Chapter Text
“Touching another’s daemon is the highest of sacrilege; historically, next to the likes of murder and rape on the scale of human taboo. We cringe from this display of vulgarity, desperate to separate ourselves from the inherent vulnerability present in the faltering of one’s own padded cage—if we do not allow such touch, then we are above the emotions it elicits, and therefore are free of the pain and discomfort that are ever companions to love. Thus, I draw my connection to Julia Kristeva and the abject horror: we are nothing more than a breathing body disturbed by the presence of a breathless one, desperate to distance ourselves as quickly as possible for fear of catching. However, if this inherent disgust were truly that (inherent), then children would not crawl on the backs of their parents' daemons without fear, and lovers would not run their hands through the fur, feathers, and scales of their partner’s soul. To ignore this, as so many scholars do, is an injustice greater still.”
-Augustine, 1989, The Misunderstandings of Daemon-Touch and the Love That Lies Ignored
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One more thing, the text read, what’s your daemon?
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The rumors started long before Jean agreed to join the Trojans. It was idle chatter around the Edgar Allan campus. A few online forum discussions. The odd remark from a reporter. Conspiracy theories thrown around locker rooms before a team was set to face off against the Ravens and the object of their curiosity. Even Cat wasn’t safe from this, and Jeremy sometimes found her scouring the internet for clues.
“It’s just weird,” She had said. Months before their match against the Foxes. Months before Kevin would suggest something crazy. “The only daemon listed is Riko’s. Every other D1 team lists the athletes' daemons on their profiles.”
Jeremy leaned over her shoulder to look at the laptop she hunched over. She had the Edgar Allan Ravens web page open. Riko, naturally, was the first photo on display. The picture showed a grinning Riko, racket over one shoulder and his thick-billed raven daemon on the other. Under the picture listed a short bio including his daemon’s name, Chikara. Kevin’s picture used to be next. Besides the lack of smile and his racket in his left hand, the photos were identical. His pied raven, Saoirse, perched proudly on his shoulder, beak opened wide as if shouting at the camera. Now that Kevin was gone, Jean Moreau was next. No daemon or bio accompanied the backliner and the same was true of every Raven that came after him.
“Privacy?” Jeremy said.
Cat shot him a look.
Okay, sure, it was unusual for someone to want to keep their daemon a secret. That on top of everything else strange about the Ravens... well. But Jeremy refused to believe Cat’s cult theory and he wasn’t about to start now.
“But what’s the point?” Cat continued. “Their daemons have to be at their games anyway. It’s not like they can keep it a secret.”
They both knew that wasn’t true. Cat had gone on similar rants before, that being that every single Raven daemon had been spotted at some point or another. All except one.
“Look,” Jeremy said, skipping right to her inevitable point. “His daemon is probably super small.”
Cat spun her head around to face him. “Can’t you ask Kevin?”
“Cat.”
“Please?”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“How are you not dying of curiosity? He’s French and a complete mystery.”
“Because I’m not insane,” Jeremy said. Cat mumbled something Jeremy chose to ignore.
As Jeremy made coffee in the kitchen, he wondered if Jean had an insect daemon.
The rumors became a living thing when Riko died.
Reports came from the other athletes in Fox Tower, unanimous and clear: an unconscious Jean Moreau was seen carried out by security, bloody, with lacerations covering his arms and torso. Behind him more security rolled a covered cart large enough for a couch or fridge. Presumably carrying his daemon.
The real leak came two days after. A security guard told someone who told someone who told the media that allegedly, Jean was found in the wrecked dorm of Kevin Day. Specifically found locked in the bathroom. One quote circulated like fire across news cites and gossip columns: “We had to tranquilize his daemon. She was trying to kill him.”
“Say the word,” Jeremy said. “Say the word and I’ll figure something else out.”
Laila stood leaning against the kitchen island, phone open in one hand and attention focused on the latest article. “We already forged his signature.”
“That does not matter right now,” Jeremy said.
“It kind of does.” Laila slapped her phone closed.
