Coyote Gospel [Panic]

[Della Miller]

The first thing Della thought when Panic started walking over towards her wasn’t, as she had hoped, relief. It was …oh don’t look at me like that… You’d think she was about to kick him, with the way he looked right now. It was the exact type of body language Rook used to have when he knew he hadn’t been the very best boy he could be…and it was REALLY starting to get hard to not take this at least a little personally and…

…and that band…on his foot…was that always there? She presumed it had to have been on his human form…although it was so RARE that anything he was wearing wound up on his animal form. What the hell kind of band was this to be the exception?

Still, she managed to hide her frustration and querying behind a weak smile…she almost wanted to scratch his ears, but…but how he responded to her initial touch gave her pause. Had they really gone back to square one after everything?

“Hopefully we’ll see you all soon,” she murmured, as she led Panic away from the group.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them the moment they left the group, and it nauseated Della. She kept her gun holstered, and checked her pocket for her switch knife…ah, there it was. With all of the growth this should prove useful, it…it…

…it was getting really hard to distract herself and her smile had fallen almost as soon as it became just the two of them…

Her eyes wandered towards Panic as she pondered what she could even say to him. Like…of course she hadn’t expected some kind of fairytale ending when they got back together. That’d be too easy, and nothing about her life had ever been easy, not even in a fairytale world. But she thought…well, no, that was the thing. She had gone over hundreds of scenarios over the past ten years, and many of them involved something going wrong once Panic was thrust into his own personal Hell…so why was THIS so surprising? He wasn’t even really acting terribly out of character, he had always been jittery and paranoid, why wouldn’t it make sense for him to attempt to keep his distance?

Because you thought you two were past that…and hell, pretty early on, he had gotten over that with you, at least…this is more than just going backwards for you two…

She swallowed back that thought, but it felt like dry swallowing a pill, felt like it threatened to rupture her esophagus…

They headed towards where she thought she remembered the portals were, going past a couple of buildings as they did…and somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered there were some particularly weird noises going on ahead of them…but that wasn’t as much of a priority as usual.

Instead, she finally spoke. “So…we’re alone…can we talk or are you not ready?”

[Panic]

Panic tried to simply focus on putting one foot in front of the other and not on the woman striding beside him. He kept his head low, sniffing for danger ever so often. Della didn't say anything at first, which he was grateful for. He braved a glance behind him and took in the strange group they were leaving one last time. He was glad to be out of a crowd, but somehow felt more alert and stressed than ever. He should have gone with anybody else. Sure, he might hurt them, which he didn't want to do, but it was still better than hurting Della.

Panic thought on that notion for a minute. He never would have thought that before. Sure he loved Della, but Panic wouldn't have ever even considered putting anyone in danger when he was here before. At least, he never would have upon his own accord. A lot had changed in ten years. He'd gotten himself into a lot of trouble trying to do the only thing he knew before Tintagel. servitude. However, it wasn't the same as before, because Della had taught him to be braver. She may have even convinced him that he could be worth something. Even it it was just a whisper, it was enough to make Panic resent the job ever now and again. That never used to happen before. So this time, instead of building up more and more fear, and dark sort of anger had been boiling for years, threatening to show itself at any moment.

Of course Della spoke eventually. Panic had hoped for a brief moment that they could just hurry and find the portal and he could leave. Maybe this wasn't actually the place his master had meant to send him after all. He still had heard nothing from them, thankfully. Panic thought about her offer. He didn't want to talk, but he felt like maybe he was supposed to talk. He was going to be gone soon anyway. This might be the only time they see each other again for the rest of their lives. Just think, if he hadn't made such a mess, he might have been back here with her and they could be together for as long as their hearts desired. Oh, who was he kidding, she couldn't tolerate him forever. Maybe this was for the best.

After a long minute, Panic transformed back into a human without missing a stride. This was his answer. Yes. They could talk. However, he didn't say anything and he certainly did not look at her. He placed his left hand over the cuff on his right wrist instinctively and tried hard to keep himself from hunching over with anxiety.

