Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The communal den is unusually silent, despite the cluster of ghouls gathered there. Something had felt off all day. An electricity in the air like the calm before the storm, the heavy silence before a lightning strike. 

Phil makes as if to pass through without notice, but all six silver masks snap towards the special ghoul. 

“Awfully late to be working,” Aether says mildly, testing the waters. 

Phil freezes, turning towards the group with the box he had in his hands, slowly scanning over all of the faces looking at him. “Yes, well…” He looks down at the file box again. He’d hoped to get this completed before any of the ghouls questioned him. He does not look back up when he speaks again, staring at a bit of curling red tape on the lid of the box. “With Sister Imperator dead, there are sufficient loopholes to declassify these.” 

His words may as well be the first crack of thunder. 

“What?” Alpha snaps, looking up from the model he was building at the table nearby. “Phil. It’s been decades since any of those were relevant.” 

“They deserve to know,” Phil insists, moving towards the center of the sitting area and putting the box down on the coffee table.

"What are those?” Mountain asks, glancing up from the small bonsai tree he was trimming into shape.

Quintessence shifts on the couch, sitting up to stare at the box. “Sister’s hit list files.”

Cowbell rises from the floor and comes to Phil’s side, a hulking presence that is a comfort to him as he places a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t go opening old wounds,” he rumbles. 

Phil folds his hands in front of himself as he stares at the box of files on the coffee table. “They deserve the truth. Even if it is extremely late.”

“Phil, you’re really that set on telling them?” Aether asks, quickly closing the book in his hand and tossing it down next to the box. “Why?”

"Because I’m one of the few who was around in those days.” He reaches down, carefully pulling the lid off the box and pulling a file out. “I was summoned to protect her, and was forced to stand aside when it really mattered.”

“It’s not your fault,” Cowbell says. “Your hands were tied back then. You know that.”

“You could always leave them out where they could discover them,” Phantom adds from his nest of blankets under the table, peeking his head out from underneath. 

The special ghoul flips open the file, the photo attached to the front of the folder instantly bringing tears to his eyes. 

You promised me you would keep her safe. You failed . 

The voice in the back of his head hits him like a truck, knocking the breath out of him. The last time he heard this voice was shortly after Anita’s death, screaming at him about his failure. His fingers tighten around the edges of the folder, crinkling it as he tries to force down the tears he had welling up. 

“I have to be the one to tell them. They should know. They need to know. I’ve kept it for too long,” Phil breathes, quickly closing the folder. “I should have tried to give Primo the full answer… when Stefania was murdered.”

A sudden gasp pulls all of their attention to the entrance of the den, Cowbell’s hand dropping from Phil’s shoulder. 

Sophie stands with her mouth agape, Omega at her side. 

“Oh shit,” Aether mutters. 

“What?” Sophie whispers, “She was murdered?” 

Phil does not expect it, but in his silence, it is Aether that first attempts to diffuse the situation. “Now let's just take a moment and calm down…”

“Answer the question!” Sophie snaps, looking around at the ghouls with wide eyes. “Who had her murdered? Was it Imperator?”

“Yes,” Omega sighs from his spot next to her. 

Sophie turns to look at him in disbelief and horror, but Phil cannot watch any of it. His tears drip down onto the pages of the cursed file in his hands.

"Fuck!" Sophie's hands move to cover her mouth, her eyes lost in thought for a moment before they snap to Phil once more. "Do the boys know?"

“No,” Phil sighs, slowly closing the folder and tossing it into the box as he stands. Yet another technicality. She would have to be more specific. “Why don’t we get you back upstairs to the others?” he offers softly, trying to pull himself together and putting on a smile for her.

“Fuck, Phil,” Sophie curses again, a hand moving into her hair as she looks around at the others. “If you don’t tell them right now I will.” 

Phil slowly nods, fingers toying with each other for a moment before turning away and putting the lid back on the box. 

The walk to the Papal apartments seems never-ending, filling the special ghoul with dread as he held onto the box for dear life. He pushes his silent begging for guidance to the back of his head when the voice starts laughing cruelly. 

Save your begging for my nephew. He’s the one who will decide if you remain or are banished. 

He glances over at the brunette next to him as she lets out a small huff. 

“I don’t understand why you would cover for her Phil. Rules or otherwise,” she murmurs. 

“It was easier to keep all of you safe if you were in the dark,” he offers weakly. “We’re here to silently guide and protect. You know our rules better than anyone.” 

"She was their mother! " she hisses, a finality to her tone that indicated he should stop trying to justify it. 

