Blue Exorcist/青の祓魔師 1. Chapter 1

I initially wrote this story as a oneshot. I had a lot of ideas on how the twin's adoption took place, but I was not going to invest the time and energy necessary to complete a multi chaptered fic if no one was interested in reading it. Since I first posted this chapter I have gotten such a positive response that I have decided to go ahead and expand the fic. To that end I have made a few changes to this chapter since it was first posted. Thanks everyone who took the time to check out my fic.

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It was cold. It was a harsh penetrating cold that was impossible to ignore now that he was standing still. It bit through his thick leather boots, wormed into the threads of his clothing, and lashed at the exposed skin of his face and hands. In the midst of this deep freeze two newborns cooed softly against the rapidly cooling body of their mother. Mephisto had reliably disappeared, his footsteps ending not far from the entrance of the cave.

_Bastard_

Shiro pulled at his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. He had the stick firmly clasped between his lips before he caught himself. He snorted and spat the cigarette on the ground. The crumpled up pack soon joined it on the snowy floor. It was an absolutely ridiculous situation. A moment ago he had been prepared to kill the two Satan spawned brats and now he was worrying about the effects of second hand smoke.

Right now the most immediate problem was the frigid air. At the very least Shiro could be grateful that the snow had stopped. Shiro stripped the blanket from Yuri's still corpse. She lay, hands folded, on the cushion where she had given birth. The halo of impossible blue flowers tinted her features with a blue phosphorescent light. He studied that last small, determined smile frozen permanently on her face. Despite all she had suffered these last few months she had died content, satisfied with the knowledge that she had survived long enough to give her boys a chance at life.

Shiro looked away. There would be plenty of time later to brood. He needed to focus on the immediate problems. This mountain was crawling with low level demons and while they had protected Yuri he doubted they would take as kindly to his apparent theft of her children. Satan may not have been able to interfere directly in the affairs of Assiah, but that did not mean he was safe from any of the upper level demons he might have sent looking for the boys.

That left Shiro with the practical problem of getting two newborns to shelter and dealing with their mother's body. He lifted each child from its mother's side surprised by the size and weight of them. It was like holding a bird. He kept his grip firm and loose half afraid that he would crush them if he held too tightly.

Shiro wrapped the boys as tightly as he dared. He used his scarf to tie the boys securely against his chest in a makeshift papoose. He slid Kurikara into his belt and started back down the mountain. He could only hope that Yuri's body would rest undisturbed until he could bury her.

The mountain breathed silently in winter's hold. Snow crunched and whined beneath each step and Kurikara's weight thumped awkwardly against his calf. He was perfectly alone as he waded through the landscape; there was no other sound save his footstep and the soft cries of the twins as they stirred in slumber. Shiro moved carefully trying not to disturb the warm weight secured to his chest.

He looked down at the two dark heads resting against him. He must have been out of his damned mind. Exorcists kill demons; they don't carry them home like a pair of stray kittens.

Despite appearances these children were not human. Shiro examined the infants, first Rin then Yukio. Mouths slack, fists curled in sleep; the boys were completely oblivious to the danger they were in. All Shiro needed to do was leave them exposed to the animals and the elements.

Shiro clenched his fists. No. Whatever else these boys might be they were completely innocent. He was no more capable of leaving them to die than he was of killing them himself. Rin and Yukio were also human. That meant they could be raised to think and feel as humans' did.

After an hour Shiro's toes and fingers were numb with cold. His face was chapped dry. He headed towards Yuri's cabin cursing Mephisto every step of the way. He checked the boys as they started to coo softly in their sleep. They seemed to have been spared the effects of the cold. Most likely they would be waking soon. He finally made it back to the powdered foot path that lead to the cabin. In an instant he knew he was being watched.

Shiro inhaled sharply, his fingers itched for the crumpled pack of smokes he had left in the cave. He kept his pace steady and calm. He listened. He waited. Carefully, casually he tightened his belt around Kurikara and wrapped his arms securely around the boys. He would have no choice but to run. He focused on the cabin rising slowly in the distance. Whatever was coming for him would not want to hurt the son's of Satan and that gave him the chance he needed. He had no idea what he would do once he got in the cabin.

The ground shuddered beneath Shiro's feet. The trees around him gasped and shed their fine coat of powder snow. Shiro dug his heels into the snow and surged forward. He didn't look back, he didn't stop to think about what might be coming towards him or where it might be coming from; he just ran. The sudden burst of speed jostled the two infants awake. The boys started to wail.

Shiro stumbled over a patch of frozen snow, wrenching his ankle and straining his hamstrings as he twisted to keep his balance. He leapt forward keeping a tenuous hold on the sword and the two children. Shiro heaved up the stairs of the porch and crashed through the door using his left shoulder as a battering ram. He tripped over the edge of the door as he stumbled forward.

Shiro squeezed his eyes shut and twisted to his right side taking care to cradle the two squalling infants as he fell. He landed with all the grace of a drunken bear. He was immediately rolling forward again. He placed his hand on the ground to lever himself up when he noticed he was resting on a carpet colored the same delicate pink as a carnation. He paused for a moment in his confusion. That was when the sound of excited clapping hit his ears.

Mephisto was sitting cross legged in a recliner the same obnoxious color as the carpet. At his elbow was a tall cherry table with embroidered white doilies. An elegant tea set, white decorated with pink cherry blossoms sat on the table alone with a tall, nearly emptied pastry stand. Crumbs from the devoured sweets liberally littered Mephisto's lap. The curio cabinets displaying anime collectibles were the only clue this room was the refuge of the Director of True Cross Academy and not of an aging senile dowager.

Mephisto's body was bent forward slightly, his eyes wide in something a little more disturbing than hero worship as he continued with his ovation. He was wearing the same impeccably tailored suit he had worn at Yuri's death bed. His purple-blue hair clashed horribly against the overwhelmingly pink décor of the room.

For a long moment Shiro could do nothing more than stare stupidly at the demon who applauded him from his carnation colored throne. Mephisto stopped his clapping and snapped his fingers. Shiro watched as the door rose from the ground and realigned itself with the hinges before closing itself. Mephisto was now staring at him with dewy eyed admiration. _I am going to kill him _Shiro thought

"Amazing Fujimoto-kun, simply amazing. One man alone braving the elements and demons to bring these two children to safety. What courage, what skill . . ."

The infant boys were wailing now, their cries growing in intensity. Shiro clutched them against his chest. "So you were watching me the whole damn time," he barely managed to keep his voice even. He was tired, sore, cold and wet.

Mephisto maintained his wide eyed stare of innocence (and how a demon managed to pull off that look so well Shiro would never know). "Well . . . I might have checked in from time to time."

Mephisto stopped when he turned to look at Shiro, who by this point was shaking with a cold lethal rage. "In any case you three need to settle and then we need to plan."

_Plan?_ Shiro wondered, he supposed he would find out soon enough. "Where are we anyway?" he grumbled still unnerved by his sudden arrival.

"My private residence," he held a soft pink key between his thumb and forefinger. "I arrived at the cabin ahead of you and made you a path." He tossed the key casually and caught it again.

Shiro wrapped both arms around the wailing boys and pulled them closer to his chest. Mephisto sighed loudly. "Be realistic Fujimoto-kun. You would never have made it too the village and even if you had what would you have told them? Your only options were to hole up in that demon infested forest or return to True Cross Headquarters. "

Mephisto was right of course. The superstitious villagers would have gossiped. The story of an exorcist carrying two infants out of the forest would have gotten back to headquarters. It would be even more ridiculous to expect that no one at the Vatican would notice if he returned from his mission with two children.

Mepisto reached for the boys. "Here, I'll watch them. Go clean yourself up."

With Mephisto's aid he unwound the layers of blanket that had secured the boys to his chest. They eased the boys into a wide pink bassinet set in an unoccupied corner of the room. They were both screaming now keeping time and pitch with one another like a pair of yowling cats. Shiro's head was starting to pound.

"Do you have any idea what to do with human children?"

"Well . . . no. But, I've taken care of my younger brothers. It can't be all that different. They are half demon after all." Shiro turned to glare at Mephisto.

"Don't _you_ know?" the demon demanded. The two of them stood there glaring at each other. As a matter of fact, he did not. He had never had much opportunity to interact with small children. He went out of his way to avoid children.

Only that wasn't entirely true. This pink room reminded him of another child he had saved. Shura had clung to him after her rescue, but her adoration had unnerved him. He had left her in the care of the Vatican. For the first time in years he wondered where she was and how she was doing.

"I've got it!" Mephisto exclaimed. He clapped his palms together and disappeared in a flash of smoke that smelled faintly of cotton candy. He puffed back in a moment later with a female demon at his side.

Shiro openly stared at the creature standing at Mephisto's side. She was the very definition of sultry. She stood as tall as Mephisto. Her long blue-black hair hung down her back in a series of braids. The ends of her braids were decorated with scrimshaw and seashells. Her skin was a light blue green and dusted in places with iridescent scales that shimmered as the light washed over them. She moved with a sinuous snake-like grace.

Mephisto draped a companionable arm over her muscular shoulders. "Fujimoto-kun, this is Lamia."

"Lamia," Shiro deadpanned. Was Mephisto screwing with him?

Lamia smiled, baring rows of sharp fangs. She moved towards Shiro in such a way that his eyes were helplessly drawn to the fleshy curves of her hips. She brushed by Shiro and knelt over the twins. She reached out both hands and cupped one cheek on each of the boys. They quieted immediately. Two sets of blue eyes turned to stare solemnly at the demon woman.

Lamia licked her lips and leaned over the bassinet.

Shiro started towards the demon, fingers reaching instinctively for his absent shotgun.

"Lamia." It was Mephisto. His voice was light and playful. There was no hint of a threat in either his tone or expression. Even so, Lamia froze immediately as she spoke her name. Shiro saw her eyes widen with fear. Very slowly she pushed away from the boys.

Shiro eased back, still wary. He carefully watched Lamia as she soothed the two boys. She saw to their needs, pausing at times to give instruction to Shiro and Mephisto as she worked. It seemed that Lamia was a very competent nanny. When the boys were calmed and sleeping once more she rose from their bedside and looked over to Mephisto. He dismissed her with a nod. Trusting that Mephisto would do nothing to put the twins in danger he accepted the demons' offer of a shower.

Shiro stripped and scrubbed himself off quickly wishing that he could stand under the spray of the shower head and absorb the heat of the water. His body ached and the leg he had injured during his flight to the cabin was starting to throb unpleasantly. He would probably be walking with a limp later.

Of far greater concern was Mephisto's handling of Lamia. According to the records of the True Cross she was a very old, very powerful succubus. Even so, she had obeyed Mephisto out of fear. He wondered just what this bet would cost him in the end.

Shiro rinsed the remaining suds from his body and pulled back the shower curtain. Someone had taken his soiled clothing without him noticing. The only stitch left in that room was a zebra print bathrobe left hanging on the back of the bathroom door. For a full minute Shiro seriously considered walking back into the pink room stark naked or wearing the dingy shower curtain if only to spite Mephisto.

He desperately wanted a smoke.

The pink room had been transformed by the time Shiro returned from his shower. The recliner and end table had been removed. In its place was a small circular dinette with two places set on either side. Mephisto had settled himself in one of those places and was pouring tea for the two of them. Two steaming styrofoam ramen cups had been set out.

Shiro hadn't realized how hungry he had been. The meal was too salty, too starchy, and the best thing he had ever tasted. As he chewed his head cleared and the headache that had been pounding behind his eyes eased. They ate in silence. Mephisto said not one word until the meal was finished and they were sipping tea. "We need to decide how to move forward."

Shiro leaned over his cup. He laced his hands together and set his chin on top of them. "Just why are you being so helpful?" The question had been bothering him since Mephisto had sealed Rin's power within Kurikara and only grew as the days events continued to unwind.

Mephisto smiled. It reminded Shiro of oil pooling over water. "Well Fujimoto-kun, it wouldn't be much of game otherwise and I certainly don't want those boys dead either."

_Bullshit._ Shiro was certain that everything that had happened since he had been abandoned on the mountain top was part of the demons' plan. There was a hell of a lot going on here. This was far more than just a game. He thought back over his arrival in the pink room, Lamia's appearance, and even the ridiculous bathrobe he was wearing. He got the distinct feeling that his every word and action was being weighed and judged.

"I don't know," Shiro frowned, finally answering the question.

He had been so focused on getting off the damn mountain he hadn't really had time to stop and think. Yuri's children had been sentenced to death before they were born. The only chance they had for survival was secrecy. He grudgingly had to admit that Mephisto's careful planning had saved them.

A month ago he could have retired from the order without much fanfare. He would have been free to hide the twins anywhere. The events of the Blue Night had changed that. It would be years before the Order regained the fighting strength it had lost that night. Shiro, an Exorcist Second Class, was now the most qualified exorcist in the True Cross Order.

He could feel Mephisto watching him from across the table. The demon sipped his tea and spoke. "Might I make a suggestion Fujimoto-kun?" he paused and set down his cup. "Would you consider joining the church?"

Shiro snorted scalding tea into his nose.

"Now hear me out," Mephisto continued," You did specialize as an Aria. You know the Christian scriptures. If you were part of a church run orphanage no one would pay any attention to these two."

Shiro had to admit it made sense. The church offered him a way to balance his responsibilities to the Order and his obligation to those boys. Shiro wiped tea from his stubble and thought.

That night Shiro accepted Mephisto's offer to stay at his private residence until arrangements for himself and the twins could be made. He was guided from the pink room to an ostentatious foyer and up a wide set of arched staircases to a guest bedroom. Exhausted from a long day spent on a mountainside he collapsed on top of the bed covers and was asleep within minutes.

In the end there was only one thing Shiro could do. He had already made the decision on that mountainside over the cooling body of a woman he might have grown to love. Let the Knights think that he was a coward who had lost his nerve. It didn't matter. He would be free to raise the sons of Satan right under their noses. Whatever these boys were, whoever they were to become was his responsibility. He could only hope that the world would not burn for his choice.


	2. Chapter 2

Shiro opened his eyes and stared stupidly at the fuzzy face hovering inches from his own. He blinked. It took his sleep drunk mind another moment to register what exactly was wrong with this situation. Shiro surged forward flailing clumsily, hoping to knock the intruder off balance. The face retreated and his hands struck only air.

"Good morning Fujimoto-kun. How did you sleep?"

Shiro sat at the edge of the bed, mouth gaping as he panted. His fist bunched the fabric of the zebra print bathrobe as he waited for the frantic pounding of his heart to calm. It was Mephisto, of course it was Mephisto, who else would it be.

Shiro sighed, rubbed his hand over a new growth of beard and reached for his glasses. Mephisto's blurry form crystallized into focus.

Shiro wondered just how Mephisto could live so long amongst humans and still fail to grasp something as basic as proper attire. Mephisto had abandoned his smartly tailored white suit and was now wearing a white pair of pantaloons complete with striped tights, cape, and top hat. Shiro examined his anachronistic outfit and then cringed at the sight of a bundle of clothes tucked under the demon's arm presumably for him to wear.

"I need to take a leak," Shiro announced.

Unfortunately the crude statement did nothing to damper Mephisto's enthusiasm. The demon cheerfully informed him where the bathroom was and that he would wait until Shiro returned. At least he had the courtesy to pass the bundle of clean clothes to Shiro as he left the room. They were his street clothes taken from his room at the Vatican.

He returned far more alert than when he left and unspeakably grateful to be rid of that ridiculous bathrobe. He finally took a moment to examine the room he had spent the night in.

The room was the same blue as a cloudless summer morning sky. It was large, its space accentuated by a pair of wide windows. Unlike the pink room this room was barely decorated containing little more than a king sized bed and a clothing chest. The minimalist nature of the room put Shiro at ease.

Mephisto stood in the center of the room like some great white pimple.

_Eins_

_Zwei_

_Drei_

The demon snapped his fingers. A great cloud and the scent of cotton candy filled the room. When the cloud faded so did Shiro's peace of mind.

The room was suddenly cluttered with every type of infant care supply Shiro could think of and quiet a few things Shiro had never seen before. Buried in the center of the boxes of diapers, wipes, and formula was the pink bassinet with the twins secured within. Lamia was draped over the side like a demented blue skinned Vanna White.

"Where did all this come from?" Shiro demanded when he expelled the last vestiges of cotton candy from his lungs.

"I did some shopping," Mephisto was extraordinarily pleased with himself. It was making Shiro twitch.

"We should celebrate Fujimoto-kun!" Mephisto was bouncing. "Do you know how long it's been since I have had new brothers? This is a rare and joyous occasion." He bent over the boys chattering happily as he attached a mobile of dancing Mephistos to the side of the bassinet. Shiro was reminded very strongly of a twelve year old boy who had just been given his first puppy. Maybe Mephisto would calm down after the novelty of the situation had worn of.

Joy was hardly the first emotion he would associate with the birth of Satan's offspring. It might be that not killing them was the worst mistake he would ever make. The memory of Yuri's selflessness and the way Rin had laughed innocently in the face of his executioner had left him unsettled. He had always been a simple creature who solved his problems efficiently and rationally. Demons are a threat to humanity therefore demons must be exorcised. It was a practical solution to a dangerous problem. Only there was nothing about this situation that was simple or rational.

He did not feel the slightest bit of affection for these boys, only a great deal of regret when he thought of their stupidly kind mother. Satan had used her as an incubator and her father had handed her over to be killed in the most horrific manner possible. Shiro understood his own motivations far too late. He had chased her through the mountains not because of any potential threat she presented, but because he had wanted to protect her. Instead he had failed her in every way imaginable and now all he could do was try to carry out her dying wish.

Shiro allowed the demons to fuss over the boys and faded into the background as much as possible. He tolerated Mephisto's boisterous energy, avoided Lamia's flirtations, and kept careful stock of his holy water and blessed bullets. Until a place could be found where he could raise the twins he had no other choice but to rely on Mephisto. For a man who built his reputation on competence and ability; the sudden dependence irritated him like an itch between the shoulder blades.

Shiro was so stir crazy by the end of the third day he decided to return to the mountain to face the creature that had pursued him. He wanted the simplicity of a fight to work off the frustration burrowing into his chest as each idle day passed. The next morning Shiro ate the breakfast Mephisto had provided, dressed in the clothes Mephisto had left for him to wear, and loaded the twins into a stroller Mephisto had provided for his use.

The twins had been downgraded from responsibility and possible threat to ravenous shit machines. He was tired, worn ragged by their irregular sleep cycle and Lamia's constant intrusion into the room he shared with the infants. He ached for a moment of quiet, for the solid security of his rooms at the Vatican. More than once Shiro found himself wishing he could simply drop them at the first orphanage he came across and forget about them.

Shiro found Mephisto in an elegant sun room conservatively decorated in dark earthy tones. The demon was sitting at a white wicker patio set lazily eating a bowl of gelato. He greeted Shiro cheerfully as the exorcist wheeled the boys to the wicker table and sat in the chair opposite.

"Mephisto, I want to go back, find out what was chasing me through the woods." He said without preamble, determined that this time Mephisto would not stop him from taking action.

Mephisto continued to eat slowly until he had finished the gelato. Then he lifted the delicate spoon and carefully licked the remaining sticky residue with a cat's concentration before setting the spoon down and turning to regard Shiro with guileless eyes. "Why would you want to do that Fujimoto-kun?"

Shiro thought the answer should have been obvious. "Whatever that thing is, it's powerful and probably Satan related. We can't just leave it on that mountain. A skilled exorcist should go to put it down."

"An excellent point Fujimoto-kun," Mephisto paused considering. "But, not what I was asking."

Shiro blinked.

Mephisto grinned. "I want to know why you want to do it Fujimoto-kun. I would think that you have quite enough to worry about." He turned his gaze to where the twins were sleeping.

Shiro felt a white hot stab of anger and resentment. "What do they have to do with this? Certainly Lamia can watch them long enough for me to deal with one goddamn demon."

"I see." Mephisto folded his hands and watched Shiro expectantly. "Fujimoto-kun, are you conceding your end of the bet."

"What . . . no, I just . . ."

"Fujimoto-kun, must I remind of the terms of our bet, that you personally would raise those boys in to fine humans? In the time that you have been here you have left them almost exclusively in the care of Lamia. I am afraid that if you run away now I will take it as admittance that you are not capable of raising them." Mephisto's grinned widened. Shiro was reminded of a snake as it unhinges it jaw to feed. "I would hate to see my younger brothers neglected."

Shiro froze for a moment, trying to find an appropriate response. He had never seen such a wicked looking expression on the demon's face. It reminded him that despite the months they had searched for Yuri and the Koma sword he knew almost nothing about Mephisto. "Wait a minute; you said that would only happen if they woke to their true nature as demons."

Mephisto's eyes narrowed. "Fujimoto-kun, do you understand what a demon is?"

_What is that supposed to mean?_ Of course he knew what demons were. He had been fighting them his entire adult life. He was getting tired of Mephisto's cryptic bullshit.

Mephisto sighed, "Fujimoto-kun, it would be pointless for me to tell you," He frowned, "Honestly, I thought you would have learned that much from Yuri."

Like a bulldog stung by a choke chain Shiro stopped his attack. It was strange to think how one simple event had so drastically changed his relationship with her. Three years ago he had been assigned to the Vatican, valued not only for his skill, but for his cool headed detachment when carrying out his assignments. His demeanor was noted by the conniving bishops and cardinals; soon he was being assigned to the tasks that required secrecy for fear they would cause a scandal. He moved amongst the Vatican's dignitaries like a panther amongst sheep.

He had met the Cardinal's pretty daughter after one such mission. He had been reporting back when she had come into her father's office, announcing herself with a timid knock. She had been wearing the uniform of an exorcist, fiddling with the ornamental pin as her father ignored her entrance. She was self conscious enough that Shiro guessed she had only recently made her qualifications. He learned later that her father had pushed her into the order when he learned she had talent as a tamer.

Shiro had dismissed her as the pampered child of a wealthy family and had forgotten about her. In fairness she was easily forgettable; quiet by nature she tended to defer to the people around her. She could have enjoyed a great deal of popularity with in the order due to her family position and beauty, but like Shiro she seemed to enjoy fading in to the background.

When he found her after that fateful mission she had been so completely changed Shiro felt like a fool for not suspecting she was possessed. She had challenged him, argued with him, and sent him back to the Vatican empty handed. Shiro complied, after all he had only been sent to find her, not return her to her father. At the time it had hardly seemed worth the trouble.

Now he wondered just how much of her odd behavior had been Satan's influence and how much was her acting out of her own desires. Given all that had happened he could hardly believe she had been on good terms with her father. It was possible Satan had used her own frustrations to manipulate her; first into going in to isolation and then in to bearing his children. What didn't make sense were her actions at the Vatican. She had knowingly put her life and the lives of her unborn children at risk by blatantly admitting they were Satan's offspring. She could have let the Cardinal believe Shiro was the father and no one would have been the wiser until the brats were born. Unless she had been sincere in her belief that humans and demons could co-exist. Unless she believed her father would protect her.