[Della Miller]

Della kept her gaze away from him in case that would put too much pressure on him. It just felt like the right thing to do, even though all she wanted to do was hold him and hear what he had to say and figure out a way to make it all right again...but that probably wasn't going to be what was best for him. And you couldn't prioritize your own wants over your significant other's needs, unless said needs were violent or something.

That was...if they even were together anymore.

She tried to bat that thought away, because no, shut up. Even if that were true, she couldn't go in with that attitude until she knew exactly how he felt about the whole thing. And honestly, even if he didn't want to be with her anymore, she'd still want to care for him as best she could. That was always how things worked with them...she'd...she'd give, and give, and give...probably deep down hoping that one day he'd let her in...and she thought he had...

Before she could go too deep into that unmarked road of thought, she caught movement at the corner of her eye, and saw that he had shifted back to a human...and he was touching his right wrist as if it hurt. She narrowed her eyes. "Are you hurt?" Whether this was a signal to talk or not, she was going to ask...and she didn't just mean his wrist, honestly. It was so tempting to reach out, but again, she didn't know what the rules were anymore.

[Panic]

Hurt? Panic twitched when he realized what he was doing. He quickly gripped his hands behind his back, like he'd done before. He'd been trained to do this, despite the fact that Panic hated how it made him feel like his chest was open and unguarded. Apparently that was the point. Squeezing his hands together tightly, he could feel the ring on his left hand. He'd almost forgotten and was glad to see Della hadn't noticed thus far. Carefully, inconspicuously, he slipped it off and slid it in the pocket furthest from her. It came off easier, he was thinner than when he had made it originally. Despite having given up hope to see her again, he kept the ring. It was like a bittersweet reminder. Despite the fact that he had nothing from her when he returned to the underworld, he often pretended that the ring was a gift. He knew it was pathetic, but he was pathetic, so it didn't make much of a difference.

"N-No" Panic said, as clearly as possible. There was something changed about his voice too. Although he still stammered fairly often, his tone was missing a certain waver that came with constant fear. Not to mention he was lying to her. That was very bold for Panic, but she didn't need to think kindly on him after he was gone. In fact, he might dare think he'd prefer it. She deserved to hate him and to move on. She deserved to find someone far more worthy than he. He, however, deserved to leaving, knowing that he could have had a perfect life if he'd just been stronger.

Panic didn't say anything else. He glanced up occasionally when an odd sound came from in front of them somewhere. He tried not to jump every time the wind moved a plant in their wild surroundings. He knew that at any moment this odd wasteland of a school could squish them flat and, yet, his hands shook and his chest rattled because of the potential conversation that stood before him. Panic tried to keep breathing, but his throat felt like it was closing up. Don't get worked up, he was thinking. He won't allow it.

[Della Miller]

Della didn’t buy that for a second…but she almost took a weird sort of comfort in that in the midst of being borderline offended. Because at least she could figure that out about him. She had gotten used to thinking she could crack most cases given enough time, but him…please tell her she wasn’t going to turn out just as clueless as before, only this time fully aware there was something very important she was missing. If there was one thing she could think of that’d be more frustrating than realizing in hindsight how much she had missed before she was with him, it’d be KNOWING how much you were missing and having no idea how to catch it.

“Right…” she murmured. One of the stranger plants they were walking past seemed to reach out like a tentacle wishing to draw them in. She wrinkled her nose, pulled out her switch knife, and tried hacking at it to scare it away. That seemed to discourage it enough to flinch, and they walked passed it with little incident.

She was going to need to figure some way in…well…they were headed towards the portal, right? And he had…he had asked if they could go back. What the hell was that about?

“So…what? Has the Underworld gotten better or something? Is that why you want to go back?” Her voice came out more hurt than she would have wanted. Could you blame her though? She thought tirelessly of storming the Underworld to free Panic from Hades’ influence long before she even realized she loved him, and just the idea that he’d willingly go back, something didn’t add up, something…something occurred to her. And it actually forced her to glance over at him, horrified realization creeping onto her features.