“It was part of our binding contract. I couldn’t speak about it unless specifically asked.” Phil glances back at Omega who is silently following them down the halls, golden eyes meeting purple as the younger ghoul watches sympathetically. 

It is then that Phil fully processes that he is the most senior ghoul topside in the Rome ministry. 

Nihil and Imperator’s ghouls had long been given the option between Forks and returning to the pit. He was the only ghoul left who had been summoned for one of Nihil’s ex-wives. The others had been summoned after the birth of each boy, or after their ascensions to higher roles. None of Phil’s mentors were left. All long retired and unwilling to get involved with ministry politics again. 

Phil’s summoning was different.

He was born out of love and sacrifice. The vessel he occupied was a man who had given his life to keep his sister safe.

His steps falter as he comes to a stop next to Sophie, staring at the door for a split second before she throws it open and steps inside. 

Good luck. The voice teases before shrinking back again, leaving him to his fate. 

The people gathered in the apartment all turn to watch as Sophie steps inside, announcing that Phil has something he wants to tell them. 

The box in his hands feels ten times heavier as he steps through the doorway. His eyes nervously flickered over each of the people looking at him, eyes landing on the children who were sitting on the floor playing. 

“I…Apologies for interrupting your evening,” he finds himself saying, forcing his eyes away from the smiling children and down to the lid of the box. 

“What’s happened, Phil?” Eliza asks, standing from her spot on the armrest of Primo’s chair. “What's in the box?” 

“This is the final box of Sister Imperator’s files.” The red sticker on the lid seems to glow. One last final order from Sister beyond the vale. Destruction of highly confidential documents. 

“Can’t this wait until morning?” Copia groans, shaking his head as he finishes the last sip of his drink. “Clergy business is to only be held during the week now.”

“It can’t,” Phil murmurs, slowly making his way toward the coffee table in the center of the living space. “I ask your approval to break the confidentiality rules put forth by the clergy, Frater, Papa,” he says, turning his head towards Copia and Gemini, hands still holding onto the box tightly. 

The Papas all look away from the ghoul and over to the twins with frowns. Copia’s eyes widen, glancing around at the others for guidance. Gemini lets out a long sigh, nodding as he stares at the box. 

Primo slowly nods, settling back in his chair, “If Phil is asking to break the rules then it must be serious.” 

“It is,” Phil whispers. “And it is not a child-friendly discussion.”

Olivia hums, nodding as she sets her wine glass down on one of the side tables and moves to collect Scottio and Mary. “You can fill me in later,” she whispers to Copia, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her husband’s cheek. 

The group is silent until the soft click of the door is heard. 

“I permit you to break the confidentiality rules,” Copia says, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. 

“You have my permission,” Gemini says, holding Lucia’s hand in both of his as one of his legs starts bouncing. 

“Thank you,” Phil breathes, slowly pulling his hands out of the slits on the side of the box and removing the lid. “These are all of the hush and death orders from 1965 to present that were ordered by Sister Imperator. It is to be destroyed. There are a few of these that I cannot keep confidential any longer.” He leans the lid against the leg of the coffee table before pulling out the first file. 

Say her name, the voice interjects.

The ghoul swallows. “Sister Anita Emeritus. Death ordered in August of 1983. Completed in September of 1984.”

Primo lets out a soft curse, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets his head hang slightly

Phil slowly sets the file down before picking up the next. “Sister Marigold Dumont Emeritus. Bribe arranged on September eighth of 1984. Move-out was completed two days later. Location to be monitored and contact kept minimal until further notice.”

Terzo lets out a sigh, hands moving to rub at his temples as Sophie gives his shoulder a squeeze. 

Phil looks over at Terzo and Sophie with a sympathetic gaze, “There are 692 letters addressed to you, sir.”

Terzo’s eyes widen, darting over towards Primo and Eliza for a moment before focusing on the ghoul again. “Where are they?” he asks weakly, leaning into his wife’s touch more as he attempts to process everything being presented to him.

“I have them kept in the archives. I can make arrangements for them to be delivered to you.” 

“Thank you,” Sophie says, wrapping her arms around Terzo and pulling him closer as he tucks his face into her neck. 

Phil nods quickly, placing the folder on the table closer to Terzo before picking up the next. “Mrs. Stefania Emeritus. Death ordered August of 1984. Completed in June of 1990.”

Secondo shifts uncomfortably as he stares at the glass in his hands, Felix scooting closer and wrapping an arm around him. 

