Chapter Text
Gwi-Ma’s claws had already begun to close when the light tore through the dark.
The underworld recoiled as if struck by lightning and shadows peeled back in violent ribbons. Heat and smoke churned around Baby, the pressure of Gwi-Ma’s grip crushing against his ribs as something sharp dug into his arm. The demon's laughter echoed everywhere at once, reverberating inside his skull rather than his ears.
Shit, he couldn’t breathe.
“Baby!”
Despite the hellish pounding in his head, her voice cut through the underworld like a blade—sharp, furious, and alive.
Zoey.
In an instant, she cut through the hellish claws that dug into him, and suddenly the pressure loosened. Gwi-Ma shrieked, the sound distorted and sinful, as violet light tore through his grasp. Baby barely had time to register the sudden freedom before Zoey was there, her hands gripping him and dragging him out of Gwi-Ma’s painful pull with a strength that didn’t make sense for someone so human.
But he supposed it made sense for someone like a hunter.
“I’ve got you!” She shouted, bracing herself against the cracked obsidian ground as she pulled with everything she had. “Don’t let go—don’t you dare give up!”
Baby’s fingers locked around her wrist reflexively, his grip weak but desperate. The underworld fought back violently, shadows lashing out like living things as if offended by the hunters' attempt to steal something it had already claimed.
“Zoey—” His voice came out hoarse, barely more than a rasp. “It’s—”
“Stop!” She snapped, jaw clenched as she drove one of her blades into the stone beside them, anchoring herself. “ I’m getting you out of here if it’s the last thing I do so just hold on!”
He could still hear the ongoing screams around them. The screams of the other two hunters as they barked orders at the remainder of the Saja Boys echoed across the bloodied battle ground. He saw as they tried their hardest to evade Gwi-Ma’s followers' attacks as Zoey tried her hardest to get him out. The sight alone was enough to tire him out.
Fuck, he really needed a nap after this.
Noticing Baby’s tiredness and Zoey’s depleting strength, Gwi-Ma lunged again. His claws slashed through the air in an effort to take them down, but Zoey moved fast—too fast—twisting her blades and sending a burst of energy straight through his fiery form. The demon king howled in pain as the honmoons glow tore through him.
“Zoey—hurry! The honmoons ripple is about to close!” Rumi’s voice rang out like a warning bell, sharp with urgency as a rainbow light pulsed strongly behind her. The ripple shuddered, its edges distorting, threatening to collapse on itself as the honmoons power tired out.
Zoey swore under her breath.
“I know!” She shouted back, muscles trembling as she dug her heels deeper into the ground. “I’m almost there!”
Unfortunately, almost wasn’t good enough.
Baby could feel it now—the pull of Gwi-Ma’s hold tightening again, like claws digging back into his spine, into his thoughts. His vision blurred at the edges, darkness creeping in like spilled ink, ready to paint everything into a sickening black. Every one of his breaths felt thinner than the last.
“Hey,” Zoey snapped, squeezing his wrist hard enough to hurt. “Look at me.”
He forced his eyes open.
Her face was set in fierce concentration, her jaw clenched, eyes glowing faintly with honmoon energy as she fought both Gwi-Ma and the underworld itself just to grant him freedom. There was blood smeared across her cheek—someone else’s he hoped.
“You’re not allowed to pass out,” She stated sharply. “Not yet.”
He huffed weakly. “Bossy…”
“Damn right,” She shot back. “Now fight.”
He tried.
Hot pain flared through his arm, down his ribs, and everywhere where Gwi-Ma had touched him. His grip faltered, fingers slipping for half a terrifying second.
Zoey’s breath hitched.
“No—no, no,” She growled, tightening her hold. “I said don’t give up!”
Gwi-ma roared, enraged at the audacity that the hunters seemed to have, trying to take everything away from him, including the demon that once served him. The ground shook beneath them at his cry. The demon king then surged forward once more, shadows coiling around his form as he raised his claw for another strike.
Zoey turned just in time and didn’t hesitate.
With a sharp cry, she wrenched the blade free from the stone and hurled it straight through the center of Gwi-Ma’s form. The honmoon embedded itself deep, iridescent light erupting violently as the demon king screamed in pain.