“Not if he’s a danger to you both.”
“Do you think that? That he’s danger? He’s joining our team. He’s going to be around us either way.”
Jeremy didn't know what to say.
“They’re just rumors,” Cat chimed in. “Palmetto denied the claims.”
“They denied to comment on the ‘validity’ of the claims,” Laila said, shaking her phone. “The other articles neglected that part.”
They fell into tense silence. The humming of the fridge and Jeremy flicking his nails together the only sounds alive in the small space. The last text he sent Jean had been weeks ago, and it was an inquiry about his daemon. It was technically considered bad manners to ask, but Jean hadn’t brought it up himself and Jeremy needed to know which car to bring to the airport. It went unanswered.
The last text from Kevin simply read, He’s not a threat to you or your team, and neither is she.
Jeremy had found the wording to be suspiciously specific, but he resolved to not reply until he talked to the girls.
“What matters is how you both feel,” Jeremy settled on.
Marwan rubbed against Laila’s legs. Her eyes dropped to him and they had a brief exchange before she said, “I want to meet him.” She looked at Cat.
“Me too,” Cat said, and added before Jeremy could get a word in, “We can take care of ourselves.”
Jeremy let out a breath, but couldn’t decide if he was relieved or terrified. Every minute that had gone by since Kevin’s hushed words months ago felt like the slow walk to a cliff’s edge on a windy day. There would be no coming back from this, and at a certain point, Jeremy wasn’t sure he’d have control over the outcome.
“You just want to see his daemon before the others get to.”
Cat smiled. “Maybe.”
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“For the developed country, large daemons have become a thing of the past. For centuries we have seen a steady decline as society stepped away from manual labor and lost the need for a hunting companion or an ox’s strength on the fields. And as cities reached new and new height of capacity and space became scarce, large daemons quickly turned unrealistic. Now, it is uncommon to see a daemon larger than a suitcase walk the streets of Manhattan or Chicago. And if you do, it is more likely the result of a very unhappy childhood.
-Amelia K. Carson, 1996, The New York Times
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Jeremy noticed the scattered gasps amongst those standing with him in LAX before he noticed Jean Moreau himself.
Moments before, his yo-yo string tangled in his headphones' cord so terribly it began to resemble one entity. He had sighed, only a little dramatically, and would have set out undoing the mass if it wasn’t for the startled oh that came from Nydia and the even more startled, “Oh my god,” whispered by the woman to his left, followed by a sharp hiss and puffed hackles from the daemon perched on her shoulder. Jeremy crumpled the mess of string and cord to deal with later.
The cause of the disturbance wasn’t hard to find. Jeremy’s eyes landed on the daemon first. Large—very large, and black with barely visible golden-brown rings patterned in the fur. She had a hunched frame, a tail so stiff he doubted even a breeze could move a single hair out of its marble formation, and yellow, unblinking eyes.
Jeremy’s attention shifted to the man standing next to her. Jean stood stiff, one hand clenched in a fist and eyes shockingly similar to his daemon’s if not for the contrasting colors. It was startling to see the man in person, and Jeremy fought back the desire to take a steadying breath.
Holy shit, Nydia said, at the same time Jeremy lifted his free hand in a wave.
They met halfway.
“Hello, hello,” Jeremy said, trying his best at casual. “How was the flight?”
“Small talk is a pointless indulgence.” Was Jean’s response. It was such an odd thing to say, coupled with hearing Jean’s accent and the adrenaline still cursing through his body from the surprise, and Jeremy almost laughed.
Instead, he smiled. “I like to indulge.”
Nydia huffed, causing Jean to look down at her for the first time.
“Oh, right,” Jeremy said. “Manners and all. This is Nydia.” Jeremy’s hand came up to rest between her pointed ears. “Dark fawn Belgium Malinois,” He said with all pride dressed in bikini modesty—but Nydia was beautiful, and Jeremy never wasted an opportunity to compliment her.
