Chapter Text
The strangest part of all of this was how easily it had all come together. Faith Fernandez stares at a ceiling that she’s never had before and she takes a breath. She rolls onto her side, there’s a closet on that side. She returns to her back, there’s a ceiling fan but it looks unsteady. Then the other side. There’s a window there with the blinds drawn, she can hear the faint hum of the city outside as it stretches and pulls itself from the macro-stupor that all places endure in the mornings.
She had a bedroom.
She didn’t have to fight for it, she didn't have to do anything horrible to get it…She still did try something terrible. The guy who owns the place is outside and she can hear him moving around in the other room. There’s a faint buzz of music coming from the main room.
She sat up, the covers draped over her body like a shawl. She opens the blinds and Monstropolis looms just outside. It’s not her Monstropolis. The buildings are different, the products on the billboards don’t match and the sky isn’t on fire. She’s not this place’s Faith Fernandez either to be fair.
She comes from somewhere else, somewhere that isn’t there anymore. She’s from a place that was “evil” but now it wasn’t anything but a memory. Thrown into the cosmic maelstrom she was lost for….Who knows how long. Spat out in the home of the people who stole her world from her. Took all her people away and now…
Someone with the face of one of the worst people she knew was next door and he’d told her she could stay with him as long as she needed to. No questions asked besides; “What do you want for breakfast?”
Faith takes a deep breath. She conjures a hole in space, a twist of her fingers unlatches cosmic security and she reaches into the void and withdraws a long white shirt, a pair of dark pants and a pair of sunglasses.
She undresses herself and pulls on these new clothes. Out of habit she even makes the bed, tucking it in nice and neat before she ventures out into the apartment.
The music that fills the place is…Not in English. Sounds French, chirpy and peppy. The corridor that leads to the main living area has a few posters littering it. SKNT ELBWS, THE STYFFS and that ever reliable universal constant The Rolling Stones.
The owner of the house- one Dennis Doe stands at a counter top and he sways with the music. He mangles the pronunciation of all the words but he just stands there and he feels the beat. He raises his hands over his head and spins them in a slow circle, hips mirroring the motion as he turns. Fingers curling and uncurling as he lets the world fall away and the song rise in him.
He slides across the floor toward a mixing bowl and picks it up, going at it with a whisk he coos out nonsense sounds to the beat. Faith moves slowly, a jungle cat watching the poor little thing unaware of just how bite sized it was. Not that he was bite sized…She tried to suck out his soul, the cosmic fuel of all magic and found he was…Soulless was the wrong term.
If souls were the sails to get us across the ocean of existence. He was left with tatters, there was enough there to function but only just enough. She tried to suck it out of him but got a vase to the skull for her troubles. That was her room-mate interview.
He’s wearing a pair of shorts, cut offs? A leather jacket and when he spins around she catches a glimpse of a T-Shirt which declares him “Dead and Luvin it”. He freezes when he notices Faith there, she gives him a sly little look.
“How’s your head?” He asks her softly, reaching for the record player and lifting the needle. “I suppose I should ask how you are in general, feeling any better?”
“It’s amazing what a night in a warm bed can do for recovery.” Faith tells him as she lounges on the only piece of furniture in the main room. A soft couch, low to the ground and facing an immense bookcase. The whole thing looked clogged, fit to burst with literature. Books with soft spine, hard spines and floppy comic books occupy every available inch. If you pulled out the wrong book it might well kill you.
“Oh that’s good to hear,” Dennis sighs and looks at his feet, “I haven’t had to do emergency first-aid in a spell. Abby and I aren’t often in need of it.”
“I know you CAN’T speak French, so let’s stop with the we stuff.” Abby rises from his back, hands on Dennis’ shoulders. “I still say she could have slept on the couch. That’s your bed.”
“She’s a guest until she’s a proper tennant.” Dennis tells her. “We treat guests kindly, I am nothing if not a gracious host.”
“You think you’d know that, ghost.” Faith smirks and Abby looks at her, her eyes go to a plate on the counter top. “Try it and I will exorcise you.”