The ripple flared blindingly bright.
“Now!” Rumi yelled.
Zoey didn’t wait.
She yanked Baby forward with every inch of strength that she had left, throwing herself backward toward the ripple. The force was sudden and overwhelming—the world snapped wildly out of place as the underworld screamed its fury behind them.
Baby felt the pressure slam into his chest.
Then nothing.
—
They hit the human realm hard.
Baby barely registered the impact before pain tore through him, knocking the breath completely out of his lungs. Funny, since when did demons even need to breathe? He collapsed against Zoey, limbs tangled, the ground cold and solid beneath them.
His chest burned.
Shit—he really couldn’t breathe.
Air refused to come, his lungs seizing as if they’d forgotten how. But after all those years of not using them, who could really blame them? His body shook violently, breathing hitching in broken, useless gasps.
Zoey was there instantly.
She scrambled to her knees, dragging him with her, one arm hooked firmly around his shoulders as she pulled his head against her chest. Her hand fisted in his hair, grounding, and real.
“Hey—hey, breathe,” She murmured urgently, pressing her forehead to his. “You’re out. You’re here. I’ve got you.”
Her other hand pressed hard against his side.
Immediately, pain overtook his entire body.
Baby let out a strangled sound, his body jerking as blood soaked rapidly through his torn robes, warm and disgustingly slick.
“Shit,” Zoey whispered, panic flashing across her face. “Okay—okay, stay with me.”
Her heartbeat thundered against his ear, fast and strong, and yet so gentle. He focused on it desperately, anchoring himself to its rhythm as his lungs finally managed to drag in a shaky breath.
Then, miraculously, he took another.
The shaking didn’t stop.
Around them, the sounds of battle faded as the ripple sealed shut with one final blast of light. Rumi shouted out a panicked, “Is everyone ok!?” before making sure none of her sisters, nor the Saja Boys were injured. That’s when her worried gaze landed on Baby.
He didn’t process what happened after that. It all felt distant—muffled, unreal.
Zoey didn’t move.
She stayed exactly where she was, cradling him like she could physically put him back together should he break apart, and as Rumi carefully inspected the seriousness of his wounds she quickly called over Celine.
Celine swore the moment she saw him.
“Get him flat. Now.”
Hands replaced Zoey’s reluctantly. She protested instantly, tightening her grip when she tried to pull him away from her but one scolding look from Celine quickly made her oblige.
“Hey—hey,” Zoey said worriedly as she took him from her hold. “Be careful!”
“I am being careful,” Celine shot back, already ripping open a medkit. “He’s bleeding internally and externally, Zoey. Just let me do what I have to.”
Zoey’s jaw clenched, but she eased just enough for Celine to lay Baby against the ground, his head on Zoey’s lap. Zoey carefully laced her fingers into his scalp, brushing the knots out of his hair as Celine prepared.
Baby blinked up at the sky.
It was…blue.
God, he hated how slow he was right now.
“Still with us?” Celine asked sharply, snapping on gloves.
“Unfortunately,” he muttered.
Zoey let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a sob. “Don’t joke like that.”
“Wasn’t joking,” he said weakly. “It was a complaint. The floor’s uncomfortable as shit.”
As he joked, Celine pressed hard against his side and Baby hissed, his body tensing involuntarily.
“Hey—!” Zoey yelled as she tried her best to comfort him, running her hands through his hair.
“I’m sorry, I have to.” Celine said without looking up. “Or he bleeds out.”
Baby forced himself to relax, even as the pain screamed through him. “It’s fine—I’ll be fine.”
Zoey looked down at him, her gaze painfully tender. “You don’t have to be.”
He frowned slightly, confused. “Why not?”
Zoey didn’t answer right away.
Her fingers slowed in his hair, the motion gentler now, almost reverent, like she was afraid he might shatter beneath her touch. For a second, she just stared down at him and really looked, then something unreadable flickered across her face.
“Because,” she said quietly, “you don’t have to pretend you’re indestructible all the time.”
Baby scoffed weakly. “I’m not pretending.”