Shiro wished that he had known her better. As strange a girl as she had been it had taken real courage to stand up to the Grigori. It was something Shiro admired.

That kind of courage deserved a reward. He owed it to her to do everything in his power to protect her children. It was too depressing to think that the only people in the world who didn't want these boys dead were a manipulative demon and a crusty exorcist. It would be the mother of all miracles if they lived to see their second year.

Mephisto was right, he had been so busy simmering in resentment that he had hardly given any thought to the needs of his two wards. He had been so damn determined coming down that mountain, but when called to back up his determination with action he had failed miserably. The truth was he was afraid; afraid of what the future would bring, afraid of how his life must change now that he was adopting two half-human children.

"Be patient Fujimoto-kun," Mephisto said seemingly sensing Shiro's surrender, "That thing will be dealt with in good time. We couldn't bury Egin-san otherwise."

It was an odd thing for Mephisto to be concerned with and Shiro said as much. Mephisto smiled silkily, "Would you care for some gelato, Fujimoto-kun?"

Fujimoto accepted his offer as an apology. It marked the beginning of a truce between the exorcist and the demon; a moment which was soon interrupted when the twins began to fuss. For the first time since his arrival Shiro was hovering at the crib side before Lamia could arrive. Mephisto watched, something close to satisfaction flitting across his face.

_Hips._ It was the first thought that crossed his mind as Lamia moved towards the crib. How any creature could manage to move like that without falling over was beyond him. Shiro looked up to see the succubus smile with sleazy confidence. He had been caught watching her swaying thighs.

He really had picked the wrong damn week to quit smoking.

Lamia lifted Rin from the bassinet with a confidence Shiro didn't possess. She produced a bottle and started to feed the child. Shiro tentatively reached for Yukio. He would never have believed before now that a human started life with an eggshell's delicacy. Now he had the proof cradled between his broad calloused hands. The kid was just so damn tiny.

He pulled the boy closer to his chest, feeling the warm pulse of life between his hands. Like his mother Yukio had a collection of moles dotted across his rounded cheeks. His fingers folded against his palms, and limbs furled close to his torso; Yukio was squinting up at him and pouting. Shiro lifted the boy closer to his face and frowned.

Lamia started to laugh. She was watching Shiro as she fed Rin. "Staring contest, Shiro-chan?" She laughed again and turned back to Rin.

Shiro felt a stab of anger as he blushed. It passed quickly. He supposed he did look rather foolish. "How did you know Rin was hungry?" If it weren't for the moles he wouldn't have been able to tell the two apart, never mind being able to tell why they were crying.

"He was sucking on the blanket,"

"Aah." A pause broken only by the sound of Rin's eating.

Lamia pulled the bottle away and lifted the boy to be burped. She grinned at him, taking a great deal of enjoyment from his discomfort. "Shiro-chan, why don't you try talking to him?"

"Talk?" He was supposed to talk to them?

Lamia snorted, "Yes. Talk. Speak. How else is he supposed to get to know you?"

_Oh hell. _He thought back to the few times he had been around small children. He remembered how their mothers hovered around them spouting nonsense words with suitably grating falsetto voices. _Nope_. The twins would just have to get used to his gruff manner of speaking.

"Well kid," He started quietly, awkwardly, "Looks like your stuck with me. Boy did you ever get screwed." Yukio squinted, trying to get a better look as Shiro spoke. "So let's make a deal; I gave up smoking in return promise you won't turn into some sort of three headed flame spewing hellbeast when you hit puberty."

Yukio blinked and gurgled. Shiro could feel Lamia's annoyance from across the room. Mephisto was smirking, content to bask in the chaos. In retrospect it had probably not been the best thing to say. A moment later Yukio turned his face Shiro's chest and started to suck at his shirt in a fruitless search for a breast.

Life fell in to a comfortable routine after that. Shiro devoted himself to caring for the twins. He found that he was so busy he no longer had time to brood or simmer in resentment. He learned the cues the twins used when they were hungry, he learned how often they needed to be burped, and could now change diapers like a champion. Lamia remained at the mansion, but over the passing days she was more of a mentor than an active caretaker. She seemed strangely depressed by the new development. Shiro found it hard to believe that anyone would enjoy the menial tasks of taking care of two infants.

Finally spending time with the boys he was able to see the first stirrings of personality in them. Rin was disgustingly cheerful. When he wasn't sleeping or eating he was smiling or laughing. Shiro was starting to wonder if the kid had brain damage, no one was that happy all the time. Yukio was another matter. He was quiet and pale. He spent his time staring, examining the world with solemn blue eyes. When Shiro would speak Yukio would turn towards him, listening silently to his voice. Shiro did his best to watch his language when he was around them. It wouldn't do to teach them his entire vocabulary of expletives before they reached kindergarten. The twins were small, and warm, and helpless. No on had ever needed Shiro as badly as these boys. It was a sobering thought.

Shiro woke the morning of the seventh day, his mouth burning with bile. It had been years since he had dreamed about his parents, but those dreams remained as unpleasant as ever. He rose, headed to the bathroom to rinse out his mouth. Lamia stalked in a moment later bearing his neatly folded uniform. She dropped the clothes on the foot of his bed then walked to crib where the twins were just starting to wake. It was his True Cross uniform. Something must have happened. Shiro dressed silently gave a nod of acknowledgement to Lamia before leaving her to look after the sleeping twins. Mephisto was waiting to great him as he stepped into the hallway.

"Sleep well Fujimoto-kun?" The demon grinned toothily.

"Did something happen?" Shiro ignored the question.

"The Grigori are holding an inquiry . They want to speak to you."

"I thought you already took care of that." He shrugged into his overcoat.

Mephisto laughed. "So adorable Fumjimoto-kun. I've held them off as long as I could. Of course they want to see you."

Mephisto reached into his cape and drew out the key that would take them to the Vatican. Shiro wondered how long Mephisto had been known about the inquiry. This all seemed a little too premeditated. It didn't matter. He needed to deal with this. Together the demon and the exorcist stepped through the doorway.


	3. Chapter 3

At work 6 of our 9 reactors were down for maintenence over Easter, which meant I had plenty of time to read, write, and count dust motes floating across the ceiling. So this chapter is done a good two weeks earlier then planned.

Thanks to everyone who has read this far- view counts motivate me. I am incredibly flattered that anyone would think to add this little story of mine to their follows/favs. And giant soft pretzels for the people who reviewed. Thanks for the encouragement!

I am going to continue to respond to reviews through PM. I am hoping to update consistently once a month, but since I do most of my writing at work it may not happen that way.

Sorry Yuro-Faita911- no Lamia or babies in this chapter- They might make an appearance in the next one. I missed writing for them.

Thanks so much for reading :)

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"I wonder what happened while we were away." Mephisto mused. Shiro trailed behind him, brooding as they stepped onto the open air walkway high above True Cross Academy. The last time he had been in Vatican City had been a nightmare. His memories of that night were an indistinct blur of chaos and movement. The blue flames, the smell of meat roasting and the moans of the dying had been everywhere.

Mephisto was brimming with enthusiasm, whistling and practically skipping as they neared the other end of the walkway. If his behavior was anything to judge by this was going to be an intense interrogation. Fear jarred him. There was no way they could have figured out what he had done, not when he could barely believe it himself.

They reached the end of the walkway and entered the solid doors that lead to Headquarters. Mephisto left him and ascended the stairs to sit in the gallery with the rest of the Japanese Branch representatives. Shiro paused and squinted against the glare of the chandelier. Peering down from the galleries that encircled the room were the masked men and women who represented the different branches of the order. The three Grigori were seated directly in the gallery in front of him and above them sat the aging Law Enforcement Director, Natalia Azevedo. Shiro felt a bit like he was trapped in a fish bowl being glared at by a flock of well dressed pigeons. Mephisto grinned at Shiro and gave him two thumbs up.

Azevedo silenced the quiet murmurs coming from the balconies and called the meeting to order with a bang of her gavel. Her wizened hands motioned towards Shiro. "First Class Exorcist Shiro Fujimoto, take the witness stand." He watched him with narrowed dark eyes as he mounted the steps.

"We call this meeting of the High Council to order on this day January the third year of our lord 1996, We are holding this inquiry to investigate the actions of First Class Exorcist Inspector Shiro Fujimoto during the events leading up to the exorcism of Satan's offspring. The chief examiner will be Melchior of the Grigori"

. Shiro turned to look at the eldest of the Grigori. He had sat as an advisor to the Order since Shiro was training at True Cross Academy. The ancient face was motionless behind the thick veils covering his face. The Grigori rarely acted as examiners, instead choosing to listen and advise after interrogations. In the silence Shiro could hear the busy hands of a stenographer. "Fujimoto-san, tell us how you first became involved with Junior Exorcist Second Class Yuri Egin." Shiro watched with fascination as Melchior spoke through his long white beard. The voice was surprisingly animated and firm for such an old man.

It was safe to tell the truth about this. "I met Exorcist Egin only a handful of times before she disappeared." He stopped, swallowed to moisten his dry mouth. The Grigori seemed to be waiting for him to say more.

"Tell us what you know about Cardinal Ernst Egin.

The light from the Chandalier was almost overpowering, making the room uncomfortably hot. Maybe that was why they forced witnesses to stand directly beneath the thing. "I worked with Cardinal Egin while I was assigned to the Vatican."

"And how close would you say the two of you were?"

"I sometimes took assignments from him. I was no closer to him than any other official I worked with."

Melchior's lips twitched and his hands crept up to tangle in his white beard. "Fujimoto-san, If you had no particular connection with the Egin family why then did he select you to find his daughter after her disappearance? Why didn't he make a request officially through the Order?"

Shiro paused taken off guard for a moment. "Junior Exorcist Egin initially refused to come home after her mission was complete. She kept contact with Cardinal Egin without giving away her location. He probably thought she was safe and saw no reason to involve the Order." It was also an effective way to keep the matter quiet. The Order would have sent a team of exorcists to track down the child of a high ranking Vatican official. It would be much easier to keep a secret if only he was involved. It would be much easier to protect the Cardinal's position if something went wrong.

Shiro continued without prompting. "I went to the region in Austria where she disappeared and began my search. I managed to find her by following rumors of a witch living somewhere on the mountains around the village where she was last seen."

Shiro cleared his throat wishing he had some water to soothe his suddenly dry mouth. "She was living alone in a cabin. I tried to convince her to return to the Vatican, but she refused. It was then that I learned she was openly fraternizing with demons."

"What sort of demons?" Melchior cut in sharply.

"I only saw Hobgoblins and snowmen, low level mischief makers." Shiro waited a moment for further interruption before continuing. "I reported back to the Cardinal, told him what I had found. He ordered me to bring her home by any means necessary."

His collar felt tighter. Just how damn hot was this room going to get? "I . . . when I returned I tried to exorcize the demons. Yuri, Exorcist Egin, begged me to stop. She got angry when I didn't. The next thing I knew she was covered in blue flames."

It had been worse than that. He remembered how her face twisted beyond recognition with hatred, her thin lips pulled back into a grimace over rows of sharpened teeth. Her face had lengthened cheeks and chin becoming sharp razor edges. She had growled and slobbered, her tongue hanging inhumanly from her mouth. Her eyes had glowed like coals in a brazier.

Then there was her voice. It was Satan speaking through her and while he could hear the faint sounds of her feminine alto it was overlaid by a harsh male bass echoing like words spoken in a cave. And what words they were; obscenities that Shiro himself never thought to use.

Distantly he heard the disturbance in the crowd above him. "Fujimoto-san, with all due respect, how are you still alive?"

Shiro had wondered that himself as he carried Yuri to bed. His overcoat had been torn to shreds and the smell of sun baked concrete clung to him for a month. "Exorcist Egin collapsed. I believe the strength of Satan's power and her pregnancy weakened her so that she was unable to fight for extended periods of time."

"Extended periods of time? You mean you fought Satan?" Melchior bellowed incredulously, half rising from his seat.

Shiro shook his head and spoke, "I avoided getting killed until Yuri collapsed." That was hardly the same thing as getting in a fight.

Words and conversations muddled the air once more. Shiro could hear the whisperings of disbelief and awe. Azevedo was banging the gavel once again, yelling for order. Melchior seemed particularly indignant.

"Continue Fujimoto-san." Azevedo spoke after the disturbance had settled.

"I brought Yuri back to the Vatican. When it was discovered she was pregnant I was arrested by Order of Cardinal Egin. I was in prison until the Blue Night."

There were nervous voices speaking softly in the balconies. Melchior's hand was twisted so tightly in his beard Shiro was certain he would pull out the hair.

Shiro felt the familiar, insistent throb of guilt. He had been so certain that bringing her back to the Vatican had been the right thing to do. He felt her ghost as he stood under the accusing eyes of the Grigori. How much worse had it been for her to stand here pleading her doomed cause. If anyone had the strength and compassion to raise those boys it would have been her. The only thing Shiro was certain of was that he was a poor substitute.

"Was there any indication that Cardinal Egin had any contact with his daughter during her isolation?" Melchior was speaking again.

"No, none at all." Shiro frowned. He had already answered this question.

"How would you describe the relationship between the Cardinal and his daughter when she returned to the Vatican?" Melchior was stroking his beard, knobby knuckles pressed prominently into the white hairs.

Was he fucking kidding? "Things between them were . . . not good." And wasn't that putting it lightly. Melchior was glaring at him, like he had expected him to say something else. Shiro was starting to wonder what the point of this inquiry was. They didn't seem all that concerned with the possibility that he had failed his mission.

"Is there anything else you can tell us, anything unusual about the Egin's?" Melchior's voice was sharp, agitated.

Shiro's confusion continued to grow. He wasn't sure what Melchior expected him to say or why he was so obsessed with the Cardinal and his daughter. "No, nothing."

" On October 31st 1995 yourself and Director Pheles were ordered to find and exorcise Yuri Egin and the spawn of Satan. Were you successful?" Azevedo was speaking in official tones. Apparently Melchior had had his say for now.

"Yes. Junior Exorcist Egin died before she could give birth. We found her body. There was no need to take further action." This was the lie he and Mephisto had agreed upon day before. Nothing had happened on the mountain. Yuri died and her children had died before they could take their first breath. There was no need to worry about the two helpless boys he had left under the care of a succubus because they had never existed in the first place.

"Then what did you do with Yuri Egin's body?"

_Shit._ It was one question Shiro and Mephisto had never discussed. Of course they would want a body. Oh he could tell them where she was easily enough, but an examination would show she had given birth before she died. His mind raced, grasping for a suitable excuse. He looked briefly towards the galleries, but Mephisto had disappeared. It was too convenient, Shiro found it extremely hard to believe the demon would not have anticipated this question. Shiro fumbled a moment more before the lies began pouring from his mouth. "There was a powerful demon on that mountain, possibly sent by Satan. We couldn't bring the body with us."

There was a subdued disturbance in the galleries as the branch heads bent to gossip with one another. Upset murmuring and angry whispers echoed through the hall. . "One further question Fujimoto-san, why did you not immediately report back to the Vatican?"

"Director Pheles and I were trying to retrieve Yuri's body. We came as soon as we received the summons." Another rushed lie, he was really screwing things up.

Shiro waited in the silence his heart pulsing with anxiety. The galleries were silent. Shiro rubbed his eyes against the glare of the chandelier. He wished he had left his overcoat behind. He was probably sweating rings through his shirt.

Melchior was sneering. "I have no further questions."

"Fujimoto-san, you are dismissed." Apparently that had been the signal to Azevedo to adjourn the hearing. Shiro descended the stairs searching the gallery for Mephisto once more.

Two guards fell in to step with him as he reached the bottom step. They guided him from the courtroom and through the dorms used by the exorcists assigned to the Vatican. This deep into headquarters Shiro saw fresh paint on the walls. The carpets were new too.

The faces that stared back at them were all far too young; the halls were nearly empty of people. There was the faint scent of sweat and human bodies living too closely together, but underneath that was the odor of sun baked concrete. Shiro felt a twinge of sickness. This was a mausoleum he was walking through. He wondered how many had died in this hallway; how many of them did he know, how many had he never even bothered to speak to.

The exorcists led him to his old dorm room and took positions just outside the closed door. Curled on his bed sleeping was a small white dog. There was no earthly reason for a dog to be in his room, or anywhere in True Cross Headquarters for that matter.

Shiro approached the dog carefully, trying not to wake it. He jabbed two fingers into its side. It certainly felt like a real dog, and the wards around headquarters kept most demons and ghosts from wandering in. The dog grumbled a bit in sleep, but did not move otherwise. Maybe the beast was a familiar or pet to one of the new exorcists who had moved into the dorms.

Shiro explored the painfully empty room he had lived in for the past three years. The room was clean, if a little dusty and to anyone else it looked like it had been left untouched since the day Shiro last slept there. Shiro knew better. The mattress on the bed was new and so were the sheets and blankets. He could see where the carpet had been torn from the floor before being stapled back in place. The clothes that had been left here by Mephisto were rumpled and wrinkled as if someone had rooted through them. His good lighter was in the wrong place and the few books he owned were no longer in alphabetical order. All of his weapons and his supply of holy water were missing, probably confiscated before the hearing.

Shiro completed his inspection of the room twice more taking stock of things missing or out of place before sitting on the firm new mattress. The little white terrier opened its eyes as soon as the surface sank beneath his weight. It released a little high pitched bark and wagged its stubby tail so hard its entire lower half was shaking with the effort. Its lean pink tongue flopped out of its mouth. In a moment the little dog leapt into Shiro's lap. Shiro sat rigidly, attempting to restrain the dog as it reached to lick his face. There was more excited yipping and licking before Shiro could wrap his hands around the squirming body and place the small dog on the floor. The little paws had just hit the carpeted floor when the dog turned and jumped right back in Shiro's lap.

This time the dog curled against Shiro's legs generously dusting his clothes with a coat of white fur. Shiro knocked the dog off his legs again before laying back and stretching out on his bed. He didn't have the energy to fight the annoying fucker at the moment.

He heard the dog pacing the carpet for another moment, and then there was a slight tug on the blankets as the dog climbed the bed again. The little animal climbed onto his stomach and curled with its nose pressed against its little paws. Shiro signed. The warmth against his stomach was surprisingly soothing. Almost against his will he reached out a hand to stroke the animal's fur. It was coarse and wiry beneath his palm. The dog pushed deeper into his hand and wuffed softly. Shiro felt some of the tension from the hearing drain away with each stroke. Maybe dogs weren't so bad after all.

Then the silence was broken by a familiar voice that was far to close for his liking. "That lie really was quite terrible. You do realize that now they will send exorcists to destroy that monster. You had better hope they don't find her body."

Mephisto's voice was coming from the dog. Shiro jumped to his feet knocking the dog onto the carpet. He brushed white fur from his uniform and shuddered at the feel of warm slobber seeping through his pants.

He stared at the dog now sitting contentedly on the floor in front of him. The animal wagged its stubby tail enthusiastically and spoke again. "Something wrong Fujimoto-kun?"

There was no doubt this time that the dog had spoken and that the dog was Mephisto.

"I don't suppose you know what's going on here? They were awfully interested in the Egins." Shiro crossed his arms over his chest and did his best to hide how disturbed he felt at the moment. He would never look at dogs the same way again.

"Hmmm . . . in fact I do." It was damn weird to watch the fuzzy bastard speaking. Dog Mephisto rose to four feet and shook off loose white hairs. He jumped into the bed and sat. "It's because of Blue Night. It affected exorcists all over the world, but Vatican City was hit the hardest. The Paladin is dead, three of the four arc Knights are dead, and only a handful of first class exorcists assigned to the city survived. The ones that did survive are horribly burned. Except for you of course." It was the first time Shiro had seen a dog smirk. "Good thing those dungeons are warded for demons."

So that's what this had been about. Mephisto might have been an honored member of the Order, but he was far from trusted and the events of Blue Night would have made it harder for him to move around freely. So he had allowed Shiro to undergo interrogation and used it as a distraction to gather information.

"There will be trouble," Shiro said finally. If three years at the Vatican had taught him anything it would be politics. The exorcists assigned to the Vatican were either extremely skilled or had family connections within the Catholic Church. They were men and women who had a great deal of influence within the Order. If most of them were now dead then there would be a power struggle to fill those old positions.

The Paladin's death was most troublesome. His role was not only to take on the most dangerous missions. He also served as a figurehead and unifying symbol within the Order. And if the Arc Knights were dead or injured then there would be no easy way to choose a successor.

Mephisto saved the best bit of gossip for last.

"And Cardinal Egin has disappeared a few days ago."

Mephisto now had Shiro's full attention. The last time Shiro had seen the Cardinal he had been disabled by the extensive burns he had suffered. He had thought the man would have died. Then again, maybe he also had a bit of Yuri's immunity.

"It gets better. The last living arc knight and a few First Class Exorcists disappeared with him. There are also reports that members of the Order's research division are missing. And there is a great deal of money missing from the Vatican's treasury."

"So nobody knows what happened." Shiro could feel the beginnings of a new headache. As if he needed more complications.

"There are some theories."

Shiro sighed. The questioning made a lot more sense now. "So they think that I might be able to tell them where the Cardinal is, that I helped him escape."

"That is one of the theories, yes. A favorite of the current Melchior I believe." Mephisto was twinkling.

"And they think that Yuri might still be alive and with her Father."

"Right again." Now he was beaming and twinkling.

_Fantastic._


	4. Chapter 4

Here ya be- enjoy everyone

Reynardine comes from mock fable Ysengrimus. I read Jill Mann's translation last month and parts of it stuck with me.

Special thanks to Kristen Sharpe and SuperiorDimwit for keeping me on task with this story.

I own nothing

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There was an unsettling sense of unfamiliarity surrounding Shiro's room in the exorcists' dorms. The loss of the comfortable sounds that came from the rooms around him was jarring in ways he hadn't expected. The eccentric Brian Polchak had the room to his left. On quiet evenings Shiro could hear him having entire conversations with himself. These chats were often punctuated by manic exclamations of glee. To his right was Henry Toulane who kicked the walls in his sleep and would sing Billie Holiday songs when he was happy.

James Ngyuen had kept a pair of lovebirds who escaped his room every time he cleaned the cage. John McAllister would jog down the dorms wide hallways on nights he couldn't sleep. There were a hundred other little distractions that Shiro only noticed now that they were gone. These men and their odd habits had become part of the background noise of Shiro's life. Now they were gone.

There were new noises, new smells, and new people in the hallways. These Smooth cheeked children moved through the halls of his dorm with the confidence brought on by two months of living there. They watched him, half reverent, half afraid as he was escorted through the dorms by Naoto Kyodo.

