Chapter Text
Abaddon opens his eyes in a sweat, uneasiness tracing his throat. As he shifts to reposition himself, he slams his head against the metal above, causing a loud clang. With a groan, he carefully settles into a crouched sit, trying to call back his focus.
How had he gotten here? It unsettles him to think he may have fallen asleep; something he’d believed impossible. He is Abaddon, a demon from hell; he does not sleep. Yet the way his hands rub at his hazy vision and the sluggishness of his thoughts say otherwise. This is the second time he’s closed his eyes, forced to rest by some unknown force.
He shakes his head, letting the darkness of the vents clear his mind. The last thing he remembers is pillaging the freezer. He doesn’t recall why he’d been so desperate to empty the cold drawer, but he does, somewhat, remember the drowsiness that followed.
Abaddon concludes that whatever is happening to him can’t be a fluke, and that it's best to bring this to another who can read (preferably Esther). He gets into a crawling position, but it’s more difficult than he remembers; his knees push him awkwardly against the wall. He grumbles in exasperation, problems accumulating too quickly for him to sift through.
When he finally escapes the tangled mess, he begins traveling toward his usual exit. His face is drawn in pure irritation, unable to fathom why he feels so uncomfortable. The light of a grate ahead reveals the entryway hall far below. He chooses to pass over it, preferring not to fall from such a height.
Unfortunately, the choice isn’t his. The pressure from his hands pops the weak metal off its hinges, sending him plummeting to the ground below, and he hits the ground with a disgruntled oomph.
The brightness makes his eyes sore, and he blinks in agitation. Sick of his vision failing, the heat of anger burns in his chest. He waves it away, dusting himself off as a distraction.
The moment he can clearly see, a series of revelations rapidly comes to his attention as he gathers his bearings.
First, his hair easily covers the front of his eyes like a curtain, making him shuffle back in shock, only to find a wall. Second is the tightness in his shoes and clothing; the aged cloth creaks with every movement, and his ankles ache.
Fear begins to rattle his core, his breath becoming a quiver as he inspects himself. He has lived millennia without a single variation to his vessel since he was first bound.
These changes, all happening in the course of two days, make the demon ill with anxiety.
“You good, Abaddon?” Katherine’s voice brings the swirling thoughts to a shuddering stop. The demon looks to the woman, fighting the urge to panic in front of her. With effort, he bites his lip and pushes off the wall into a full stand, hoping his posture will testify to his well-being. It doesn’t work; the difference in his height immediately catches Katherine off guard.
“Did you gain a couple of inches?” she asks as she approaches, calculating what trouble Abaddon likely got himself into.
“I am unsure what is happening, Matriarch, but it seems this vessel is going rogue,” Abaddon says, a bothered frown adorning his face. He nearly looks like the lost child he replaced, and it pulls at Katherine’s heartstrings. She kneels, inspecting the demon and the noticeable changes.
“You’re definitely taller, and your hair seems to be growing out as well,” she says, confirming Abaddon’s stressors aloud. She gently tucks the lengthened bangs behind his ear, restoring his sight. The demon stands unmoving, unsure of what to feel or do, watching Katherine’s every move. He trusts this woman, even if she can be disagreeable at times. He hates to admit it, but he has no clue what to do in this situation. Help may be required.
“Hmm, I’m not the person to go to about this stuff, but maybe I should keep an eye on you till Esther returns. Do you know what could make this happen? Because I’m pretty sure you told me you don’t age, but it looks an awful lot like you did,” she says, raising an eyebrow in proper suspicion.
Abaddon bares his teeth, folding his arms and looking away. “I already admitted to not knowing what is going on, foul woman, is that not enough for you?” he huffs, then pauses to consider her words. “Return? Is Esther no longer home?” He looks back, confused.
Katherine’s face creases with worry. “You missed breakfast hiding in the vents. I even called for you, but you didn’t respond. We just assumed you were busy. Did anything happen in the vents?” she asks, less skeptical now, more concerned. Her eyes scan him again, checking for injuries like the ones he’d gathered fighting the bear.
Her pity scrapes at Abaddon’s skin, and he pushes her searching hands away. “I do not need your pity; I am unharmed. I simply fell victim to slumber once more, but it shall not overtake me again,” he says with feigned confidence, walking past Katherine toward the stairs.
