I'm in the basement with Maggie. I couldn't tell her what's going on over the phone. I thought it would be easier in person, but it's not. I think part of me was hoping that if I got Maggie down here, we could just hang out like we used to. We could pretend that none of this happened and that everything was normal. We can't.
Maggie tells me about Josh, the boy who got shot trying to protect her. She's been visiting him in the hospital and he's doing much better. His leg is probably permanently damaged, but he'll be able to live a full and healthy life, minus the football scholarship he was hoping for.
Every time I go to tell Maggie about Petrus and what happened, I can hear my Mum shifting in the corner, just within ear shot. She keeps coming down and asking if we're okay. And not just, are you alright, or do you need a bag of chips? But the way she says it, it's like she wants to have a big emotional conversation like, "Are you okay?" My pending mental breakdown aside, it's getting quite frustrating.
"I'm alright," Maggie says, as if she hasn't been asked that question enough by her own parents.
“If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here,” my Mum says to her. “You’re pretty much family.” I know my Mum wants to comfort someone and I feel bad that I've been pushing her away, but I just don't think she can understand what I'm going through.
Eventually, Maggie gestures towards the closet under the stairs. It's a small little triagle shaped storage cubby. We used to hide in it when we were younger. Now crawling into it, we can barely fit.
"I remember this being a lot bigger," Maggie says. "What did we used to call it, Fort Alexandra?"
"Fort Maria, from West Side Story."
Maggie laughs, "And you thought there was ever a time I didn't know you were gay? I know you Aaron, and I can tell that something is going on that you're not telling me."
I take Maggie’s hand. It's too dark to make out much in her, but I look towards her anyways. "It's not over yet," I say and I tell her everything that happened with Petrus. "But don't worry, I won't help Petrus find the Demons. I'm giving up the light and staying out of all of this."
When she doesn't say anything, I just keep talking. I think she's afraid and I want to reassure her. "You were right, I shouldn't have gotten involved with the light and with the Sword and all of that stuff. From now on, I'm just going to forget about it and try to be normal, okay?"
I can't see her face, so I don't know how she's handling everything. I want her to say something, or give me a sign. "Maggie?"
And then it comes, her signal, a swift angry slap across my face. "You do not get to walk away,” she says. I didn't think she'd be this hostile. “You don’t get to be normal anymore. I warned you to be careful with the light. We didn’t have to look for the Sword of God. We could have just walked away, but we didn’t. We had to find out. We had to fulfill you destiny because an Angel said that you were important. And, honestly, in a way, I think that it made me feel important too. It was a chance to become more than we were. Different. Better. Now people are hurt, some are dead, because of what we did. We don’t get to ruin people’s lives and then just give up. We started something and people died. Now you have an obligation. You have powers. You can do good things, and try to make up for all of the pain we caused. Others paid the price for your strength, now you have to use it for something important. Otherwise, what happened was meaningless.”
“You don’t understand. It scares me. I’m afraid I’ll lose myself in the light.”
“You should’ve been afraid before. Now you just have to be stronger. And I know you can be stronger. I’ll be with you. But you can’t let this Petrus get away with whatever he’s planning.”
“He’s hunting demons. What am I supposed to do?”
“Just demons?” Maggie says in dry sarcastic voice. She’s chiding me. “Day’s a demon right?”
“Yeah.”
“And what about that guy who saved you from Legion and his friends? They all risked their lives to save us.”
“But what can I do?”
“Stand with them,” she says. “You have power. You have the light. Be strong. Be better. Stand up and fight. We both have blood on our hands. Not intentionally, but it’s still there. Make everything we’ve been through mean something.”
It is kind of cliché, but she’s right.
“Okay,” I say.
“Don’t just say okay, call Day. I’m sure the demons are planning something to protect themselves. Tell Day, you want to help them.”
I take out my phone and I dial Day’s number.