distance and with sudden charge, Arch flew toward it, and it grew bigger with every moment that passed.
“Mom? Is that you?”
They picked up their pace, and then realized that the light had passed them by already- the strange place had done a number on their sense of distance and time. They turned back and stopped. The light was there, floating by on its own accord and choosing its own direction to travel. Arch simply watched as the light continued on, unresponsive to their cries.
“Mom… Please… Is that you?” Arch could feel themselves crying, though there was nothing to prove that they were. “Mom I know it’s you… I can… I can feel it.”
Arch had no desire to leave the light behind. They followed it as it went on, and they paused by its side when it stopped. There was no way for them to hold the light, to touch it, or to do much else than just watch. The light lowered and remained lower for several moments. When it rose to its normal height, it left a familiar gold crucifix in its wake.
“MOM!”
Arch awoke with a jolt, the sound of their own shouting still filling their ears as they rose up from the pillow, nearly jumping off the side of the mattress onto the hard stone floor of Paimon’s home.
The lights of their room turned on, filling the space with an eerie orange glow. Then, there was a knock at the door.
With their heart still pounding and their sweat collecting at the back of their neck, they waited for the second set of knocks before they welcomed in exactly who they had expected would be knocking at that time.
Paimon opened the door, respectfully. His hooves clattered against the floor as he allowed himself in, and he sat on the edge of the bed in silence.
“Nightmare?” He began. He did not make eye contact with the human- they were not so willing to either.
“I don’t get nightmares,” Arch retorted. “Don’t be stupid.”
“It’s not stupid to become the victim of one’s own mind, it simply happens,” Paimon said, a hand smoothed out his long beard and rested at the end of it, twirling its point. “Every one of us has had to battle with our conscience, our guilt, and our fears at one time or another. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Arch settled themselves against the headboard, their arms choked out a long cream coloured pillow as they lowered their chin into it, hiding the redness that began to show itself below their eyes.
“Why did you let me remember her?” they asked him, muffled by the pillow.
“Would you have preferred I didn’t?” Paimon inquired, mildly surprised.
“Of course,” they replied. Tears came welling up, but they blinked them away as soon as the temptation to cry had struck them. “She would be so ashamed of me. Of what I’ve done… I’m… evil… I’m a… monster…”
“But my sweet, sweet, thing!” Paimon pressed a hand into their shoulder, eagerly but tenderly. “Don’t you see? Your shame about who you are and what you are- that is not your burden to carry! Your shame began with your family, and it will end with them. You feel their guilt and their fear, and the weight of their conscience. Don’t allow them to bring you down.”
“Then get rid of it for me! Erase them! Erase everything!” Arch pleaded.
Paimon shook his head, and removed his hand from their shoulder.
“That would be too easy. The moment that you can leave behind those you care for of your own volition, is the same moment you will know that you have become more powerful than any other being on Earth. I will not rob you of that victory.” Paimon stood up, and head towards the door. “Not in your wildest dreams.”
“Wait,” Arch felt awkward even thinking this, but it was what they needed. They had a big day tomorrow, and they needed some good rest. “Could you… Could you put me to sleep? No dreams, no nothing?”
Paimon returned to the bedside motioning for them to readjust their sleeping position. Taking the pillow from their arms, he fluffed it once and propped it beneath their head. Arch pulled a blanket up around their shoulders and sunk into the welcoming pillow and soft mattress below, feeling much more comfortable than mere moments before he had come into their room.
“Thank you, Paimon," they sighed.
Paimon nodded, and lifted a hand over their forehead. He lightly touched above their browbone.
“Cwsg sydyn.”
Paimon lowered the lights as he made his way toward the door. He gripped the doorknob and turned back as the sound of Arch’s deep breathing of slumber was already audible.
“Goodnight, sweet thing,” he uttered just before closing the door behind him.
When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….
“And, send.” Lyrem muttered to himself, then sighed. He laid his elbow against the countertop, staring mindlessly at his phone and drank the last sip of his coffee before throwing it into the trash bin beside him. The shapeshifter was in the alley, waiting for their cue. All Lyrem needed now, was Arch. A slight flittering sound alerted him to a new text.
Omw.
