It’s raining when Eli gets to the crossroads. He can barely see anything both because of the new moon and the clouds filling the sky to bursting. The haphazardly thrown together bag of various magical supplies at his side seems heavier than it should. He takes a deep breath, pushes his sodden bangs out of his eyes, and drops the bag next to his feet before starting to dig. When he finally has a hole deep enough, he takes a few items from his bag and lays them out before him; a black cat’s skull, a small bottle of freshly dug graveyard dirt, a knife, and a wooden box with carvings in it. It’s taken him more than a month to gather everything, and he’s praying he does this correctly.

He places the skull in the box and pours the dirt over it before pressing his knife into his palm and drawing it back slowly, watching as his own blood drips into the box and soaks into the dirt. He closes the box and quickly places it into the newly dug hole before him.

“You know,” Says an alluring voice behind him. “You only need a drop or two of blood. Nothing more than a pinprick.”

Eli stands, turning to face the demon behind him, “You got a name?” He has to shout over the thunder.

“Yeah actually,” The demon, a young man with blond hair and deep red eyes states with a smile. “But my name isn’t important.”

“I need your help,” He moves closer to save his throat from having to keep shouting over the rain and thunder.

The demon smiles and it’s only now that Eli realizes he’s completely dry. “Must be pretty important if you’re willing to renounce your God so easily.” He gestures to the silver cross hanging around Eli’s neck, “The Big Man Upstairs not doin’ it for you?”

“It… it’s my sister.” The demon raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond beyond that. “I need to see her again.”

The demon grins, adjusting his leather gloves. “She must be a damn fine sister if you’re here begging to see her again. You got a thing for her?”

Eli recoils in disgust at the thought and shudders, “Hey fuck you! I have a good reason!”

“Oh yeah?” The demon’s red eyes stare deep into Eli’s. “And what’s that, sweetheart?”

The human opens his mouth to speak but closes it again almost immediately. “I-I want to apologize…” He hangs his head in defeat, his tears falling and disappearing with the rain. “I just… couldn’t protect her…”

                                                                ~*~

 It goes like this for months.

They fight, they fuck, they barely talk. Koby spends most of his time locked in the room Eli gave him. Wash, rinse, repeat.

He’s getting fed up.

“I just don’t know what to do with him, y’know?” Eli mutters as he reloads his gun and lines up a shot, getting a bullseye with the third bullet.

“You could just go in there and take whatcha want,” The man standing next to him comments in his thick Boston accent, setting his weapon aside and exchanging it for a new one. “He’s yours after all.”

Eli scoffs and shakes his head, nose wrinkling in disgust, “Fuck no. That’s where I draw the line.”

The man shrugs, seemingly unbothered. “Just a suggestion.”

Eli goes still for a moment, watching his companion out of the corner of his eye, weighing his options. After some time he speaks, “James?”

“Yeah?” James lowers his gun, turning his attention to his employer.

“Where did we find you?”

The man laughs, large shoulders shaking with the sound. He lifts a scarred and tattooed hand to adjust his safety goggles, “I was looking for a job after I’d gotten out of prison.” He turns to face Eli, “Drug charges.”

“Right…” He takes a breath and sets his gun down. “Right.”

James furrows his eyebrows, “Something the matter?”

Eli shakes his head and turns away, “I gotta run an errand. You’ll hold down the fort for a while?”

The large man nods and faces the target again. Eli leaves to the sound of rapid gunfire.

It’s almost five when Koby finally decides to leave his room. He hasn’t eaten all day, and he’s hoping a little bit of sustenance will make his pounding headache go away. He hesitates when he gets to the bottom of the stairs, seeing the large man sitting on the couch, watching something on his phone. Koby’s seen him before; in fact, he seems to be the makeshift bodyguard around the apartment. He attempts to hide himself in the large shirt he’s wearing as he rushes past to the kitchen.

“Hey,” The man grunts. “Where d’ya think you’re going?” Koby stops dead, unsure if he should answer or not. The couch creaks and groans, and the boy can feel a looming presence behind him. “I asked ya a question, slut.”

“J-just getting some food,” Koby takes another few steps into the kitchen, keeping his eyes down. He makes his way to the fridge and peers inside.

“I don’t get it,” James says, following the boy. “Eli says he hates ya, but I’d bet money he’d jump in front of just about any bullet that’s headed your way.”

Koby doesn’t respond, opting instead to take a bite from the last apple in the fridge. He turns around, fully taking in the broad form of the man in front of him. James towers above him, and judging just from the size of his arms, Koby would guess he could crush him if he wanted to.

The boy takes another bite of his apple and attempts to move past the man. A large hand is planted against his chest, and Koby stops walking.

“I didn’t say you could go, did I?” His voice is pure venom.