“How about.” Dennis holds up his hands. “We have a no hostility rule, eh?” He takes a deep breath. “Faith you’re in a decently safe place. One of my neighbours does do this weird scream therapy thing every other Tuesday but that’s about as wild as it gets here.” He puts down the mixing bowl. Abby picks it up and gets to work mixing.
He approaches Faith slowly. “You have nothing to worry about from me and that’s not just because you could probably kick my ass.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m just a guy and I’m not going to bother you.”
Faith scoots back just a little. She doesn’t trust that smile, those eyes or that stupid little haircut. She knows you Dennis Doe. She knows the other version of you. His smile was more real than yours, his eyes held more fire and his voice more passion. You are not the Dennis she knows but how different could you be from that man whom she hopes was dragged down into nothingness with the rest of her world.
Some people didn’t deserve the air in their lungs.
“I wanted,” Dennis moves over to his fridge and opens the freeze side. He removes a large box of popsicles and removes from it a wad of cash. “This is a chunk of what you gave me last night- which is of course your money.”
“I’m paying rent.”
“Oh yes you are!” Dennis nods. “I just don’t need all of your money right now. You should probably have it. You might need it for food or clothes or whatever.” Dennis sighs. “I mean if you tell me what you like to eat I can make it, it’ll be nice to have another mouth to feed. Keep me sharp, please.”
Faith makes a noise. “It is hard to get cash in this universe.”
“Tell me about it,” he nods at Abby, “we’re both bloody dead.”
“Hard to get a bank card.”
“Hard to get approved for contracts.” Dennis goes on. “We’ve found little ways around it but we’re also very much a liquid operation.” He clasps his hands. “Thank goodness for CashApp and Paypal Wallets.”
“Keeping us a lil digital.” Abby goes on and shows Dennis the mixture in the bowl and he gives her a thumbs up, she wiggles her shoulders in delight. “I take it your like OTHER UNIVERSE cards don’t work?”
“A machine ate one so no.” She grimaces and rubs at her forehead. “I did get cash back but the card is gone.”
“Bummer.” Dennis mumbles. “What about a phone, do you have one?”
“Prepaid minutes,” Faith tells them holding up a cheap little brick of red steel, “it’s alright but it’s not exactly fancy. Data sucks ass.”
“Weak.” Abby mumbles. “Dennis is getting his phone upgraded soon, you could totally have his old one.”
“Yeah! That’s a good idea, Abby.” Dennis grins. “It’s not much but it’s umm…” He looks at Faith’s phone. “Current.” He tells her and she leans back on the couch.
“I don’t plan to be here long.” She tells the pair. “I am here until some things heal up and until the heat dies down.”
“Oh good luck with that.” Abby chuckles, passing Dennis the bowl and whisk. “You kicked three HORNETS nests in a row. Damien and his hellion army, that fucked up cursed pharoah guy with his army of monsters and Vera who just…Vera.”
Faith sighs and rubs at her forehead. “I know…But thanks to that I’ve got most of what I need to try and get home.” Or whatever is left of it.
“Well if you need a hand be sure to ask.” Dennis tells her. “Breakfast…Or an early lunch will be with you soon. I might have gone overboard.” He flashes a toothy grin. “I’m not used to having guests over, me and Abby are used to it just being the two of us.” He chuckles. “You’re not…Allergic to anything are you?”
“N…No.” Faith mumbles. “What did you make?”
“Oh honey,” Abby clasps her hands, “if I didn’t KNOW he loved me. I’d think he loved you.” She nods her head at the little island. Not really a kitchen table, he didn’t have room for a table. “It’ll be two minutes more.”
Dennis slides back into the kitchen and there’s a loud hiss from a pan. A dull ache shoots through Faith when the smell crawls across the room to bully her off the couch. Demands she get closer to find out what in the world smells so good.
“Honestly I’ve been needing to go food shopping for a bit, the fact you’re here and have paid this money is amazing.” He leans his head back, biting down on his lips. “I find it sort of hard to budget. We need special papers from the city I’ve apparently NOT been dead long enough or..” He makes a little noise.
