Lily slowly turned her head to look down at Finntello as he spoke, a look of surprise mixed with distaste towards the dismissive reaction to what was happening in front of them. This was a rather major thing and he was happily snuggling back up into his covers. She stared at him for a moment before she let out a small huff and returned her attention to the two ghosts.

“I think we all need to rest.” She added to her comment by giving a pointed look towards Callisto. As irritating as he could be, no one should have to be in pain like that. Lily was grateful that she did not have to suffer through whatever that was when she regained a memory. With a small nod towards Xevon she moved back towards her bed. Of course she had heard what they had said to each other, even if Finn had not. It brought a little bit more sympathy to how she viewed them both. Stuck in a hellish realm with no one but each other and watching countless people perish, it had to be traumatising. Lily thought they were doing rather well mentally considering everything.

Callisto created a small sound from his throat as Xevon leaned his head against his own, letting his eyes fall to the floor. But it was fleeting and soon enough it was removed. Looking back up, he watched the small interaction, only giving a rough chuff of laughter towards Xevon’s comment regarding his appearance.

He had managed to almost completely straighten his spine by now, though it was still painful. Like a live wire running down his spine and up into his head, it was ebbing away but certainly still present. Carefully, he turned his head to look towards the beds just as Lily situated herself on top of the covers and pushed her head down into a pillow.

Callisto returned his eyes back towards Xevon and hesitantly withdrew his hand from his arm. It seemed they were both at an impasse in regards to the other being hurt. So at this rate, either both of them would not be fighting or they would both be getting seriously hurt.

Lily had settled into the bed as the ghosts had made their departure, however she did not close her eyes. No, instead she was staring at the side of Finn’s head. His eyes were closed, his chest was rising and falling steadily. But there was something amiss. She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly had caused him to make a switch, his father likely. Whatever it was, she hoped he woke up a little more like the man she had first met.

Callisto allowed himself to be guided into the next room, close enough to hear them but at least they were not being listened to right back. Only when Xevon had begun spluttering about how it was his fault did he furrow his brows, looking to his friend in confusion. He was still standing close enough to Xevon, being half held up by him so when he shook his head and his wings shifted, they brushed against his shoulder.

This was an awful lot of information to be taking in. Despite the reassuring words, Callisto couldn’t help but linger on that memory and Lily’s absolute certainty that she knew him.

“He will definitely be coming to find you if you told him you were the better looking one even as bones.” Callisto attempted to make a shift in his own mind, pulling a small smile to his lips. “It was not your fault, I did not know he had my memories either. How could you possibly have known?” He drew in another unsteady breath, glancing towards the door to the room.

“Thank you for coming back without a scratch.” He sighed out, bringing his head back around to look at Xevon’s eyes directly. He was just drawing an affectionate smile to his lips when he felt the sting again. His eyes widened as he felt his airways tighten again and the painful clanging within his head.

He reached out for Xevon and grasped onto his chest, unsure if he was clawing at skin or clothes. His breathing returning to that haggard strangulated sound as his spine curled over, trying to cough up presumably another wad of black substance. Callisto’s hand tightened its grip on Xevon and a small sob, barely audible came from him.

Just as quickly as it had come about, Callisto had managed to spit out another black ball that faded into nothingness. But he did not move from where he was for a few long moments, the hand on Xevon’s chest had stilled. In fact, his entire body had stilled.

Finn did his best to try and sleep. He wanted to sleep, to wake up from this whole thing. But the more time passed, the closer it came to that immovable reality that he didn't want to face. It was going to come down to them or that thing. There was no way around it. The only entrance was some sort of mystical moving door that they had to find.

But why? That was what he was struggling with. The why-factor. The dagger, the woman, Lily... everything of that sort. Why was he somehow a part of it? Surely, they wouldn't really care about .. him. Unless he had something else hiding in his past.

Finn's hand twitched slightly, fighting to see more of the memory he had with the dagger and the woman. Had he... actually killed her?

He... he could... he could see the room again, forcing himself to see past the clouds. The woman collapsing, the dagger in hand. Yes. A larger hand gripped his wrist and pulled him backwards with a shout of surprise and Finn whirled around to meet them, dropping the knife from one hand to the other. Was he ambidextrous? That would be wicked cool. Finn drove the knife upward into the ribcage of the man--HIM. That jerk that knocked his lights out at home! Serves him right!

Finn scowled and shook his head, pushing back from the man. But the voice rattled in his head--voices. Voices rattled in his head for a moment or two but they all spoke at the same time. While he couldn't entirely piece through what they were saying, the feeling was clear. You break it, you buy it. And in Finn's case, he had taken out two... priests? Priestess? Something like that.

Finn rolled onto his side with a loose sigh, shaking his head after a moment or two. But hey, he was apparently ambidextrous. That was cool.

--

Xevon steadied his ghastly companion, watching him with concern. His hand clutched Callisto's shoulders, pulling him closer. "Please--please no," he whispered, gathering the ghost in his arms. "Callisto, please, talk to me."

He hardly cared that Callisto was holding onto him, he cared more about the stilling of his hands and entire form.

That was what terrified him.

Her eyes remained trained on Finn for a long time, waiting to see if he would blink his own eyes open and meet her gaze. He didn’t, only after a while did he sigh and roll himself onto his side. Facing away from her. Lily could feel her eyelids growing heavier the longer she lay there, the more comfortable the pillow felt.

She was unsure if she wanted her dreams to divulge into memories or not. If they did at least she would gain context and potentially key information, however it was never pleasant. All her memories so far had been riddled with fear and panic.