“…or are you worried about what will happen if you don’t?”

[Panic]

Panic's heart was pounding so hard it was causing him physical pain. Every time it hit his rib cage violently, he felt a sharp pain strike him like a sneak bite. His hands quickly grew slippery with sweat and he had to keep adjusting them to keep his grip. He let out a sharp exhale though his nose when the vine approached Della, but of course she handled it without so much as a flinch. Even if he wasn't the way he was, even if he was bravest he had ever been, he would never add up to her courage. Sure, it was just a plant to her, but to him it was a world ending event. Most everything was. Most everything used to be. Now there was a bit more darkness in his heart, now there was a bit more despair. A bit more reason to wonder why it all mattered.

There was a dim fire in his heart that lit the moment he fell in love with her. His soul had always been cold and damp, never wondering why he had to do thing things he was required to do, never questioning his lot in life. He deserved ever inch of pain that came his way, but then she came along and ruined him. It wasn't a strong flame, but he couldn't put it out no matter how hard he tried and, every now and again, it would flare in a shining moment of odd bravery brought on by rage. This was one of those moments. The fire burned him when she spoke of the underworld and he twisted his head in her direction, casting a steely look at the ground near her feet. Like he wanted to go back!

Panic adjusted quickly, forcing the fire back down and turning his head away. He wasn't really mad at her, after all. He didn't speak. He could feel something dawning on her even before she glanced his way, but he tried hard not to react. He took long, unsteady breaths. He tried to focus on staying calm, her words reminding him of what he master was capable of making him do. He rubbed his wrist again behind his back.

"It...." Panic lost his voice and swallowed hard. "It doesn't matter." he said quietly, but with an uncharacteristically amount of sternness in his tone. He hoped she'd drop it. Her realizing why he wanted to go back would certainly only make it worse. Maybe she'd try and stop him.

[Della Miller]

He was refusing to look at her, and somehow, even though it hurt to know that, that gave her all the answer she needed. Something was definitely going on, and Panic felt like he had to hide and push her away in order to keep her safe. This, this she could work with because now there was a problem to solve, perhaps an enemy to battle, rather than just very complicated emotions based off of ten years apart.

...not that the two were unrelated, as she could see in Panic's response. She narrowed her eyes, and for a brief moment pondered going the route she had gone through out this whole day; respect his wishes, ignore the gnawing in her heart, let things be silent and secret between them...

Fortunately, stronger than her desire to keep Panic comfortable was to keep Panic safe, and if she was right, he very much wouldn't be if he went back to the Underworld, so he'd have to really convince her that he thought there was nothing for him here if she was even going to come close to letting him go through those portals.

With a sternness in her own voice, she answered, "I'm inclined to think it does, Panic. As long as I've known you, you've been terrified of that place, terrified of Hades...and now all of a sudden you feel compelled to go back? Something's clearly wrong, and you can't convince me otherwise, and if you think I'm going to let you go straight to where you're going to keep getting hurt? Then you've clearly forgotten who I am..."

With a sigh, realizing she sounded far too angry with him, which was the exact opposite of what she wanted, she turned her voice to a gentler tone, a tone that she used with them back when they were in the "Once upon a time" portion of their story...that was probably the voice that won him over, after all. "I get if you thought that distance and time would've changed things, but it hasn't...not for me..."

And deep down, she knew she was setting herself up for a pretty heartbreaking answer...but she had a plan for that, if that occasion should arise.

[Panic]

Panic was losing control. He could feel the cracks beginning to widen the moment they were alone. He glanced in front of them, their destination was growing closer. However, at the rate Della was pushing the conversation, they would never make it in time. He feared what he might be told to do at any moment. He feared that he may lose control due to some outside force, but, above all, he feared losing control to something that was already inside him. The fire.