“I see.” Faith doesn’t really care she just wants to know what smells good. She tries to crane her head this way and that but she can’t see around the bulk of his jacket. “So the jacket is-”
“I can take it off.” Dennis mumbles. “I’d just rather not unless I have to, absolutely have to.” He sighs. “You’re a witch. I’m sure you know basic poltergeist protocol.” He leans back. “As he removes something from the pan and places it on a plate. A knife flashes and he twirls around. Placing a plate covered in four symmetrical slices on it.
“I do. They are attached to a focus and are able to manipulate that focus, certain poltergeists enjoy more freedom than most.” Faith watches as Dennis holds up a sieve, sliding from left to right and back again. Slices of crispy bread, white cream and flakes of red poking between the slices. “What is this?”
“Strawberry cheesecake French toast.” Dennis trills. “Cream, strawberries, beat them in a bowl, between some bread and then you hit it with the old cinnamon mixture.” He sighs softly. “Call me a romantic, Faith but French toast is easily the best thing the American’s ever whipped up.”
Abby points at it. “If you try these you might agree with him.” Abby’s form slides over Dennis’ own and his upper body is smothered in an ectoplasmic sheen. She takes the wheel and grins. “You get two and we get two. We’re being fair here. More than you deserve, we should get three.”
“You…Eat like this?” Faith looks at her. “I mean as a ghost.”
“Yeah Dennis lets me use him for snacks. It’s real lush.” Abby goes on taking a slice and biting down, the crunch makes Faith tense up. She’s so hungry, she can’t remember the last time she ate something that didn’t come out of a vending machine or was wrapped in plastic. She reaches forward and takes a slice. She bites down.
The crunch spelled her doom, the flood of sweet flavors that rushed in sealed the deal. She was glad the glasses she wore masked the way her eyes flutter shut. She tries to have a moment of dignity but Abby with one finger turns the place so that they both have a new slice facing them.
Faith doesn’t slow down, the only real magic was how quickly she made the first sliver of heaven between bread disappear. She was onto the next within a moment. No dignity, no quiet witchy grace. She was fucking starving and she didn’t care who knew.
“You two eat like this all the time?”
“He loves to cook for people.” Abby tells her as she watches the witch lean on the table, savouring each bite like she was falling head over heels in love. Yet at the same time her boyfriend was getting eaten bit by bit, I think they call that a tragic romance.
Or Hannigram?
“Poltergeists focus’ are designed to allow them to manipulate their environment and survive. It’s a genus of ghosts, I suppose,” Faith goes on as Abby eats. “In some circles they are called knocking ghosts thanks to their reputation of being disruptive in their desire to be seen and heard. Your focus is-”
“Vintage,” Abby slides her thumbs across the jacket’s collar and it spikes up at her will, “at the same time as you no doubt…SAW when you tried to rip his soul out.” Abby bites down hard on the toast and the crunch has some steel to it. “Dennis is also…A focus.”
“A living being can’t be a focus.” Faith tells her flatly and Abby just stares at her. “That’s what I’ve heard but clearly…” She wants to avoid another vase to the face. Dennis is alive but he’s also not alive at all, stuck is he? She entertains a cruel theory, a horrid surmise.
Has this ghost wrapped his own spirit in his corpse? Are you haunting yourself dead-man?
Not her business is it?
“Well he’s fine and dandy.” Abby purrs and drums her fingers on his chest. Her form stopping just below the neck. Dark skin and ecto-green shine. “We’re both managing and even finding ways forward.”
“I thought that.” Faith goes on. “His soul has had…Mending done to it. How have you managed that?”
“I…Know a little magic.” Abby shrugs her shoulders. “I know enough about certain things to do stuff like that.” She goes on with a chuckle. Faith is pretty sure that’s a lie. There was a basic foundation in place, a solid form for a spirit to inhabit that was easily done. Consuming a soul wasn’t hard but something secured it. Old magic, powerful magic, a thing has done a mending here and not even the ghost knows about it. Does he?
“Well that’s impressive. Were you a witch in life?”
