He was sure he was going to die. Choking on rain - choking on his own air. And he couldn't even think about moving. Not when all of his wounds were bleeding red and all he could see was red and all he felt was red and his body felt blank.
This was the end for him. No Limbo, no Heaven. Pure death. The emptiness that was Hell, surely, and the pain that was loneliness. He couldn't fix what he'd done. And his chest was caving in - constricting, and he was dying.
Because he'd made sure everyone in his life was too gone to help.
And all at once, the pain ceased.
Ben could barely open his eyes to find a particular bushy-haired boy standing over him, soon kneeling and cradling his head in cold hands.
"I've got you," whispered an Irish voice, "I've got you."
The sight of the demon made him gasp with joy, blood spurting from his mouth but it didn't matter.
"Ewan," he breathed. A smile stretched across his lips and he reached up, touching the other's face. "God, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Ewan, I swear, just don't leave." He choked, looking at the other in earnest. "Please."
The other let out a breathy chuckle and tears rather than rain dripped onto Ben's face. Shaking hands brushed the rain and hair away from Ben's eyes and he leaned down and planted a gentle but needy kiss on Ben's forehead.
"It's okay," he mumbled through the kiss, and Ben felt his lips move against his skin. "I promise. I'm staying right here with you."
It hurt, but Ben sat up. His white shirt was inside out and bloody and muddy and black with soot and he ached but he looked at Ewan and he couldn't stop smiling.
Ewan put his hands on Ben's shoulders, looking him over and keeping him stable. His face held a sort of seriousness that drew Ben's smile away. Because something bad had happened. Something that couldn't be fixed.
Ben slowly allowed himself to survey the damage that had been done.
The ground was blackened by thunder. The lake held an unsettling stillness, the sky an inky black, void of any weather.
And there were two bodies in the lake. Floating, face down.
"I killed them," Ben breathed.
The hands on his shoulders drew away. Ben couldn't bring himself to look at the other, only focusing on the dead bodies. Gradually, he glanced behind him where everyone else lay.
He couldn't assess the damage long enough to know if anyone else was dead - Ewan took Ben's chin in his hand and brought his gaze forward too abruptly.
"Tell me what happened," whispered Ewan. "Just tell me what happened."
Ben shook his head. "I can't," he choked. "I don't... I don't want it to happen again."
He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the pain that shot down his body like lightning itself. Rather, focusing on the other's hands sliding off his shoulders as he rose.
Picking around the damage, he found one bottle of beer. He popped off the lid using the tree Phoebe had sat against and he rested the bottle against his lips.
"Don't want what to happen again?" Ewan asked, hesitancy and uncertainty lacing his voice.
"Explosive emotions," Ben croaked, taking a few sips.
When he lowered the bottle, Ewan was standing there. His eyes were twisted into a look of pity. A look of 'you're more than this,' of, 'I'm sorry.'
They shared a look. More than a look... They shared a feeling. A longing - a yearning, more, for each other. A yearning to stay together.
"Walking out of your house was the hardest thing I've done in years," Ewan began. He swallowed weakly, making eye contact with Ben in the least creepy way possible. "I was... angry that you'd hurt yourself like this, and I was upset that I... I didn't know how to help you. I didn't know how to f... fix you." He knelt, taking Ben's hands in his own. They felt warmer than they usually did.
"But, Ben," continued Ewan, grinning shakily, "you don't need fixing. You don't need help - you... you just need love. Stable, unconditional love that... that doesn't go anywhere, that doesn't leave when things get rough. Real love that just a friend can't give you. I'm... I want to give that to you. And when we complete that Enchantment, I'm going to make damn sure I stay."
"Promise?" Ben whispered, looking the other over.
"I promise," Ewan said.
He gently took the bottle from Ben's hands and he felt the glass slip from his fingers, set gently into the mud beneath them.
He didn't want to drink anymore. He just wanted to be with Ewan, hug him, exist with him.
Despite the fact that he didn't know the conditions of his friends, everything felt in place. Ewan, there, swearing to stay. Promising. He grinned, feeling a surge of life, giving him a grin and a tired chuckle and... a glowing light on his chest.
His eyes slid down to the Enchantment under his shirt, glowing a yellow light that only grew brighter, blinding both of them. He covered his eyes, grimacing slightly until the light faded.
All he could do was chuckle dryly once the light faded, setting his arms down.
"I guess we got temperance or something, Ewan-"
His lifted his gaze to find a sullen boy with fear in his eyes.
Time stopped when an American voice spit from his mouth.
"He's gone," whispered Stirling. "Ewan... left."