After the initial inquiry Shiro had been called back to the courtroom. The Grigori were split, undecided on just how involved Shiro was with the Egin's disappearance. A compromise was made. Until they could be sure of his loyalty Shiro would be under temporary house arrest at the Vatican and that he would be escorted at all times. The man they chose for the job was Kyodo.

Kyodo was a young man no more than twenty-five with the sturdy blunt features of an ox and the brazen attitude of a rooster in a hen yard. The boy had escorted Shiro back to his rooms immediately after he was dismissed from the courtroom. He kept one broad hand firmly wrapped around Shiro's forearm as he steered him through the halls. Shiro's skin prickled beneath the rough bandages covering Kyodo's hands. The young exorcists populating the dorms openly stared as they walked down the halls that day.

There was a magic circle painted on the front of Shiro's door. And it wasn't just the door. The floor, ceilings, and walls were all adorned with magic circles. Shiro examined the perfect arches of those circles, his eyes tracing the geometric patterns inscribed within. He squinted and drew closer to his wall trying to read the alien lettering outlining the circle.

Magic circles were generally classified as black magic. The Vatican approved their use for only two reasons; summoning a familiar and containing a demon. While he had never officially mastered a Tamer Meister he was familiar enough with the forms to recognize a circle's function. He had no idea what these circles were for and that was more than a little unnerving.

Kyodo had taken to surveying the nearly empty room with a grin on his face. "Figured you could use the decorating old man. Brightens the place up a bit."

_Old Man?_ "Yeah really makes the place feel like home." Shiro watched as Kyodo fingered through his personal possessions, stopping to leaf through one of his books. "Your work?" he asked on a hunch.

"Sure is." Kyodo shut the book. "Try leaving the room and you'll get a taste of what they can really do.

"Lovely." Shiro grumbled.

Kyodo's light expression and tone never changed. "Hey it was either this or the dungeons. I'd say it's a pretty good setup for the cold blooded bastard who murdered a young girl and her unborn child."

_Where the hell had that come from?_ "Egin was already dead when I found her. Anyway, what else could be done? It was Satan's child."

Kyodo's face darkened and so did his voice. "So chasing her all over Europe had nothing to do with it. And anyway, a demon kid is still just a kid." He didn't say another word as he left Shiro alone in the room.

The next morning Kyodo swaggered in to his room, bandaged fists firmly planted against his hip and irreverent grin firmly in place.

"Mornin' Shiro. Hope you slept well?"

Shiro coughed. "Just fine. How are you this morning Kyodo-san?" It would hardly help his situation to antagonize the boy, no matter how much he longed for it. There was something different about Kyodo today, beneath that irreverent glee was a thin tremor of tension.

"I've come to get you. We are going on a mission." Kyodo said evading the question.

"You're kidding me."

"Nope," the boy's grin was all teeth. "It's already been arranged. "We'll be meeting the others in conference room four."

Stepping out into the hall was Shiro's first real taste of celebrity. Everywhere he turned his name was being whispered and no two stories about him were the same; he had fought Satan and lived, he was lying to cover for the Egin's, he survived Blue Night by making a deal with the devil. On and on the rumors went each one more ridiculous than the last. He watched as Kyodo's bandaged hands curled into tight, angry fists as they passed the rumor mongers. They walked back towards the courtroom and into the modest sized conference room. There were two men seated at the long table; one wearing the standard exorcist uniform, the other wearing a cassock. Standing at the head of the table was his old friend Martina Cotton.

He had not seen Martina since she had adopted the Kirigakure girl. A few months later she had become pregnant with her first child and had retired from the Order. The last he had heard she and her husband had settled somewhere in the United States.

Martina started to speak in a very brisk fashion. "Shiro-san I am Martina Cotton Dragoon and Tamer Meister. We worked together before very briefly."

"Tracking down Orochi and a human child," he agreed.

Martina turned to introduce the other two men in the room.

"This is Father George Halloway, Doctor, just pulled out of retirement." Shiro greeted the man with a sedate nod. The Father was tall, wiry, and wrinkled with age. Despite this he moved easily and stood straight backed and proud.

Martina inclined her head towards the exorcist on his left. "This is Youta Izumi, an Aria." Izumi was a skinny boy with ridiculously spiked blonde hair. He appeared to be no older than Kyodo.

"Did they tell you anything about why you are here today?" Martina asked.

Shiro shot a look towards Kyodo. "No."

. "Right to the point then. We are being sent to investigate your report on the exorcism of Yuri Egin. First, we will deal with any demonic entity we find and second, we will retrieve Egin's body if we can."

_Damn_. He had been wondering when he would have to deal with this. "Why bring me along then if I'm not trusted?"

She smiled. "You are just a guide Shiro-san. Just point us in the right direction and we'll take care of the rest."

Shiro took a seat and listened to the briefing. Martina explained the gear they would be taking, gave them a review of the terrain, and went over one hundred other small details Shiro couldn't bother to care about. At the end of the meeting Kyodo passed each of the exorcists a small square of pig skin with detailed circles tattooed into the flesh, which according to Kyodo, would protect them from possession.

The next morning they met in the conference room all of them carrying packs filled with supplies suitable for a mountain hike. Martina, hunting rifle thrown casually over her shoulder, produced one of Mephisto's magic keys. She opened the conference room door letting in a blast of cold air. Where there had once been a warm dark hallway was now a familiar snow covered grove.

Shiro stepped onto the porch and stopped, blocking the people behind him. The glade was scorched and the familiar baked scent of ozone hung in the air. The cabin still stood, the trees still stood; but everything within view was covered in dark carbon char that was only partially covered by the freshly fallen snow. In the middle of this chaos was what once had been a brown bear, its body twisted unnaturally and engorged with decay. It had been dead long enough that scavengers had stripped away a substantial portion of its meat. The half charred state of the body was familiar to anyone who had survived Blue Night.

For a long time there was silence. Martina pushed Shiro out of the way and moved to inspect the area. Halloway grabbed her arm as she moved off the step and pulled her back. She tilted her head towards him frowning.

"Wait Martina. We need to take precautions, make sure that thing isn't still possessed." The priest moved forward with her. Shiro stepped off the porch behind them with Izumi and Kyodo keeping to the back of the group.

"What exactly are we going to do if it is still possessed?" Kyodo asked, his voice thick with sarcasm. Beneath that his voice held a faint quaver of fear.

Martina cocked an eyebrow at the boy and threw Shiro a questioning glance.

" Blue Night," was all Shiro said.

The tiny woman's eyes widened, her mouth making a soundless "o" of understanding. She pulled thin piece of paper out of her pocket, slit her palm with a wicked looking buck knife, and smeared her blood on the paper.

Her familiar appeared in a flash of red fur; the fox demon Reynardine. Standing to Martin's elbow she had to reach up to ruffle his felt tipped ears. "Check the bear for us." The fox head butted her gently before moving to circle and sniff the corpse. After a beat he backed away and barked. Martina followed a moment late, kicking the deformed body experimentally. There was a sound like raw steak hitting a kitchen counter. She shrugged, "There is nothing in this corpse."

She wrinkled her button nose as she inhaled. "Stay here." He watched her as she stepped past the clearing to take a look around the nearby forest. Reynardine trotted after her. Shiro wondered just how many weapons she had hidden on her as he watched them disappear.

"Try anything and I'll break both your legs." Kyodo cheerfully informed Shiro.

Izumi stood staring at the corpse, his skin taking on an unpleasant shade of green.

"Stop starin' son," Halloway said gently as he pulled Izumi away from the ravaged corpse.

Izumi choked, "It's just . . . that night . . ." he trailed off coughing.

"Some of the corpses of the possessed were deformed like this." Shiro supplied

Izumi looked up nodding sickly.

Shiro reached over and scraped some charred tree bark into his hand. "So we can assume Satan was here and may still be on the mountain, possessing animals whenever he needs a body."

There was a crunch of fresh snow as Martina and Reynardine returned. She didn't say a word, merely held a finger to her lips and motioned for them to follow. Just a few feet away were a small group of snowmen and hobgoblins nosing through the undergrowth.

Shiro crouched next to Martina as they crept closer. Reynardine was pawing impatiently at the snow, muscles tense and ready for action. "Martina, we think Satan might be on this mountain," he whispered. "Maybe we should head back."

She turned to stare at him. "We probably should, but then who else would they send out here to deal with this. We're it." She shrugged and turned back to watching demons.

So, two kids, two retirees, and a suspected traitor were the best the Vatican had to offer. It would be funny if it wasn't so terrifying.

Martina shifted in the snow. Reynardine slipped out from under her palms. He barked and leapt from cover scattering the demons. Still barking happily Reynardine chased them.

Martina cursed and laughed. "Damned willful idiot, I should have known better." She turned to the men. "Split up and follow them; Izumi stay with Halloway, Shiro you're with me. No arguments Kyodo." She snapped before the boy could protest.

When they were safely alone Martina grinned and stepped forward to pull Shiro into a hug, her curly brown hair barely reaching the center of his chest. Shiro allowed himself to smile. Martina never did give a damn for someone's personal space. She stepped away and gave him a hard slap on the back. Shiro was forced to take a step forward to counter the force of the blow. He hadn't realized how much he had missed the little woman.

She reached into the folds of her overcoat and passed him a pair of pistols. "I know how much you love to go unarmed. Sorry, this is the best I can do for now. Shiro, it's been to long."

"Yes, yes it has. How is Shura?"

"She is fine, doing well. She asks about you." Martina slapped him on the back again. "Fool man, why don't you talk with her instead of asking me?"

Martina was also one of the only humans who could make Shiro blush with embarrassment. "I've been busy."

Martina tilted her head and scrubbed a hand through her short curls. Her flattened lips and wide eyes told Shiro exactly what she thought of the situation. "Yes, busy fighting Satan. Honestly Shiro if you weren't such a terrible liar I never would have believed it."

"And if it is a lie?" Shiro probed.

"We'll find out soon enough won't we," Martina frowned. "In which case, well, I certainly don't have to tell you what will happen."

She didn't. He knew Martina, trusted her, but she would do her duty to the Order when it came right down to it. He didn't know the old man or the boys. He could not guess their loyalties or who they might be working for. He was certain they would put a bullet in his head and leave him buried in a shallow grave if they found evidence that he had lied on that mountain.

"I don't want any surprises Shiro. Are we going to find anything? I don't know how much I will be able to protect you." She was watching him, eyes suspicious and concerned all at once.

In that moment Shiro wanted to tell her. She was a mother; surely she would understand his motivations. He thought of those two little souls currently resting under the care of a powerful demon. He found that he was not willing to risk their well being no matter how much he trusted Martina. For now he resolved to say nothing.

"What do you know about the others?" Martina had been an inspector before she retired. She would have investigated all her teammates before the mission.

"Besides that Halloway is an obvious plant. Not much. Go back far enough and you'll find Halloway and Melchior are real buddy-buddy. The guy probably knows who is under that veil. There is nothing all that remarkable about the Izumi kid, just a brainy above average Aria."

Martina frowned and took a breath. "Kyodo's case is a little different. He was raised right here in the Vatican. No clue who his parents were or where he was from. He is an expert with magic circles. I certainly couldn't say where he learned them since the designs he uses aren't sanctioned by the Vatican. More to the point, he trained with Yuri Egin."

This would explain his odd reaction from yesterday. "Were they close?"

"Hard to say. Cardinal was pretty protective of his daughter."

They continued moving, following the well preserved tracks of a snowman. Despite the circumstances it felt nice to be out walking with a fellow exorcist he respected. He didn't have to worry about rumors or plots with Martina, if she had a problem with him she would just shoot him.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of swift paws running over snow. Reynardine appeared a moment later, his muzzle slick with demon blood. Martina ruffled his ears and clicked her tongue disapprovingly as if he were an overly large german shepherd. "And this old trickster, he never listens. He is worse than a child."

Shiro smirked, "Trouble controlling your pet?" Reynardine growled and gave him a reproving nip on the thigh.

"Not pet, partner," She corrected as Shiro rubbed the sore spot on his leg. "He does as he pleases, but he always looks out for me." Now she was preening.

The trees were starting to clear as they moved forward. They had come to the familiar cliff over looking Yuri's secluded cave. There was a herd of wild mountain goats browsing the valley below. Shiro hesitated, remembering the corpse in front of Yuri's cabin. Then he remembered Martina's words in the underbrush. He would not be able to stop her from descending the cliff; all he could do was back her up.

Reynardine cleared the demon's tracks with one leap and looked up at them expectantly from the bottom of the cliff. Together they eased their way down the slippery slope and approached the mountain goats quietly. Reynardine moved forward and circled the nervous goats.

An aged male with two wickedly carved horns raised its head and snorted when he noticed their approach. The beasts were watching them now. Shiro took stock of the solid muscles, thick brown fur, and two wickedly curved horns protruding from its skull. The old man eyed the humans, his ears twitching back and forth nervously.

Martina hummed appreciatively, watching the beasts with a gamesman's admiration. She hadn't noticed the demons tracks had disappeared. He saw Reynardine crouch down growl, his fur pricked up along the length of his lithe body.

Shiro turned to warn Martina when the old man raised his head and shrieked. His legs trembled and blood poured from his eyes and nostrils. The animal backpedaled like it was trying to escape, heedlessly crashing in to its herd mates. Shiro grabbed Martina's arm and made a half hearted attempt to escape. A moment later the goat burst into blue flames.

Martina swore and ran to grab Reynardine by the scruff as he lunged forward. Shiro cursed and in that moment a blue fireball exploded in front of their eyes.

Reynardine surged forward as the exorcists were blown back. He raced through the snow dodging the flaming bodies of the goat's herd mates. As he moved the foxes shadow detached from his paws. The fox charged headlong towards Satan, the shadow circled around behind the possessed goat. Reynardine leapt to the side dodging a stream of flame and his shadow attacked the goats exposed back. Shadow and Satan tumbled head over heels. Reynardine moved in to attack. As the goat made unsteady attempts to rise to its feet Reynardine charged and head butted the beasts flank sending it sprawling once more. Shadow and fox continued to assault the possessed goat careful to never linger in the blue flames for too long.

Behind the battle Shiro was just starting to shake his vision clear. He turned towards Martina and bent to examine her. She had knocked her head against something when she fell. There was a shallow gash along her scalp. She stirred as he shook her awake. As she eased herself up he fumbled through her dropped pack for a flare. A moment later a magnesium bright burst of flame rose above the trees.

"Can you fight?" Shiro demanded as he turned to Martina.

She was already shouldering her weapon. Both exorcists watched Reynardine and his shadow, they were moving slower now as they tired. Martina raised her sights, aimed, and fired two blessed rounds into the goat's barrel chest. The beast staggered backwards buying precious seconds for Reynardine's retreat.

The fox sagged, strength spent, great pink tongue rolling from his mouth as he panted. He was singed and great patches of his fur had been burnt off. He released a sharp bark and his shadow returned to its proper place.

Shiro and Martina readied themselves. Satan was preparing for another attack.


	5. Chapter 5

Some Gore in this chapter- Scroll below the page break if you don't want to read.

The verse used is Psalm 91 from KJV Bible.

Reliable sources have informed me that this fic needs MORE COWBELL. Sorry to those of you with a burning desire for more cowbell, there will be none in this chapter.

I own nothing.

* * *

Satan charged. The beasts flaming hooves were pounding across the slush and mud, crushing the burning bodies of the goats that lay in his path. He was heading directly for Reynardine.

Without thinking Martina sprinted across the slushy earth trying to reach her exhausted and wounded partner. Shiro followed her. The wily fox pushed to his feet, teeth bared, hackles rising.

Reynardine wheeled around and ran in the opposite direction, guiding the possessed goat away from the exorcists and back towards the shadowed cliff face. As he neared the stone base he sped up and jumped. Reynardine was swallowed up by the shadow. Satan crashed head first into the rock face. The force of the impact snapped the goat's neck and shattered one of its horns.

Martina and Shiro skidded through the slush trying to stop the momentum of their charge. While the goat staggered back from the cliff the exorcists raised their guns and fired. Blessed rounds were emptied into the still mobile carcass as it careened across the slushy ground. The bullets crashed into the beast tearing flesh and shattering bone. It did not stop the beast from turning to face them.

The creature moved forward on pulped, bloodied limbs. Its head was dangling awkwardly; the jagged bone was protruding from the split hide of its neck. The beast took two slow steps forward and stopped. Shiro fought the dreamy haze of unreality threatening to overwhelm him. The mutilated corpse was almost cartoonish as it stood dripping blood. He watched the dead animals lips twitch and its eyes swivel back and forth in its skull. The limp head flopped almost comically with every step Satan took. The dead lips parted and pulled back in the parody of a smile, as if the beast had sensed what Shiro was thinking. Shiro felt the first sick nails of fear curl around his stomach.

There was the sound of meat splitting. Shiro gagged as the soft underbelly of the creature bust open spewing intestine and black ichor into the snow. The smell was unbearable; the flesh of the dead goats mixed with the perfume sweet smell of decay and the harsh tang of blood. The demon moved forward carelessly trailing blood, and shit, and organs behind him. Satan turned setting his gaze fully on the two exorcists.

Shiro swallowed down the bile rising in his throat and forced himself to watch. This poor beast, like the exorcists at the Vatican, was being torn apart by the power of the demon within him. If they could only string him along long enough Satan's hijacked body would be destroyed. It was their only hope of survival.

There were shouts in the distance. Drawn by the flare and the sound of bullets the other exorcists came charging over the snowy hillside opposite the cliff. Kyodo was in the lead followed by Izumi and Halloway.

Kyodo skidded and nearly fell when he caught sight of the goat haloed in blue flames. He hesitated for only a moment before charging forward again, unwinding the bandages as he ran. Izumi and Halloway sprinted towards Shiro and Martina. Halloway kept a firm hand on the clearly shaken Izumi. Shiro and Martina kept their weapons ready to fire, covering Kyodo as he surged forward to attack. The three of them crouched behind Shiro as they spoke.

Shiro watched the headstrong Kyodo, impressed in spite of himself. The boy's form was perfect as he as he buried his knuckles right between Satan's unbalanced horns. The demon skidded back on its hind legs. It recovered and shook its head, ears twitching.

"Shiro," Martina yelled, "verse." Satan had lowered his head, the flames around him growing. The stink of blood and rot was overwhelming.

"Which verse?" Shiro yelled back. She couldn't seriously believe that Satan's fatal verse was something they taught in school.

"Try something fool. Shooting this thing is like pissing on a forest fire." To demonstrate she took an ineffectual shot at the goat's body.

Then they were burning. Shiro was engulfed in the hot flash of blue fire. He screamed and dropped frantically pawing at his clothes in an attempt to ease the bite of the flames. Blinded by the glare blue fire and mind numbing pain Shiro distantly listened for his fellow exorcists. The forms of the three exorcists behind him were blurred behind a curtain of blue fire. Shiro heard the rush of hooves over snow. Kyodo cried out and a moment later there was a heavy thud of a body hitting solid ground.

Somewhere far away a young, strained voice was choking out familiar words through pain.

_He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty._

_I will say of the lord, __He is__ my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust._

_Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, __and__ from the noisome pestilence._

_He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth __shall be thy__ shield and buckler._

The sting of the flames eased. All Shiro could feel was the sting of cold air on his abused skin. Through bleary shocked eyes Shiro could see Izumi choking on the words of the verse. Shiro blinked the glare out of his eyes. Izumi had placed himself between Satan and Kyodo.

_Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; __nor__ for the arrow __that__ flieth by day;_

Pale with shock and pain the boy continued reciting the verse.

_Nor__ for the pestilence __that__ walketh in darkness; __nor__ for the destruction __that__ wasteth at noonday._

Satan was staring at Izumi, black blood pooling from his mouth.

_A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; __but__ it shall not come nigh thee._

Izumi pressed his hands together and kept chanting.

_Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked._

Satan staggered, listing sideways for a moment. Then the beast straightened eyes

lit with a rage focused entirely on Izumi.

_Because thou hast made the lord, __which is__ my refuge, __even__ the most High, thy habitation;_

Martina was rising from the snow cursing as she reached for her useless rifle, the need for action overriding sense. Kyodo lay helpless behind Izumi still half dazed from the viscous blow to his ribs. Izumi was holding his ground, the knowledge of his own death in his eyes.

_There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling._

The earth shook as Satan's flames flared right as a supernova around the helpless body of the possessed animal. Izumi faltered, his cracked voice quavering with the next verse.

_For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways._

Shiro saw with certainty that Izumi had reached his limit. He searched his memory for the next line and spoke before Satan could react.

_They shall bear thee up in __their__ hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone._

Izumi jumped at the sudden interruption, losing his concentration. Those awful unnatural eyes turned to Shiro. He felt a probing cold slip into his mind and then slide away again. He shook it off. If the young and untried Izumi could manage as long as he had, then Shiro could certainly find enough courage to finish the job.

_Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet._

Satan was on him in a second. Shiro side stepped the initial charge and backpedaled. The beast slid on the slush for a moment before turning to attack. There was no time for him to dodge. Shiro simply reached through the flames protecting Satan's body and took a horn in each hand.

_Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name._

There was still strength left in the mutilated body. Shiro held on, matching Satan movement for movement, turning with the beast as it twisted its head trying to slide out of Shiro's grasp. He gritted his teeth against the pain of his burning hands. The exorcist choked out the last lines.

_He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I __will be__ with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him.__With long life will I satisfy him, and shew him my salvation._

At the last syllable the goat shrieked and sagged in Shiro's hands, the weight of the dead body nearly dragging him to the ground. Shiro released the horns allowing the mutilated creature to fall.

* * *

With the threat gone Reynardine leapt from the shadow at the base of the cliff. Martina knelt next to him and wrapped her arms around the wiry fur in an embrace. When she released him she playfully slapped his snout with two fingers.

Halloway and Izumi were checking over Kyodo. The young man was seated in the snow waiting patiently while Halloway assessed his injuries.

Shiro stood examining the burnt skin of his palms. He could see the imprint of the goat's thick horns marked into his skin. Strangely enough the rest of his skin was unblemished, the same was true fro all the exorcists. Not a one of them had suffered any burns. He looked towards the two boys that he had so completely misjudged. They would have all been dead if it wasn't for those two.

"Good job you two," Shiro offered as Izumi finished wrapping Kyodo's ribs. Halloway was already checking on Martina.

Kyodo looked up and frowned. "I don't need you to tell me that useless old man." He held Shiro's gaze a moment longer before standing and turning to face Izumi. Kyodo held out his hand. "I appreciate what you did back there. If you ever need anything remember Naoto Kyodo."

