It wasn't every day that Sean woke up with a splitting headache, tied up on a couch in an expensive looking office. In fact, this time would be the first.   He blinked the sleep from his eyes. As his vision cleared, he saw that a young man was sitting, legs crossed, on a swivel chair behind the desk. The man had blond hair, sky blue eyes, and was very, very tall. He wore a black sweatshirt, black skinny jeans, and brown boots. An unusually emo look, but Sean wasn't going to point that out. The man looked familiar, but he couldn't place from where.

He tried to forget the throbbing in his head and remember where he was. The last thing he remembered was...

"Damn," he swore under his breath. He suddenly recalled Mark turning into something, and Anti helping him out. Saving my life, my ass, he thought bitterly. Now he was in a strange office with no phone and no way of knowing whether or not what sat in the chair a few feet away was friendly. Should I try to talk to him? Maybe he's not hostile...but then again, I can never be sure. Fuck, I'm just gonna take my chances.

Sean steeled his nerves and coughed. "Um, hi there Mr...mr uh, blond man. Would you be so kind as to tell me where I am?"

The man swiveled around to face him. Sean could've sworn that his eyes were glowing cerulean. "I didn't think you'd be awake for hours."

His accent was distinctly Swedish, but there was something hidden. Whatever it was, it was definitely unfriendly. The blond regarded him with a disdainful sneer that he made no effort to hide. Sean didn't know what he did to deserve that look, but he could take a guess. Fuck. Anti, why don't you just stick to the plan, goddammit? Why do you have to single-handedly piss off everyone you meet? Sean's mind raced furiously, trying to connect the dots. How did he get here?

"Do you even talk?" Die sneered. "I thought you were stupid, but I'd have at least thought that Dark taught you better tha-"

"Dark?" Sean blurted, and immediately cursed himself for doing so. This guy didn't seem like the type who enjoyed being interrupted.

This question didn't have the negative effect he thought it would. Instead, his captor smiled dreamily, his eyes glowing even brighter than before. "He's...he's a business associate of sorts. He does what I need when I need it."

Sean sensed that there was more to this statement than just partners in business, but he let it slide. He had gotten lucky with his first question. There would be no second chances.

The man seemed to collect his thoughts and remember where he was. He cleared his throat and began absentmindedly tapping a rhythm on his left knee with his index finger. Normally, Sean wouldn't have noticed a detail so minute, but the taps seemed to echo through his skull. It was like standing on the stage with the base boosted. He could feel it inside of him, taking control of his mind and worming its way into the darkest corners of his thoughts. The tapping, the undying rhythm, was unnaturally mesmerizing. Sean felt himself in shock as a single blue wisp tore itself from the tip of Die's finger and floated in front of him. The flame came to hover directly above Sean's chest, and he could feel the intense heat radiating from it. He didn't believe in magic. He did, however, believe in sorcery.

The light drew into itself like a pitcher winding up a ball, and shot straight into him like an arrow. Sean gasped and arched his back as his heart exploded. He could feel each and every blood vessel pulsing. His eyes rolled up into his head and his mouth hung ajar, drooling. Whatever that flame was, it wasn't of this earth. It vibrated inside him, moving in and out of his muscles like a crack version of testosterone. But, he knew he wouldn't find anything like this on the store's shelf.

It was like he was having sex with Mark for the first time all over again. It was exhilarating and exhausting. It burned him up from the inside out. Except with Mark, it was pleasurable and enjoyable. This was some manipulative and tainted form of sex that didn't belong anywhere on Earth. He felt like screaming, but his throat was raw. His rasps were merely hollow shells of cries that went unheard. That man was doing this. He didn't know how, or why, but somehow he knew the man had control over the fire. He was directing it, telling it to squeeze him dry for any secrets his body might be hiding. Sean had never felt so exposed. Both emotionally and physically. He knew what rape was. This was a thousand times worse.

"P-p-please," he choked. "M-make it s-s-stop!"

The man rolled his chair to a stop in front of Sean and peered down at him. He stroked his small beard and squinted. "Does...does it really hurt that  much?" Sean's breath quickened as the man took a strand of his green hair and played with it. "Oh, my little pet. You and I are going to have so much fun."

So much fun. Those words echoed in Sean's mind. He was supposed to know what they meant, but he couldn't place it. His memory wasn't functioning correctly when this thing was inside of him. It made goosebumps trail up and down his arms even though his insides felt like they were superheated. He was confused and in immense pain. He knew that, eventually, his body would fail and he'd either die or fall into a coma. He preferred the latter, but he had no choice. His fate was in the hands of this man, this Swede who, for some reason, made his blood boil and his stomach churn in fury. He had no idea why. He never fully retained any of Anti's memories, just bits and pieces that made no sense out of context.

"Antiiii," the man said in a sing-song voice, running his fingers through Sean's hair. "I know you're in therrrrre. Come out and playyyy."