It licked and burned his insides with every step, with every word exchanged between them. A buzzing was growing in his ears like a swarm of distressed wasps. Her words the reason for their waking. He didn't want to be mad at Della. He'd hardly ever been fully angry in his life, but things were different now and there was an anger inside him that came out weather he wanted it to or not. He kept it so locked down and pressurized that it was a wonder he hadn't begun to combust sooner. Panic nearly spoke when she told him she would let him go. He wasn't sure what he had been planning to say, but his lips parted and his eyes began to shift colors like disturbed water. He tilted his head in her direction, but the words died when she tried a different done. The fire lessened. His eyes settled on blue.

With an overwhelming amount or remorse and guilt over something he hadn't even said and an action he hadn't even took, Panic felt his chest tighten and throat swell up. He felt like crying. She was the most thoughtful, strong, and caring woman he could imagine on earth or off it. She was trying to find a way back to him, to bridge the distance of ten years and, yet, Panic couldn't allow it. He had crossed over into a nefarious world that he could not find his way out of, even if he wanted to. His wristband grew hot against his skin and he was reminded why he had to leave.

After a long pause Panic took a breath and squeezed his hands, hoping for courage. "I've changed." he said, quieter than he wanted to. He wanted to sound convincing, it was the truth, after all. The problem was he knew she may think he meant that his love for her had changed, which was an utter and terrible lie.

[Della Miller]

His response was…vague. Which shouldn’t have been a surprise, there were days back then where it was a total miracle if she got more than a few words out of him. And she remembered how she had come to accept that, and just did everything she could to help him see that it was okay to talk to her properly, if he wanted to. She had never really thought of herself as nurturing before she met him, but something about him really brought that out of her. She didn’t know if it was just that she already loved him so early on, or what. She couldn’t pinpoint when she fell for him to this day. She was in the middle of it before she even knew it had begun, as Mr. Darcy had once put it…

But more to the point, what he had actually said. I’ve changed. Well no kidding, that tends to happen in a decade, and despite everything, she had sensed something different in what little she could get out of him. For one thing, he had barely stammered. That was huge. And while he still avoided eye contact, the way he carried himself, it certainly wasn’t confident, and there was still some self-loathing in his eyes, but…it wasn’t the trembling boy she had met either.

She’d almost be overjoyed if she wasn’t so concerned by everything else.

I’ve changed had to have some implicit meaning, especially in response to what she said…she just wasn’t sure if she believed it was the “obvious” answer, that he had moved on from her, that he was done with them. Perhaps a younger and more vulnerable Della would have assumed that, as she used to assume she was no good for him. Fortunately maturity had wormed its way into her brain. So no, she wasn’t assuming that, especially not with how small his voice got. He sounded ashamed, which COULD indicate that dreaded possibility, but it could also just mean her theory was a direct hit.

“Maybe so…but I don’t care. You’re going to have to do a lot more than that to push me away…” She almost smiled towards the end… but then she caught sight of a much bigger plant that looked like it had teeth creep up behind him. Her eyes widened, with a shout of his name, she grabbed him by the shoulders, trying to drag him back. Their drama was temporarily erased from her head, right now her only priority was keeping him safe.

[Panic]

Panic was created to be submissive, a minion to a greater force. Specifically a servant to the dark. He was literally a demon from hell. The fact that he had done any good in the world or brought any joy to any living thing was a war against nature. He knew this in the deepest part of his owned soul. However, it didn't make this any easier. Perhaps this was the only reason he'd been sent here, just another way to break him. Just another way to test his limits. Yet, even that was too hopeful because, if that had really been the case, why had others been brought back too? No, there was some greater force at hand and Panic could do nothing but succumb to it. Well, not quite. He was doing something. He was trying to leave. Despite the torture that awaited him, the idea of Della getting hurt or worse was still the far more terrible option. There was never a question.

Panic was careful. The gods know he would never be impulsive. He mus agonize over every detail until his emotions burst forth and forced action, or an outside factor has the same effect. He had more control over his emotions then he had before; the only good to come out of the fire. A focusing, dim rage gave him a center. It was anyone's guess whether this was any better than the chaos of only fear. Perhaps it all depended on the light, or the person doing the guessing. He was less likely to have his fears cause an outburst, but, still, spontaneity could be forced upon him under rare circumstances. This was one of them.