Izumi blinked, a pleased smile crossing his face, "Yes, Kyodo-san." He put his hand in Kyodo's. Still bare chested Shiro could see the solid black arcs of Kyodo's tattoos as they peaked over the top of his bandages. He wondered just how extensive were those tattoos and what each of those circles represented. His eyes fell on the circles at the back of Kyodo's hands. They must have been powerful if they allowed Kyodo to fight a demon bare handed. Shiro looked down at his own mangled hands. It had taken everything in him to hold the demon in place while he recited those last critical lines of verse.

Halloway had finished checking Martin's head injury and was busy wrapping Shiro's hands when the tiny woman approached them, her curls sticking haphazardly from her bandages.

Martina approached, her head bandaged. "Shiro, those demons lead us right to this spot." She was frowning a little.

"This was a trap. Satan was waiting here and he had a handy supply of warm bodies."

"This is the place then," she gestured toward the cave. Shiro nodded. There wasn't much point in denying it.

"Wait . . ." Izumi spoke up. "That verse, it probably wouldn't have sent Satan back to Gehenna. It probably only just disrupted his control over the host body. I think he is still nearby."

"We have another problem," It was Halloway this time. He was holding up the charred remains of the pig skin Kyodo had given him. "It was the only thing on me that go burned. What about the rest of you?"

One by one they searched and found that each of the pig skins were damaged, negating the protection they might have provided.

Martina tapped her fingers against the top of her head. Shiro could see her calculating the importance of this mission against the injuries they had already sustained and the possibility that they could be possessed by Satan.

"All right. We need to be quick. Kyodo you and I are going to check for the body. Halloway you are coming with us. Izumi and Shiro stay put and keep chanting that holy verse. It might buy some time if Satan is still poking around. Rey, keep an eye out for our Aria's," She shouldered her weapon and walked off toward the cave.

Reynardine shot Shiro a pointed glare and stalked around the clearing in front of the cave, ears perked and nostrils flaring.. He and Izumi started to chant. The air was stagnant and dank with the smell of burnt flesh, and blood. It would be a relief to get back up the cliff face and into the fresh air.

Soon enough Halloway's voice rose over the hum of their chanting. "I'm ready Martina," he called from the cave. Reynardine's ear's perked as he rose to join his partner. Shiro and Izumi followed still murmuring the verse. They had not taken more than two steps when two angry voices erupted from the cave.

"Outta my way!"

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Martina and Kyodo's voices mixed together in a chorus of outrage. A moment later Kyodo raged out of the mouth of the cave hauling Martina and Halloway with him.

There was an explosion. For the millionth time that day Shiro was thrown on his ass by a concussive shock wave.

Orange flame was spouting from the cave entrance. Martina wriggled free from Kyodo, her face red with rage. Kyodo was just starting to rise to his feet when Martina pointed to him and yelled, "Rey."

The fox obligingly knocked Kyodo back to the ground and sat on him careless of the boy's broken ribs. "What happened?" Izumi asked breathlessly.

"He did something with those circles of his," Martina was snarling now. Shiro had rarely seen her so angry.

Kyodo remained pinned beneath the demon face stern and resolute. "You got what you wanted. I sure as hell wasn't going to let you take her back."

There was a long, tense silence. Martina swore and kicked at the snow. Halloway had a cool, calculating look in his eyes. Shiro was completely at a loss. Without realizing it this young man had solved all his problems. The intense head of Kyodo's flames would swallow any evidence of the boy's birth. Yuri's children would be safe for now. It was Kyodo who was in danger. Shiro would be free to raise Yuri's children; all he needed to do was let Naoto Kyodo take the fall for him.

With guilty hands he helped Martina disarm and restrain Kyodo. Reynardine remained close, watching over Martina despite his pain and exhaustion. They raised Kyodo to his feet. As they moved back through the forest Shiro felt something cold and slimy brush against his mind. He shook it off and fell into step with the other exorcists, he and Izumi taking turns chanting the psalm.

Exhaustion and injuries had slowed their progress. Halfway back to the cabin they were forced to stop and rest. Even the normally energetic Martina looked haggard and weary. The trip so far had been tense, the four of them barely speaking to one another. They were all disheartened by the day's events.

Martina squatted in the snow the butt of her rifle braced against the ground. She never took her eyes of Kyodo who was leaning against the rough bark of an old tree, face angry and determined. Shiro shivered. He felt a chill, like a caterpillar crawling up the back of his neck. He felt like someone was watching him.

The soft sound of Izumi's voice faded as Shiro let his mind drift. His guilt-ridden, over tired mind conjured up the memory of Yuri's voice.

_Why Shiro, where are my sons?_

Shiro tried to blink away his exhaustion. His companions were all lost in their own thoughts. Izumi's voice was starting to crack and waver as he recited the verse.

"I'll take over for a bit." Shiro offered. Izumi nodded gratefully and reached for his canteen wetting his dry mouth with great gulps of water.

_I'm sorry_ Shiro thought. And he was. _Your boys are safe. They will be taken care of. I swear it._

_You're sorry_. Imaginary Yuri's voice was cracking with tears. _Do you know, can you even understand just what it was you did to me? To my children?_

_I'm sorry. _He hadn't understood, not then.

Yuri was laughing hysterically through her tears. _You self centered son of a bitch. I'm dead because of you_

_I'm sorry_

_It's not enough Shiro_

He silently agreed. It would never be enough. It hurt to hear those words spoken in her voice. _I know._

_You owe me, Shiro. You owe me a life._

Shiro's voice stumbled over the lines. He recovered quickly and continued with the psalm. _I do, Yuri. I owe you._

There was a feeling of triumph not his own. Izumi was watching him with a worried look. "Is everything all right Shiro-san?" he asked softly.

Shiro rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Did something happen?"

"You stopped." Shiro hadn't even realized.

Reynardine was glaring at him. The fox growled, singed fur rising along his back. Now Martina was watching him, her sharp eyes narrowed. "Shiro," her voice was a warning. She was rising from her crouch.

_You owe me a life Shiro._ It was no longer Yuri's voice he was hearing.

There was a crack like the sound of a glass breaking. The world went white, then dark. Shiro was overtaken by vertigo. He closed his eyes against the nausea rolling through his gut. Finally, the spinning stopped. He slowly opened his eyes and found himself standing in a church.

There were men and women wearing the dark colors of mourning. They towered over him. He looked up, saw his reflection mirrored in the polished surface of a gold cross. A little girl's face stared back at him.

* * *

To My Guest reviewer from May 8th :

Thanks so much for taking the time to comment. I am trying to keep to the spirit of the original work as much as I can even if some of the details in my story contradict cannon.

It bothers me that there are almost no stories involving the men who helped Shiro raise Rin and Yukio. I think anyone who would knowingly help raise the children of Satan would have some pretty compelling reasons for doing so. Their reasons for choosing to support Shiro make for some interesting story telling in my opinion.


	6. Chapter 6

Yes, this chapter is jarring and a little trippy. It was meant to be. But, I promise there will be an explanation in the next chapter. Bare with me we are getting close to the end of the Shiro vs. Satan arc.

I did have some formatting errors uploading this chapter. I believe I caught them all, but if you see any please let me know. :)

Special thanks to jtm21 for taking time to beta this chapter and for all the helpful suggestions.

* * *

Yuri was in a church. She watched the sunlight stream through the pretty stained glass windows. High above the alter there was a picture of Jesus with a lamb. She liked that one the best. When the man at the altar began to speak she pressed tiny fists into the soft folds of her black dress. She rubbed her thumbs against the material. She liked the feeling of the rough fibers against her skin. .

Yuri tried hard to listen to what the man was saying, but his words were too big and too confusing. She stared at his mouth, watching the plump lips as he spoke. There were harsh voices whispering all around her. She missed her mommy.

She looked up, past the robed man. There was a casket, dark wood with fluffy, white lining. She could only her mommy's head from where she was standing. She was pale and far too still to be sleeping.

The man stopped talking and the people began to file out of the church. She could hear the whispers better as they passed by her.

_Bastard_

_Whore_

She didn't know what those words meant.

Finally she stood alone in the pews. A man came. He said she was going to live with her father now. Before she went to kiss Mommy goodbye. Mommy was cold, her skin wasn't soft anymore. Yuri did her best not to cry.

* * *

Her father's house was huge. There were more room's than Yuri could count and huge railed stairways big enough for ten people to stand side by side on a single step. Yuri would run her fingers over the surface of the stairwells and they would come away clean without a spec of dust. The dining room was filled with delicate china, fine crystal glasses, and shiny silver for each meal. The hallways were filled with sculptures and paintings. Yuri would stare open mouthed when she walked by them. Yuri liked the garden best of all. The smell of flowers reminded her of her mother.

There were many people living in her father's house. There was a butler and servants. There was a man to teach her Italian. There was a man to teach her German. A pretty lady came to her room to play with her every day. She never got to see Daddy. She wondered if Daddy was mad at her.

And Yuri was lonely. One day she felt so sad she couldn't stop crying. She curled on the center of her too big bed and buried her face in her pillow. Her chest hurt and her head hurt. She didn't want to learn German or Italian. She didn't want the big staircases and the fine china. She wanted her mommy and her tiny bedroom in her old house. Yuri curled up and begged for someone to come help her.

There was a sound like bird's wings. Yuri could smell smoke and iron. She looked up.

"Are you an angel?" Yuri asked. The woman was beautiful.

_Humans have called me that before_, her voice was stern and echoed in Yuri's head. _I am a messenger, a guide, and a warrior. I am known to your family as Brynhildr._

Yuri wiped away tears from her puffy eyes. She stared at the woman. Her robes were white and her hair was shiny. She wanted to touch the woman. There was a great round shield strapped to the woman's back. Yuri's eyes lingered on the silvery sword buckled to the woman's waist.

"Did you come to help me?" Yuri asked shyly.

_I came to fulfill my pledge to you and your family._

"Oh . . ." Yuri wasn't certain she understood. "What does that mean?"

The angel watched her. Yuri cringed. She could see the angel was angry. _I am repaying a debt; I am here to serve you._

Yuri sat up straight and started to speak. She told the angel about Mommy and Father. She talked about how unhappy she was in her new home. The angel listened. Yuri wondered what her angel was thinking.

One the first day at her new school the teacher called her to the front of the class.. She felt heavy and strange. She froze in her seat; she was afraid. She pushed back into the chair, wishing she was invisible. Everyday Yuri would go home and talk to Brynhildr.

Her father came to visit her one night. He was angry. He didn't like what he had heard from her teacher's. Next time she promised herself she would try harder to make him proud

"You should not trust that man," Brynhildr said.

But that was stupid. She would always be able to trust Father.

* * *

This was the story her angel told her:

_Once upon a time the mighty God Wotan fell in love with a Valkyrie. Again and again he pursued her affections and again and again she rejected him. Enraged Wotan cast this willful woman from Valhalla. He placed her in a magical sleep and imprisoned her in a ring of fire._

_'Only a man without fear will be able to cross these flames and claim this woman for his wife' was Wotan's decree._

_One day bold Siegfried, slayer of the dragon Fafner, was told by a woodbird of a woman sleeping on a mountain surrounded by a ring of fire. Bold Siegfried set out to find this woman hoping that she would be able to teach him the meaning of fear. When he passed through the circle of fire and beheld the first woman he had ever seen, Siegfried felt fear for the first time in his young life. In desperation he bent to kiss the woman, waking her from her magic sleep._

_Hesitant at first Brynhildr came to accept Siegfried's affections. She surrendered her shield and horse and bade Siegfried to continue his adventures. As a pledge of their bond Siegfried gave Brynhildr a ring stolen form Fafner's horde._

_Siegfried traveled until he came to the hall of Gunther, King of the Burgundians. When he first set eyes on Gutrune, the king's sister he was so taken by her beauty that the memory of Brynhildr flew from his mind. Instead he plotted with the king, promising to make Brynhildr Gunther's wife._

_Siegfried disguised himself as Gunther and returned to Brynhildr. He braved the circle of flames and overpowered the woman, claiming her for the king. He took the pledge ring from Brynhildr and gave it to Gutrune._

_When Brynhildr saw Gutrune wearing the ring Siegfried had given her, she understood how she had been deceived and her rage knew no bounds._

_She built a huge funeral pyre in the hall of King Gunther and lit the dried tinder with a firebrand. The fires consumed the hall, ended the lives of Gunther and Gutrune, and consumed Siegfried. When her vengeance was complete, Brynhildr surrendered herself to those same flames. The only creature who survived the flames was the young daughter conceived on the night Siegfried deceived Brynhildr._

It is said that Brynhildr's soul remained tied to Assiah, that she serves and protects the young maids who share her blood.

* * *

Years passed. Yuri stopped wishing for her old life in Japan and allowed her Father to mold her into a fine member of the Egin family. Like her mother he insisted that she be trained as an exorcist. Yuri found she didn't fit in with the other exorcists any better than with the normal children from her old school. They frightened her. When they smiled and greeted her she froze, wondering when the insults would start. And soon enough they did . . .

"Yuri Egin is a bitch"

"Does she think she's better than everyone else?"

"Why doesn't she ever talk to anyone?"

She didn't think she would ever understand.

During her first week at the school she met another misfit, Naoto Kyodo. He was brazen and fierce. He also went out of his way to avoid the other students. One afternoon during lunch break he sat across from her as she ate. He said nothing to her that first afternoon and returned to sit with her the next day. It was three days before they had their first conversation.

He started passing her notes during their classes. At first they were perfectly congenial. How are you? How was your day? Mr. Tombasco sure is an idiot. Over time they became more personal. As he grew to trust her he wrote in general terms about his childhood at the Vatican. He had been just as lonely as she was.

* * *

Yuri struggled to find her talent amongst the other exorcists. She learned about Tamer's and summoning circles. However, Brynhildr refused to answer her summons. I am not a toy to be put on display, child. She tried her hand at other Meisters. She was a terrible Dragoon and even worse as a Knight. She had problems remembering the verses used by Aria's and the procedures Doctors used. Her failure fueled more rumors.

"Idiot"

"Klutz"

"Rich man's kid gets special treatment."

It was easier to ignore now that she had Naoto. They ate together every day. She looked forward to the notes and letters he would leave her. Soon they were studying together and meeting after classes. They spent entire afternoons on a bench on the campus green. Some days they would talk for hours and some days they would sit together in comfortable silence.

* * *

"Well you are kind of askin' for it," Naoto said. It was a beautiful day; a touch too warm and not a cloud in the sky.

She frowned, "How am I asking for it? I barely talked to those kids."

"That's why," He grumbled impatiently, "You don't say anything and when anyone comes near you, you get this 'get the hell away from me' look on your face."

She looked down, fingers entangled in her skirt. Was that really what she was like? The sun baked concrete was starting to burn her legs. Maybe there was something wrong with her.

"Ah, hey, don't get all depressed again. Here, look." She lifted her head. Naoto placed one bandaged hand over hers and leaned in for a quick kiss. The touch of his lips was so swift that she barely understood what had happened. When she looked at him, his expression was nearly as surprised as hers.

Naoto scrubbed his hand through his hair. "Ahhh dammit." He stamped off leaving Yuri by herself.

Not long after that her Father grew suspicious of their relationship and Kyodo was sent to Japan to complete his education. Yuri had kept every letter he had ever written to her, even the ones where he complained about his Aria instructor in painful detail. After he was sent away she placed them all in an old cookie tin and hid them in a hidden corner of the Vatican library. She didn't want her Father to take them away.

* * *

Time passed. Yuri threw herself into her studies. She found that she was able to summon Brynhildr's servants chief among them the great stallion, Grane. After three years of study she obtained her Tamer Meister. Her Father accepted the news with the well practiced detachment of the elite. She accepted his indifference without complaint, but her heart ached. Her accomplishments meant next to nothing without someone to share them with and in Naoto's absence there was no one else but her Father.

It was shortly after receiving her pin that she first met Shiro Fujimoto. He was a tall wiry man, the kind that seemed to cast darkness wherever he went. He had looked at her with cold dispassionate eyes, measured her with a glance, and then dismissed her. He seemed no different then any of the other thugs her Father hired from the Order. If things had worked out different she might have forgotten him completely.

Yuri was sent to investigate a series of mysterious disappearances in a small village in Austria. She hadn't thought anything of the job at the time. She left for the mountains with her teammates, a group of men and women she barely knew. As they were trekking up a mountain path to the site of the last disappearance Brynhildr cried a warning. She felt her angel raise her shield defensively. Then there was a scream of pain and an intense heat at her back. She turned, too slowly and saw the blue fire for the first time. She watched one by one as the members of her team died in a halo of blue fire. When it was her turn the flames passed over her were no hotter than her bath water.

There was another voice, sad and confused, speaking as those men died. She backtracked down the mountain alone and sent a report back to the Vatican. She lied about the exorcist's death and forgot to report the sighting of blue fire. It was her first real act of defiance. It was the voice, confused and lonely as it echoed through her mind, something about it reminded her of Naoto.

* * *

Satan was with her now nestled in her head, in her body. It was a strange sensation, sharing herself so completely with another creature. There were no secrets between them. The demon settled content to observe, to experience the world through her.

Satan was curious, intelligent, and had no sympathy for the needs of mortal creatures. He had no frame of reference. He was a creature of spirit trying to understand the limitations of flesh, blood, and bone. She tried to help him understand.

This is death, she taught the demon what it meant to feel your mother's cold empty skin and the deep grief of being alone.

This is life, she told Satan as she cradled a broke winged bird between her palms. Feel this warmth, feel this heartbeat.

Like a grasping, curious child the demon wanted to know more.

* * *

When Brynhildr was silent for a month straight Yuri became suspicious. She knew for certain when she missed her period for the second month in a row. She felt full, like a ripened fruit, and if she allowed herself to feel any more happiness that joy would flood the banks and disappear.

* * *

_Assiah is a strange place_, Satan said in one of his more talkative moments.

"How so?" She had grown large with the new life developing within her. Her back hurt, her feet were constantly swollen, and the pressure on her lungs and bladder was unbearable. She was beginning to understand that joy and sadness each carried their own weight.

_And you humans are the strangest of all. _He was in a good mood. It made Yuri smile._ Why must you always hold everything in?_

"Hold everything in?" This far from the city she could see the silvery splash of the milky way in the night time sky.

_Yes. When I am angry, I let myself rage until I am not angry. When I am happy I laugh as long as I please. When I want something I simply take it. Right now you are happy, but you are looking for reasons not to be happy. Why do you do that?_

She didn't know, could not give him an answer.

Satan curled around her mind and huffed in frustration.

* * *

Shiro Fujimoto paid her a visit. She surprised herself with the force of her refusal. She would not give up on the life she had built for herself. Still, when he left her happiness was marred with a new anxiety. She wondered how long she would be allowed to live like this.

She was hopeful when Shiro Fujimoto left. When Shiro returned her hope fled. Rage rose within her when she saw that cold, arrogant man trying to murder the friends she had made during her time with Satan. The demon within her sensed her rage and rose from within the small corner of her mind he had claimed for herself. She was lost, drowning in the power Satan had summoned. He had always tried to protect her from the full force of his strength and when faced with it for the first time she passed out.

When she woke tucked in to the bed with that man still sitting beside her. She could smell ozone and nicotine on his clothes and noted the harsh rents in the fabric of his overcoat. She knew she would not be left to live on her own anymore. As soon as he was able Shiro forced her to return to the Vatican.

It was impossible to hide her pregnancy from the doctors or her Father. Fujimoto's look of denial and confusion was almost comical as he was hauled off to the dungeons. It would have been so easy to finger him as the Father of her children, but in the end she couldn't do it. He was not an innocent, but he was not guilty of getting her pregnant.

More than that she wanted her Father to understand, these children, his grandchildren, were a blessing, and they were hope. She hoped that she could convince her Father that Satan was far from the threat the Order made him out to be.

She thought her father would listen. She thought her father loved her. She thought so right up until he ordered her execution.

* * *

_Blasphemer_

_Whore_

The Grigori stared with accusing eyes. The night was consumed by blue flames.

* * *

Satan refused to possess her after that night, afraid that his presence would weaken her faster, would endanger the new life growing within her. He staid close, his presence a brush of cold against her mind and the harsh tang of sun baked concrete.

She took a boat to Marseilles and traveled north. In Luxemburg City she saw Mephisto Pheles grinning at her through a crowd of people. She knew then that she would never be safe from the Vatican or the Order's hunters. She ran, confused and frightened until she came back to her tiny cabin in Austria. There was no place else she felt safe.

Despair filled her, exhaustion ruled her thoughts. Each day she felt closer and closer to her death. The hobgoblins and snowmen she had befriended hovered and worried over her in a way her father never had.

* * *

She had a nightmare, alone and blinded by darkness she reached into the dark. A hobgoblin floated toward her, bulbous eyes eerily knowledgeable as she squeezed it against her chest. The next morning she woke to the glow of blue flowers and the smell of sun baked concrete.

* * *

Child birth was pain. Alone in the cave she strained and pushed through the agony. She squatted, balancing her weight against the cave wall, reaching to assist her child. She was so dizzy and exhausted she barely noticed the strange glow surrounding her first born.

Two hours later she felt the insistent push of her second child.

* * *

Wrapped warm with her beautiful boys nestled against her she allowed herself to smile. Yukio who had inherited her freckles and Rin was haloed in his fathers blue fire. They were so tiny, so perfect. Her heart filled to bursting. They would live. They would be strong.

All around her the blue flowers pulsed and danced with renewed vigor. Each hour he spent in Assiah without a host body weakened Satan further. Still, he waited hoping she would recover enough that they could be together again. Yuri knew he was being foolishly optimistic. She was going to die. Satan would take care of the children.

* * *

Shiro Fujimoto and Mephisto Pheles found their cave. Yuri could feel Satan rage at the sight of the exorcist and the demon, but without a body he could do nothing.

Shiro Fujimoto was a crow, a black cat, a mirror shattered to a million pieces. She was angry, hopeless. How dare he show himself to her now, this man who had taken away her happiness. It was cruel. Now there was no hope that her children would survive.

She fought past her humiliation and despair clinging to that one fragile wish that her children would survive. She would have begged if she thought it would do any good. She needed to make him understand that these two tiny boys were worth protecting, that their quasi-demonic nature did notmake them evil or a threat to humanity. With her last strained breath she poured the final bit of her strength into her plea.

* * *

Brynhildr is a character from Germanic mythology. Her story is told in a few different places; the Volsung saga, the Nibelunglied, and the Edda to name a few. Her story in each of these versions differs in the details while the important plot points remain basically unchanged. I have made a few changes to her myth for the purposes of this story. I relied mostly on her portrayal in Wagner's opera trilogy "Der Ring Des Nibelungen" .

To my Guest review on June 13th: Thanks for saying so! And thanks for taking the time to review.

I am a little bit self conscious about my actions scenes. I have to admit I am not all that comfortable writing them. It's something I hope to work on while I am writing this fic. I am a little surprised that the last chapter was so well received. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!


