FIC: Go to Sleep Now, Little Fool

[nilchance]

Title: Go to Sleep Now, Little Fool
Author: nilchance
Pairing: Gen
Rating: R
Summary: EMH post-finale fic. Follows 'You'll Not Feel the Drowning'. Alex tries to make a deal.
Warnings: Character deaths (off-screen), horror
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the series in any way. It belongs, presumably, to Vince, Jeff and Evan.



Bitter wind howls across the crossroads. Alex pulls the hoodie tighter around himself, wishing like hell he'd brought a thicker coat along.

Maybe it can part of the deal.

He should've taken the car. No, he should've stuffed Evan in the trunk and then taken the car. No, Evan might've Macguyvered out and tackled Alex while he was still fighting with the shovel. He should've--

"No," the demon speaks from behind him. It has an indolent accent, syrupy and yawning, deep South; Steph would know. "I'm afraid not. Company policy."

Which means try harder. Alex turns around, hands a little raised to show that they're empty. His fingers are too cramped from cold to use a weapon well, and they're not fighting. "I'll cut my time down to five years."

"Your damaged little soul isn't worth it."

It seems funny that the devil would have a policy about child labor laws, but Alex says, "I'm eighteen."

"Seventeen. I don't need to card you, kiddo." The demon pops his gum and shows bright teeth. "That's not my problem. No, we just don't take your kind."

Hunters? No, given the death rate, hunters could probably get group rates on soul pawning. No, this is something else, something Alex didn't see in the book he swiped from Bobby's shelf. He doesn't like fighting blind. He started hunting so he wouldn't have to.

And the demon starts to leave. Alex can feel the air pressure change and smell the brimstone. It's not a bluff. He blurts, "You can take me with you now. Just give me my brother back."

The demon stills, maybe caught by Alex's offer or by the scent of blood in the water, and huffs a laugh. It's sexy to some part of Alex that doesn't understand attractive danger versus suicide. But then, he likes Evan. Then the demon throws back his head and laughs.

"You're so predictable. It's always 'save my brother, take me instead', whine whine whine. You're so easy. It's like stomping on a kitten. Besides." Eyes ticking over Alex's shoulder, the demon smirks. "You belong to somebody else."

Alex follows his gaze, expecting to see the Man. Instead he sees headlights. His stomach drops, and keeps dropping when he sees Evan's expression through the windshield. Evan brakes in time, but not before Alex skitters back to avoid being run over, and the car is still moving a little when Evan flings himself out of the car.

It's not all Evan.

Alex keeps backing up, hampered by trying to keep them both from crashing into the crossroads demon, but Evan's faster. He gets Alex by the throat, his other hand fisting in the hoodie, and he squeezes.

"No," Evan rasps, and shakes Alex hard.

Fighting will only trigger Habit's prey drive and make everything worse. Alex doesn't try to grab Evan's wrist and pull him off, through it's tempting because the night is blotching out. He goes limp, instead, his knees buckling. Evan is deep enough, or furious enough, that he lets Alex hit the ground instead of trying to slow him.

Evan's hand drops away, fist clenching and unclenching. He looks towards where the demon was, like he wants something to tear apart, and then back at Alex with his teeth bared.

"No," Evan rasps. "Never. Not you."

And Alex puts it together: the demon saw that Habit got to Alex first.

Spitting into the weeds, Alex wipes his mouth. His croak sounds as rough as Evan's, weaving in and out of audible. "Don' have syringe. Pull t'gether."

Evan steps toward him, fist raised, and for a second Alex thinks he's going to get a black eye for his trouble. Evan's never hit him on purpose, even when he was thirteen and taunting Evan until even Jeff had smacked him one. But Evan just grabs him by his scruffy hair and yanks Alex's head back on his neck, forcing him to look up at Evan, forcing him to bare his throat.

"Don't you ever do that shit again," Evan says, low and furious. "Not you, too. I can't deal if you-- I don't know what the fuck I'd do. So don't."

Alex lips his suddenly parched mouth. You'd just crash Hell and kick all their asses, he thinks, but he can't say that much with his fucked throat. It might not actually be a joke.

Maybe Habit isn't the one he belongs to.

"Alex," Evan says, so agonized that Alex's heart drops the last few sick inches to the ground.

"Yeah," Alex makes himself say. "Yeah. Okay."

Evan takes a few second to let him go.