Anti? It's Anti he wants? But why would he want Anti except to...to kill him. He's going to kill Anti and kill me in the process! Fucking bitch! Sean's heart sped so fast he was sure it was going to pop out of his chest. He was just barely on the edge of consciousness. His body wanted to pass out, but the blue flame wouldn't allow it. It forced him to stay awake, forced him to cooperate. It wanted him, and it would get its way. You're weak without your precious Mark here to protect you.

This time, the tears that flowed out of his eyes were genuine. Mark protected him, that was his job. Mark was supposed to be there, Mark was supposed to be the strong one. The Alpha. The top in their top or bottom. Without Mark, what am I?

Nothing. He was nothing without Mark. He would always amount to nothing.

His life would be spent in the shadow of his redheaded lover being complacently nothing until he died.

Unless.

Unless he fought back.

Unless he proved that he could survive on his own.

Unless he protected himself.

A new strength surged through him. It coursed through his veins as strongly as the fire, giving him new life. Limb by limb, nerve by nerve, the fire slowly surrendered control. The man winced with every victory, visibly trying desperately to regain the lost ground. But, there was no coming back. Sean was strong. He was a fighter. And, for the first time in his life, he was brave.

It felt good to be brave.

Sean's bonds ripped apart. The fire flew across the room in all directions, throwing the man roughly against a wall. Sean heard a couple cracks, but he had no time to worry about that. Now, he was focused on expelling all of the dark sorcery from his body, bit by agonizing bit. He didn't think he had any sort of powers, just an ugly curse. Now, he might change his mind. He knew it wasn't him doing the magic.

It was Anti.

The last drop of evil exited his soul with a painful hiss. Sean fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. He was too weak to stand. Apparently, the magic he'd had was extremely draining. He grabbed the corner of a coffee table and shakily got to his knees. He felt like tearing out his intestines one by one. This was a nightmarish version of a hangover. And, despite all this, he felt indestructible. Not necessarily strong physically, but that wasn't the only way to be powerful.

"God fucking dammit," the Swede swore, before moaning painfully. He tried to move his arms, but immediately dropped them, wincing.

"Don't move," Sean instructed, each breath slowly steadying his heart rate. "I'll come to you." He crawled over bits of wood and fallen ceiling until he collapsed next to his captor. He forced himself to his knees and assessed the bearded man. He had something, probably a bone, puncturing the skin a tenth of a centimeter out of a hole in his jacket. That wasn't good. His face was bruised and he had an awful bloody nose. Sean sort of felt sorry for this man, but that thought was extinguished with a shudder when he remembered the violent torture the man had put him through. Still, sympathy didn't cause him to do what he did. Nor pity or chivalry. Just kindness.

"You have a rib sticking out," Sean observed. "We'll have to-"

"I know, genius!" the man spat and tried to sit up, but that only made the rib poke through even more and a red spot bloomed on his jacket.

Sean forced him back down. "Jesus fucking christ!  Sit still!  You'll only make it worse!"

The Swede collapsed and gave him a half lidded sneer. "Don't tell me what to do, idiot."

Sean stood up and tried not to mind the vertigo. He searched the room until he found a tablecloth. He took the cloth and ripped it, using the pieces to wrap around the man in a makeshift bandage. "It's not my best work," the Irishman admitted, "But it should stop the bleeding, or at the very least slow it."

His captor frowned at the bangade. He muttered something, and then looked back up at Sean. He pointed to his chest. "How?"

Sean bit his lower lip. How? How did he know how to wrap a bandage and fix a wound and stitch a cut? He shook his head. He could thank Anti for forcing him to cut himself so many times that he had to learn all of those skills. I hope you're happy, wherever you are, he thought angrily. As soon as he'd helped with the power boost, Anti had disappeared into the far reaches of his mind. He shook his head at the man. Not now. "Can you stand?" he asked. The man leaned on his elbows and shook his head no. Sean sighed. "Okay, put your arm around my shoulder." he instructed.

The man seemed resistant at first, but he eventually agreed. Sean hauled the man up in one shaky breath. Once they were both on their feet, they stumbled out of the office. Sean saw that they were in some sort of cement block school, on the first level, but he didn't have any idea of how to get out. "I'm gonna need you to lead me." he turned to his captor-turned-comrade. "How do we get out of here?"

It took a considerable number of times before the odd duo finally reached a pair of doors that led into a back alley. Sean squinted as the sun momentarily blinded him. He hadn't seen the sky for god knows how long. It felt nice to be in the open air, once again being among the lights of the city. But, it also felt surprisingly lonely. Normally, on lovely nights like this, Mark would take him to the park or they would sit on their apartment roof with deck chairs and watch the sunset. No matter what they did, it was always together. Now, Sean felt totally alone. The thing next to him shared no past connection other than through the one demon he was utterly pissed at. There was no hand holding or kisses on the cheek that Mark did just to make him flustered. 

There was only shallow breathing and sweaty palms as they struggled to stay alive.