Nydia inclined her head to Jean, who averted his eyes in favor of staring in the vague direction of “away”. Whatever Jeremy expected Jean to say next, it wasn’t what came out of his mouth.
“I know,” Jean said. “Military dog.”
Jeremy couldn’t tell if he was smiling anymore.
Asshole, Nydia said.
Nydia, Jeremy bit back just as quickly. The interaction didn’t go unnoticed, as Jeremy found Jean’s eyes back on him.
“Kevin,” Jean said. When it was clear Jeremy wasn’t following, Jean added, “He warned me.”
Jeremy took the strange choice of words and the fact that Kevin had described Nydia as a “military dog” and treated it like his yo-yo mess. “No worries.”
The stares and whispers of the people around them reminded Jeremy of the other daemon in his presence. He was shocked she had slipped his mind considering her stature, but a few things cataloged in his brain all at once: she hung back a few feet, farther away than most daemons would choose to be from their person, especially considering the new environment and long flight; her stillness and hunched shoulders made her appear much smaller than she actually was, and there was something almost absent about her, like she wasn’t present in the same way everyone else was. She wasn’t looking at Jeremy anymore. In fact it didn’t seem like she was looking at anything at all.
Jean made no move to introduce her, but Jeremy thought he might feel awkward doing so with everyone’s attention on them.
“Well, baggage claim is this way,” Jeremy said.
He should have known things weren’t going to get less strange.
Aside from the lack of any baggage to claim, the walk to Jeremy’s car was marginally better, even with plenty of people still stopping or stuttering in their steps to gawk. Jeremy understood—he really did. The permanent shape a daemon took was influenced by hundreds of factors, personality being a chief reason, but environment was of even greater importance. Jeremy didn’t remember specifics from the required daemonology course he took freshman year of high school, only bits and pieces from his final presentation on why so few people had a worm for a daemon and how Nydia had taken the shape as demonstration. She was one of only three daemons in his year that hadn’t taken permanent form yet. A late bloomer.
To have a daemon of this size, well, Jeremy wasn’t sure what to think.
Jean’s daemon hung back an abnormal distance, moving with a stilted gait so unlike Jean’s rim rod straight one. She bothered Jeremy in a way he couldn’t quite describe. He wanted to ask Nydia if she had said anything to her, but it was unusual for daemons to speak to one another before being introduced by their person. He didn’t want to be rude, and Jean would most likely introduce her once they were settled in the truck.
He checked his phone to find a text from Cat in their group chat with Laila that simply read, well??
Jeremy knew she wanted a detailed description of the animal behind him, but he honestly wasn’t even sure what she was. Cat's old gossip forums popped into his head then, and how most people assumed Jean’s daemon must be small to go unnoticed all this time.
Jeremy glanced at the giant cat and felt dizzy. Her head would easily come up to Jean’s waist if she lifted it, and the man wasn’t short by a long shot. None of this made any sense.
“So,” Jeremy said as they continued their walk up the parking garage. “I have to admit I don’t know a lot about felines. Is she a black panther or…” Jeremy trailed off. He didn’t know many large black cat breeds.
Jean remained silent for a long moment, and Jeremy wondered if this was about to get even more awkward when he finally said, “Panthers are not a species, they are just black leopards or jaguars.”
“So she’s a leopard?” Jeremy said.
“Jaguar.”
“Ah,” was all Jeremy said. When the silence felt awkward again, he added “But still a panther, right? Because of her color?”
Jean didn’t dignify that with a response.
Jeremy quickly sent a heads up: jaguar.
Cat’s response was so fast Jeremy had no time to put his phone away.
HUH???
“They are larger,” Jean said.
Jeremy put his phone away. “Hm?”
“Jaguars are larger.”
“Oh, I had no idea. You’re already teaching me things.”
Nydia sent him a look.