Perfect. Everything was in motion. Everything was going to work out. Arch needed a little more push. Just a slight nudge to keep them interested in working for him. The farther they went, the harder it would be to return to innocence. He couldn’t allow them the chance to turn away. He needed to awaken their memories naturally. He needed them to be lost in their fury. He needed them to take that extra step- he needed them to kill. And who better to help them to do that than-
The front door flew open in a rage. Lyrem was faced with a version of himself blazoning with passionate anger. His eyes were red, his face was pink. He looked as though…
“What happened to you?” He asked himself. The other Lyrem wiped a stray unstoppable tear from his face.
“Oh, you’ll fucking find out!” He shouted. He travelled through the store and directly entered the employee washroom. He remained in there for several minutes before emerging with his face rinsed but still tender. He announced to his other self, still in a fit. “I’m taking the SUV.”
The present Lyrem raised a brow, then returned to staring at his texts. It wasn’t often that he dared cross himself within a time-stream.
“Just don’t crash the damn thing.” He hollered, but his future self was already gone through the back.
-----
The Labyrinth.
Arch had only ever heard of it.
What they knew was simply that it was a place of emptiness. It was a place where nothing existed. A place where suffering, joy, life and death ceased to be. It was also a place that stole you from the world. A step into the depths of the Labyrinth and you’d be forgotten to all. Forgotten to the whole world- except for the very one who had tossed you in. Even on Earth, the Labyrinth would ensure you’d never exist there either- not even in a memory. It wasn’t like simple Latin blood magic. This was a loss to endure forever.
Now, they saw it, and it was much less impressive than they expected. Lyrem had propped open the back door as Arch held onto the man’s body- or the person they were to assume was the man. But… Arch knew better than to believe everything they heard. They were reminded of the policeman, Grenn, and what he had said a week ago-
“How does a guy walk away from a car crash with a Bowie stuck in his leg?”
At the time, it wasn’t as important to know how the man got away, as much as it was important to find him. Lyrem seemed sure that they had found him, but Arch wasn’t so sure- especially not after they leaned into his right leg. There wasn’t anything remotely close to a reaction from him. The knife was buried at lease two inches into his leg, of that, Arch was certain; and no one could heal from that in a week. The Labyrinth wouldn’t be pleasant, certainly, but at least they weren’t about to kill an innocent man.
“Well?” Lyrem touted, “What are you waiting for?”
Arch looked up and down the empty alleyway. Usually, Lyrem’s vehicle would be blocking the view of the street from the alley’s entrance, but it wasn’t around tonight. Maybe it was at a mechanics’; maybe Arch would get lucky.
“Nothing,” they said, dismally. They propped the man up, who was now completely unconscious from a second well-placed blow to the head, and kicked him forward into the darkness.
Lyrem closed the door after the shapeshifter.
“I am proud of you, Arch,” he said, but this time, it sounded skeptical. Like he was testing them. He could see the change in their demeanour and he measured what this new version of Arch might mean for him.
“That wasn’t the man, was it?” They postulated. Lyrem squirmed under their gaze. He nodded apologetically, and gave a half smile.
“Too clever for your own good,” he praised warmly. Approaching, he clasped his hands together. “You caught me. That was not the Man- though you certainly put him in his place, didn’t you? The Labyrinth… I would choose death over the Labyrinth a hundred times over if given a choice. Quite diabolical of you to choose the Labyrinth.”
Arch stepped backward, nearly tripping over their own feet to do so. Lyrem regarded their movement keenly, and furrowed his brows.
“What’s wrong, Arch?”
“Nothing,” they mumbled, looking away, towards the door. “What… was he? Why did he look like the man?”
“Oh,” Lyrem realized. “He is a shapeshifter. Hard beings to find, I will admit but for this particular job, he did just perfect. Well worth the expense I think.”
Arch squinted their eyes at Lyrem, who was so comfortable with the idea of tossing people away.
“So, he was like you?” Arch alleged tentatively. “A… a monster?”
Lyrem stepped forward at the accusation, towering himself over the kid that he regarded so highly. A sharp betrayal stung him in the chest. He had almost forgotten that his future self had visited him to retrieve the SUV. He may finally know exactly what set him off into such a fury.
“Say that again.”
Arch stammered and stumbled over their words, their hands finding their way to their pocket where their phone was missing, but the mace, thankfully, remained. Lyrem stopped them with a finger to their lips, resulting in an upsetting silence from Arch.