“Sister Elizabeth Bathory-Emeritus. Ordered June of 1988.” Phil keeps his eyes on the files as everyone else turns to look at Eliza. 

The sound of a glass shattering has everyone looking towards Primo with wide eyes. “Sorry. Do continue,” he murmurs, face blank as the shards of glass slip from his hand and hit the floor. 

“Phil…” Eliza whispers, slowly sinking back down to sit on the arm of Primo’s chair. “You knew this the whole time? Did you all know?”

The ghoul slowly nods, looking up at her with guilt so palpable it couldn’t be obscured by his helm. “I did. I had to inform everyone of the orders.”

Tears well in Eliza’s eyes as she brings a hand up to cover her mouth. 

Terzo lets out a shaky breath as Sophie presses her face into his hair. 

“This whole time…” Secondo hisses, “You could have said something. Any of you could have said something.” He stands, leaving Felix alone on the couch as he starts to pace in front of the fireplace. 

Eliza stares at the box, hands moving to hold the back of her neck, leaning forward as she tries to process all of the memories rushing forward. “...all of you were so insistent about cleaning everything…” she murmurs, “Entering rooms before me when Imperator was here.”

Phil nods at her. “We did our best to keep you safe. I…” he looks back down at the red of the folder, blurring as he lays it down on the table with the others. “We couldn’t stand failing again. And we managed to keep everyone safe for a while longer.”

Secondo lets out a huff of frustration, “Was she not important enough to you?” he asks, making the ghoul look over at him. “Was my mother not worth saving for you?”

“She was fine after her appointment. She wanted to rest and sent us out. I wasn’t aware that Imperator had paid off that sibling until the completion notice was filed.” 

Primo rarely ever lost his composure. The stoic eldest brother, patriarch by default as Nihil seemed incapable of raising his own children. So it comes as a shock to everyone, when he suddenly snaps. “Phil! I jumped through all the hoops and you still-” 

Eliza lays a hand on his arm and his mouth clamps shut. The man makes a weak attempt to veil the turmoil behind his eyes and looks between his brothers. “If you’ll excuse me…” he gets up and moves briskly towards the door, and Eliza sets down her glass. 

The redhead has tears in her eyes as she looks over at Sophie. “Sorry about the glass,” she whispers, before chasing after Primo.

Phil watches as Eliza goes after Primo, straightening up slightly as he fidgets with his fingers. 

That went as well as I thought it would.

Phil squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before turning to focus on the folders laid out on the table. “I failed all of you.” 

You sure did. You’re such a joke. I gave up everything for you just to fail me.

The tightness in his chest returns, making the ghoul shift uncomfortably as he brings his hands up to fist his shirt. “I’m sorry,” he finds himself whispering as the voice keeps scolding him, trying to keep his magic in control as the voice gets louder and the dread threatens to drown him. 

Primo’s ears are ringing as he shoves the doors to the memorial chapel open. He can faintly hear Eliza calling for him as he makes his way down the aisle towards his mother’s shrine. 

This entire time, they knew. They knew what I was asking them for. He thinks back to asking the ghouls about who killed Stefania. I took the first name they gave me without asking anything else… 

He comes to a stop in front of the altar, slowly sinking to the floor as tears well in his eyes. His mothers’ murderer had just been allowed free reign of the ministry for all of these years. Allowed a spot next to his father, guiding his father into all of the choices she wanted. 

His eyes drift up to the portrait of his mother, then over at Stefania. I was old enough to spot the signs. She stepped up when I lost my mom and Imperator paid off a Sister to kill her. First my mother then Stefania.

“Dante,” Eliza breathes, sinking down onto the floor next to him as she wraps his arm around him. 

“I should have known,” he breathes, letting his wife pull him into her arms. “I should have asked more questions.”

“There’s no way you could have known,” Eliza says, pressing a kiss to his temple before squeezing him. He clings tightly to her and squeezes his eyes shut. 

“I want her body gone,” he whispers, fingers curling tightly into her sleeves. “I want them both gone. How dare they…” 

Eliza nods, resting her cheek on the top of his head as she sways gently with him, humming as she presses another kiss to his head. 

“Mama first and then almost you…” Primo’s voice wavers as he wraps his arms around her. “…I can’t lose you ‘lizabeth…”

The pair sit in silence, processing the news together in each other’s arms, until the sound of footsteps on the marble floors has them turning to face the door. 

Phil comes to a stop a few feet away, eyes nervously darting between their faces for a moment before he lowers himself to his knees and bows his head. “My deepest apologies,” his voice is soft as he keeps his eyes on the floor in front of him. “I take responsibility for the pack. We- I failed to protect those I was sworn to.”