The truck finally came into view, and Jeremy felt a little relieved to have something to do. “Well I’m glad I brought the truck. You must have forgotten to respond when I asked about your daemon. Sorry to be so blunt, by the way, I just needed to know how much space you needed.” He rarely ever used this family car, having thought it looked too much like a hearse with monster truck wheels ever since he was a kid, but it was specifically designed to accommodate larger daemons like the one his father had. Nydia preferred curling up in the passenger seat of any car Jeremy drove, but the truck was a two seater apart from the daemon compartment, so she’d have to ride in the back with Jean’s jaguar. Jeremy clicked his keys and the back of the truck slowly lifted up, revealing a large, padded space. Nydia was the first to jump in, making herself comfortable on one side. Jeremy waited for Jean’s daemon to follow suit, but Jean went ahead and climbed into the passenger seat before she made a move. The jaguar hesitated a moment and flicked her tail once. Twice. Just as Jeremy thought he should say something, she leapt.
It was elegant and fast, and the truck gave under her weight before settling again. He was struck for the first time by the strength she must possess, and he wondered if that strength translated to the court.
No wonder he’s the best, Nydia said.
Keep it in your pants, Jeremy joked. Nydia huffed again as the back door closed.
Jeremy had planned on asking a few ice breaker questions on the ride to the house, but he found his thoughts had strayed in a million directions. They had already established that A) he wasn’t hungry, and B) all Ravens study business (That’s not hecked up, Nydia had commented from the back, that’s fucked up.) and of the questions Jeremy still had, few were pleasant. He felt the sudden need to quell the raging ones that upset his stomach.
“So,” Jeremy said, glancing in the rear view mirror at the stiffly curled up jaguar. “Looks like I won’t be the largest on the team anymore.”
He heard it as soon as it left his mouth, but Nydia still had the audacity to laugh. Out loud. It came out as a series of barks, and Jean threw a quick look at her, startled. His daemon remained unmoved.
“I mean daemon wise—obviously—I mean,” Jeremy corrected.
Oh god, Nydia wheezed, you’re making it worse.
Jeremy almost made another self-correction, but Jean beat him to it.
“Will that be a problem?” he asked. His eyebrows were drawn together. He looked far too serious for what the conversation warranted.
“No, no. It’ll be kinda nice actually,” Jeremy said. “There might be some things you have to get used to, our facilities aren’t as large as Edgar Allan’s—specifically the weight room…” he was talking more to himself now, realizing there might actually be a problem and trying to figure out a fix mid conversation. “We’ll talk to Coach Lisinski about it, I’m sure there’s an easy workaround.”
“Jackie Lisinski,” Jean said. “Fitness coach.”
Something about the way Jean said “Jackie”, had Jeremy perking up.
“Oui!” Jeremy said. “That’s actually the only French I know, I think. Want to teach me any?”
The next few things happened in quick succession. Jean all but yelled “no” into the small space, causing Nydia to flinch. Jeremy glanced at him, only to find an indescribable, yet far too distant, expression on his face. Jeremy reached out, intending to—well he wasn’t entirely sure—but as soon as his hand touched Jean shoulder Jean reacted with a painful shove. Jeremy’s shoulder smacked into the side of the door and he lost control of the wheel for all of a micro-second, but that was enough. Cars honked all around him and he nearly sideswiped a blue Sedan, but he made it back to his lane with a quick turn that nearly had him sliding into Jean.
Nydia was crouching now, her hackles raised. She glanced between Jeremy, Jean, and Jean’s daemon in quick rotation. What the fuck was that? She said. That’s when Jeremy realized that Jean’s daemon hadn’t moved an inch. She still lay where she was when she first jumped in, head resting on one of her paws. Jeremy would have assumed she was sleeping with how still she was, if not for her wide, unblinking eyes trained on Nydia, and the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
Calm down, Jeremy said. We have to calm down. We aren’t in danger.
You don’t know that, Nydia shot back.
You’re making it worse. Just breathe. Jeremy took a deep breath, and another, and another until Nydia finally joined in. Her hackles lowered, and he felt anger loosen out of her. She remained stiff, but lowered herself back down.
Another mile passed before Jeremy took his eyes off the road. Jean sat curled into the window, eyes fixated on nothing. His daemon had turned her face towards the wall of the car and once again looked like she was sleeping.