“Oh, there you two are!” Nathan walks through the stairwell, a bright smile painting his mustache. “I’ve been looking for you since the kids, huh.” The ghost interrupts himself, inspecting Abaddon. He looks past him to Katherine. “Does he look taller, or is it just me?”
“He’s definitely taller. I’m trying to get him to stay still till Esther shows up,” Katherine says, getting up from her knee with a grunt. “But he’s being stubborn as usual.” She sighs, placing a hand over her eyes at the sound of the front door ringing. “Nathan, I need you to keep an eye on him for a moment, alright?”
The redheaded woman swiftly switches into hostess mode, welcoming the guest with synthetic enthusiasm. Nathan glances at Abaddon, ushering him toward the living room. The ghost and demon separate themselves from Katherine’s business.
The room is dark and comfortable, and any tension Abaddon previously felt slowly melts away, until Nathan brings it up again.
“Want to explain what’s been going on, bud?” Nathan asks, sitting on the long, cushioned couch and inviting the demon to join him. Abaddon hops on begrudgingly, noting how it’s easier now, facing the phantom. His face is neutral, but a clutter of information and alarms churn behind his eyes.
“I’ve already confessed to the matriarch that I detain no such information. I’m only aware of the burning hunger and strange spurts of growth,” Abaddon deadpans, silently flustered by Nathan’s prodding. The memory of the strange, empty feeling in his gut makes his eye twitch, and he clutches his shirt from the phantom pain.
“Hey, I’m not upset, buddy, just wondering.” Nathan lifts his hands defensively. “Would you be willing to stick around with me and Kathy till we can figure something out?” he asks, an enticing smile on his face, the wrinkles beside his eyes making it warm.
“I suppose,” Abaddon surrenders, arms folded once more.
The two spend a moment of quiet togetherness, staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace. Neither speaks, unsure how to resume the dialogue. Before Abaddon can speak again, the foreboding feeling from before spiderwebs through his nervous system, gagging him. So far, it had only led him to dissociate or experience some sort of pain, even a lack of control.
“We actually got a guest, so that’s promising. Nathan, did you convince Abaddon to stay?” Katherine calls, wrapping around the couch and spotting the top of Nathan’s head from the foyer.
“Yeah, I– ” The sight of Abaddon startles both adults. His complexion is pale, his fingers locked in a vice grip. A bead of sweat rolls down his cheek, denoting an inner battle neither of them can see.
“Abaddon, earth to Abaddon.” Nathan’s barely luminous hands wave in front of the boy’s eyes. A reaction comes when he blinks in confusion, only to grab his chest in obvious pain. He pulls his knees to his chest, teeth bared as he clenches his eyes shut. A shift transpires –obscure, but palpable– and just as Katherine is about to run to his aid, the pain fades.
“What was that, Abaddon?!” Katherine barks, bent over the demon in alarm. His red eyes meet her brown ones. The shock from the hurt sizzles away, visibly replaced by a growing anger.
“I have said time and time again, I do not know!” Abaddon growls, traces of a snarl marking his face. His eyes flash brilliant red, showcasing the bubbling rage. Usually, such a display would merely bother Katherine, but something is different this time, and it sends shivers down her spine.
The stunned faces of Katherine and Nathan pull him away from the anger, and all that’s left is puzzling fear. He refreshes, keeping his cool this time. “I’m not sure what is amiss, but I am sure that it must be bad if it is affecting me so… I apologize for my rudeness.” He ends uncertainly, glancing at his hands once more.
Katherine rests a hand on his shoulder, catching him by surprise, and their eyes meet again. “I forgive you. The best we can do now is wait for Esther and Ben to get back. In the meantime, are you willing to stick around me so I can make sure you don’t get worse?”
Her voice is softer than usual, like when she talks to Esther or Ben on their rougher days. It’s not the same as pity, and it oddly comforts Abaddon. He accepts, giving Katherine a nod.
She holds out a hand for him to take, and he takes it at once. For Abaddon, he sees it as their alliance strengthening, and the thought makes him smile.
As they head for the kitchen, Abaddon can't help but limp ever so slightly. The edges of his shoes are digging deep into the skin of his heels, but he doesn't say anything, even as the warmth of blood quickly seeps into his socks.