Celine snorted from where she was working. “Tell that to the person who’s currently patching you up.”
Baby shot her a look.
Celine ignored him as she tightened the bandage around his ribs.
Zoey snorted at the display. “She’s not wrong. You’re holding yourself together with stubbornness and spite.”
“That’s rude.” Baby muttered.
“Nu-uh.” Zoey declined. “It’s accurate.”
Baby huffed despite himself, though the sound trembled. “Whatever…”
He shifted slightly, trying to make himself more comfortable on the cold ground but immediately regretted even trying as pain flared through his side again. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, jaw tightening.
Zoey noticed instantly.
“Don’t move,” she said, her voice firm but gentle, hands steading him. “Please.”
The word please hit him harder than any of the pain.
And oh.
He’s not quite sure in what area that word didn’t go to.
“I’m fine,” he repeated, more insistent this time, trying his best to swallow down whatever the hell he felt from her saying that word alone. “I’ve had worse. This is nothing.”
Zoey’s brows knit together. “You almost died.”
He shrugged weakly. “That happens sometimes.”
“Baby.”
Something in her tone—low, warning, hurt—made him look at her in the eye.
She wasn’t angry.
That was somehow worse.
Her expression was tight with concern, brows drawn together, mouth pressed thin like she was holding back a hundred questions she didn’t want the answers to. Her hand was still in his hair, fingers warm against his scalp, steadying in a way that made his chest feel uncomfortably full.
“You scared me,” she said quietly.
Not accusing. Not sharp. Just honest.
Baby swallowed. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to.”
Zoey, shocked by his apology, stared for a good long while before smiling. “I know,” she replied. “I just thought you'd given up.”
Celine cleared her throat, snapping the last of the bandages into place. “He’s stable. He just needs observation and about six different things he’s definitely not going to agree to.”
“I heard that,” Baby said under his breath.
“You were supposed to.” Celine said dryly. “Now, don’t move too much. Don’t fight anyone. And if you do fight anyone, make sure it’s not Abby. He’s pretty beat up as it is.”
“Wow,” he said. “No promises.”
Zoey huffed softly—a fragment of a laugh that didn’t quite make it all the way out. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Celine stood, packing her supplies and cleaning herself up. “Good. We’ll be heading back toward the penthouse after I get a good look at everyone else.” She then stopped and hesitated, glancing at Baby. “He’s lucky.”
Baby snorted. “That’s debatable.”
Celine just gave him a look then walked off.
The quiet that followed was gentler than before. No tension. No edge. No more demon king. Just the distant hum of activity and Zoey’s presence right there with him, solid and warm.
She brushed her thumb against his temple absently. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes,” he said honestly.
Zoey winced, noticing how insensitive and obvious the question seemed. “I’m sorry.”
“You apologize a lot.” He said as he stared at her.
Zoey blinked, then huffed quietly. “That happens sometimes.”
As she echoed his exact words, his gaze shifted to the smear of blood that still smeared her cheek. It stood out sharply against her pale skin, the blood now dark and dry. His brain latched onto it with the kind of focus that came from trying very hard not to think about other things.
Like how pretty she looked even as blood coated her skin.
“You missed a spot,” he muttered to her.
She frowned, confused. “What?”
“Your face,” he said, lifting a finger weakly in its direction before letting it fall back to his chest. “There’s blood.”
Zoey froze for half a second, then reached up and wiped at her cheek. When she looked at her fingers and saw red, crusty fragments of what was once blood, her shoulders sagged in visible relief.
“Oh,” she breathed. “It’s not mine.”
“Good,” he said immediately. “You shouldn’t bleed.”
She looked down at him again, something unreadable softening in her eyes. “You’re bleeding.”
“Yeah, but that’s sort of my thing.”
“That is not your thing,” she said, exasperation threading gently through her worry.
He shrugged as much as his body would allow. Which was… not much. Pain flared in response, sharp enough to make his vision blur for a second.
Zoey—of course—noticed instantly.
“Hey,” she said, leaning closer. “Easy, don’t overexert yourself.”
He exhaled slowly. “You keep telling me not to do things.”
“And yet you keep doing them,” she said. “Almost like you don’t listen.”
