"It shouldn't take us long to reach the church, but you can bet those creeps outside will be on our tail." Brian peered out of the kitchen window. "Ray's leaving Craig some instructions on how to break the barrier spell, but only if he's sure they're all gone."
"You need to tie me up," Gerard came back from the living room carrying the rope Bob had used to tie him before. "In case I go crazy and try to get out of the van or something."
Bob nodded. "Okay."
"You should probably gag me, too," Gerard added.
Bob looked less thrilled about that, but he said, "I'll find something we can use."
Frank wrapped another piece of tape around the broken arm of Mikey's glasses and wiggled them a little, testing. "I think that should hold," he said, and handed them over.
Mikey put them on. The arms were wonky and the taped part resting on his nose made him look like a kid in a cartoon, but he nodded. "Thanks."
"Frank's going to drive," Brian went on, "And - " he stopped, giving Frank and Mikey a worried look.
"What?" said Mikey.
"It's just - it's just this is a lot of pressure on you two," Brian said carefully. "With the rest of us all busted up like this. I wouldn't have planned it this way."
Mikey raised one eyebrow. "You would have planned this at all?"
Brian sighed. "Okay, maybe not."
"It is the way it is, Brian, there's nothing we can do about it now." Frank stood up as Ray came back into the room. "Are we ready?"
Ray nodded. "As we'll ever be, I guess."
Mikey hunched his shoulders. "We have to go," he said. He picked up Ray's kit bag. "The Cardinal's waiting."
In the van, Frank forced himself to keep his eyes away from the rearview, where Bob was asking Gerard to kneel, so Bob could tie his hands behind his back, and then his wrists to his ankles. Frank knew it was for the best, that it would stop Gerard from hurting himself, if nothing else, but that didn't mean Frank wasn't two seconds away from scratching Bob's eyes out. He started the van up and looked around for the button Craig had used to open the garage door.
"Wait," said Mikey. "The spell. How is Gerard going to get out of the house? Doesn't he need a symbol painted on?"
"I burned it into his flesh last night, Mikey," Frank said, getting the van rolling. "If that's not good enough then I don't know what the fuck is."
Frank didn't bother with the path Craig had taken before, instead deciding just to drive in a straight line towards the gates. In the rearview he could see Bob tying a piece of cloth in a knot at the back of Gerard's head, holding himself awkwardly so as not to put pressure on his wounded leg. He could see Brian, pale and sweating and trying to brace himself against the side of the van so the movement of the wheels didn't cause him too much pain, and he could see Ray staring down at his useless hands, frustration and hopeless rage written in the line of his shoulders and the set of his jaw. Mikey was in the passenger seat, looking like he had a date with the end of the world, and Frank just was not in the fucking mood to be polite to the assholes who had hurt them all so badly. He could see them now, milling around outside the gates.
"They might not move," Mikey said. He looked at Frank out the corner of his eye. Frank heard the you might hit them as clear as if Mikey had spoken it aloud, and it didn't sound like a warning, either.
"Good," he said, and put his fucking foot down.
The gates weren't closed this time so there wasn't the same impact; the human survival instinct was apparently still alive inside the Hoods because most of them got out of the way; the ones who didn't, though, tried to grab on and one of them clung to Mikey's door for almost half a block before Mikey managed to swing it open and send the guy flying to the sidewalk.
"They're following us!" he yelled when he pulled his head back into the van. "Frank, keep going!"
"Not planning on stopping, dude!" Frank wrenched the wheel to the left when Brian told him to, mentally apologizing to all the people in the other lane he almost killed. "Did we lose them yet? How fast are they fucking running, anyway?"
Mikey leaned out of the window again. "I can't see them anymore," he reported. "But I can still feel them. They're going to know where we are."
"Then let's hope the Cardinal works fast," said Frank, then shouted, "Everybody hold on!" as he ran a red light and turned sharply to the right.
"Jesus, Frank!" Ray slammed into the back of Frank's seat. "You're going to kill us all before we even get there!"
There was a noise, then, a horrible, garbled, howling noise, and Frank didn't even have to look to know it was Gerard.
"Scratch that!" said Ray. "Keep your fucking foot down, all right?"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Frank chanted, swerving out sharply to overtake the car in front. "Brian, how close are we?"
"Should be the next left," Brian wheezed - Frank didn't want to know why he was wheezing all of a sudden, but he could guess it had to do with the muffled thumps and shouts he could hear. "Next left, Frankie, hurry!"
Frank took the corner as fast as he could without toppling the van over on its side, and the church came into view, tall and imposing and oh, fuck, Frank had never been so glad to see the Suits in his life, running out of the church doors to meet them as Frank brought the van screeching to a halt.
"Inside, inside!" Howard shouted as Mikey and Frank jumped out of the van. "Where is he, in the back?"
Frank nodded. "Our friends are hurt!" he said, struggling when the little Suit with the ponytail tried to pull him away from the van. "You have to be careful!"