	7. Chapter 7

Shiro felt strange, detached, like he was experiencing the world from the bottom of a swimming pool. There was a strange nagging thought wriggling at the back of his mind, it was something big and important. But when he tried to focus on it, the thought slipped past him like a tadpole through river water.

He was suspended in darkness so complete he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. He couldn't feel his arms and legs. He couldn't hear anything, nor could he detect any scent that might help determine where he was. Yet he knew that there was something moving out in the darkness, something ancient and angry was watching him.

It was close now, that thing moving in the empty space around him. He could feel it brushing up against him. The creature's ferocious rage was mixed with deep satisfaction.

"Did you like what you saw?" The voice was not human. It echoed with the power of another world.

_ Gehenna_. As soon as he remembered that word he knew who owned that otherworldly voice. He searched his memories for a name. "Satan."

"Very good," the creature's satisfaction deepened. It moved closer to him, swept around him like a cat circling a mouse.

Shiro said nothing. His thoughts bobbed disjointedly across his mind; he was dying in a cave, he was stealing a sword from some Buddhist monks, he was pregnant with a demon's child, he was standing in a courtroom waiting to be judged. Sometimes he was a man, sometimes he was a woman. He couldn't force his mind to put the puzzle pieces of those jagged memories into a coherent order. The presence of Satan prowling around him was not helping.

"These feelings . . .I like them. I like your fear. I like that you're helpless," Satan was speaking again. "I wonder what other interesting things I can find in here."

Shiro groaned miserably, unsure of what was happening or why it was happening. All he knew was that he had died afraid and in pain with his two sons tucked against his side. He wondered if they were still alive.

Satan's disgust flashed through him as he struggled against the memory of his death. "Maybe now you can understand, now that you are feeling her pain, just what you and your Order have done."

The demon growled in frustration. "You're useless to me if you can't even remember your name. Remember Shiro, remember and regret. Remember you owe me a life."

The darkness around Shiro started to lighten. Slowly, he felt his body form around him. He flexed his fingers slowly, his muscles tensing for a fight he knew he could not win. Slowly his sense of smell and hearing came back to him. Something shifted in the air around him and he was falling forward…

And he found himself in another room. His bare feet were brushing against rough, filthy carpet fibers. He tripped, startled by the sudden loss of height and caught himself on hands that were unmarked with scars or callouses. The room stank of urine and cigarette smoke.

He was a child again wearing an old t shirt that hung to his knees and old hand me down sweat pants that sagged around his hips. This was his room; a small twin bed with an odd mishmash of holed blankets and a collection of shiny river washed stones lined the windowsill.

There was a crash from behind his bedroom door. The sound of shattered porcelain and the crunch of crushed glass drifted into his bedroom. A woman's voice, his mother, was shrieking over the sound of dishes breaking. He knew what would come next, what always came next.

Shiro grabbed a blanket and ran into the safety of his closet, tightly shut the door. He pulled the holed material over his head and crouched with his knees pressed against his forehead. He could hear his mother's footsteps in the hallway. He covered his ears with his hands and clutched the blanket.

The door to his room opened. Loud, angry steps came to the closet door. He shrank against the wall. The closet door slid open. He squeezed his eyes shut. A thick, fat hand reached into the closet. The plump fingers wrapped around his arm and yanked him back into his bedroom. . .

Shiro fell forward. He caught himself on large calloused hands. He landed on a bed of prickly brown grass. His feet were protected with a pair of thick boots. He was wearing the exorcists uniform. The tie still felt tight and awkward against his neck.

He was shaking with exhaustion and breathless from a hard fight. He stumbled back to his feet. A Gajasura rose in front of him, its huge body towering above the trees. The demon lumbered closer, shaking the earth as it approached Shiro. It was covered in a thick grey hide that effectively protected it from any direct attacks.

Shiro looked around for his teammates. Two were dead, crushed to a bloody pulp beneath the feet of the elephant demon. One man was still standing, wobbling drunkenly as he tried to stay on his feet.

Shiro stood frozen, transfixed by the demon's human face. The strange creature was staring at him with bulbous dark eyes set in an elephant sized human skull. The beast smiled beatifically, two blood darkened tusks extending from its mouth. Fear washed over Shiro, more intense then anything he had ever experienced in his mother's house. Shiro stepped backwards. . .

He was in a dark alley, a cigarette clamped firmly between two fingers. His was pleasantly lightheaded. He leaned his inebriated carcass against a brick wall for a moment while he regained his balance. A moment later he stumbled out of the alley into a lamp lit street.

He was alone. If he had been sober he would have been worried. He liked to fight and he was good at it. If one of his former victims found him now he would get his ass kicked.

A street lamp flickered. Shiro was thrown into the air. He crashed into the rough pavement and bounced once before sliding to a stop. The pain shot through his alcohol hazed mind. He gasped, spluttering he spat a clot of blood onto the ground. He could feel the sticky warmth of blood seeping through his hair and through a rip in his back.

He looked up. The thing that struck him was there, clinging to a street lamp pole with its claws. It was vaguely human looking; its dead white skin glowed eerily in the lamp light. Greasy black hair hung from its head. Its tar black eyes looked over him for a moment before the misshapen lips parted into a smile. The beast screeched, arched its back like a cat and leapt for him . . .

He was standing before the Grigori making feeble attempts to explain his actions in Austria. He began to recognize the pattern of these memories as he sweated beneath the chandelier; his mother, a mission that had gone wrong, the day he had received his mashou, and now the trial. These were all memories of fear.

Shiro cursed himself. He had spent years of his life killing the worst creatures Gehenna had to offer. He was no stranger to controlling his anxieties and fears. It was worse than pathetic to let one demon throw him off balance to this extent, even if that demon was Satan.

He calmed himself and focused on the memory, absorbing the details of that day as he relived them. Something about the situation was off. It was nothing obvious, nothing he could pinpoint exactly; just a small knot of unease tightening in his gut that said something was not right.

Then he could feel it, a second presence in the room with him. The presence within his mind was seething with anger all of it directed at Shiro. Beyond that anger Shiro felt what could only be described as sadness tinged with fear. Shiro probed deeper his senses brushing against the presence. He reeled with shock when he felt that other mind.

The thoughts of this creature were like nothing Shiro had ever experienced before. They felt like the pound of ocean waves beneath the full moon and the spray of lava from an erupting volcano. The mind was ancient and wild; it had watched over the birth and death of universes. And despite the weight of all that knowledge there remained something in that mind that was almost childlike in its simplicity.

Beneath all that age and experience, Shiro could feel the lingering sense of grief. There was also a dark rage boiling beneath that grief and a deep sense of loss. Slowly, Shiro realized that this other mind nesting within him had to be Satan.

His foot struck a rock and he stumbled. Shiro was standing in crisp, white snow, covered in a layer of ice. The ice scrapped against his ankles. He was in front of Yuri's cabin. She was standing on the porch, eyes closed with her hands folded demurely in front of her. She was wreathed in a halo of blue flames.

"Shiro," she greeted, her voice undercut by Satan's otherworldly echo.

The demon wearing Yuri's form smiled darkly. "Where are my son's Shiro? What did you do with them after you stole them?"

Shiro never needed to answer. The moment Satan asked the question his memories flashed around them like a film reel in a movie theatre. Shiro witnessed his trek down the mountain and his arrival at Mephisto's mansion. He watched with horror as that first conversation with Mephisto replayed in front of his eyes.

_Let's make a deal Fujimoto-kun. I will help keep your secret, I will help you hide these children. So long as they remain human and ignorant of their demon nature they will remain under your care. However, should they ever awaken to their true nature, should they ever show even the slightest inclination towards demon-hood then I will claim their lives._

The reel of his memories stopped. Yuri smirked for a moment. Then she grinned which progressed into a chuckle. She tilted her head back and roared with laughter. Shiro stepped back, fine hairs prickling on the back of his neck.

"So, my children live. And you have entered into a deal with my most disobedient son."

Satans eyes passed over the exorcist. He started to sweat and squirm beneath the demons scrutiny. Satan may have been as simple and uncomplicated, but so was an earthquake.

Somewhere in forest he could hear Martina's voice. She was yelling frantically, but he couldn't make out the words. He could feel a wet chill seeping through the clothes on his back, like he was lying in a puddle of ice.

Satan smiled. Shiro knew he had screwed up. That lapse in concentration was going to cost him.

The demon was in front of him, arms reaching forward, encircling his neck. Then he was on fire. Shiro screamed as the flames circled around him. The thick darkness from earlier encased his vision once more and he was floating through nothingness. He could still hear Martina. She wasn't shouting anymore. Her voice sounded concerned and a little afraid.

"Poor little Shiro," Satan cooed. "Don't you want to know what's going to happen next?"

"You seem very attached to that little fox woman. Wouldn't it be a shame if something were to happen to her?" Satan mused.

Fear returned, hot and urgent as Shiro strained against the darkness holding him in place. He wanted to shout in protest, to force the beast to keep away from his old friend. "Now, now Shiro, It's only fair. You took something precious from me, now I will take something precious from you."

He could feel the demon nestling deeper into his mind, its rage lessened and a silky sense of satisfaction took its place. "Enjoy the show, Fujimoto."

Now Shiro was looking at Martina. Her hands were braced against each of his shoulders and she was peering into his face. He could not feel the pressure of her touch or the warmth of her palms. "Idiot man, are you all right?"

Shiro tried to answer; to tell her to run, to get the hell away from him, but his lips would not move. He simply nodded and scratched the back of his head. In the background Reynardine's growling had turned to frantic, panicked barking.

Martina dropped her hands from Shiro's shoulders and stepped back. She turned her head towards Rey and in that moment Shiro's body burst into blue flames. Before anyone could react he curled his fist and struck Martina's jaw.

The battered woman crumpled under the force of the blow. This time Shiro felt the impact of his fist against her cheek and the crack of her bones as they splintered under the force of the blow. Shiro thought he was going to be sick.

Reynardine was at her side in a moment. He crouched over her unconscious form, every hair on his body standing at attention. He made no move to attack, but held his ground as Shiro's body took a step towards them.

He wanted to scream, to shout for someone to come and stop him. Instead he threw his head back and laughed. He could feel Satan pressing his vocal cords to their limit.

"Over here you son of a bitch," Kyodo's voice cut through the grating laughter coming from Shiro's mouth. Kyodo charged him, his fists raised and ready. Shiro had half a second to wonder when the boy had been freed before Kyodo lashed out with his right hand.

Shiro saw the fist, knew that Satan planned to grab that fist and break the boys arm. _NO_. He focused on holding perfectly still. He wanted Kyodo to hit him, knew that he deserved the pain for what he had done to Yuri, for what he had allowed to happen to Martina. He threw his entire being into remaining a perfectly stationary target for Kyodo's fist.

He could not suppress the small thrill of victory that shot through him when Kyodo's blow sent him tumbling to the ground. Satan's satisfaction turned to confusion at Shiro's unexpected resistance. The demon had little time to consider it because Kyodo was advancing once more. Shiro saw with some satisfaction that Reynardine had latched on to the collar of Martina's coat in his and was dragging her away from the fight. Izumi had started chanting a familiar psalm.

Satan cried out in rage and frustration. Shiro could feel his control slipping as Izumi continued to chant. But Shiro's impatience to be free of the demon nearly cost Kyodo his life.

Satan slipped past the boys skilled attack. He grabbed the boys outstretched arm at the vulnerable elbow joint and twisted. Shiro shuddered as felt the arm snap. Satan grabbed the joint and squeezed. Kyodo screamed and dropped to his knees, his face tensing with pain.

Satan ducked beneath Kyodo's broken arm and raised Shiro's right arm, flattening it like a blade. Shiro squeezed his eyes shut in desperation, he didn't want to see what would happen if he failed to stop his body in time.

Izumi was more than halfway through the psalm now. Satan was desperate not to be pushed from his host body. Shiro pushed against that invasive presence one more time, matching his own will against Satan's weakening strength. _Get out. Getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout . . ._ "GET OUT," His wild cry echoed through the mountains. The sudden return of control over his body was sudden and disorienting. He pushed Kyodo back away from him while and at the same time threw his own weight backwards.

He landed on his back. Something was forcing its way out of his throat. Shiro choked and rolled to his side half expecting to vomit. He opened his mouth and a dark cloud of energy poured from between his lips. It disappeared when it struck the earth.

Shiro sank to the ground and let the cold of the snow sink through the fibers of his uniform. He didn't realize he was panting until the harsh raspy noise of his breathing reached his ears.

He lay on the ground trembling and straining to hear past the sound of his own harsh breathing. The voices came to him slowly. Kyodo was cursing softly. He could hear Izumi's quiet voice asking after the injured fighter. Halloway was talking to Reynardine, trying to convince the fox to let go of Martina.

Finally, he heard Martina groan in pain and Halloway's soft reassurances that she would be all right. Shiro's eyes drifted closed and he slept.

* * *

Gajasura- Hindu Elephant demon

And I am TIRED. Real world problems have gotten a bit overwhelming lately so it might be a longer wait between chapters. I am not entirely satisfied with the way this chapter turned out, but I also couldn't keep rewriting it over and over and over again. So here it is. I will do my best update once a month, but I can't make promises.

Thanks everyone who reviewed last chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

This is a nice short transition after all the action from the last few chapters. We will be having a regulatory agency audit my work place next week so – depending on how things turn out it may be a while before I can post something again.

I have been trying to set the ground work for things that we know happen in the future with these last few chapters and I feel like I have most of the big stuff covered now. I am hoping to get back to Shiro transitioning into fatherhood in the near future. I just feel that there are a lot of things that had to happen between the twins births and their settling at the monastery that still need to be addressed. Once those things are done I can get back to Shiro the bumbling father, Lamia, and the twins.

Rated R for Shura's gratuitous swearing.

* * *

Shiro started to wake; his body was itching with exhaustion. He squirmed against the cool, sheets. Pain was slipping through his senses. He felt like his body had been forced through a cheese grader. He carefully opened his eyes and stared up at the white ceiling. The room stank like rubbing alcohol and bleach. So he was in a hospital then.

Shiro turned towards the sunlight creeping in through an open window. The stiffened muscles of his neck strained painfully as he turned. On a table by his bedside was a delicate glass vase filled with pink roses. Lingering amongst the flowers was the faint scent of cotton candy. There was a card amongst the blooms bearing his names. The I's were dotted with elegant hearts. Shiro twitched with irritation.

_You have entered into a deal with my most disobedient son_

Shiro shivered as memory returned. Satan's voice slithered through his mind and his irritation vanished. Not for the first time Shiro wondered who Mephisto really was and why he was with the Order in the first place.

Time past as he lay in that room alone. Shiro fell back to sleep. His dreams were twisted by memories of his mission to the mountain. The voices of Satan and Kyodo echoed through his mind. His fists ached when he thought of Martina. He suffered through a jerky, restless sleep, his thoughts constantly returning to Yuri. She was a part of him now, her memories and experiences nestled in a part of his mind that would never be wholly his own again.

Cut off from the pressures of the Vatican and the demands of her father Yuri had been able to grow in to herself. She had found purpose in teaching Satan humanity and in coming to understand the true nature of demons. Mephisto had been right; he would never be able to raise her children until he understood that one critical lesson; that demons were not inherently malicious beings. They were beings of energy and emotion. They were impulsive, curious creatures that could not sympathize with the needs of physical beings. It was this basic ignorance that made them dangerous to humans. Yuri, given the insight that only an outcast could possess, had understood this.

Shiro wondered what sort of chance her son's would have; they would always be torn between Assiah and Gehenna. And if Mephisto and Satan had made him understand anything it was that while they were young they would be vulnerable not only to those who wanted to kill them, but also to those who wanted to use them.

He was horribly unprepared for all of this. He was slowly coming to understand that if he was going to protect the twins he was going to have to rely a little less on Mephisto. And right now, he had no way to hide the boys from the Order on his own. He would need to find the resources and more importantly, he would need to recruit allies. But who in their right mind would knowingly agree to shield Satan's children?

There was a knock on the door. Before Shiro could turn his head the door creaked open. A small girl, ten years old, wearing her bright pink hair in braids slipped in to the room. Shura jumped a little when she saw he was awake. She recovered after a beat and then glared at him to hide her embarrassment.

"Hey," Shiro greeted his voice a bit scratchy. He coughed and carefully pushed himself up. His body felt heavy and stretched too thin.

"Hey," Shura replied. She moved into the room and sat in the visitors chair next to his bed. "How are you?" She struggled to keep the uncertainty out of her voice.

Had he really been so cruel to her? She sat awkwardly at his side, staring at him with unusually clear eyes. How did you talk to a little girl? "I'm all right kid. Sorry I haven't been down to visit. How are you and Martina getting along?"

"Yeah, she's all right. What have you been doing?" She was rubbing the joints of her fingers with her thumbs. She was frowning a little as she watched him.

"Grown up problems, kid. Nothing you should worry about." Shura looked down at her hands and nodded. He couldn't stand it, seeing that discouraged look on her face. He reached out and laid a bandaged hand on the top of her head. "I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to visit. "

Shura's eyes were angry as she brushed his hand off her head, but her face was frosted pink with a pleased blush. "Yeah, you promised. That kind of makes you a shithead."

Shiro smirked. "Definitely a shithead. Does Martina let you talk like that?"

Shura shrugged. "She's the one who calls you that. Anyway she doesn't mind so long as it's not around other people."

"So I don't count as other people." He smiled and reached for the water pitcher next to his bedside. His throat was so dry he could barely speak. Shura was picking up on Martina's mannerisms and starting to talk like his old friend as well. It was cute in its own way.

"Nope." She relaxed a little more and her small features crinkled with joy. Shiro marveled at the changes in her. It had only been two years since he had pulled her off the back of Orochi. She had been a tiny, skin and bones little thing, half wild from living with a demon for god knew how long. She had bonded with him after her rescue because he had been the only member of the team of exorcists who spoke Japanese. She had spent most of the trip back to the Vatican clinging to the back of his legs and clutching desperately at his hand.

Then he had passed her into the arms of Martina and forgotten about her. He had buried himself in the Vatican's dirty work, never thinking, never considering how desperately that little girl needed him. He pushed away the sudden image of bright blue eyes and a mole spotted face that flashed through his mind. Shura was right, he was a shithead.

"So, where is this place? Vatican city?" Shiro asked. He levered himself up on his elbows. A dull ache throbbed through his torso as he inhaled. He didn't want to know just what Satan had done to his body.

Shura nodded. "Martina brought me here after they got back. She said you had been hurt." She looked over his bandaged form. "What were you doing? They wouldn't tell me what happened. Even Martina and Rey got hurt." She trailed off frowning.

"Trust me kid, it's better if you don't know," He hated saying that, but it was the truth. She was a bit too young to be mired in the Vaticans politics. The Grigori were suspicious enough of her already, given her relationship with the Orochi.

Shura's childish features puffed with juvenile outrage and she pouted. He understood her anger and frustration; she couldn't bear to see them hurt and their silence about the source of their injuries upset her even more. It wasn't right to keep this from her, not when the two most important people in her life had nearly been killed. Tears were starting to pool at the corners of her scarlet eyes. "I'll tell you when you're older. It's a good story, but the Grigori wouldn't like it if too many people knew." He could give her that much at least.

Shura's anger transformed immediately to surprise, her lips parting slightly. "So it was really bad, yeah?"

"Really bad," Shiro agreed. "But your mom and me, we're pretty tough. We made it through all right. Everything is fine and we are both fine." He emphasized the word fine. He felt a little foolish repeating reassurances like that, but the peace that returned to her face made it well worth the effort. "But enough of that boring crap. How about you? You started school yet?"

"Yeah, it's all right," she shrugged with the fatalism that came from living with a demon. "I can't wait to start going to the exorcism school. Martina says I have to wait until I turn fourteen, but I'm ready now!"

She probably was. "We'll I have to agree with Martina on that, kid. There are things you can learn from a normal class room that you can't learn in exorcism school. Think of it as training. "

Shura frowned, leaned forward, and peered into his face for a moment. "You are so full of shit."

Shiro tried to restrain his laughter. He really should not be encouraging her. "You only have to put up with it for a few more years kid. It won't be that bad. " _You've survived much worse, _he thought to himself. He didn't know whether to be jealous of Martina or be glad he wasn't in her position. Shura would be a brilliant exorcist in a few years, but he doubted the girl's idea of conflict resolution would endear her to any of her instructors.

There was another knock on the door. It was Martina. Shiro cringed when he saw the dark bruises on her cheek. She smiled awkwardly when she saw the two of them. "You're up. Excellent. How do you feel?" Her words slurred a little and she spoke very slowly and precisely through teeth wired together to hold her broken jaw in place.

"Sore, Martina. How is your head?" Martina had no right to be worried about him, not after what had almost happened.

Martina tangled her fingers in her curls. "Healing. Just a scalp wound, they always look worse than they are." She walked towards his bed and stood by her adopted daughter. She playfully swatted his shoulder and pointed towards his bandaged hands.

"They hurt like a son of a bitch," he admitted. He couldn't take his eyes off of her bruise darkened skin.

"Well that is what happens when you grab a possessed demon goat by the horns," she scolded playfully.

"Wait. . .What?" Shura was bouncing in her seat, eager for more information on the mission that had left the two of them injured. Martina's lips twitched with amusement. Without saying a word she passed Shura a set of keys and looked at the girl with raised eyebrows.

Shura huffed and swung to her feet, "I'll just take my time coming back then." Martina took the seat Shura had just vacated. They both waited until they heard the deliberate squeak of Shura's sneakers shuffling down the hallway outside of his room.

"So," Shiro started. "What happened?"

"That weirdo Pheles showed up a few minutes after you passed out. He and Kyodo did most of the work getting everyone back to the Vatican."

Martina's severe expression deepened. "What about Kyodo?" Shiro asked, keeping is voice flat with some effort.

"He is undergoing inquiry and interrogation. They have him locked in the dungeons now," "Have you seen him since we came back?"

"Not a hair. I doubt they would kill him or let him die before they got some sort of information on the Egin's and if they had found something out by now I would have heard about it. I think we can both assume he is still alive."

"Right."

They were holding back , avoiding the meat of the conversation. Shiro stared at the door Shura had left through not a moment ago. He thought about her; tough tiny woman who had offered to protect him from the Grigori. He could almost feel the firm strength of those wiry arms when they pulled him into a hug. He remembered how easily she had accepted a child as wild and damaged as Shura had been when he first brought the girl back to the Vatican. That was just how Martina was crude, a little gruff, and full of compassion. One thing was painfully clear to Shiro, Martina was now one of Satan's targets. She and her family were involved in this because of his weakness. And she deserved to know the truth.