“HA.” Abby barks. “No, I ummm…A previous owner might have been a witch.” Abby goes on. “I was a lot less kind to them so a lot of what I know is second hand.” She exhales through her nose. “Trying to be better now but soul stuff always requires a little cost.” She looks at Faith. “Why are you using soul gunk though?”
“Pardon?” Faith pauses.
“Soul magic is super powerful but you’re a learned witch. You have rights and providers and I’m sure a patron or two.” She goes on and Faith actually has to give it to her. She knows the basics.
“I do have those things…” She leans on her fist. “The issue is that because I’m from…Not here.”
“Oh right,” Abby actually sits up and completes the thought for her, “your powers that be might not be aspected to this world.”
“My goodness you actually do know.” Faith smirks at her. “That sounded far more rude than intended.”
“No I mean look at me,” Abby gestures to herself, half here and half Dennis, “I don’t exactly look like I know what magic is.” There’s a faint sound as she lends to one side. Dark gunk slides between her and Dennis who is now free. “Turns out our witch is super drained.”
“Oh dear.” Dennis mumbles. “Are you okay, Faith?”
“It’s not a physical lack of anything.” She goes on. “He doesn’t know-”
“He does not.” Abby shakes her head. “He knows what I can tell him but he’s basically flying blind.”
“I read theory books on it at school sometimes and have been meaning to take basic incantations as an elective.” He chuckles softly. “Sorry if I drag you two down with my ignorance.”
“Most people don’t get magic, this isn’t an issue.” Faith goes on. “Basically witches get the big flashy parts of their powers from deals and bargains with powers that be. They have rules and rituals to ensure you can make use of these powers. Talismans to wear, rituals to perform.”
“Think of it like joining a frat for the soul.” Abby tells Dennis and he looks no less confused. “If you want in you gotta do what we tell you WHEN we tell you.”
“Ohhh,” Dennis nods, “so Faith’s not able to follow her rules?”
“I bet she can but it’s more like…Stop me if I get it wrong.” Abby looks at Faith who just slides a finger across the powdered sugar on the plate and pops it between her lips. “Her patron- frat- is a big deal where she comes from. Here it’s maybe not as big a deal all the time.”
“Oh.” Dennis leans on his fist. “That is a pain in the ass.” He sighs through his teeth. “Is there any way that we can help with that? Other ways to get magical juice.” He asks and Faith hides a chuckle. “Is magical juice not the right term?”
“It’s not.” Faith tells him. “Visiting sites of power might work. Focal lines, intersecting dimensional points…” She shrugs. “They’re likely the same in our universe and this one. They are just big soaking spots.”
“I thought it wasn’t juice…” Dennis mumbles.
“It’s a way to make magic sound pretty. She means that she’d just stand there and pull in magical stuff outta the air.” Abby waves her hand. “I bet you’ve got a whole fleet of rules too.” She points at Faith. “Or do you have less rules because you’re the opposite of The Coven.”
“Not the opposite.” Faith tells her. “Simply different in alignment.” Faith goes on.
“Right.” Dennis nods. “Sorry. It’s a big universe we shouldn’t judge.” He takes a breath. “Well it is Saturday. Besides grocery shopping I didn’t have plans. If you’d like, Faith. We could head out to one of these sites of power.”
“We?”
“I mean forgive me if I prod but you’re not in the best of health. Bloodied, battered and a little stitched up.”
“Concussion from a vase.” Faith points out and Dennis smirks, Abby gives her a look before sliding back into Dennis. “Sore spot?” A finger juts out of Dennis chest and he pushes it back in. Faith can’t quite keep the smirk off her face.
“Okay, let’s not. You attacked us and we attacked back.” Dennis tells her. “Now we’re going to get along and be room-mates.” Dennis holds up his phone. “WE should swap numbers and while we’re out we can see about getting you a set of keys.”
There’s a strange vibe to getting all of this. Faith isn’t sure it should be this easy, this quick. He shouldn’t be this welcoming. He shouldn’t make her brunch and give her back her cash. He shouldn’t offer to take her to sites of power but here he is. Doing all that and more.