"They'll be worse than hurt if we don't get you all inside, believe me," said one of the other Suits as they pulled the doors to the van open. Bob and Ray climbed out first, then together with the Suits they pulled out Gerard, who was thrashing around and snarling and his face was - Frank pulled Mikey to him quickly, turning him away.
"Don't look," he said, holding Mikey firm when he struggled. "Don't look, Mikeyway."
"Get him to the Cardinal!" Howard ordered the other Suits, and finally Brian came out of the van, climbing out painfully and leaning heavily against the side, panting. Howard said, "Is anybody dying right this second?"
Brian shook his head, clutching his side and leaning over to spit blood out onto the ground. "Not for at least an hour."
"Come on," Howard ran back towards the church and they followed him, stumbling inside so Howard could close the tall, heavy doors, shutting the light out, shutting them in. Frank immediately turned to see the Suits up at the other end of the Church, holding Gerard down on a large, heavy table, struggling to force Gerard's limbs straight.
"What are they doing?" Mikey cried, trying to pull out of Frank's grip. "Tying him down won't work, we tried that and he got free of the ropes."
Howard said, "He won't get free of these," and ran to join the others.
The Cardinal was standing at the end of the table, a large crucifix in his hand which he was holding high in the air over Gerard's head. "Save your servant," he said in a clear, confident voice. "Who trusts in you, my God. Let him find in you, Lord, a fortified tower, in the face of the enemy. Let the enemy have no power over him, and the son of iniquity be powerless to harm him. Lord, send him aid from your holy place, and watch over him from Sion. Lord, heed my prayer, and let my cry be heard by you."
The Suits joined in the second part of every phrase, so that when the Cardinal said, "The Lord be with you," they replied, "And also with you."
Gerard bucked and hissed and writhed when the Cardinal touched him with the crucifix, when he sprinkled Holy Water on him, when he laid his hand on the top of Gerard's head and prayed. Of all the things Frank had seen since this whole thing started, this was the worst, because there wasn't anything he could do about it. He had to stand there and watch and wait and try to trust some asshole he didn't even know to save Gerard, and the people who really loved him couldn't do anything but stand there and watch.
"I command you, unclean spirit!" the Cardinal called, and then there was hammering on the doors; Ray ran to them and crouched to put his eye to the crack.
"It's the Hoods!" he shouted. "They're here!"
"The doors look pretty solid, I don't think they can get in without some serious work," Bob said, frowning, and then they all jumped when Gerard let out a bloodthirsty scream and the next thing Frank knew, the fucking walls were on fire, huge, roaring columns of flame that reached from the floor to the high, arched ceiling of the church.
"He's trying to drive us outside!" Howard yelled, and the Cardinal nodded, but didn't stop talking, his hand still clamped on Gerard's head as he prayed.
"I command you to obey me," he raised his voice above the noise of the flames, "I who am a minister of God despite my unworthiness; nor shall you be emboldened to harm in any way this creature of God."
Gerard was screaming at him, but Frank couldn't understand him - it didn't seem like it was English, anyway. Gerard had stopped moving, now - his hands hung limply off the sides of the table, and the black mark on his throat had spread down both arms, clawing away at his flesh like it was laying its own arms over Gerard's. The Cardinal roared and bellowed; he sprinkled Holy Water; Gerard's skin split and smoked and he spat curses back into the Cardinal's face, but he wasn't moving, he had stopped moving, he wasn't moving at all.
"He's not going to make it," Mikey said suddenly, his hand clamped tight around Frank's wrist.
"How do you know?" snapped one of the Suits.
"He knows," said Ray. Bob and Brian both nodded.
"If he doesn't make it," Howard said grimly, "then we are staring into the face of Armageddon. This demon cannot be set free."
Mikey turned to look at Frank. "He's not going to make it," he said again, hollow and oddly calm.
Frank held his eyes. He turned his wrist in Mikey's grip and squeezed his hand. He waited.
Mikey nodded. Frank said, "Okay."
They ran towards Gerard together; dodging the grasping hands of their friends and the Suits. Mikey grabbed the startled Cardinal by the robes and threw him to the ground; Frank climbed up onto the table and unwound the rosary from his wrist. He slammed the crucifix as hard as he could against Gerard's forehead, steeling himself against the noise Gerard made. The Suits were right - the bonds held, and as hard as Gerard thrashed he couldn't throw Frank off.
There were hands on his shoulders, on his waist, on his arms; Frank was beyond their strength, though, he knew that now, he knew that this was what he had to do. Gerard's skin was disintegrating under his hands, around the rosary, in all the places where anything Holy touched him, but he wouldn't give it up, he fought and fought and Frank heard Mikey shout and looked up just in time to see him catching something Ray had thrown to him, a bottle. Holy water, he realized, and looked down at Gerard with a grin. "Oh man, you're gonna hate this."