"Shiro, now I need you to tell me what happened when you were possessed by Satan. " She turned her blue-grey eyes towards him, the laugh lines on her face scrunched with concern. Shiro dropped his gaze to bed sheets and started to speak. He told her everything that had happened since he had returned from his assignment to execute the offspring of Satan. Not once did he have the courage to look her in the eyes.

There was a long silence after he stopped talking. "Well this is probably the most stupid, reckless thing you have ever done." Shiro looked up. Martina's face was cold and angry. She examined him, confusion and some unknown emotion reflected in her gaze. "Still, adopting two children . . . it's very unlike you."

"Incredibly stupid," he agreed. "I don't know what to do. I couldn't kill them, and I can't let them become pawns in Satan's war on Assiah. Or let Mephisto use them for whatever it is he is trying to accomplish."

"And you need to hide them from the Order," she agreed. It was only because they had known each other for years that he could recognize the shifting emotions flickering across her face. First and foremost she was furious. Shiro had been expecting that. He had not been expecting the faint shadow of concern and confusion that darkened her eyes.

"Martina . . ." he started to speak, hoping that he hadn't made a mistake in telling her the truth.

She raised her hand to stop him. "My family . . .my son or Shura could be Satan's next target. There is absolutely nothing you can say . . ." She trailed off. "I need some time." She rose from her seat. The air displaced by her movement was icy as it brushed across his skin. A tight knot of fear settled in Shiro's stomach.

She stopped as her fingers curled around the door handle. Her back stiffened like she was about to speak. Shiro waited hopefully as he watched her shoulders tense and then relax. Then she turned the handle and stepped into the hallway closing the door behind her.

* * *

Thanks everyone who reviewed the Satan v. Shiro arc. Those chapters were draining. I was certain that Shiro and Satan had some sort of confrontation after Yuri's death, but at the same time, how do you write a believable fight scene when the enemy is Satan? I agonized over the last three chapters because I wasn't sure I had gotten it right. Finally, I just thought – screw it- and posted them. Apparently it turned out all right judging by the responses I have gotten.


	9. Chapter 9

Next chapter finally up! I was hoping to have this ready last weekend, which didn't happen. :(

* * *

"So how did you and Mo…Martina meet?" Shura finally asked. She was sitting by Shiro's bedside idly toying with the ends of her hair. Settled on the side of the bed was a travel checkerboard, its tiny pieces scattered over Shiro's blankets. Shura had lost interest in the game half an hour ago when it became clear the exorcist was going to win.

"Which time?" He asked as he tried to collect the discarded pieces. "We met once when I was an Exwire and again when we worked at the Vatican together."

"The first time," Shura said, leaning forward in her chair a little.

"She came to True Cross Academy to train for a few years. It was a long time ago, kid, and back when she was first learning how to control Rey. "

"So what happened?"

"I was still an Exwire at the time so I had a few summoning lessons with her. "

"That's it?" Shura asked incredulously, unsatisfied with the ending.

"That's it." They had a healthy rivalry at the shooting range when they were young, but that was all. Martina was outgoing and gregarious, always had been. And while he got along with her well enough he could never feel comfortable amongst her ever expanding circle of friends. "Ahh she went home after she got Rey under control. I didn't see her again until I was assigned to the Vatican and by then she had already married Mike."

"So?"

"So?" He echoed. Her voice was unexpectedly harsh. "Is there something wrong with Mike?" He had never actually met Martina's husband.

Shura crossed her arms over her skinny chest and glared at him, a sure sign that she wasn't going to give him any more information. Shiro bit back an exasperated sigh and motioned toward the checkerboard. "Wanna finish the game?" It wouldn't do to chase off the only person who had bothered to visit him all week.

Three days after Martina's abrupt departure from his room Shura arrived for her fist visit, a small plate of cookies balanced on the palm of one hand. Taped to the top of the plate cover was an expensive looking cream colored envelope he could only assume was some sort of get well card.

"Are you and Martina fighting?" Shura had demanded as she set the cookies at his bed stand.

Without answering Shiro plucked the envelope off the top of the pile of cookies and slit the delicate paper open with his forefinger. Written beneath the hallmark well wishes was a message in Martina's blocky, blunt script.

_ Shiro,_

_ You are a goddamn thoughtless jackass! You useless man! Lie to me again and I will murder you in your sleep. Yes, I am PISSED! Now sit still, stop worrying, and eat the damn cookies._

_ -All my love_

_ Martina_

The message was so typically Martina that Shiro couldn't help the bark of genuine laughter that erupted from his painfully bruised innards. He set the card aside, away from Shura's curious hands. "No we're not fighting. She's just a little mad at me right now. And ya know what, she has every right to be."

"Oh yeah." Shura sat next to his bed, her severe expression easing a little.

"Yeah. I did something really stupid and now she's in trouble because of it."

"But you're not gonna tell me what it is?" the girl's lips tightened and her forehead crinkled in thought.

"I picked a fight with Satan." Shiro said the words half as a joke, knowing she would never believe the truth.

Shura's kicked the side of his bed in a fit of temper. "Don't lie to me! If you don't wanna say that's fine, but don't give me some bullshit story like that. I'm not stupid ya know!"

Her reaction was so sudden and out of character that it took Shiro by surprise. She had risen to her feet, her face flushed red with anger and her tiny fingers curled into fists. Shiro reached out hesitantly and gently wrapped his fingers around her forearm. "Whoa kid, I never said you were." He sighed, not sure what he had said to set her off like that. He released her arm after a moment. "Guess it's just my day to put my foot in my mouth."

_I'm too old to deal with this crap,_ he thought for a moment. He wished Martina was here, she would know how to fix this, more importantly, she would be able to tell him just what the hell he had done wrong in the first place.

He couldn't stand to see the look of hurt on that little girl's face. "I'm sorry, "he said softly, "I know you're not stupid." He leaned up, ignoring the dull ache in his chest. Very gently he cupped the back of Shura's head and pulled her forehead to rest against his collar bone in an awkward embrace.

Shura squeaked, squirmed for a moment, and then went still. There was a moment of complete stillness as Shura curled two tiny fists in his hospital gown. Then she pushed away. "Shiro. That was weird." He tried to meet her eyes, but she refused to look him in the face.

He felt ridiculous as the two of them shuffled awkwardly around each other. "So, you gonna tell me why you're so upset?" he asked finally.

Shura was looking at her feet and blushing a little. "No reason," she grumbled softly.

Shiro shifted back into a reclining position, grunting in pain as he moved. "I just . . .I just don't like it when you and Martina fight. You both got really hurt and I don't even know what happened."

That had been disastrous beginning of Shura's daily visits to his hospital room. He found himself looking forward to seeing her smiling face each day even though he had no idea why a ten year old would want to spend so much time around him instead of doing whatever it was ten year old girls did all day. He had to admit he found himself looking forward to her visits. They distracted him from the host of problems that had come from his reckless promise to Yuri. It was much easier to focus on playing checkers with Shura.

He had only just rearranged the tiny magnetic pieces on the game board when there was a musical knock at the door. Before either of them could react the portal swung open dramatically and Mephisto swept into the room with a large fruit basket balanced in his arms. His unusual parasol was hanging by its handle from his forearm and he was whistling cheerfully as he walked in. He was once again dressed in his infamous glad rags; pantaloons, pink stockings, top hat, and cape.

"Fujimoto-kun, " he cried as he set the basket down on the table with the flowers. "I come bearing gifts to speed your recovery." The demon was beaming as he rose from placing his offering on the table. He seemed to catch sight of Shura for the first time although Shiro was fairly certain Mephisto knew she was here before he entered. He paused as his eyes passed over Shiro to focus on the girl. "Ooooh, and who is this fair maiden?"

Mephisto removed his top hat and swept into a deep bow, flourishing his cape as he tipped forward. "Greetings. I am Mephisto Pheles. It is a pleasure to meet such a lovely young lady."

Shura blinked slowly her lips twisting into a scowl. Her eyebrows had risen so high on her forehead that they disappeared beneath her thick pink bangs. He could see the desire to say something sour skitter across her face for a moment.

Discipline won out in the end. Shura's expression eased, but she could not quite keep the contempt out of her voice when she replied. "Nice to meet ya. I'm Shura Kirigakure."

"What a lovely name," Mephisto beamed.

"Thanks Mister." Her eyes ran over the ridiculously dressed creature in front of her and she rose to her feet. "I'm gonna get a soda, you want anything Shiro?"

"Yeah, could you get me some ice?" Shiro asked, providing her with an excuse to stay out of the room for a bit. She was, he thought, a remarkably sensible child.

"How are the boys?" Shiro asked when Shura left the room. Of all the questions he had for Mephisto that one was the most pressing. He needed to know that they were safe and healthy. The strength of that desire surprised him.

Mephisto was not quite quick enough to hide the look of confusion that crossed his face. "Ahhh they are fine, Fujimoto-kun, resting comfortably under Lamia's care. I saw them just this morning." The demon was watching him without speaking. The oddity made Shiro's skin crawl. A silent, calculating Mephisto was not something he was prepared to deal with.

He looked up at Mephisto from the hospital bed wishing that he could meet with the demon on his feet. "Why are you here?" he finally asked.

"To check on the health of a dear colleague, why else would I come?" Mephisto was smiling with fangs bared.

"To harass small children." _Or mark your territory _he thought cynically.

"You wound me. Try a banana Fujimoto-kun, they will help you recover." He ripped open the cellophane wrapping of the gift basket and offered the wounded exorcist one of the bright yellow fruits. Shiro raised his hand, blocking Mephisto's attempt to assault him with fruit. Mephisto shrugged and withdrew his offering. "Your friend has been busy you know, scurrying around the Vatican like a fox." The demon's voice was a little too casual.

There were a great many reasons she might be busy at the Vatican that had nothing to do with him or the boys, but Shiro didn't think that was very likely. Of course, it was just as likely that Mephisto was lying to him about the whole thing. He hoped that was the case, he certainly didn't want to have to tell Martina she was also on the wrong side of one of Satan's children.

"Oh relax Fujimoto-kun. Ms. Cotton has been quite helpful and her daughter is absolutely charming. She has the makings of a great exorcist."

"What has she been doing? We haven't spoken much since we got back," he admitted.

"She has been telling the story of your heroic victory over Satan," with banana still in hand Mephisto through his arms wide. "It really is a great epic, fit for the ages. Everyone is curious about the exorcist who twice defeated Satan in combat and then drove the king of Gehenna from his own body. Yes, even the Grigori are starting to listen to the story."

The exorcist wasn't sure what to say to that. He had always been a little suspicious of the Grigori and the way they did business, the last thing he wanted was more scrutiny from those old men. Hearsay and rumors were powerful tools, but the wrong word said to the wrong person at the wrong time could cost Shiro his life.

He had a million questions running through his mind and he was running out of patience. Shiro frowned. Right now the only source of information he had was engrossed in sniffing a banana. "And what are they saying about Kyodo? What is happening to him?"

Mephisto looked up from his banana and began peeling the skin from the fruit. "Hmmm . . . well Kyodo-kun is being reviled as a traitor of course. He is being interrogated and when the Grigori are satisfied they have gotten all the information out of him they will most likely kill him."

Shiro's hands tightened into fists and his lips thinned with determination. There was no way he was going to let that happen. Mephisto watched him for a moment, his animated features pulling into a frown. "No. Absolutely not, Fujimoto-kun, Trying to save him would draw too much attention to you. It would raise too many questions. Your position is too precarious for you to help the boy right now."

"I won't leave him like that." Shiro knew full well what Mephisto said was the truth, that there was very little he could hope to do for brave, foolhardy Kyodo. Sitting in that bed being lectured made him feel like a petulant teenager and that pissed him off more than anything.

Mephisto shrugged and began to nibble delicately on the banana. "Fujimoto-kun, are you challenging me?" The demon's voice was casual, almost amused. It reminded Shiro of a constrictor bloated with its last meal.

"I still need you," Shiro admitted, "but I won't sacrifice another person to the Order."

"Oh . . ." Mephisto was smiling. "Still, I am concerned Fujimoto-kun. I can hardly leave my dear little brothers in the care of an invalid." Mephisto swallowed the final bite of fruit and dropped the discarded skin into the trash.

Shiro knew bullshit when he heard it. For all his faults Mephisto was too much of a gamesman to back out of their bet. No, the demon was after something else. This gentle prodding had nothing to do with the twins or the bet. "I am fine, Mephisto. As soon as I am released I'll be ready to take care of the boys."

"Are you certain?" Mephisto walked to the window and stared through the glass. "After all, having the King of Gehenna raging through your head must have been very unpleasant."

"Oh it was no worse than living with you for a week," Shiro snarked. Mephisto was circling around the question he wanted to ask. Shiro only needed to keep him talking a bit longer to figure out what he wanted.

"Fujimoto-kun, my heart breaks," Mephisto twirled dramatically, an exaggerated expression of hurt plastered on his face. "After all my generosity and gentle care."

"Bathrobe," Shiro deadpanned.

"It was the finest one I owned. A guest should always be given his hosts finest."

"Zebra stripes."

"Zebra's are a proud and noble animal Fujimoto-kun. You should feel honored to wear their colors."

It was as Shiro suspected. The more Mephisto wanted something, the more ridiculous he acted. "And that room, Mephisto. There was enough pink in that room to choke an old lady. It's not very suitable for a demon wouldn't you say?"

Mephisto gave a full bellied laugh. "Oh I would hardly think you are qualified to judge what is suitable for a demon Fujimoto-kun. Unless you learned a thing or two from Satan…"

"Like there was anything I could learn from that animal." Shiro leaned back in his bed, closed his eyes and placed his palm over his face, effectively shielding his expression from Mephisto.

"Tired Fujimoto-kun?" came Mephisto's teasing voice. Mephisto stepped closer to his bed, his cape disturbing the air as he moved.

Shiro grunted. "Just a headache. I would really rather not think about being possessed by Satan if you don't mind. I don't remember all that much that happened anyway." He rubbed his fingers across the creases in his brow.

The room went absolutely still for a moment. Shiro could feel the demon hovering just beyond the protective cover of his hand. "I understand Fujimoto-kun. I will visit you again when you are feeling better." Mephisto's voice was uncharacteristically soft when he spoke. The demon moved and Shiro listened to his sharp footsteps and the telltale creaking of the door opening as Mephisto left the room.

Shiro smiled grimly and let his hand fall away from his face. Mephisto's behavior wasn't proof that what Satan had said was the truth, but still . . . From now on he would have to monitor every word he said around the demon; after all, he would not always be able to use his injuries as an excuse to deflect Mephisto's questions.


	10. Chapter 10

_Mephisto is the son of Satan._

Shiro didn't want to believe it was true, but how could he deny it. 'I would hate to see my younger brother neglected,' Mephisto had told him on the very first day of their unusual arrangement. The exorcist hadn't taken his statement seriously then, had brushed it off as one of Mephisto's eccentricities and really why should he have taken the demon seriously? No one in their right mind would believe that one of Satan's children would willingly help the Order.

Shiro gave a started yelp as the cold end of a stethoscope was pressed against his chest. The doctor examining him jumped a little and straightened himself. "Sorry, Shiro." He took the end of the stethoscope and warmed it gently between his hands before pressing it to the exorcists' bare chest. Shiro felt the warm glow of an embarrassed blush crawl over his cheeks. The doctor poked and prodded him for another half hour before nodding in a self-satisfied manner. "You will have to take it easy for awhile, but you should make a full recovery. You should be fine to leave tomorrow."

_Finally_. He might not be fighting fit, but he was more than ready to see the back of this place. Whether he ended up under house arrest at the Vatican or as Mephisto's guest didn't matter to him at all. Either option was better than being confined to this place.

Shiro swung his legs over the side of the bed. To hell with it, he was tired of staring at the ceiling. He was going for a walk and the guards would damn well have to shoot him to stop him. He wanted to move and stretch his limbs without another person hovering over him asking him a million ridiculous questions about the state of his body.

He resolutely pushed the door open. Two smartly dressed exorcists turned to watch him as he stepped through the door. "Did you need something, Mr. Fujimoto?"

"Just getting some air." He walked past them and headed towards the nurses station. Behind him he could hear them arguing amongst themselves as he walked away. _Kids_, as if he needed another reminder of just how undermanned the Order was. Eventually, the bickering stopped and the sound of footsteps caught up to him. At least they had enough sense to stay near him. He wandered how far he could push his luck with these kids and started following the signs to the elevator. That was when Martina rounded the corner and almost ran into him.

She stopped short for a moment and the shadow of anger crossed over her face. He could see her trying to decide whether or not to approach him before blowing noisily through her nostrils and reaching out to grab his elbow. She dismissed the guard with a nod and guided him on an empty waiting room.

"You are using me as a babysitter." Shiro was completely at a loss as to what to say to her.

"Of course I am. Like you have anything else better to do. Besides, it's good practice for you." Her voice was still muffled by her wired jaw, "I've been busy."

"Martina, how much time do you think we have?" _Before Satan makes a move_ went unsaid. The God of Gehenna had been weakened by his prolonged stay in Assiah and the fight with the exorcists. He had no doubt he would find a way to manifest in the physical world as soon as he was able, although not necessarily before he recovered.

As Shiro grew stronger so did the memories Satan had left behind in his head. He dreamed of ancient stars and newborn planets; he dreamed of worlds clothed in mist that obeyed no natural laws he was familiar with.

He could feel Satan's affection; it curled tightly around the memory of a dark haired girl and her helpless children. _These are mine and I will protect them_ was the overwhelming sensation echoing through his mind. He had no more illusions about the demons relationship with Yuri.

"You look a little unsteady, Fujimoto. I think you need to sit." Martina's voice called him back to the present. Like a battered clay vessel trying to contain lava Shiro had been reshaped by Satan's possession and he wasn't certain he was ready to acknowledge that yet.

"I've had some time to think about everything that has happened," Matina continued. "I wouldn't have been able to do it . . . kill two children who had never harmed anyone." She released an exhausted sigh. "I will protect my family Shiro, and that means protecting you." She took a deep breath and turned him towards him. "After what happened in the forest I think we have some time to prepare and I plan on making the most of it."

Shame coursed through him. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair that he had forced her into this situation. Her husband and her children were more to her than the blood in her veins. And dammit, he should be the one looking out for her, not the other way around. "What exactly have you been telling the Order?"

"I told the truth." Martina finally answered as she closed the door behind them. She pushed him to sit on the bed then took a seat in the visitor's chair. Martina sat spraddle legged with her elbows balanced on her knees and her chin resting on her fists. "I made sure the right stories were told to the right people. It's good insurance for you and Kyodo."

"Martina . . ." _What exactly does she mean by 'right people'?_

"Oh stuff it. There isn't much that I can say that could make your position any worse. If I did my job right the rest depends on how well you play your cards. You better not screw this up Shiro."

"I . . ."

"Oh and I heard another interesting rumor," Martina cut him off thoughtlessly. "Apparently Director Pheles has been sent out on a mission."

_Wait . . .what?_ "Did you hear why?"

Martina shook her head. "I don't have the details. Something must have happened. Who knows? We already know Satan's presence was affecting the lower ranked demons, who knows how it will affect more powerful demons. Maybe the Grigori just want to keep him busy for a few days."

He could taste the sour tang of fear in his mouth. If Mephisto was on a mission, then where were the boys? With Lamia? Who had tried to eat them the very night they were born? Or maybe he had taken them with him. Shiro couldn't decide which situation would be worse.

It had become harder to remain calm and objective where the twins were concerned. The twins were probably safe and completely oblivious to the chaos they were creating. It was that 'probably', that tiny sliver of uncertainty that was making him panic.

"What do you think about it?" He doubted there were many duties within the Order that were capable of occupying Mephisto's attention for any amount of time.

Martina shrugged. "Either way it's something you should keep in mind."

Shiro looked over at Martina as she leaned back into her chair. His head was telling him that he would need to keep her close if he was going to survive this; his heart was telling him to pack her and her family off to a remote corner of Siberia where they would be safe. He knew she would never stand for it and that she could look after herself, but that wouldn't stop him from worrying.

For Martina, Kyodo, and the twins he would have to learn to think and fight in new ways. If he wanted to protect them he would have to grown beyond the awkward, emotionally stunted man he was now and learn new ways to navigate the complex tangle of Vatican politics.

_Focus on the big problems_ Shiro thought to himself. Right now the two most immediate threats were the Order and Mephisto. He would need to settle things with both of them before Satan made his next appearance. Martina seemed to be making decent progress with the Order and that just left Pheles to be dealt with.

Mephisto was the consummate collector who loved the rare and unusual; and how rare and unusual were the half human children of Satan and their exorcist caretaker. Shiro would not stand by and let it happen. _Treat this like an assignment; this is just another demon you need to exorcise, an incredibly powerful elder demon who has intimate knowledge of the Order's methods._

"You look constipated," Martina's voice cut through his thoughts.

Shiro managed a tight smile. "Do I? I was thinking that I need to talk to Izumi."

Martina casually stretched her arms above her head, back popping as she extended her limbs. "Izumi has been asking me about you . . . and Kyodo. All the same, I think you should at least find out how he knew that verse would be so effective against Satan's possession. I certainly wouldn't have thought to use verse against something that powerful. " "

"Well. . ." He let sarcasm slip into his voice. Her ignorance of fatal verses was Martina's biggest weakness as an exorcist.

"Smartass." She didn't sound angry, but there was a note of playfulness that was missing from her voice. Shiro wondered which had upset her more; Satan's attention or that he had lied to her.

At the end of the day he was still a very selfish man and it was a relief to have her sitting with him like this despite their damaged relationship. There were no alien protocols or strange expectations he had to meet when talking with Martina. Reading her quirks and expression had become second nature over the course of their long friendship.

"He didn't even hesitate when he used that verse, like he knew that it would work," Shiro mused. It would be perfect if he could speak with him while Mephisto and the Grigori were dealing with other things, but there was another problem to consider. "Martina, do you trust him?"

"No," that was not the answer he had been hoping for, "Shiro, I don't know him any better than you do. I have no idea why he is so interested in you and Kyodo."

That stopped Shiro short. He would never have suspected that Izumi might have other motives for involving himself with Shiro. He had almost forgotten about Izumi in his worry over other matters and in all fairness Izumi had done very little to make himself memorable. It was the perfect quality for a spy. "You think he could be working for someone else?"

"I think you should be cautious around anyone who was sent with you on that mission. Especially if they are offering free help. Figure out what he wants from you before you make a decision."

* * *

On the day Shiro was discharged he was escorted from the hospital by his guards to a nondescript white limousine. Sitting across from him was Father Halloway. The old man seemed distant and dignified in his spotless cassock, so different from the affable retiree he had met earlier.

"Good afternoon, Fujimoto-kun," the other man greeted him. "I trust you are well? My apologies for not coming sooner, but my duties at the Vatican had to take priority."