“I’m not in the habit of needing to be babied.”
“Fantastic I’m not here to baby you.” Dennis tells her. “Unless you plan on breaking in everyday I’d want you to have a key. Unless you have somewhere safe to keep your cash I don’t want to hold onto it all for you. If you don’t have somewhere nice to sleep I insist you use my bed until we can afford you one.”
Dennis looks at the couch. “Maybe…we get one of those cool unfolding futons.”
“Nothing cool about futons.” Abby’s head juts out of his shoulder. “That said, way smarter than sleep floating.”
“Oh yeah, way smarter…” He rolls his shoulder.
“Did you float in the air to sleep last night?”
“Yeah that couch isn’t for sleeping on. It is…not long enough.” Dennis goes on, staring at it like the thing has attempted to kill him. “It does not conform to my shape.” Dennis goes on. “So yeah numbers and stuff, so we can be BESTIES.” He smirks at the word and Faith rolls her eyes.
“Fine.” The digits are swapped. “Would it be rude to ask to use the shower?”
“Of course not. Mi casa is your house.” He mangles it like an expert. “You hop in and I can use that time to grab my stuff and I’ll jump in one after.” He purses his lips. “I do apologise for the sheer number of hair products.”
He fluffs his hair. “This takes a lot of work and upkeep.”
Faith leans on her fist, her hair entirely independently floats through the air, leaving trails of magical vapour behind it. “Oh no, I wouldn’t know what a hair care regime is like.”
Dennis stares, his eyes alive. “I might…I might want some hints.” He manages to say. “That’s a whole look.”
“You want the whole evil goo thing?” Abby pokes out of his chest and looks up at him. He turns her to face Faith. “Okay I mean yes it’s amazing but I bet that’s hellish.”
“Not literally.” Faith stands up. “I will take you up on the offer. I’m not doing anything and…” She doesn’t really finish saying whatever she was going to say. She just vanishes into the bathroom. Dennis and Abby look at each other, Abby’s arms cross.
“Okay.” Dennis smiles softly. “What are your concerns?”
“She is literally from an evil universe.” Abby tells him. “You know I’ve seen nearly every episode of The Coven show.” Abby slides through him, one side of his body to the other. “She and her little gang were major threats.”
“Oh yeah?” Dennis asks as he makes his way to the sink. Dropping the plates in. “I believe you. I also feel like the fact of the matter is she needs help.”
“Yeah, getting home.” Abby tells him. “So we shouldn’t make her too comfy, she might be like a house-cat.” Abby rolls her shoulders. “Feed her once and you’re stuck with her forever.”
“Already much too late for that.” Dennis chuckles as he moves the other utensils to the sink. “She’s all alone Abby.”
“She sort of tried to kill you.” Abby points out and Dennis gives her a little look, his lips tight. “Okay fucking, yeah. I know.” She mumbles sinking into him slightly. He rests his hand on her cheek and she leans into it. “I just don’t…Want you to get fucked up.”
“I’m fine.” Dennis tells her. “We help people.” He snickers. “Besides you have a witch-craft buddy to talk to now. That’s good. You can tell her your ideas, I guess.”
“It might be helpful.” Abby looks up at him and rises, her arms sliding out his shoulders to drape around his neck. “Also this is…Gonna get in the way of our alone time?”
“WE do not have alone time.” He reminds her, resting his forehead against hers. “I’ve got you.” He tells her softly and she takes a breath.
“I’ve got you.” She returns and he presses his lips to her cheek lightly.”You sure you can do that with someone else here?”
“If she has a problem wit-”
“I don’t.” The voice cuts them off and they turn around. Him red in the face and Abby not able to look as embarrassed as she felt. “If you two have some kind of thing, that’s fine. I mean she already said,” Faith points at Abby, “that you love her and junk so.”
“What's up?” Dennis asks.
“...Ho…How do you use your shower?” She asks. “Is it the big thing at the back or the switch on the right?”
“The thing at the back goes all the way to the right, then adjust the little dial for temperature.” He stares. “I have no idea what the switch on the wall does. I think it turns off my neighbour’s lights.”