“I am not a monster,” he stated. “What I am is a bestower of great gifts. I gave you dominance and power over those who have oppressed you and you would lower me to the tier of a shapeshifter- a monster?”
Arch was shaking now, unable to move any further away, and too fearful to object to his statements.
“You promised me your life, your devotion to this work that I do. Arch, if I am truly a monster in your eyes, then you need not fear me any more than the one that stares back at you from a mirror.”
Lyrem lowered his fingers, and took a deep breath.
“I will forgive you, Arch. I will forgive you because I care about you, and because you did something very difficult for me today.” Lyrem raised his arm again, setting a hand on their shoulder. “And I suspect you are still trying to remember everything that you and I have done together. So… I apologize if this experience was… rattling.”
“My…” Arch mumbled, still stricken with a sense of danger that was overwhelming them, reason and all. “My mom… she warned me…”
The memories were fading… They were fading quickly. But their mom… their mom?... told them… somebody told them not to trust this man. The man with the gem shop. The man who forced them to work late. The man who taught them what power truly was.
This was the man they feared. And they feared him more than anything else in the world.
The lid of the mace hit the alleyway’s pavement, rolling into a gutter of the road. The hiss of the spray and the following spewed insults, were enough of a distraction for Arch to run into the street after they had thrown the emptied canister into the old man’s face. The only thing screaming in their mind was the knowledge that they had to return home and not Lyrem’s well chosen words that echoed down to them as he followed them at a slower pace to the sidewalk.
“YOU UNGRATEFUL WRETCH!”
Arch flew down the many streets, pushing past the evening street-walkers if needed. Their legs fought them the whole way; still recovering from the bruises from the crash and their back still feeling the panging effects from the whiplash that caused a near-constant aching. For now, they couldn’t care less. They needed to get home. They needed to be safe. They needed…
For whatever reason, a visual of Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore popped into their head. There was something about it that was wrong. There was something missing. Someone missing. Who was telling them about that ridiculous movie, again?
Who would be waiting for them at the house? They thought.
Maleficent. That stupid cat.
People lived with other people though, didn’t they? Families. They realized. That was what it was called. They had one of those. Human families. Siblings and grandparents and fathers and…
They reached the end of their block, their own face worn from the fears of that night and exhausted from everything that had been revealed to them. They weren’t a monster… They couldn’t be.
They were Arch. They were a stupid high school student who had a part-time job. They had friends... they had little hobbies… they failed Spanish class.
They also tortured Kyle. They flayed his skin so that Lyrem could dry them and use them as paper for certain macabre spell work.
The more they ran with the knowledge of what they had done and who they had hurt, the harder it was to continue… the easier it was to give up. Their knees buckled, hitting the sidewalk pavement with force. Out of breath, and feeling nauseous, Arch’s forehead met the hot ground next; their arms and hands curled around their head as they threatened to pull their own hair out as a means of distraction from their horrible reality.
“There you are…”
Arch gulped, and merely wept, soaking the sidewalk in a small spot where their face was supported only by their forearms. They felt a firm grasp pulling them up by the elbow, and they succumbed to its demands. Their knees were torn into by stray pebbles, tossed on from the boulevards- some were still small enough to remain stuck beneath their there, leaving specks of red across their skin.
“Wh-where…” Arch started to say- though they didn’t entirely know what they were trying to ask as a fog of grief and anger and fear poured over them. “Where’s… my…”
It was exhausting, trying to remember exactly what was so wrong- why they couldn’t stand to be around Lyrem right now- and despite their best efforts to pull away, he dutifully remained by their side as they walked the rest of the street together. Slowly they arrived at the front door of the house.
Maleficent sat there at the top of the porch, waiting; her blue eyes peering judgmentally at the kid as they found their way up the stairs. A long grey tail swept from side to side lazily, then she proceeded to lick herself.
Lyrem closed them into the house; the scent of burning paper filling it. He had lit a small fire in the living room and stacked several small Rubbermaid containers beside it- one of which, sitting on the raised slate hearth was half empty.
The futon was roughly shoved back into the form of a couch. Bags of clothing in multiple colours remained by the door, as well as a stack of math and chemistry texts with haphazardly strewn loose-leaf papers.