What the hell was he supposed to say in this situation? Shiro thought back to the last mission and Martina's parting words. Had Halloway been evaluating him the entire time? If so then it would be best to reply in his usual gruff, casual manner. "Been better, got a bit of a headache. How have you been?"

The man chuckled at Shiro's gruff reply. "A bit stiff, a bit sore. I'm just not used to taking jobs like that anymore. I would love to head back to retirement, but that's just not possible now."

"Yeah." There was no hidden meaning here, it would be years before any of them could live quietly again. "What happens now?" Shiro asked finally.

"We need to take the time to regroup from all of this. The Order has survived for over two thousand years it would be an embarrassment if we let something like this destroy us."

"It can't be allowed to happen," Shiro agreed. He might not like everything about the way things were run within the Order, but he didn't want to know what the world would look like without it. The Order was without a doubt the oldest organization dedicated to fighting demons. No other exorcists in the world had the same access to resources and funding as the exorcists of the True Cross Order. If Blue Night had created such chaos within True Cross it was safe to assume that exorcists across the globe had been affected. If that were true mankind had never been more vulnerable to demonic attacks.

"I am glad you agree Fujimoto-kun." Halloway's smile made the hairs on the back of Shiro's neck rise. "There have been many people taking interest in you given recent events. I believe that you will become a key player within the new True Cross."

And there it was, the meat of the conversation finally laid out between the two of them. Shiro wanted to say more, but the car was slowing in front of a stately pair of wrought iron gates. This was not the Vatican, this was a private residence. Shiro was acutely aware of the creak of the iron gates and the crunch of gravel beneath the cars tires.

Finally the car came to a full stop in front of a Villa. "Melchior is waiting to see you," Halloway said before guiding him inside.

* * *

**Dare Mo:** No worries and thanks for taking the time to review. Questions like that help keep this story in line. I tried to make my interpretation of the situation a little clearer in this chapter. I think Shiro would brush off the comments about Mephisto and the twin's relationship, interpreting it more as we are brothers because we are all demons and not necessarily because we share the same father. I also think that one of Mephisto's biggest weaknesses is his need to play games with people. Since he has no respect for Shiro at this point he wouldn't think twice about dropping hints like that in front of him.

As for Mephisto's situation- I think the True Cross Order would be fully aware of the fact that Mephisto is actually Samael, but that this fact would not be known by every member of the Order. There are too many potential problems with everyone in the Order knowing Mephisto's true identity. At the same time the Order would look pretty incompetent if they hadn't figured out who he was. For this story I am not certain how widespread that information would be- I think maybe just having the Grigori and the Pope know the truth would be enough


	11. Chapter 11

A big thank you to jtm21 for taking a minute to look over this chapter.

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Shiro had worked at the Vatican long enough that he was no longer impressed by the elegant architecture of the villa. There was nothing special about the graceful stone arches and towering Corinthian columns. Shiro resisted the urge to grumble at the stupidly long double staircases that lead to the front door. The building was big for a private residence, but he had seen bigger. However, there was an austerity to this place that differed from anything he could find in the Vatican, never mind the frenetic explosion of eccentricities he had seen at Mephisto's mansion.

This place was quiet, everything from the landscaping to the solemn grey exterior indicating a man with expensive, but simple tastes. Inside there was an almost palpable lack to the place; no ornaments, artwork, or personal effects of any kind. As Shiro was guided through the sunlit hallways the only sounds he heard were the soft tapping of his and Halloway's footsteps against the hardwood and marble floors. If Melchior employed any servants, then they must be the quietest servants in the world. This place was as sterile and impersonal as the hospital he had just come from. Shiro revised his initial assessment of the place, there was no way anyone lived here on a full time basis.

Shiro trailed Halloway with uncharacteristic meekness. Right now he felt it would be best not to say too much or give too much away. He could almost hear Martina lecturing him for his inaction. Now would be the perfect time for him to test the waters with Halloway, but since he didn't know what to do he did nothing.

He felt the familiar battle tension twisting in his gut. It would be so much easier if this was an enemy he could shoot. His fingers twitched. To hell with his promise, once he got out of here he was going to smoke an entire carton.

Halloway lead him to a sitting room. Shiro blinked as he stepped inside, the room was brilliantly white. Sunlight streamed through a glass ceiling above him dancing over cream colored paint and dark wood paneling. It left Shiro feeling like a deer caught out in the open during hunting season. Maybe it was meant to. Melchior was seated in this room and at his side were men dressed in wearing black out fits with half masks. The emblem of the Order's elite guards was stitched across the front of those masks.

Melchior untangled his hand from his beard and motioned for Shiro to come closer. "Welcome Mr. Fujimoto, and thank you for coming to speak with me," he said it like Shiro had any choice in the matter.

"There is no need to thank me, it is my honor and duty to serve," Shiro pressed his fist against his chest and bowed. It had been years since he had practiced any of the formalities; he felt a little like a child wearing his father's tie. He never expected that he would have the opportunity to speak directly with one of the Grigori. For an exorcists of his rank it was about as likely as him pulling a leprechaun out of his ass.

Shiro straightened himself and looked into that veiled face. Melchior seemed pleased. At least his act had accomplished something. Prostrating himself before another person always left a sour taste in his mouth.

Melchior steepled his fingers. "I have heard many things about you in recent weeks and given the nature of your recent exploits I felt it was time I spoke with you." The man raised his hand and one of the guards left his side to bring Shiro a chair of dark wood. So it was going to be a long conversation. "I would like to hear about your encounter with Satan."

Halloway would have already told Melchior everything that had happened during that mission so there must be some reason he wanted to hear Shiro's version of events. In any case, Shiro had no choice but to tell Melchior his version of events. The room was painfully quiet except for the raspy sound of Shiro's voice. The sun reflecting through those windows made the room stupidly hot and Shiro was reminded of his audience in the courtroom and that ridiculous chandelier. He told his story the same way he would give any mission report, a series of straightforward facts.

Shiro wondered just how nervous he should be in this situation. Halloway and the two guards were most likely Melchior's most loyal supporters and unlike the inept children at the hospital these men would be prepared to act with lethal force if Shiro did anything remotely suspicious. He wondered if this room had been used for other audiences like this and bent forward in his chair a little, his eyes scanning for stains on the dark floors.

When Shiro finished speaking he leaned back in his chair. He could very nearly hear the soft click of gears grinding against each other as Melchior considered the information the exorcist had thrown at him. Shiro held himself steady through the silence and waited for the other man to speak.

"It is a very interesting story Mr. Fujimoto. I had wanted to hear your version of events. There have been so many rumors flying around since your return. It is getting hard to separate fact from fiction."

"I haven't had a chance to hear them yet," Shiro ventured. Speaking frankly was somehow easier after that long speech. He was surprised by how exhausted he was doing nothing more than speaking. He supposed it would be pushing it to ask for a glass of water, at least they didn't make him stand this time.

"Yes, of course. You will forgive me for arranging this meeting so soon after your release. Certain circumstances have made it necessary."

Shiro desperately wanted to ask what those circumstances might be. Melchior was testing him right now, to say the wrong thing at this point, to raise their suspicions would be unwise. Instead he said "We all must do what we can especially after Blue Night."

Melchior's veil shifted and Shiro wished he could see the face that was hidden beneath it. "Tell me Fujimoto, what do you think about the state of the Order after Blue Night?"

Halloway had asked him nearly the same question. "Things are bad. Our numbers have been decimated. It will be at least a decade before we even have enough people trained to replace those we lost." Melchior was watching him through that veil and Shiro got the distinct impression the Grigori was waiting for him to say more. Shiro fumbled for more things to say. "It's going to take a lifetime to regain the knowledge that was lost and with the recent increase in demon activity . . ."

Melchior silenced Shiro with a wave of his hand. "The Order will never survive as it stands now. There are too many men vying for power, too many factions forming within the younger members."

Shiro had never expected Melchior to speak so bluntly about the state of the Order. He was right of course. Satan had successfully killed off most of the ranking members of the Order during Blue Night and the open positions left by those deaths would need to be filled. Of course there would be exorcists looking to use this disaster to advance their status within the Order. Even so, Shiro would never have guessed that the internal politics had become so bad that it would ruffle the feathers of the eldest Grigori. Shiro couldn't think of one single reason Melchior would have to confide in him, unless the man was desperate. Shiro wondered if Martina knew anything about it. "I agree," Shiro said after a long pause. "We couldn't handle any internal power struggle at this time."

"What the Order needs right now is a leader, someone who can unify all the factions, someone who can inspire confidence that we survived Blue Night and are still able to confront the forces of Satan."

Realization crashed over Shiro and he wasn't certain that he was ready to hear the rest of it. Like it or not, he was the only exorcist who had faced Satan and survived. The first time there hadn't been any witnesses. This time there had been four witnesses and Martina had done her damndest to make sure everyone in the Order had heard about it. Now he knew why he had been summoned here. For Melchior to be suggestion such a thing . . .the division in ranks must go higher than the old man wanted to admit, high enough that Melchior's own position was in danger.

Shiro could play stupid and let Melchior use him or he could take charge and deal with the Grigori as an equal. It all depended on the next words to come out of his mouth. "Has something gone wrong between the Grigori?"

Melchior didn't miss a beat. "The Grigori serve as advisors and judges only. We cannot lead the Order." The old man tangled his hand in his beard.

"That doesn't answer my question." Pawn, partner, or some combination of the two; it would all be decided here. Shiro waited, holding his breath.

Melchior hesitated, clenching and unclenching his fingers as he made his decision. "I believe that a member of the Grigori assisted in Cardinal Egin's escape, even going as far as to supply him with funds from the Vatican."

As soon as he heard Egin's name an icy claw of rage raked across the pit of his stomach. _Hatehatehatehatehate_ beat through his brain with the intensity of a tidal wave. He was going to be sick, he was going to spill his lunch all over Melchior's darkly polished floors (and wouldn't that make a beautiful first impression). _No,_ he pushed the feelings back down. Satan was banished from his body, he was not going to let the remnants of the demons mind control him. It took him a moment to steady himself and force back that foreign emotion.

"How do you know that the Grigori are involved?" He choked out the question, hoping to distract Melchior from looking to closely at his odd reaction.

The words filtered through the blood pounding in Shiro's ears. ". . . escape . . . well organized. . . missing funds . . . watched. . . his supporters. . . witnesses . . .murdered in their cells," Slowly the disjointed words resolved into sentences. "The only people who could have arranged all of this, who had access to the resources to do all of that are members of the Grigori."

Melchior was watching him as he calmed. The last of the pounding left his ears and Shiro could hear the soft rustle of the other man's veil. Melchior said nothing, didn't react in any way. Shiro hoped the other man would interpret his reaction as disgust at the Grigori's betrayal.

Shiro wasn't exactly surprised by the news. Egin's conservative policies and almost neurotic desire to exterminate all demons had made him quite popular within the Order. Some people would continue to support him regardless of what had happened or what he was accused of. He was surprised that a member of the Grigori would make such a bold move against the general wishes of the Order. "Do you have any idea if it was Casper or Balthasar?"

Melchior's face pulled into a frown. "It could have been either of them. Or both of them working together. They were Egin's supporters before Blue Night, but without proof I am unable to act against either of them." He didn't have to add that openly admitting contention between the Grigori would be disastrous for the Order. This was a matter that would have to be handled discreetly.

"And you think I can help you with this?" He knew what Melchior was going to ask from him, but it didn't make any sense. Despite his actions in Austria, Shiro was still suspected of colluding with Egin. Not even the combined forces of Kyodo's recklessness and Martina's rumor mongering would keep him clear of all suspicion.

"I need you and the influence your reputation gives you. After Blue Night the younger exorcists need to be reassured that our organization is capable of handling any demonic threat that comes its way. They will rally around a man they believe is capable of protecting them from Satan. If I use this I can gain the support of the remaining Vatican exorcists and I will have all the resources I need to act against the traitor. Without it the traitor will most certainly leave the blame for Egin's disappearance with you and Kyodo and force me into retirement."

"What exactly are you asking me to do?" Melchior was right. A scapegoat was needed to satisfy the members of the Order who had survived Blue Night. Egin would have been the ideal choice, but with him missing someone would need to be punished. Right now the most obvious candidate for that was Kyodo.

"Become the Order's Paladin. Use your reputation as the man who defeated Satan to hold us together and find out which of the Grigori betrayed the Order."

It was a risky proposition. To let this happen would place him neatly in Melchior's pocket which in turn would make him an enemy of Casper, Balthasar, or both. This in turn would result in one, or both of them taking action against him. He couldn't help but wonder how Mephisto would react to all of this.

If he had learned anything from his years at the Vatican it was how fickle popular opinion could be; today he was the hero who had defeated Satan but only a few weeks ago he had been a pariah accused of assisting Satan and his agents. "Why would you want to use me as Paladin?"

Melchior grinned like a hungry ghoul. "Any man who can cast Satan from his own flesh must be blessed by God. Of course, it can be argued that any man who invites Satan to possess him in the first place must be a foul soul dripping in sin. Innocent and guilty at the same time. You are in a very unusual position."

Finally, the truth of the matter was laid out between them. If Shiro chose to act as Paladin Melchior gained an ally he could control. Melchior would be able to subtly influence the Order through Shiro. One the other hand, if Shiro refused Melchior could discredit him as an agent of the Egin's and find a way to connect him to the traitor Grigori. Either way Melchior could use the situation to his advantage. Shiro could play the role of Paladin for now or he could refuse and be crushed by Melchior or left completely at Mephisto's mercy. He revised his earlier assessment, he was going to need two cartons by the end of the day.

"You strike me as a shrewd man Fujimoto. Surely you can see the benefits of working with me," Melchior must have sensed his hesitation. "You are a skilled man, it must have been frustrating for you to work behind the scenes all these years. Becoming Paladin would give you position and power within the Order and I am asking for very little in return."

_Is that really what people think of me? That I am an ambitious ladder climber?_ He couldn't deny the logic though. He had worked for Egin right up until the man had been discredited and after that he had taken up with Mephisto. Without knowing the circumstances for these choices it did look like Shiro went wherever the wind blew him. It was no wonder Melchior had come to that conclusion.

Shiro plastered a smile on his face and hoped that it didn't seem too fake. "It is an attractive offer. I think I will take you up on that."

Melchior did not completely trust him and didn't care that he might have been involved with the Egin's disappearance. He would use Shiro as long as he believed he could control him. It would be entirely up to Shiro to break free of his puppeteer's strings and gain some measure of independence. Although he suspected that he would never have the same level of autonomy he had before this mess started. He was now thoroughly bound by his interest in protecting the twins, protecting his allies, and his own self-preservation.

It was all chance that had brought him here in the first place. He had started working for Egin on a whim and because he had agreed with the man's views on demons. He hadn't really cared about what was going on behind the scenes. It had been chance that of all the exorcists who worked for Egin he had been chosen to bring Yuri home, and it had been just plain luck that had allowed him to survive Blue Night. Until finally, a man known for his cold hearted detachment and hatred of demons was offered the title of the Order's greatest warrior so he could use it to protect two half demon children. Somewhere he was certain Mephisto was laughing at him.

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Aaand I finished on time this month. This and chapter 10 were all originally one chapter, but I felt like there was too much information and I split it up. Now to start writing the next chapters. I've recently gotten all nostalgic for the various entries in the Gundam franchise and . . .well it's been bad, really bad for my productivity.

I am thinking of changing the genre for this fic since its scope has expanded quite a bit from when I first started. I had originally planned for chapter 2 to be Shiro's arrival at the monastary with the twins. Then I really started to over think his whole situation with the twins adoption and how Shiro managed to gain the title of Paladin. I keep digging myself a deeper hole with this story. XD

Thanks everyone who R+R last chapter and sorry for the long wait on replies from me. I still plan to continue to PM all reviewers since it takes so long between updates and by the time I post the next chapter I will have completely forgotten what I wanted to say.


	12. Chapter 12

Shiro woke suddenly, his mouth dry and his muscles aching. He rubbed crust from his eyes and pawed blindly for the lamp on his nightstand. His fingers brushed against his wire frame glasses, knocking them to the ground as he groped for the base of the lamp. Something had woken him from a deep sleep. Finally, he found the switch and flicked on the lights. He shut his eyes against the harsh light of the incandescent bulb and felt around the floor until his fingers brushed against his glasses.

He rolled over slowly and saw a suspicious looking fox shaped shadow on his bedroom wall. He slipped his glasses on and the fuzzy world sharpened around. Reynardine's shadow remained exactly where it was.

The fox shadow merely flicked its ears impatiently then stalked out of the narrow triangle of light disappearing into another shadow. Shiro yawned and considered just rolling over and going back to sleep. He dismissed the thought in an instant. There was no way he could sleep while Rey's shadow was watching him. He kicked off his blankets and got ready for the day. The shadow and the man stared at each other for a moment. Shiro had never trusted Reynardine and Reynardine knew it. They tolerated each other only because of their shared bond with Martina. It had taken Martina years to come to some sort of agreement with her difficult familiar. She might treat him as an over grown German Shepherd, but Shiro could not so easily overlook the danger Reynardine represented.

Shiro's head cleared a little as he showered and dressed. When Martina had left Rome for a little leave time with her family she had promised to leave him some "backup." He had remained in a holding pattern since his return to the Vatican, still uncertain of his position and what exactly he should be doing next. It was a strange new feeling for a man accustomed to following orders.

Mephisto still hadn't returned and while he had made arrangements with Melchior there was no guarantee he would be made Paladin. The other Grigori would have their own nominees as well. There would be days of bickering before the higher ups made their final decisions and until then Shiro would just have to wait.

The fox shadow wandered back into the patch of light when Shiro had completed his morning routine. The dorm hallways were stifling in their silence as he stepped out of his room to follow the shadow. It was early, probably not even five in the morning yet which meant Shiro would have a few hours to himself before he would be expected to schmooze with the other members of the Order.

After a few minutes of walking through the Order's underground headquarters the fox stopped and sat, its shadow tail curling over its paws. Shiro turned and found he was standing in front of the towering double doors that lead to the Order's library. Shiro pulled the heavy doors opened and entered.

The library breathed with a life of its own, quite distinct from the other rooms at headquarters. The library reminded Shiro of a donut; it was a large circular room with a hole cut straight through the center. There were five floors in total and a large set of spiral staircases set directly in the center of that circle. The room itself was kept cool and dark in deference to the texts within. The dry air and earthy scent of paper burned in Shiro's nostrils.

Shiro moved silently over the marble floor, his feet treading over the familiar symbol of the Order. A middle aged man was seated behind a desk watching him with bleary eyes. He nodded to him in greeting and moved towards the center of the room. He craned his neck, scanning the reading desks on the upper floors. On the third floor he saw a figure seated at one of those desks, the lamp flickering like a firefly as he blocked its light from Shiro's view. The figures face was eclipsed by a stack of books placed almost strategically around its head.

Shiro mounted the stairs to the third floor and as he approached the reader he saw the stiff tips of blond hair poking out over the stacks of books. Izumi was leaning over an open book; palms pressed flat against the table, his pointed chin resting on the backs of his hands. The boy's eyes were darting back and forth as he scanned the page; Shiro could hear him whispering to himself as he read. His chair was pushed halfway out into the aisle and Shiro wondered how Izumi could be comfortable sitting in such an awkward position. After calling the kid's name three times Shiro gently laid a hand on Izumi's shoulder. Izumi's whispered recitation stopped and he lifted his head blinking slowly like a child whose alarm clock had just gone off.

"Fujimoto-san," he greeted, blinking and rubbing his eyes as he looked up. Shiro watched the kid's expression change from sleep contentment to alarm. He drew his chair in and sat up straight. "Fujimoto-san," he repeated, "Sorry. I wasn't expecting to see you here." He looked around the room for a minute as if he were searching for other people in the library. "It's so early. I . . . how are you feeling?"

Shiro took the seat across from him and purposefully moved the books that Izumi had stacked in front of him. "I'm good. How about you? Holding up all right?"

"Well . . . yeah I am," Izumi looked like he wanted to say something more, instead he looked back down at the book he had been reading.

He looked nervous. Shiro thought he knew what the problem was. "It was your first field mission right?"

Izumi scratched his head, "Well yeah, besides all those exercises I had to do in school. I was assigned to research after I got my meister. Then after Blue Night . . ." Izumi shrugged, "It was decided I would be more useful at the Vatican."

That was a big change, going from research to field work. There had to be a reason for it. Izumi looked a bit too young to be in research and there was nothing in Martina's information that would indicate he would be the type of exorcists that would be assigned to research. "Oh yeah? What kind of work were you involved in?"

Izumi fell into another long silence. Shiro could see nothing in the boy's body language or voice to indicate he was lying. Either Martina's suspicions had been wrong or Izumi was the best actor Shiro had ever met. "Fujimoto-san. Have you had a chance to speak with Kyodo-san since we got back? I haven't heard anything about him since the guards hauled him off when we got back. I'm worried about him."

"Me too, kid. And no, I haven't heard a thing about him." Shiro accepted Izumi's decision to change the subject. The truth was he had been angling for a way to bring up Kyodo's problem during his last meeting with Melchior. He was certain he had managed to convince the elder of Kyodo's usefulness. Now if he could convince the elder Grigori that the boy was not a threat to the Order and was willing to be used to further Melchior's ambitions he might be able to pull Kyodo out of the fire.

Shiro could only hope that Melchior was still influential enough to keep Kyodo safe until he could figure out a way to free the boy. Although it was looking more and more like Kyodo would have to wait until the right set of circumstances presented itself. And beneath all these thoughts there was a sad, aching, longing running through Shiro's brain whenever he thought of Kyodo. It was really starting to piss him off. He needed to get it under control soon or else it would make for some unaccountably awkward situations when Kyodo was freed.

"I know, but I thought, with all the rumors I've heard . . ."

Shiro's suspicions immediately returned. That was the kind of probing question Martina had warned him to be careful of. "They really are exaggerating a bit much aren't they? You and Kyodo were the ones who really saved the day."

Izumi blushed looking pleased and a little flustered. "I didn't do that much."

"Don't be modest." There was no way he could allow this boy to find out about his agreement with Melchior, not until he was certain where Izumi's loyalties were. More importantly, all this talk of Kyodo had reminded Shiro of the very question he had wanted to ask Izumi since he had been in the hospital. "How did you know?" he asked softly.

"How did I know?" Izumi repeated with a puzzled look on his face.

"How did you know that verse would work on Satan?" Shiro clarified.

"Oh, well. I didn't. Not at first," Izumi's eyes dropped the table in front of him for a moment. "I could see it. I didn't know the verse would work n Satan until I saw it. I'm a Divine Eye. "

Shiro leaned forward in his chair. A Divine Eye was an exorcist born with the ability to instantly recognize the fatal verse of a demon just by looking at them. "I've heard of them before, but you're the first I've actually met. How does it work?"