Della began to speak and she sounded more like her old self. Clever and strong and stubborn. Panic felt a warmth in his heart that he couldn't shove away despite his best efforts. Perhaps the Fate's figured they could help along his desires because all warmth was sapped from him as the creeping feeling of being closed in on tingled up his back. He turned just as Della grabbed him and pulled him away. The giant plant closed its jaws on open air. They'd made it to the building, but the plant had them cornered them against the crumbling facade. It lifted it's gnarled, spiky face toward them and prepared to lunge. Without thinking, Panic grew to the full height of an adult grizzly bear and roared. He was not allowed to hurt Della and neither was anyone or anything else. He let out a roar and batted the toothy bud away with one paw and with the massive swipe of the other, he sliced the head from the stem. He turned and placed a giant arm on either side of Della against the wall, you know, in case it released spikes or poison or something else truly awful. He could get hit with all that and survive without question. She could not. When he was pretty sure the threat had passed he shrunk back down into a man, but he couldn't move.

He was looking at her again, like he had when she'd caught him off guard after stumbling out of the portal. His eyes his and her hers. He was close to her and, this time, it was by his doing. Della didn't need protecting, why had he done this? Had he been secretly waiting for an opportunity to get her between his arms? He was breathing heavily from the adrenaline and, perhaps, something else. That fire began to rage again inside him, but it wasn't the same feeling as when he was angry. He swallowed hard. He was frozen. Frozen with fear for both moving and staying. He couldn't make the decision on his own.

"S-s-sorry" He stammered quietly. He felt ten years younger. Like he was meeting her again for the first time and failing once again to steal his heart away from loving her.

[Della Miller]

Della had gotten used to the idea that Panic was really just a normal person with anxiety, underneath the demonic heritage. She had gotten used to the fact that she would often have to help him through his attacks, or soothe him of whatever was frightening him at the moment. Hell, part of why she announced she was armed was hoping that Panic would remember he was safe with her, that she would rather die than allow something to hurt him.

The idea of Panic being the one to protect her had never even been planted in her mind, let alone been given the nutrients to grow into a full-fledged truth.

But as the boy in her arms suddenly grew fur, suddenly grew several feet above her, and let out a roar that made her instinctively jump back further into the wall of the crumbling building. Her eyes widened as she gazed up, the sun hitting Panic just right that the back of his newly grizzly-fied head was engulfed in shadow, that roar echoing in her mind as she tried to process the fact that he was…fighting that thing off.

Panic.

Fighting.

It wasn’t until he was covering her from…she supposed some kind of fall out from literally beheading that thing, somewhere between when he turned back to her, and then turned back into him, that she realized that she was grinning, and that tears were peeking out from the corners of her eyes. And it was only when he was a man again, when he was trembling and muttering an apology that sounded far more like the boy she had left, that she realized that the feeling that dominated her heart right now, more than gratitude and confusion, far more than the frustration she had been feeling, and perhaps even rivalling love, was pride.

In spite of her logic suggesting this wasn’t the time, one of her hands found their way to his face, her grin broadening. “Do not apologize for being amazing, Panic…just…you see? You don’t have to leave to protect me, you’re already doing it right here. And whatever this is, we can deal with it together, because that’s what we should’ve been doing this whole time.”

Then her left hand reached down, hoping she could take his, hoping he would feel the ring he gave her. "That's sure as hell what I agreed on...and you know damn well I don't break my promises."

[Panic]

She was smiling and his head was swimming. She was speaking and he thought he might pass out. She put her hand on his face and it was warm. He closed his eyes, thinking only on her gentle touch. She was saying such nice things. Her words drifted into his brain though a misty halo. He allowed himself to be delusional for a minute. They could fight together to fix everything, they could be together forever like they had planned. They had a future and a love that could bridge an obstacle that came their way. They could get married and, if that was all true, why shouldn't he kiss her right now? Why shouldn't he just close the gap between them. Was he leaning or falling? He couldn't be sure. Was he really so bold now to make this move? Her hand was weaving with his and her ring touched his skin and...