Make it as uncomfortable for the demon as you possible can, that's what Gerard had said, and Frank forced his mouth open at the same time Mikey wrenched the cap off the bottle, and emptied it over Gerard's face. Frank jammed the crucifix into his open mouth and held it there, choking him with it, riding out the convulsions and staring directly into Gerard's eyes.
"Come on, come on," Frank growled. "There's nothing in there for you, asshole, come on."
He could feel it the instant it started to work. It might have been a year ago but Frank would never forget the way it felt, and the first sharp, sick split of the skin on his forehead was as familiar to him as his own name. "Yeah, yeah, that's it," he coaxed, as he felt the blood sliding down his face, his shoulders - he looked down at his hands, clamped together over Gerard's mouth, and as he watched the wounds on his wrists opened like flowers, and it hurt, it fucking hurt, it hurt so bad Frank could barely think, but he kept his eyes on Gerard's and through gritted teeth he forced out, "You sick son of a bitch, you think I'm afraid of you? You think you can do anything to me that hasn't already been done? You aren't shit to me."
"Get out!" Mikey was shouting, slamming his fists into the table next to Gerard's shoulders. "Get out of him, get out."
Gerard arched painfully, once; he made a choking noise, and opened his eyes, and he was Gerard, Frank could tell it just by looking at him. He yanked the rosary out of Gerard's mouth straight away, and then it was burning his hand, it was like molten fucking lead in his palm and he dropped it with a cry.
He heard Howard yell, "It's transferred, tie him down, tie him down," and then he wasn't hearing anything anymore - or he was, but he was hearing them through someone else's ears, or with two sets of ears, or something. He was sort of used to that, from the channeling, but he wasn't used to the way this felt, how huge it was, huge and old and so, so angry, this endless tirade of screaming rage running through his veins, and he wasn't used to being scared of his friends.
You're scared of them, he realized, and then convulsed with pain as he felt the noisy, chaotic rush of a presence in his mind, something alien that didn't belong. When he'd done similar things before the struggle had always been to relax and let it happen - usually the spirits or whatever were scared and lonely and confused, and he would grit his teeth, trying to let them creep around inside his mind, trying to fight his instincts, which were to slam his own consciousness up against them and get them the fuck out.
This time, he had to do no such thing. I'll show you uncomfortable, he thought, and pushed back at the presence inside him with everything he had. The Cardinal was standing over him now, and Frank couldn't hear what he was saying but it fucking hurt, whatever it was, and he twisted and snarled, fighting to keep that alien something at the front of his mind, between him and the Cardinal, not letting it retreat or find shelter for one fucking second. He felt like his head was going to explode; his skin was splitting open further, he could feel his flesh ripping itself apart and he felt that his bones would be next, that his skull would crack like an egg, that his spine and his wrists would shatter inside his body.
It was like being shredded by a thousand knives, like being eaten from the inside out. Everything outside hurt, Holy Water seeping into his blood and making it sear his skin like acid, words laying into him like bullets. Inside, something huge and terrifying was clawing at Frank's mind, shrieking and frantic in its attempts to get away; and Frank could feel himself starting to weaken, feel his defenses start to give. It was just so big, it was so much stronger than he was and he didn't know how much longer he could hold out.
Frank was trying, he was, but he felt like he was trying to hold up the world while the world was at war. He didn't know how Gerard had carried this thing inside him for so long, it was poison, it was cancer, it was beyond anything that Frank could comprehend. He could hear the Cardinal saying God's name, he could hear himself snarling in response. Images flashed rapidly in front of his eyes; the guys, his Mom, his own face, bleeding and turned up to the Heavens. Mary, Mother of God, sad and so far away, and he thought, please. Help me, please.
Then, in the middle of the chaos and the pain and the din, somewhere right on the edge of his mind, Frank felt a hand in his own, and he heard somebody speaking, somebody urging him to hold on.
Mikey.
Just a little longer, he said, or - he wasn't saying it, because Frank couldn't hear him, he couldn't hear anything besides the sound of his own crazed, screaming rants, but it got through just the same.
I know you can hear me. Just hold on.
Frank latched onto Mikey's voice and used it to throw himself forward again, inside his mind. Xaphan's fury threw him back like a wave, and Frank just kept throwing himself against it, again and again and again until everything was broken and he couldn't pick himself up anymore. He cried out, and the blood filled his mouth, and his eyes, and his ears, and he didn't have anything inside him but darkness and anger and pain, there was no fight in him, he had nothing to fight with.
He heard his friends calling his name, he felt the Cardinal's prayers slicing into him, and just before he fell into the blackness, he felt the undercurrent of the wave; and it wasn't anger, not really, not when you got down deep enough. It was hopelessness, aching and raw and unchanging and endless. That, Frank knew, wasn't coming from his own mind.
Then the wave closed over his head, and he knew nothing more.