Shiro could see Izumi trying to put the words together. "I can see . . . there are these words that float around some demons. If I can figure out what verses those words belong to then I know the verse that will hurt that demon."

"So this works for all demons?" Such an ability would certainly explain why Izumi had been involved in research.

"More or less. Sometimes I can't see the words or I don't know the language the words are written in. Older demons are harder because they have so many words in so many different languages that it's hard to figure out which verse will work on them."

"Was that how it was with Satan?"

Izumi's eyebrows raised in alarm for a moment before dropping back. "Umm yeah. There were lots of words in lots of different languages floating around him. It was pretty hard to pick anything out of that mess."

"So you got it by making a guess." It would take an impressive amount of mental gymnastics to figure that out from floating disembodied words. "Does this sort of thing work on half demons?"

Izumi frowned, his brow creasing as he thought about it. "I don't know. I've never noticed it before. I mean, there are supposed to be demon-hybrids working for the Order and I've never met an exorcists who had the mist. It could be that the ones I did meet didn't have enough demon in them to have fatal verses."

Shiro sat watching the boy as he drummed his fingers against the table. Izumi had raised his head and was staring straight ahead, looking almost hopeful. Shiro was also reluctant to let the conversation end. He reached out and ran his fingers over the spines of the books Izumi was reading.

Izumi must have noticed his attention because the boy started to speak. "I was thinking, after that fight, that I don't really know all that much about Satan or the rulers of Gehenna. I mean, beyond the basics they told us at the Academy. I was thinking that if I knew more back then maybe I could have been more helpful, maybe you and Kyodo wouldn't have gotten so hurt."

He knew exactly where Izumi could find the information he was looking for and a plan began taking form in Shiro's mind. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. Elder demons like that rarely manifest in Assiah and when they do . . . well let's just say that there isn't a whole lot anyone can do to prepare for it. You know, if you are serious about it you might want to check the Order's archive instead of the library. I am certain that you could find more from those old field reports."

Izumi cocked his head and considered his words for a moment. "That does make sense. I guess if any elder demons manifested recently the Order would have been the ones to deal with it. And I would be able to learn from whatever tactics they used to subdue them. "The boys expression lightened and he smiled. "Thanks for the advice Fujimoto-san."

Through some unspoken arrangement the two men agreed to end the conversation. Shiro pushed back his chair, the scrape of the legs against the hard wood floor jarring in the silence of the library. He gave Izumi a polite nod.

"Umm Fujimoto-san."

"Yes."

"Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help Kyodo-san."

Shiro looked over the boy for a moment, uncertainty flushing through him. "I will." He waved and disappeared behind the stacks.

He would have to remember to come and check on Izumi's research regularly. If he was lucky the boy would be able to find something about Mephisto when he searched through old mission records. Shiro could feel the bitter taste of bile forming in the back of his throat. Not so long ago he had promised himself that he would not allow any more children to be caught up in his problems. All it had taken to change that was one meeting with Melchior and the little bit of doubt created by Martina's observations.

It was amazing how fragile all of his principles and good intentions were in the face of this threat. He had never in his life thought of using someone the way he was now using Izumi. There was no helping it, he had to use every tool available if he was going to survive with his secrets intact.


	13. Chapter 13

It was still early when Shiro stepped out of the library, the Order's early risers were just beginning to move around headquarters. Reynardine's shadow had disappeared from the hallway. Shiro suspected the fox was still nearby hiding just beyond the reach of the light. He squinted as he searched the shadows, but didn't see the slightest hint of movement.

Mephisto had still not returned from whatever mission he had been sent on and Shiro was starting to worry. If he was honest with himself Shiro knew this was worry over the demons reaction to the news he had made an arrangement with Melchior. Given the demon's eccentricities he might be pleased given the new element of danger added to their game or he might be furious that this new alliance with Melchior had undermined some of the power had had over the exorcist. Shiro wished he knew for certain either way.

Shiro's mind turned to more practical matters. The last few months had been hectic and he was running dangerously low on supplies. He hadn't had a chance to restock his supply of holy water and consecrated bullets. It was time for a visit to the stockroom.

Shiro placed his order with the stock room attendant and decided to come back in a few hours rather than wait for everything to be pulled off the shelves in the warehouse. As he was turning to leave he saw a young woman standing near the counter with a large cart.

Shiro stopped and blatantly stared at her. She was dressed in a beautifully patterned kimono half covered by a bulky woolen coat that was clearly designed for a man. The strange ensemble served to accentuated the swollen bulge of her stomach. He watched a look of frustration cross her face as the attendant brought out a large order and helped her jockey it unto her cart.

"Excuse me, do you need some help?" Shiro asked without a second thought.

The woman looked up at him and smiled gratefully. "Please don't trouble yourself I can manage on my own." That was a lie. Her tiny cart was dragging under the weight of the wrapped packages that had been placed on top of it.

Shiro said nothing, he only stopped to collect her bags. "It's no trouble at all."

The woman placed a tiny hand over her stomach and looked Shiro over carefully. He watched her suspicious eyes traveled the length of his body. They paused briefly over the Order's exorcist rank badge he kept pinned to his over coat. That seemed to satisfy her and she allowed him to take the cart handles from her.

As they approached the doors to the stockroom she reached for a key that was suspended on a chord around her neck. Shiro recognized one of the Order's enchanted keys and braced himself for what he might find on the other side. The doors swung open and cold air drifted through the portal. Shiro squinted as the mid afternoon sun streamed through the door.

He stepped out onto a high stone catwalk the cold wind biting through his clothing. He pushed the cart forward a bit as the woman stepped to the side to let him through. He left the cart and peered over the ledge at the buildings below. They seemed familiar. "This is True Cross Academy," he blurted stupidly. He reached into his own pockets groping until he felt the familiar cold weight of his own set of keys. Reassured, he started to push the little cart forward, its wheels catching roughly against the upraised stone. The woman had passed in front of him, her dark head bent low against the wind.

"That's right. Did you go to school here?" She turned her head back towards him as she spoke.

"Yeah," They had not been happy years and he was surprised by the powerful ache of nostalgia that lanced through his chest. Maybe the past always looked more beautiful than the present. "You came a long way to do some shopping. Couldn't you have just used the store on the school grounds?"

"I need to restock and there are some things I can only get through Rome," She laughed merrily. "Although I'm regretting it just a little at the moment."

Shiro cursed as the wheels of the cart slammed into the cracks of the stone work, the awkward vehicles handle tearing into his unprotected hands. He readjusted the cart and turned back to the conversation, his fingers going numb against the metal handle. If she went out to restock she must work at the small supply shop on the school grounds.

The woman stopped suddenly and turned. "That's right. My name is Natsuki Moriyama."

"Moriyama-san. I am Shiro Fujimoto."

The odd pair finally came to the end of the catwalk. Shiro looked doubtfully at the hill leading to the store front. The woman merely placed a hand on his arm and guided him around the back where the slope was not as steep. By the time they reached the back door Shiro was shivering, his hands nearly molded to the handles of the cart by the cold. He unloaded the supplies while Natsuki supervised, directing him where he could lay her packages until she could organize them later. The activity distracted him from his numb hands for a moment. When Shiro brought the last item in she closed the door behind her. The exorcist finally got a good look at the room he was standing in.

It was a kitchen modest in size and cluttered with potted plants, wall hangings, and knick knacks. Despite the clutter the kitchen was spotlessly clean; there wasn't a dirty spoon in sight. The room smelled faintly of flowers, not the cloying, chemical odor of flowery scented cleaning agents, but real flowers. Shiro had the impression of a room that was well loved and lived in. For a moment Shiro was completely at a loss as to what to do next.

Natsuki shrugged out of the bulky coat she had been wearing and draped it over one of the kitchen chairs. "Fujimoto-san," She looked him over again, her brow furrowed. "Won't you stay for some tea? It's the least I could."

"I would like that," Shiro asked where the teacups were while Natsuki put the kettle on to boil. They moved around the kitchen with companionable ease, the warmth of the room slowly easing the cold out of Shiro's fingers. "What were you doing out there by yourself on a day like today?" Shiro couldn't quite keep the disapproval out of his voice. He doubted she would have been able to push that cart down the catwalk without his help.

Natsuki laughed at him completely unperturbed by his tone. "I was just being stubborn when I went to get the supplies by myself. I could have easily waited for my husband and my Mother to get home and I chose not to. I suppose I tried to take on more than I should have," she paused for a moment and smiled mischievously. "I just never expected help from Shiro Fujimoto himself."

"I think people are exaggerating just a little," he flexed his fingers until the last of the redness eased out of his skin.

"I suppose you would know best. I only go to Rome to restock some items in the shop," she paused for a moment her face darkening, "To be honest we've been avoiding the place since Blue Night. I was finally running so low on supplies that I had to go."

Natsuki was gently rubbing her swollen stomach. Her eyes were troubled and worry lines were forming around her mouth. "I am worried. What the world will be like for her after everything that has happened. Our family has worked with True Cross for so long . . ." she shook her head. "I'm sorry. You were kind enough to help me and here I am dropping all of my worries in your lap." She smiled sheepishly and turned to look at him. "Do you have any children, Fujimoto-san?"

"I . . . no . . . yes?" He hadn't meant to make that sound like a question.

"This is my first. She should be along any day now." Natsuki raised an eyebrow at his slip, but otherwise said nothing.

Shiro was filled with an almost overwhelming curiosity. He remembered being pregnant thanks to Yuri's memories and those thoughts were filling him now. He had never had the chance to speak with another pregnant woman and he wanted to know, to share those experiences with another person who understood the full, satisfied feeling of carrying another life within them.

Natsuki poured out two cups of tea. Shiro wrapped his cold fingers around the cup and let the heat sink into his bones. The grassy scent of green tea filled the room and he inhaled. "How far along are you?" he asked.

"Eight months."

Shiro took the first sip of his tea savoring the heat and the bitter taste on his tongue. Eight months was not such a long time really. He watched that little woman as she skillfully maneuvered the bulk of her stomach and eased into a chair with a tired sigh.

He felt a twinge of sympathy as he remembered the absolute hell pregnancy had wreaked on his back and bladder. It had been especially bad those last few months. Shiro firmly turned his thoughts away from Yuri. He was still adjusting to the strange sensations Satan had left behind in his mind. It was getting easier to separate his own thoughts from the mess that represented Yuri and Satan. Sometimes those foreign thoughts would catch him completely off guard; he still couldn't hear Egin's name without the feeling of hellish rage building up inside him. Thinking about it, offering to help Natsuki earlier was a bit out of character for him.

"I don't think Satan would have any particular reason to target your family." Shiro mulled over how best to continue. There were a lot of things going on that night, events that Natsuki had no knowledge of. He wanted to put her mind at ease without revealing too much. He met her eyes and tried to convey his meaning with nothing more than a look.

Natsuki lowered her eyes and stared into her cup for a moment. She sighed for a moment before turning away from him. With her back towards him she said. "I guess we can never know what Satan was really after that night or why he chose to attack the Order like that after all this time."

Shiro released a pent up breath and sipped some more tea. She had gotten the message loud and clear. Maybe in time he would be able to tell her more. Still, Shiro felt like he owed her something, maybe because he was part of the cause for her anxiety. He wanted to share just a little of his life with her.

"To be honest, I've been thinking about adopting." A part of him had been itching to confide in someone outside of the Order about the situation he was in.

Shiro plowed through another confession. "A friend of mine passed away after blue Night. She left behind two little boys. They don't have anyone else to care for them and I feel like I should do something for them."

Shiro looked up from his tea expectantly, eager for her response. Natsuki was frowning a little; it was the most severe expression he had ever seen on her face. She swallowed a mouthful of tea and pressed her lips together. "Fujimoto-san," the woman's voice had turned to iron. "I know you have the best of intentions, but do you really understand what you are getting yourself into?" Natsuki took another moment to gather her thoughts and continued before Shiro could offer a response.

"This isn't just some responsibility to your dead friend. From the moment you adopt those children your most important task will be to raise them into respectable adults. The things you do as well as the things you don't do will shape the in ways you might not always be able to see. They will use you as their model of how a person should behave."

Somehow the way Natsuki said it made parenting sound harsh and unforgiving duty. In a way Shiro was relieved to hear her say this; to know that this anxiety wasn't specific to the foster parents of half demon children. "It's a huge responsibility and if you can't handle it then on you have no business involving yourself with those boys."

When she finished speaking Natsuki blushed and pressed her fingers to her lips. "I'm sorry. I don't know a thing about your situation. It was pretty rude of me."

Shiro couldn't help it, he laughed. Natsuki's embarrassed blush deepened. "It's fine," he said. "I needed to be reminded of that."

"To be honest, I was thinking about myself," Natsuki admitted with a smile. "It's been bothering me lately. What right do I have to be a mother?"

Shiro had no good way to answer that, not when he shared so many of the same doubts. He kept quiet, drawing warmth from his teacup. He didn't think there was anyone less qualified to be a parent than himself. "I think everyone shares those doubts," he said finally.

The conversation drifted into silence after that, Shiro absorbing the gentle heat of the room for just a bit longer. When his tea was finished Shiro rose from the table and prepared to leave, but not before promising to come back and visit Natsuki the next time he was in Japan.

He stepped out into the cold air he raised his collar against the wind. He judged he had been with Natsuki about an hour, not long enough for him to be missed. He curled his fingers into a fist then jammed his hands into his pockets. He was about halfway back to his exit to the Vatican when he felt the harsh fingers of anxiety wrap around his chest. As he walked forward those fingers tightened and he found it harder to breathe. There was a figure approaching him from the other side of the bridge and his eyes followed the exaggerated sashay of the woman's hips.

"Lamia," he said her name more out of surprise than out of greeting. The first thought that crossed his mind was how did she get inside the Academy and the second thought was _hips_.

Something behind him started to grow. Shiro jumped in a moment of thoughtless panic and reached for his sidearm. Standing behind him was Reynardine's shadow, crouched low and ready to attack. Shiro placed himself in between the two demons body hunched over, head swiveling back and forth between the two of them. He gestured for Reynardine to back down. The shadow cocked its ears indignantly, but obeyed him.

"Shiro-chan," she seemed more relieved than surprised to see him here. She stepped closer to him. As she drew near he could see how tired and strained she was. "I came to find you," she said, answering his question before he could ask. Her head inclined towards the shadowy creature in curiosity.

"What are you doing here?" They both asked at the same time. Even if Mephisto had given her access to the school grounds she wouldn't have come without reason.

"It's Yukio, the boy is sick."

A hard cold knot of fear stabbed through Shiro's gut. He forced down the rising panic and calmly asked, "What happened?"

"Master Mephisto was called away and two days later Yukio started to lose life. I've been trying everything I know to try and stop it." Her voice was rising as she spoke her hands clasped, prayer-like, in front of her. Shiro had no idea what she meant by 'lose life' but she had been worried enough to sneak into a school of demon hunters to come and find him. With these questions still swirling through his mind Shiro had no choice but to follow Lamia back to Mephisto's mansion.

* * *

So finally got around to introducing Shiemi's mother. I have no idea if she has been given a name in cannon so I went with Natsuki.

I have recently become interested in just how Shiemi's mother and Shiro came to be. From what little we see in the anime I think they know each other very well. It kind of amuses me- the thought of them bonding over child care. Of course Shiro would not have been able to let Natsuki meet the boys so I also wonder just how much she knew about the twins and where they came from.


	14. Chapter 14

"I see Mephisto redecorated," Shiro said as he followed Lamia into the mansion's greeting room. The exorcist squeezed his eyes shut against the garish glow of the orange walls accented with eggplant colored polka dots. The pattern covered everything; walls, ceilings, and the graceful spiral stairways. In the center of the room was a golden sculpture of Mephisto; complete with top hat and parasol. Shiro rubbed his eyes cursing the headache inducing color scheme and tried to walk up the stairs without falling on his ass. Waves of nausea rolled through him at the horrible color scheme. The gold statue clashed horribly with its surrounding and why would anyone want their whole house covered in polka dots.

"The Master was bored one day. I believe he wanted to try something new in the mansion." Shiro shuddered when he thought of what Mephisto might get up to when he was bored.

Shiro groaned out loud when he saw the pattern Mephisto had chosen for the second floor. The walls were painted a dark blue speckled with dark green polka dots. Both the floor and the ceiling looked like they had been covered by silver sequins.

Why polka dots? Shiro found himself wondering. He had to admit the new decoration scheme suited the demon far better than the sedate patterns he had seen during his first visit. Shiro liked to think he had come to understand Mephisto's fascination with new things and he wondered just how long this obsession with polka dots would last before the demon moved on to something new. Shiro looked down at the silver sequins embedded in the floor glinting like fish scales in the light. He wondered how many floors he would be able to handle before he tossed his cookies.

"It is my masters' house. He may do with it as he wishes, "Lamia's smile was soft and radiating wry amusements.

Fortunately, the twin's had been installed on the second floor of the mansion in the same blue room he had slept in during his brief stay. Shiro was spared the horrors of the upper floors. Everything was just as he remembered it; his bed, the bassinet, and the rocking chairs. The piles of toys shoved into the corner of the room had grown in his absence. They probably got more use from Mephisto than the twins. The only sounds were the twins' soft snores and the tread of feet upon the fibers of the carpet. He came to the side of the bassinet looked over at the boys. They were both sleeping on their backs with fists curled.

There was a rush of heat to Shiro's cheeks and his chest tightened painfully. Six weeks, he had counted six weeks since he had seen the twins. He reached out and placed a hand on Yukio's forehead. The boy wiggled at the contact and whined deep in his throat. Shiro gently ran his thumb over the creases on child's heated forehead and smiled a little as he watched Yukio flail awkwardly before snorting and drifting back into a doze.

A shadow fell over the opposite side of the bassinet. Lamia was leaning over the rail, her corners of her eyes pinched together as she frowned. "What are you doing?" She asked

"Checking his temperature," Shiro said offhandedly, his attention held completely by the sleeping twins.

Lamia reached out a blue hand and mimicked Shiro's gesture she brushed experimentally against Rin's forehead and then against Yukio's. She bit her bottom lip and repeated the gesture.

Shiro watched her for a moment before asking. "You didn't check for a fever?" It seemed like the obvious thing to do. Shiro wondered just how much he could trust Lamia with the boys care if she didn't know enough to check for fever. He had assumed Mephisto had brought her here because she knew something about caring for human children.

"The energy of his life. It felt lesser. Then he cried much more than he usually did." Lamia tilted her head towards him quizzically. "Is this normal? Does the body warm like this when there is sickness in it?" There was something off about her voice. She wasn't speaking in her usual confident and playful manner. Her eyes were glassy and she was lacking the seductive grace that normally accompanied her movements. Right now she could not have been further removed from the buxom seductress he had first met.

"Did you sense anything wrong with Rin?" He asked as he passed his palm over the other boy's forehead.

Lamia blew out an incredulous snort through her nostrils. "He is fine. He suffered more when I tried to separate them so I left the two of them together."

Shiro turned his attention back to the boys and marveled at how much they had grown in the short time he had been away. Not so long ago he had felt like they were small enough to fit in the palm of his hands. They were still too small, but they looked steadier, stronger than they had a month ago.

Lamia's seashells thunked gently against each other as she knelt against the edge of the bassinet, her eyes unfocused. Her lips were twitching, like she wanted to speak but couldn't quite find the words. Something had unsettled her. Shiro took a moment to remind himself that he didn't care either way and went back to watching the boys sleep. There was quiet for a moment which was interrupted when Rin released a thunderous fart.

Shiro wasn't sure what he heard at first. It didn't seem possible that such a tiny body could make such a loud noise (or produce such a terrible stench). The noise immediately woke both boys. The exorcist watched in horror as two tiny faces crumpled in misery and the screaming began. Lamia reached for Rin and Shiro took Yukio; grateful at least that he would not have to change that diaper.

Shiro pulled Yukio against his chest turning the infants body so he could examine those pinched, tiny features up close. The boy watched for a moment through before his blue eyes widened and Yukio started to cry harder.

He held the boy in his arms speaking calmly trying to soothe him as Lamia quickly changed Rin's diaper. Rin had already settled and was batting playfully with the shells and bones braided into her hair.

"Lamia," he called the demon. She walked over to the bassinet with Rin in her arms and inspected Yukio's ear. "Do you know where we can get a Doctor?"

The demoness looked confused for a moment. The thought of calling a doctor had simply never occurred to her. Then again, Shiro doubted that anyone who lived in this mansion had ever needed human medicine.

Shiro had never given any thought as to what he would do if the twins fell sick. Shiro looked over Lamia with her blue scales and her seashell decorations. "I will go into town and pick something up. I think you would draw too much attention to yourself."

Lamia looked down at her clothing and then looked back at Shiro with a puzzled and hurt expression on her face. Shiro grunted by way of explanation and wondered how long it had been since she had last manifested in Assiah. "I will go." He said finally.

"No," Lamia said after a beat. "We should ask Belial."

Shiro had all but forgotten about the existence of Mephisto's demonic butler. He hadn't seen much of Belial during his stay. Lamia's suggestion did make sense; Mephisto had a vast network of connections both inside and outside of the Order, contacts that his butler must have known about.

Belial was summoned to the nursery and greeted the odd pair with an unctuous smile that made Shiro's skin crawl. He watched as Lamia spoke to the other demon, and for the first time he caught himself wondering just how the strange inhabitants of this mansion spent their time when no one was watching. How did Lamia, Belial, and Mephisto all fit together? How had Mephisto turned these two powerful demons into his servants?

Shiro sat with Lamia and the colicky twins while he waited Belial to return. The demoness was seated in a rocking chair in the small nursery while Shiro paced the room. The smooth motion of Shiro's gait soothed the squalling infant and soon enough the boy was dozing and drooling on the exorcist's chest.

"I . . . used to be human," Lamia said airily, her words coming from nowhere. "I forgot that. I did this for my own children . . ."

Her voice was like an echo in a cave and there was something terrible swimming just beneath the surface of her statement. He cleared his throat and carefully settled Yukio back in the bassinet. "You used to be human?"

Shiro reached for Rin, instinct telling him that he needed to separate the two of them. Lamia recoiled from his open hands looking for all the world like a viper poised to strike. After a moment she started to relax one muscle at a time and she passed Rin into Shiro's hands.

When Rin was safely back in Shiro's hands Lamia spoke. "A long time ago." Her airy voice trailed off at the last syllable. It took Shiro a moment to remember what she was talking about. The rocking chair creaked gently as Lamia eased back into the chair. "Human children, they are very fragile, aren't they?"

Shiro had no idea what to say to that.

* * *

A short update. Aaand its only two months late. Apologies- things have been busy for me. Unfortunately, I will no longer be able to promise monthly updates. I will still do my best to get a chapter out each month but I can't guarantee anything.

Thanks everyone for sticking with this story and again, I am sorry for the two months delay.


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