“Why?”
“This is a cheap apartment.” Dennis mumbles. “I bought it because the kitchen was really nice. There’s not much else here that’s worth investing in.”
“Uh huh.” Faith nods and slinks back into the bathroom. “Continue with your impassioned embrace.” She lets the door click closed. Abby flips her off, then with both hands, then she conjures about FIVE MORE for good measure. Dennis just rubs the back of her hands.
“It’s fine.”
“This is…A lot of things. I’m not sure it’s fine.” Abby tells him. She looks at Dennis and he has a small smile on his face, a soft thing without teeth or edges. He knows, he’s just already reached the point of extending a hand to help and he’s not going to draw it back now.
“She’s alone.” Dennis tells her. “We get that.”
Being alone was worse than being dead. That was Dennis’ outlook right there. He’d never toss someone into the dark if he could help it.
Abby musses with his hair and slides into him, down into the dark. She picks up her phone and sends a little message to the new room-mate. Nothing too inflammatory, nothing insane, just a little something.
Hello. This is Abby, we have separate phones. I’m going to be honest and admit I don’t super trust you, I barely actually trust you. But you are a witch and I have to know. My soul idea- it can work?
Faith finds the message when she gets out of the shower, body tender and sore in places. Wounds healing and little remedies failing to take in places. The first thing she wanted to do after a shower was have another one. One that lasts forever, the little comforts were amazing. The last shower she’d had was at an all night gym. It was not a comfortable shower. It was the kind of shower where nothing is homey or quiet or comfortable.
It was more like ripping at your skin to get clean and then running for somewhere dry. Not that she was shy about bathing with others, just that people tend to ask questions. Like why is your hair flailing around and spitting water at people? Her hair didn’t get along with everyone.
Not to mention she didn’t like people seeing the scars of war. A lifetime of fighting the forces of justice in a world where “evil” is law. It leaves a mark or three, deeper than flesh and bone. She wraps herself in the fluffy towel hanging over the radiator and moves to the mirror. She stares at her eyes, pure red lights in her pale face. Little fissures of white tell her she’s not had a good night's sleep in forever.
Even last night- in a proper bed- was a lot of rolling onto fresh wounds and waking up with a gutteral wince. She puts her glasses back on and takes a breath. Portals open, clothes come out. Something casual. Shirts, shorts and a hat. Nothing major, nothing that draws stares.
She finds her phone and the new message, sighing as she adds another name to the list. Dennis and Abby…Her room-mates for the time being. The idea to kill them had waned slightly. He was disarmingly nice, legitimately…Not to mention the food was nice. She couldn’t have made that…It’d be nice to have a need taken care of.
The nature of his soul though- that was…She casts her mind back to Hope, not just HER Hope but an assortment of them. There was a working there, a mending and its ripples had slid out across the vast forever of the universe. Soul magic was tricky, working with souls was all at once simple and utterly unfathomable.
Absorbing a soul was not hard. You could eat it, snort it, drink it or whatever you wanted. Most souls unless they were attached to a medium or focus just sort of existed in the interim. They didn’t DO anything for the most part. They just kept the lights on. But damage one? Break one or carve it up…That could have consequences. Some mystical beings could grow a new soul like a normal person grew hair. Others had to have a soul made for them. Others were never supposed to have a soul and if they had made one it was quite the act of universal heresy.
There is an order to things, there are beings which pass judgement on those who break rules written in the language of stars. Messing with souls was entirely safe until it became like jamming your face into a shark tank. Theoretically this wouldn’t kill you.
Logically it shouldn’t be attempted.
Can you give me- any form of detail beyond the loosest idea of what your idea is?
Faith is going to regret this but honestly…This is the work and she loves it. She’s always loved it. The universe has to be haruspexed on a table and its secrets exposed to her. There’s a great and secret show behind everything and ever since she saw her first spell cast.
Since that first night where reality blinked and a witch did not.
Faith Fernandez knew she wanted to know everything.
Especially the gory particulars.
Okay. I’ve practised writing this out a few times. Give me a second.