Jeremy had done something wrong. That must be it. What exactly that was, well, he wasn’t sure.
Absolutely not. You’re not guilt tripping us over this, Nadia said.
People don’t just act like that over nothing, Jeremy responded. It was something I did.
Or maybe he’s the problem.
Nydia,
Jeremy.
Jeremy sighed and ran a hand over his mouth. It had been a long time since he and Nydia fought like this, and he wasn’t enjoying the revisit. He needed to get himself under control.
Much softer this time, like Nydia was whispering under a duvet, she said his name again. Jeremy glanced in the rear view mirror and quietly waited for further admission.
There’s something wrong with her.
Jeremy glanced at the jaguar and felt a shiver dance up his spine.
Jean’s daemon hadn’t made any move to get out of the truck when they first arrived at the house. Jeremy stood on the curb with Nydia, waiting on Jean after being prompted to grab his bag. When it was clear the jaguar wasn’t going to move, Jeremy sent a questioning look at Jean. Jean narrowed his eyes a fraction in return, before tapping on the side of the truck with his knuckles. Nydia eyed the motion suspiciously, and it didn’t take a telepathic link to clue Jeremy into why.
This was the first time Jean had shown any form of communication between himself and his daemon, and it was physical.
Not now, Jeremy thought, though he wasn’t sure if that was for his own benefit or Nydia’s. She thankfully remained quiet but kept her eyes trained on the pair. If Jean noticed the intrusion, he chose to ignore it.
The Jaguar leapt down with the same strength as before, and, just as before, hung back enough to look odd as they entered the house.
Jeremy called out to the girls first but wasted little time making his way to the kitchen. It was uncharacteristically quiet.
The kitchen was an absolute mess, as if someone had ran it through a blender and abandoned the aftermath. Jeremy only had a few seconds to take it all in before Ignacio dove at Nydia.
The bird swiped at her head with his claws and Nydia responded with a bark and a snap of her jaws. From there, the two chased each other around the rice covered kitchen floor.
“Hey Iggy,” Jeremy said. He couldn’t help the chuckle that crept into his voice. Cat was next to come sprinting down the hallway, two different tape measures in her hands and a catalog tucked in her armpit.
“The boys!” she said, stopping just short of them and dumping her items on the rice covered counter. Jeremy noticed the catalog was for daemon beds. “You just missed Laila. She had to pop out for more rice—hello. This must be the wonder boy.” Iggy and Nydia had finally settled down their greeting, and the bird returned to Cat’s shoulder. “You’re taller in person. Nice. We need more height on the backline.”
“Jean, Cat, Cat, Jean,” Jeremy said.
“And this is Ignacio. Arctic tern,” Cat said. “You can call him Iggy, though.”
“Nice to meet you,” Iggy said, inclining his red beak. Iggy was one of the more talkative daemons on the team.
“Speaking of…” Cat leaned to peer behind Jean. “Where’s the lady?”
Jeremy hadn’t even noticed the jaguar was missing.
“By the door,” Jean said.
“Why’s that?” Cat asked.
Jean hesitated. For a moment Jeremy thought he was communicating with her, but then Jean rapped his knuckles on the wall.
Cat and Iggy both looked at Jeremy.
Nydia looked at Jeremy.
Jeremy wasn’t sure why everyone expected him to understand Jean’s weird communication with his daemon.
When the jaguar didn’t appear, Jean knocked on the wall again. “Forgive her, she is not feeling well.”
“Oh,” Cat said. “Do you guys get motion-sick? That happens to one of my aunts and her daemon every time they fly.”
“No,” Jean said.
When it was clear that was all they were getting, Jeremy said, “Then what’s wrong?”
The jaguar finally appeared but stopped just outside of the kitchen.
“She is sedated.”
Jeremy took in a quick breath.
Cat had no time to take in the size of Jean’s daemon or appreciate that her curiosity was finally satisfied. “What do you mean she’s sedated?”
