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Free. He almost can't believe it.
After three decades, finally, finally, his father lies dead. Blown into bits, most likely. A man who fought to surpass God made into nothing but ash and sour memories.
After years of being beaten, of being tormented, of being afraid, of being forced to hurt the good people around him; after years of being fed flesh and lies and being blinded and being darkness incarnate; after thirty years of misery, Travis is free.
The darkness is not destroyed, not yet, likely will never be, but for now, it meets the light halfway. In the distance, the sun has begun to rise, and Travis can tell from the way the rays of light fall across the ruins that the day will be overcast.
He almost can't believe it. Just moments ago, less than an hour, he had resigned himself to failure. The world would be devoured. The man who sired him, who raised him, would cast it all into eternal shadow and lead them all to nothing. The world was ending. And now there's sunlight.
Later, there will be rain.
He doesn't know how to feel. He feels wrung out and cold. Tired. Exhilarated. Terrified. He stares in disbelief at the dawn, at the ruins, at the people around him. They all survived. It doesn't make sense, but they survived.
"We made it…" Soft and wavering, her words mirror Travis' thoughts. Ashley doesn't stand, still kneeling beside Todd's body. His eyes glow red behind his eyelids, but he looks… normal. He looks like Todd. "Holy shit, we're alive."
The spectre of Larry appears, translucent in the sun. "Mostly, anyway."
"Larry, oh God," but Larry shakes his head and brings up a hand to silence her.
"It's okay. I'm just glad I'm not trapped in that treehouse anymore. I don't mind being undead as long as I can help you guys."
"We love you, Larry."
"We do," And now it's Sal. Standing, bright and beautiful amidst the wreckage. His hair is tangled and dirty and still somehow shines in the light. "Thank you, man. Without you, we'd be toast."
"Ah, it's nothing. You guys are the real heroes. Travis with his intel and Todd with his notes..."
Part of Travis thinks he should speak up, say no, Larry, you are, you've saved us all, you saved my Sal, but the world around him has narrowed to a single point and he couldn't speak if he tried.
Sal is alive.
He's standing there, flesh and bone and mask, in that horrible prison uniform, his hair a mess… He's standing there, alive.
It worked! Travis didn't think… To raise the dead is nearly impossible. Even with the horrible magic he learned and stole and gave to the team, he thought it would do little else but make Sal able to possess a host, make someone else a conduit for his spirit, but that's Sal's body. Short and wide and beautiful. Travis knows that body.
And then Sal is coming towards him, stepping over rubble and stone to stand before him.
"Travis," he says. He missed that voice so much. Thought he'd never hear it again. Hearing it in the fight against his father had meant everything, had written the sudden end of a suicide mission and enlisted Travis in the start of another - survive. Survive so he will too.
Sal is staring. Travis' good eye meets Sal's and he smiles. They match now. They have two eyes between them.
I only need the one anyway, he thinks. I'll only ever use it to look at you.
"Hi, Sally."
Those eyes squint behind the prosthetic, crinkling at the corners in that tell-tale way. Sal is smiling. His Sal is smiling. "Hi, angel. I'm so glad you're okay."
"You were dead."
"I thought I'd never see you again…" Sal reaches out, inches away from his hand on Travis' shoulder, when he pulls back. "Wait. Not yet. I wouldn't be able to pull away…"
"Then don't pull away."
"The others still need help… Neil and Maple." Sal's eye twitches like it wants to look away, but he doesn't. "I- I need your robe."
Without question, Travis removes it, holds the horrible grey cloak in front of him, hoping suddenly like a lovestruck teen that Sal's hands will touch his when he takes it.
Sal grabs it quickly, careful not to touch him, then turns away. Travis keeps staring, keeps soaking in every little movement his Sally Face makes, watches as Sal attempts to cover Neil and Maple's nude and wounded bodies. They're breathing, but not for long, Travis realizes with a sinking gut. They need medical treatment.
He says so, stepping forward, bringing himself even closer to the others in a way they haven't been since before Sal was arrested.
"You're right," says Larry. "We need to get Neil and Maple to a hospital. What the cultists did to them..."
"Todd needs help too. And the war isn't over - we won this time, but the Devourers of God have a wider reach than I've been able to tell you through notes."
"So no hospital." Breathless, Ash begins to gasp for air, hiding her quiet panting by fussing over Todd. She's shaking and her eyes are far away, even as she visibly struggles to keep herself in the present. Is it shock? Perhaps she needs medical treatment too. The gash on her arm is severe. "What the fuck are we supposed to do?"
Travis steps closer, kneels and puts a hand on her shoulder. "I can try some magic. Healing the spirit is much easier than healing the body, but…" He sees the wet reflection of himself in her eyes. "I'll do what I can."
"Damn," he hears Larry say. "When did he get badass?"
Despite everything, that makes Ash laugh. Even Travis cracks a small smile. He turns to kneel before Neil first, respectfully removing the cloak to reveal his chest and stomach before channeling his energy through the other man's body, his pale hands looking even more sickly against the dark skin and red blood. Too much blood.
He's focusing so intently that he almost misses Sal say, "He's always been badass. My man rules."
A great surge of energy passes through him, like light striking across his veins, and a great violet glow spreads from his hands into Neil's injured body. For a moment, the world around him - the ruins, Larry, Ash, Sal - falls away as he and Neil become one. He feels Neil's love, his fear, his pain; he feels the blood loss and the headrush and the ache of hunger. This kind of magic requires a sacrifice. All magic does. So, Travis focuses his love, his fear, his pain, and trades it for Neil's health. The payment is less than blood, less than Ashley is paying now for Sal's flesh through the unhealing wound on her forearm, but more than Travis is used to giving.