A searing, terrible pain engulfed him without warning. He shot back away from her, letting out a cry that sounded like a mixture of human anguish and several wounded animals. He clawed at the metal around his wrist. Then, all at once, he felt a horrible rage. His eyes turned cold and furious. He shot a loathing look at Della and a thousand voices in his head chorused a melody about murder. She was nothing, he was nothing. She was tricking him, she was trying to hurt him, trying to ruin his master's plan. Panic was sure of it. He morphed into a rabid wolf, growling and foaming and ready to advance. There was no love left in his heart. Then something snagged his leg.

With a yelp, he turned around to bite at the thorned vine digging into his hind leg. The spikes punctured his mouth as he tried to bite himself free. He morphed into a tiger, blood dribbling from his injured mouth. The vines didn't budge, finally he shrunk down into a mole and slipped free. He turned back into a man, panting and much worse for wear. His leg was bleeding as well as his mouth and he turned back to face Della. The pain had stopped, his face melted into one of absolute horror.

"I'm s-s-s" he squeaked, unable to get the words to tumble from his mouth. "Stay away f-f-from me" He said, a bit of fierceness coming back into his heart. He had to get as far away from her as possible. As many dangers lay around them, he was the biggest threat. Without letting another moment pass, he fashioned himself into a cheetah and raced off away from his love, from what he had just done. He'd have to find the portal room on his own.

[Della Miller]

For one beautiful moment, he wasn’t pushing her away. He was leaning against her hand, something she wasn’t sure she remembered him ever doing without hesitation before, which just made it all the better. And…and then he started leaning over, and her breath hitched, was he actually going to initiate a kiss? Gods, whatever horrible thing was happening, it clearly made him braver at least, and she was so ready to defeat this thing and take full advantage of what flowers they could find among the weeds…

But it all ended in a second, with Panic crying out in pain. She knew right away she never wanted to hear that sound from him again, so though her body was crying out to hold him, she held back as she asked, “What’s happening?” in a voice that wasn’t quite so terrible, but was still breaking in fear and heartbreak (or so she thought, but she wasn’t going to know heartbreak until a few seconds from then).

He was clawing at that band, that band she had first noticed when he was limping over to her, what the hell was that thing, it had to have had something to do with whatever Panic was protecting her from, and she wanted nothing more than to rip it off of him so it would stop hurting him—

And then he looked at her with murder in his eyes. She immediately stepped back even though she was shocked to the core, and not really dictating what her own actions were, because how COULD you when the man you loved looked at you like that? And what was worse was the fact that he was now attacking her in the very same way he had tried to save her just minutes before, who the hell would’ve thought her rescuer would now be her attacker. Perhaps someone who was less used to the goings on in this town would have thought the worst, but she knew damn well how often outer forces could manipulate your mind, could make you do things you’d never normally do…but the fact was that she needed to get out of this if she had any hope of helping him at all…her stomach turned as she thought she might have to hurt him to save them both—

But then a vine did the job for her. And there was way too much blood, and if she didn’t know any better she’d be certain that he’d die from it, and even as a tiger with a mouth dripping with blood, she wanted to go over there, but she had no idea who was controlling him right now, and couldn’t risk it…sure, a part of her wanted to sacrifice everything for him, but how the hell would he feel when he came to his senses and she was dead? She was no good to him or anyone that way.

It was only when he became a man again, and stared at her with such horror that she knew she had him back, but before she could move from her spot against the wall, he was running off, and no way was she going to be able to catch up to a cheetah.

Only now was she aware of how hard she was breathing, how exhausted she felt from the most action packed five minutes of her life since she first left this place. The fact she wasn’t a teenager anymore probably didn’t help matters. A part of her honestly wanted to cry but couldn’t seem to make that work. She couldn’t seem to get any response to work, until she muttered to herself, “Holy Hades, what the fuck have you done to him?”

Fin