“I mean exactly what I said. Why are we here?” The last part was directed at Jeremy, but Cat waved a hand in front of Jean’s face.
“Uh, hello? You’re here to meet your new roommates.”
Jean turned on Jeremy. “You can’t be serious.”
“What’s the problem here?” Cat asked.
“There has to be something else. I won’t live off-campus.”
“You don’t want to but you will. You’re on the lease.” Jeremy said.
Cat and Nydia both said “Jeremy,” at the same time.
“It’s fine,” Jeremy responded.
“It’s not fine,” Jean insisted. “We can’t be this far from the court. We’re not—”
However he planned to finish that sentence was cut off by a low growl. When everyone’s attention shifted to the jaguar, she lowered herself to the ground.
Before Jeremy or Cat could comment on what just happened, Jean said, “I can’t be this far from the court. Time wasted in transit is time I could be doing drills.”
Jeremy put his hand out like he was trying to soothe an animal, though he wasn’t sure if it was for Jean or his daemon. “We’re only a mile out from the stadium—”
“How close is beside the point. Why aren’t the Trojans required to live on campus?”
“Oh,” Cat said, probably working out that she and Laila weren’t the problem. “We are our freshman year. But this is much better, you’ll see. Dorms can get so crowded with daemons. And this will be a lot easier on—” Cat cut herself off. “What’s her name?”
“That is irrelevant.”
“Huh?”
Jean ignored her and turned on Jeremy again. “Knox.”
“Don’t call him that,” Nydia said out loud. Jean seemed surprised she had spoken, or maybe it was the way she said it.
“Okay, enough.” Jeremy swiped his hands through the air, trying to expel whatever went wrong with this interaction. “Nydia means I would like it if you didn’t call me that. Also, I told you there would be compromises between your ways and ours. Even if I wanted to put you in campus housing—which I don’t—I can’t. The only other Trojans that share a room don’t have room for you and especially not your daemon, that means Cat and Laila are your only option.”
“This’ll be great,” Cat said. “We can be a bit much, yeah, but we’re good roommates if I do say so myself. And there’s plenty of room for... your daemon.”
Jean didn’t look convinced.
“You’re getting your buddy system, Trojans in your classes, and Trojans for your roommates. It’s three out of four; I’d call that a win,” Jeremy said.
“It isn’t a win,” was Jean’s reply, but Jeremy could only shrug in response. Aside from the impossible, there was nothing more he could do. Jean seemed to concede with his next question.
“Who is my partner going to be?”
Jeremy gave him a smile.
The rest of the introduction went significantly better than the start. For the most part. Cat led Jean around the house on a detailed tour starting in the kitchen and working down the hallway. The jaguar finally tagged along, though Jeremy noted the distance she still maintained from everyone. Including Jean. As they came to the end of the hallway Jeremy felt a tingle move up his spine. He turned around to find the jaguar staring down Nydia.
“And here’s your room,” Cat said, opening the last door. “Now that we know what kind of daemon you have it’ll be easier to move things around. I think a daemon bed will fit against that wall if we move the dresser—unless you’re a cuddler. Laila and I have a king to accommodate Iggy and Marwan.”
Jean stepped into the room and set his small suitcase down. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Which part?” Cat asked.
Jean didn’t respond, which led Cat to ask where the rest of his suitcases were, which led to Jeremy dragging away an incensed Cat so Jean could get settled in peace. As they passed the jaguar, she kept her eyes trained on Nydia. Jeremy wondered if the sedative was wearing off.
Has she said anything to you? Jeremy asked Nydia.
Not a word, Nydia said. I tried talking to her in the kitchen. Jeremy, It’s like there’s nothing there.
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“To sever the connection between person and daemon is to kill them both. This is fact. However, this researcher wonders if there is a point in-between living and dead where both parties are neither and both at once. A self-hatred so profound that the soul is split but not separated. Cut so deep that communication between the parts is impossible.”
-Vanguaard, 2000, On PTSD and Daemons