A memory. One of the last he had of his mother. He no longer knows what it's about, what he's given away, but he mourns it all the same. Neil's eyes slowly crack open and he wheezes, but he will live.
Maple's injuries are more severe. The darkness has infected her terribly and made her sick in many ways. Malnourishment ravishes her body more than anything else. The poor girl is so small, smaller than he's ever seen her. He doesn't see the woman he saw when he met her at the trial - he sees only a ghost of a girl. A skeleton.
She can be saved. But the exchange must be of greater value.
When the cloak is removed, placed back over Neil to offer him some perversion of dignity, Travis puts his hands on her stomach, wills back bile at the sharp edges of her broken body, and takes a deep breath. Searching, he thumbs through his memories, reaching for something important, something that can bring a woman so lost in darkness close enough to the light. He isn't buying a life, he reminds himself, just buying time. And time is much cheaper than people realize.
Still, he won't do this by halves. Not with all he's already done, not when so much of this is his fault. He reaches for a treasured memory, touches it gently, plays it over in his head, feels the first touch of his lips against Sal's prosthetic ones, feels the teenaged excitement, the giddy butterflies at finally getting what he wants, at being wanted in the way he wants another, and gives it all to Maple. Feels her fear and her hunger and her blood-letting rage and her deep black sea of loss and takes it all, gives all he can in return.
The body beneath his hands is still too sharp, too thin, but it rouses. Maple's eyes are red when they open, but she closes them again and looks normal, looks human. She'll live. They can banish the darkness in both she and Todd. Travis folds the cloak back over her body. They'll all live.
He stands, wobbly, and is caught by Ashley. Her eyes are even wetter than before, but she doesn't cry.
"Holy shit," she says again.
"Nothing about this is holy." Still, he turns and wraps his arms around her. Seeking comfort as readily as he is, she buries her face into his shoulder. "They'll live."
"How did you do that?" He looks over Ash's ragged brunette bob to meet Larry's see-through gaze.
"I'm a witch," he says ruefully. The parts of him that still hold his faith rebel a little at just the thought. That part is better ignored, lest he lose himself completely when these people (his people, his-) still need him. "I had to pay the meter, so to speak, but I bought them time. It's simple enough once you know the exchange rate."
Larry stares at the tired bodies of his friends, eyes wide. "That's crazy. And I'm a ghost, so shit doesn't surprise me anymore."
That makes Travis smile again, more honestly this time. Larry is still Larry. Maple and Neil will live. The Red-Eyed Demon can be wiped from the earth, banished from his friends. Ash is warm and solid in his arms. Sal is alive. They're all alive.
Everything is okay. Somehow.
Embarrassingly, Travis feels his face suddenly crumple. Ash isn't crying, is staying strong in the face of all this bullshit, but suddenly Travis is. He buries his face in her hair and tries very hard not to sob.
Sal is beside him in less than a minute, finally touching him, finally putting the weight of his hand on Travis' back. "It's okay, angel. You did it. Thanks to you, everyone's okay."
"I'm not some hero-"
"Best double agent I've ever known," says Larry. When Travis looks up, he sees him smiling. His face looks so boyish, still as young as the day he died. Nearly a decade, Travis realizes. In just a few years, Travis will be ten years older than Larry ever got to be. "Totally heroic."
"Very heroic," Ash assures him. "All of us are. We looked at evil and kicked it in the ass!"
Heart lighter than before, Travis laughs wetly. "Yeah, I guess. It's not over." Would likely never be over. "But it's a start."
And then Sal is there, behind him, wrapping his arms around Travis for the first time since '98. The heat of his body feels unreal. A blessing and a lie. Less than a day ago, he was in the dirt. Travis knows that for a fact, knows it more heavily than he's ever known anything in his life. Before all of this, he'd gone to Sal's grave one last time, lying to his father about visiting his mother's final resting place instead. He doesn't remember where she's buried - or, he realizes, if she was buried at all.
And now Sal is here and it doesn't matter what Travis knows or doesn't know. Because his angel, his Sally, is alive. They're all alive.
"We should get everyone back to the house," Ash mumbles into his skin. She sounds tired. Like the blood loss is catching up as the adrenaline leaves her.
Pushing that thought away, Travis forces a laugh. Forces a smile. "Yes, we should. You need water and some serious magic on the wound. And, hey - maybe we can find a way to get you a body too, Larry? If you want one. After we banish the darkness."
Looking uncertain as Travis suddenly feels, Larry shrugs. "Maybe… We'll see."
They most certainly would. For now, they'll work towards getting the residual evil out of their friends. The Devourers of God took a mighty hit tonight - and Travis and his friends, somehow, someway, didn't. For the first time, they gained where the Devourers lost.
It doesn't add up, not in the way Travis has begun to understand the payment required for gain. He's suddenly, blessedly free and so far, there's been no real cost, but it won't be that way for long.
Travis holds Sal and Ash tighter and looks at Larry, at Maple and Todd and Neil like they'll all dissipate into smoke if he looks away. No matter the cost that arises, no matter what he must pay, he will protect these people. He will.
And then Todd is groaning, attracting four pairs of eyes, and trying to stand on weak limbs. "Did we- Did we do it? Did we make it?"
"Yeah," Travis answers before anyone else does. The sun has risen just a little bit higher. "Yeah, we did."