Arc jolted awake. His heavy breaths made his throat dry. He helped himself up from the bed, waking up in a dimly lit hospital room, with the smell of antiseptic lingering in the air.
The walls were painted a sterile white, and the only light came from a small lamp on the bedside table, casting shadows in the room.
He looked around and saw the clock on the wall across from him; it was 4 AM. Pierrot and Quill were by the beds in a corner, cold and slumped up in a nap. A thin blanket covered them both, barely offering any warmth against the chill in the room.
When he calmed down, he took a glass of water and relieved his thirst, feeling the cool water soothe his parched throat.
"You good?"
He coughed in surprise at the voice from the side and turned, placing the glass back on the bedside table.
"I-I'm good."
Pierrot moved closer, the bed creaking slightly as he sat down, crossing his arms from the cold.
There had been complete silence if not for the humming of the air conditioner and the rustle of fabric.
"We decided to keep it a secret." Pierrot turned to him. "Sycamore knows, and likely the whole PCU, but they're part of the team. But the church can't know. They shouldn't."
Arc was speechless. He did not know how or what to respond to Pierrot. Afraid they might be disappointed with him for keeping things, he wanted to stay silent. He wanted to overcome whatever it was that was trying to take over... but he failed. And now they knew. And he couldn't help but be afraid.
Tears started to well up in his eyes. He bit his lip, trying to hold them back. "I-I'm sorry..."
"For what?"
He repeatedly shook his head, his vision blurring. "For everything..." said Arc, his voice breaking.
"The only thing you're at fault for here is keeping things from us." Pierrot placed a hand on his knee. "The demon thing, you have no control over."
Arc nodded as tears trickled down his face. He wiped them away quickly.
"It's partly our fault for not letting you trust us..."
"No..." Arc shook his head. "No, it was all on me. I-I should have told you. But, but I thought I... I thought I could... do it." His voice shook more with each word. "I put Asher in danger, my mother in constant stress... my father in shame..." Arc felt a knot tighten in his chest.
Pierrot's expression softened.
"I couldn't do it. Why am I always so... far away?" he questioned himself, his hands trembling.
"I thought if I did nothing, eventually it would stop. But it didn't. It got worse. They got possessed. I put Asher in danger again... We almost died."
"It's my fault," Arc continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't protect them... and it's happening again. It's the demon again. And I—" Arc paused as his lips trembled. His whole body trembled, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
He let him cry. Minutes of crying as Pierrot waited for him to calm down.
Then he smiled at him. "Oh hey." Pierrot tried to break the tension. "This is the first time I've seen you crying." He chuckled. "You look surprisingly ugly."
Arc sniffled, a reluctant smile forming on his lips as Pierrot ruffled his hair. "Your hair grew pretty fast, you're no longer the baldie." Pierrot grinned.
He continued to look down, wiping his eyes with his arm, trying to regain his composure.
Pierrot released a deep breath and leaned back, facing him. "Don't worry. We'll get that demon out. Just don't let him win... no matter what."
Arc gave him a deep nod.
"We might have to talk to him again."
"It told me something..." he sniffed. "That the next time I was on the verge of dying, it might take over..."
"Pretty much. We would have to know more about him and how he is sealed to you. We're waiting for our Bishop next week, but Quill and I are planning to go to the archive."
Arc looked up in surprise. "Aren't we forbidden to go there?"
"Well..." Pierrot stretched and stood up.
"You're planning to sneak in..." Realization dawned upon him.
Pierrot did not say a word, only a smile plastered on his face.
Arc's brows creased further. "You'll get in trouble if you get caught..."
"Only if WE get caught." He stretched his torso from side to side. "And it will be crucial to your case."
"Who is part of the WE...?"
Pierrot grinned. "Quill and I, and the whoooole PCU unit!"
"Won't this be illegal? They're cops..."
"They'll be fine~ They're just 'investigating' anyhow."
"They don't know about the archive?"
Pierrot paused and put a finger on his temple. "I'm not so sure about that." He thought further. "Was he at the aftermath? No... he wasn't... or was he?" he murmured to himself.
"Anyhow!" He clapped his hands, making Quill flinch, hitting his head on a wall and waking up. "Shoot."
Quill groaned and sat up.
"Anyhow..." Pierrot whispered, "They're gonna help us. They don't have cases aside from the prank calls that lead to nowhere."
The mint-haired young man walked over to them, the expression on his face ready to tackle whoever woke him up.
"Y'all bodies fine?" Quill asked them both, his expression in a frown.
"I feel fine..." Arc replied, and Pierrot only nodded.
Quill studied Arc for a bit and onto Pierrot. He scrutinized every limb and raised his shirt to see his torso, studying for any strange marks or indication of manifestation side effects. He was about to unfasten his belt when Pierrot stopped him.
"Heyyy. I'm fine!"
Quill's expression didn't change. "You sure?"
"I-I'm pretty sure," Pierrot replied.
"Manifesting usually kills you... Are you sure?" Quill's firm voice made Pierrot nervous, but he shook him off.
"I said I'm fine..."
Quill released a deep breath and pulled a chair beside them, settling down on it. "Alright. So... we're going to the archive with Sycamore."
"I've told him that."
"It's not your fault that demon is dangerous."
"I've told him that."
Quill was beginning to get irked. "What haven't you told him?"
"What we're having for breakfast?"
Quill gave him a look of distaste. "We leave in two hours." He turned to Arc. "I want you to do something for me."
Arc nodded as he looked at the two, wondering if they were really 19 and 29 years old, and not the other way around...