He sat Arch down on the futon as he laid a hand on their back. Gently, he caressed them and pulled a warm fleece throw over their lap. Arch curled into it, and watched the fire burn, engulfing the last memories of the people they thought of as family. Lyrem return to stoking it. He picked through some photos and papers from the open bin, allowing Arch to watch as he tossed them to the flames.
Arch found themselves drifting into a deep dreamless sleep. With a pillow under their head and the room growing too warm, Lyrem studied them fondly as he continued to shove their past into the flames. Over an hour later, he closed the lid on the one of the last bins. He would return to burning those papers and photos another time. He pushed the little metal bar to close the flue on the fire, and shut the door on it as it groaned like a horn.
“You rang…?”
Lyrem turned around, seeing Paimon, he scoffed. Then held a finger to his lips to keep the demon quiet until he shooed him into the kitchen. Lyrem started the kettle on the stove. Paimon looked from the couch and then back to Lyrem warily, and then opened his mouth.
“Don’t say it,” Lyrem interjected. Paimon looked slightly offended.
“I was going to say that our lawyer has their papers ready,” Paimon replied with an innocent conjecture. Removing his tall hat, he placed it on the small worn wooden table. Lyrem nodded, and he continued. “But also, that you are getting too close.”
Lyrem pulled himself away from the cupboard; a tin of hot chocolate powder in his hand, he considered using it as a bludgeoning instrument- but even if he had something more weaponized, Paimon wouldn’t have felt a thing. He was a demon, after all.
“All Arch has to do is sign and your debts will become their debts. You won’t ever have to worry about what you owe- well until you make another ridiculous deal, that is.”
“Keeping Maria alive was not a ridiculous deal,” Lyrem said. He pulled three mugs out of the cupboard, filling them with spoonfuls of the powder. Now they only needed to wait for the water to boil.
“My apologies,” Paimon instilled a silence into the room. Absently he sifted through the mail with Charlotte’s name sprawled over it. Insurance payment reminders, some neighbourhood notices, and list of seemingly random addresses she had penned out over the phone one day, they all sat in a heap. “Their mother, then?”
Lyrem accepted the shame with dignity and crossed his arms as he leaned into the fridge.
“It had to be done. Arch is too easily influenced by them,” He spoke simply. “Thank you again for providing me with another doorway. It took a lot of energy… I may need to devour a heart or two before I replenish my strength.”
“Have you considered that you might be getting in a little over your head?”
Lyrem shook it. “No. I- I am not in over my head, Paimon. My head is still well above the waterline, thank you very much.”
Paimon smoothed his beard to the end and regarded the man skeptically.
“So, you will still allow Arch to sign?”
Lyrem blinked, his lashes fluttering bit as he thought of his answer. Then he scowled.
“They already said they would sign. I am sure that if Arch cares about me, and cares about the work ahead of them, that they will make the right decision for themselves.”
“And if they make the wrong decision?” Paimon postulated.
Lyrem fell silent just in time for the kettle to scream out with a high whistle. He shut off the stove, and picked it up. Filling the three mugs and giving them a stir, he passed one to Paimon, then moved to the living room.
With a light nudge, Arch awoke to the smell of the warm chocolate sugar and accepted the cup as they sat up. Wrapping their blanket around their shoulders, Lyrem asked.
“Are you feeling better, now?”
Arch nodded, brushing away some dried tears. Past Lyrem’s head of grey, the light was on in the kitchen with the demon in black sitting there still. He caught their gaze and held it carefully. Arch waved.
Paimon nodded back with a slight sideways grin.
“What’s Paimon doing here?” they asked, whispering to Lyrem.
Good. They remembered Paimon.
“He’s just here to catch up, that’s all.” Lyrem left them to their own devices on the couch and returned to the kitchen table as he retrieved his own comforting mug and held onto it with both hands as if the simple act could warm his rapidly cooling heart.
‘Let them enjoy their prom- their graduation. One last night out with their friends.” Lyrem was asking- no, pleading more than telling.
“Immediately after. I don’t want you to be running around any longer with this target on your back. It makes me… uneasy.” Paimon adjusted in his seat. “You and I still have much to do.”
“Yes. Yes, I know.” Lyrem sipped on his hot chocolate as his hazel eyes glazed over from thoughts that were perhaps too deep for his own good.