He cracked a faint smile. “Selective hearing. I’ll listen when I want to.”
She shook her head, her thumb resuming its slow, grounding motion against his temple, brushing hair away from his face. The repetition was soothing in a way that made his thoughts feel floaty and loose around the edges.
This was dangerous territory.
Did he ever notice just how beautiful she was?
Yeah—no.
He stared up at the sky to avoid thinking about that.
Still blue.
Still slow.
“Are you dizzy?” Zoey asked quietly, trying her best not to disturb… whatever was going on in his head at the moment.
“Only in the charming, near-death sort of way,” he replied.
She sighed, pressing her lips together. “I’m serious.”
He considered her question for a moment. “Maybe a little.”
Her hand stilled. “How much is ‘a little’?”
He hesitated. “...Enough that if I stand up, I’ll probably be sent directly back to Gwi-Ma himself.”
“Good,” she said firmly. “Then you’re not standing up.”
“Authoritarian,” he muttered under his breath.
“It’s called being concerned,” she corrected. “And besides, it’s not like you’d be able to move anyway.”
Silence settled again, but it wasn’t heavy. Just full. The kind that hummed softly instead of pressing down.
Baby’s thoughts began to drift.
Okay. Hypothetically. If one were lying injured on the cold ground, head in a very competent and very pretty hunter’s lap, and that hunter was looking at them like that—
Nope.
Hell no.
Abort.
He’s not Jinu. Who fell in love with a hunter despite being a demon.
And he’s definitely not Abby and Romance. Who are currently chasing after one.
Yeah, no.
He redirected immediately.
He focused instead on counting things.
One: the faint squeak in Zoey’s voice that only showed up when she was tired or scared.
Two: the way her grip tightened on his form every time his breathing hitched even slightly, like she was afraid it’d be his last.
Three: the fact that he could possibly get used to her pampering him and that was a problem.
“You’re doing it again.” She said.
He stiffened. “Doing what?”
“Going into your own world,” she replied. “I never have any idea what’s going through your head.”
His jaw tightened, just a fraction. “Maybe it’s better that way.”
“I hope to know someday.” She said gently.
He swallowed, caught off guard by her honesty.
Her hand slid from his hair to his cheek, warm and tender. “Just… stay with me for a bit longer, okay? Before you decide to run off after you’re healed.”
Something in her voice made his chest ache.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I can do that.”
Good.
Excellent.
Good job, Baby. Getting manipulated by a hunter so easily.
That’s totally fine.
In embarrassment, he let his eyes close halfway, not sleeping, just resting. Definitely resting. Completely different.
His brain unfortunately did not get the memo.
What was supposed to be an escape, eventually turned into his own personal nap time.
Okay, his brain said helpfully. If you die now, this would be an extremely awkward end to the conversation.
Shut up.
Also, his brain continued, she would absolutely blame herself.
Yeah, ok—no.
He opened his eyes again immediately.
Zoey noticed, of course.
“Hey,” she said softly. “You alright? I thought you were falling asleep.”
“Yep,” he replied. “Still alive and kicking.”
She smiled faintly. “Good.”
He watched her for a moment, the worry still clung to her even as she tried her best to mask it, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. She was holding herself together the same way he did—through sheer will and refusal to let go.
Funny how he’d never noticed that before… how similar they were.
Crap, exhaustion caught up to him.
“Zoey?” He whispered.
“Yes?”
“If I pass out,” he said. “It’s not because I’m giving up.”
Her throat bobbed. “I know.”
“It’s just—” He paused, searching for the right words, but then deemed it too much work and shrugged. “I’m really tired.”
Her hand squeezed his gently. “Then rest, I’m right here.”
That sentence lodged itself deep into his chest.
This is fine. He told himself for the tenth time. Normal. Entirely normal.
As his eyes drifted closed again, the tender feeling of Zoey’s fingers massaging his scalp returned. His last coherent thought was that if he did die, at least it would be in the lap of the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid his eyes upon.
One that just so happened to be a hunter and his used-to-be enemy.
And happened to inconveniently be very warm.
Yeah.
He could stay like this a little longer.