Eventually, she did slide into sleep. It was peaceful enough, light but at least she was resting. Lily remained still on her side, breathing calmly.

He could feel himself being pulled into Xevon’s form, but he didn’t see it. Once again his vision was blurring and it felt like he was about to faint. Then murky images of that same room came to him, the smell of sulphur and blood pungent in the air. Except this time there were others. Many others, spread around some sort of drawing on the floor, smiles blazoned across their faces. The sounds that assault him were a choir of voices all mingled together, calling out. He could feel his own throat vibrating with his own voice, joining them into their words.

In the split second it had taken for Callisto to still, it only took another moment for his body to burst back with a gasp for air. Panting with his head hung, the crown of his head pressed squarely into Xevon’s chest. Desperate to ground himself back in his current environment, he hung there still gripping onto his chest. His hand balled up beside his own head, hair fluffed up around where he was touching the other man.

He had done it again. Whatever Xevon had taunted the god with, whatever it knew about him, the god was slamming more memories into his head. Callisto could only imagine it was to punish not only himself but to cause distress to Xevon, the real tormentor of the deity.

His lips pulled back into a grimace as he fought his emotions. Callisto had spent so long with out memories of his time before this hotel that the sudden assault was breaking him down, he didn’t know what he was seeing. Who he really was, whatever it meant, he was going to find out a lot sooner than later. Through his gritted teeth a masked sob escaped him, unable to prevent it from slipping out of his throat. He could feel a familiar prickle of water along his wide eyes.

He had to get a hold of himself, this wasn’t helping anything. What was he, a child? It’s only memories, the pain is bad sure but he shouldn’t be so torn up over some silly visions. It had been centuries since he was alive. What did it matter now? He hoped it didn’t matter. Not when he could hear the strangled pain in Xevon’s voice, the restrained anger that Callisto could feel practically burning beneath his skin.

It took him a few second to move, but he didn’t lose the contact his head had with Xevon, instead sliding his head up to the crook of his neck. The balled up hand moved as well, encircling around the other side of Xevon’s neck and Callisto held on tight. His other hand slipped around his torso as well, there was still a slight shake to his muscles, but nothing that wouldn’t fade in a few minutes.

He didn’t say anything still, there wasn’t anything he could say, neither of them could stop whatever this attack on his mind was. The god was probably cackling in the hallways, enjoying the pain he was bringing to them. Once again that long dead flame of vengeance flickered to life within his chest, the sounds of Xevon’s distress igniting it.

It was peaceful until the black void merged into something tangible. Her breathing hitched, but she did not wake, the smooth rhythm soon returning. It wasn’t the dark alley way, it was a house. White painted walls, hanging pictures, a modern kitchen island. A woman was standing in there, holding a tray in her hands, smiling towards Lily. She was saying something but she couldn’t make out what it was, there was an interference preventing her from understanding. Something like static.

Then a man walked into the kitchen and Lily’s head turned to look at him as he bent to place a kiss on the woman’s temple. They looked happy. Normal people. For once she was seeing something nice. It was almost enjoyable.

The man walked away, his footsteps fading as he walked into some other part of the house. Once he was gone, the woman’s smile dropped from her face and was replaced with disgust. She tossed the tray haphazardly onto the kitchen could and spat something under her breath towards Lily, waving a tea towel at her in clear anger.

Lily felt her heart twist, it was like someone was wringing it out. It wasn’t what she felt now, but what she had felt then. Hot tears were brimming in her eyes as she sobbed something back, short and pained. It only resulted in another hostile bite from the woman. Then her face looked less obscure, as the woman leaned across the island and hissed her words at Lily. Her voice and her face. It was the woman who had taken her to the alleyway. It was her mother.

Callisto swallowed thickly, trying to rid himself of the remains of whatever had been trapped in his airways. He didn’t know what it was, but it looked like those tendrils that lodged in them, but not as tangible. Whatever they were, they tasted horrific.

As he felt the comforting weight of Xevon’s head lean down on his own, he felt his shoulders become slack. The taut muscles carefully dropped down, exhausted. He took in a deep breath, the air was injected with the smell of Xevon. Obviously he could smell him from a mile away, but at this proximity it was a little dizzying.

He swallowed again, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he regained his mind. He hadn’t gained much. A room, a wooden room with once only him and fire, then presumably later him and many others. But there was the smell of blood. His lip curled ever so slightly at that fact. Why had there been blood? What had he been doing and why did the god think it was amusing?

At Xevon’s words, he angled his head to the side, pressed his nose into the skin on Xevon’s neck and let out a huff of air. If this is what it was going to be like every time he regained a memory, then he would happily have amnesia for the remainder of his life.

Lily felt her skin tingle at the realisation. Her mother had carted her off to that room, to be wedded. To be sacrificed to this thing, this place. As her mother began to raise her voice, she heard the man return to the room. Confusion surrounded him as her mother corrected her stance and went back to organising the tray of baked goods, smiling at him.

He slid up beside her and began to mumble, helping her with the work. Lily looked down at their hands as they worked. Two golden bands wrapped around each of their left ring fingers, a small white jewel fixed to each. Lily looked back up, the man was looking directly at her, an air of warmth and love about him.

With that, Lily woke up. Her eyes blinked open quickly, clearing the haze from them as she quickly sat up. Immediately, she saw Finn’s empty bed. Then her head slotted together what she had seen. In silence, she raised a hand to her mouth and covered it, eyes squinting as she tried to stop herself from crying. She managed quite well actually, only her shoulders turning inwards and vaguely unsteady breath leaking out.