“I-I--”

The hand moves upwards, stopping at the base of his throat, Koby can hear his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

“Why dontcha come upstairs,” It’s not a request. “Show me what makes Eli keep you around.”

Koby attempts to pull away, eyes widening as he does so. His breath is already coming in short and he’s worried he may pass out.

“C’mon, cutie,” James purrs. “What makes you worth it?”

The boy shudders, dropping the apple and attempting to force his way out of the hand around his neck. The fingers clamp down, cutting off the rest of his air. He gasps and squirms, feeling his feet leaving the ground. Sparks shoot behind his eyes and the world begins to fade into darkness and silence.

It’s almost midnight by the time Eli gets back to the apartment. Even as exhausted as he is, he can tell something’s off.

“Koby-?” He waits for a response and, hearing nothing, he tries again. “Koby? Where are you?”

Again, nothing. Eli drops his bag on the couch and makes his way to the kitchen, stopping when he sees the barely eaten apple laying on the floor. Something is definitely up. He sets the apple on the counter and starts up the stairs to his bedroom, staying as silent as he can.

A quiet whimper makes him freeze in his tracks and reach for the gun in his waistband. A chill runs down his spine and Eli prays that he’s not about to find what he knows he will. He takes a breath and pushes the door open to Koby’s room.

James is on the bed, crouching over the boy. From where he’s standing, Eli can only see Koby’s bare legs, and the occasional hand pushing at the larger man’s chest. Eli’s blood goes icy.

“James.” He barely even realizes he’s the one speaking. “Stand the fuck up. Now.”

There’s a dark laugh and the man turns around, adjusting his belt, “Sorry, boss. Thought I’d take him for a little ride.”

Eli smiles, golden eyes glinting in the low light, “Did I say you could do that?”

James shrugs and grins, not a care in the world. “I wanted to make sure he was worth all the trouble he was givin’ ya.”

The white-haired man stalks forward, a cat toying with his prey, “Get the fuck up.”

The large man seems to realize there’s no more levity in the situation, and he hauls himself off the bed, keeping his small eyes on Eli’s figure. “Sorry I didn’t ask ya first.”

Forgetting he has a gun, Eli launches himself at the larger man with an animalistic cry, knocking him backward and into the window. The glass shatters on impact, and Koby yelps in fear, scrambling away from the two men. James shoves Eli away, using his newly freed hands to grab a large shard of glass from the floor. He starts on his adversary, swinging his new weapon without abandon, finally catching Eli across the chest and sending blood splattering across the wall to his left. The younger man stumbles back, looking for purchase on the polished wood floor and, finding it, he leaps for James’s throat, digging his fingers into soft flesh.

James yelps, struggling to get the smaller man off of him. His foot slips, and suddenly, he’s aware of the sensation of falling. Cool wind rushes past his ears, but he can’t look away from the bloodthirsty golden eyes staring into his soul. After a few rough punches to the solar plexus, Eli’s cold fingers release his throat, and the younger man is falling almost next to him now. He wonders vaguely, before he hits the ground, if he could’ve prevented this violent death. Probably not.

The sickening sound of bodies hitting the pavement is the only thing to bring Koby from his cowering position against the far side of the bed. He slowly stands, a sharp pain shooting up the inside of his legs and along the base of his spine. He gasps but forces himself to climb over the large bed to look out the window. Even in the darkness, he can make out the inky puddles of blood spilling out from the two men and into the street, and he sinks to the ground next to the shards of glass, tears beginning to fall.

He cares. Why does he care? He has no reason to care… does he? Sure, Eli is significantly more violent than his pimp ever was, but he feels like he’s… missing something now. His fingers tug at his own hair, the small amounts of pain only succeeding in making the tears come faster than before. Koby hates it when he cries, especially when it’s over something as stupid as all this is.

“Koby?”

The boy jumps and snaps his head up, starting to shake again when he sees the blood covered Eli standing in the doorway. He’s void of all wounds, but his clothes are a grim reminder of everything Koby was witness to. Without thinking, Koby reaches his thin arms out, seeking the only bit of comfort he can think of. Eli’s by his side in a moment, pulling him close and stroking his hair, whispering quiet apologies to him.

“God, Koby I’m so sorry. I never wanted this shit to happen,” Eli’s voice is steady but weak. “You didn't deserve that.”

The more Eli speaks and rocks him, the more Koby feels his body relaxing. The night’s events are starting to feel more and more like a bad dream, and other than the very real pain in his back, Koby can almost convince himself that nothing bad happened.

Eli begins to pepper gentle kisses to the boy’s face and head, using a ripped-off chunk of his shirt to wipe away the tears.

“I’m sorry, Koby,” His voice is ragged with emotion. “I’m so, so sorry. I couldn’t protect you.”