“You knew,” Primo whispers, eyes narrowing at the ghoul. “When I asked what happened, you knew exactly who was responsible.”

“We did all we could to keep them safe. We are summoned by the clergy and bound by their word. I never knowingly allowed harm to come to anyone under my protection in my decades of service to you,” Phil’s voice is thick as he struggles to get his words out, choking on the tears of guilt that force their way out.

Primo looks up to meet his mother’s painted eyes again. “We trusted you,” he breathes. For a moment his grip tightens on Eliza, before releasing her to stand. His fists ball at his side as he looks down at the prostrating ghoul.  He cannot hide his contempt as he growls, “If you want to be held accountable for the pack, then you will be held accountable.” 

Eliza stands on shaky legs, watching her husband with wide eyes as he glares at the ghoul. 

“Go say your goodbyes,” Primo spits. “And count yourself lucky I’m not banishing every last ghoul here back to the pits.”

The next time Phil lowers himself to his knees, he is in the center of a salt circle, surrounded by the upper clergy. 

Despite his fifty-five years within the Ministry, he had never seen a banishment. 

“What will happen to my vessel?” he asks as he starts to reach for his helm, preparing to remove it and break the binding spell. 

“If the soul wants it returned then it will be. Otherwise, we’ll identify who’s body it is and make sure that it is properly laid to rest,” Copia says, looking up from the spell book he was reading with Gemini. 

It’s about time I take back control. 

“His name is Ernest,” the ghoul responds, his body suddenly feeling too small, vision blurring as he pulls his helm off and lays it down on the floor in front of him. 

Primo curses under his breath, eyes wide as he stares at the ghoul’s unmasked face. He is about to explain exactly who Phil’s vessel was, when the door is suddenly thrown open.

“Daddy! Help!” Cardinal Tobias’ twins scream as they burst into the room.

All of the upper clergy turn to watch the commotion as the twins rush to their father, the man crouching to meet them. 

There is horror and panic on the children’s faces as they clutch at his robes. “It’s Mary!” they cry as they pull the cardinal towards the door. 

At the mention of his daughter’s name, Copia is already abandoning the ritual and surging towards them.

“She tripped. We didn’t mean for it to actually work!” 

“What work?” the Cardinal asks as he and the former Papa rush out of the room and down the hall after them. 

“The portal,” the girl says, continuing to pull her father along. 

“I told you guys no more unsupervised magic!” Cardinal Tobias cries, stumbling along behind his children. 

“You’ve been letting them do magic ?” Copia asks in shock, looking over at the man with wide eyes. 

“Not without a trained adult!” he cries back. 

Phil and the rest of the Papas all rush to follow them, the ghoul hastily scooping back up his helm and shoving it on as he breaks out of the salt circle. 

The group burst into one of the smaller chapels to find Mary floating in the air above the altar, head tipped back and mouth open in a silent scream. Her body is bathed in red and orange hues, shooting up from smoking runes in the floor letting in hell’s fiery light. A ring of red candles blaze around the altar, but the heat is hotter than what the candles could possibly give off. 

Phil cuts through the stunned humans and throws himself up the altar steps, reaching up to grab the girl’s hand. The moment he touches her, it seems like gravity kicks back in, and he catches her before she has the chance to fall to the floor below. The candles all snuff themselves out as the runes dim down into a smoldering. 

Copia lets out a devastating cry, more like a wounded animal than anything human. To a stranger, it might have just been a sound. To Phil and the other Papas, they understood a single word underneath the terror: Mary. 

Phil stares down at the lifeless girl in his arms, taking in the glassy blank eyes as he climbs down from the altar. 

Empty. Like her soul had been ripped from her chest and vanished. Phil fails to notice Copia approaching until he’s reaching for the girl in his arms.

Copia carefully pulls the girl from him, sinking to his knees as he repeats her name, softly begging for her to answer him.

“She’s not there, Frater,” Phil murmurs, stepping down from the altar stone. “Her soul has been sent to the pit.” 

Primo lunges forward, yanking him away from the father-daughter pair and pushing him up against a nearby column, the long-contained rage boiling over at the possibility of another Emeritus dead because of him .  

“How dare you,” Primo hisses, “What were you thinking? Breaking the connection that abruptly? You’ve killed her!”

Copia lets out another cry at that, carefully pushing Mary’s hair out of her face. 

“I can fix this,” Phil tries, looking between Primo and Copia. “I can guide her soul back.”

“You can’t worm your way out of punishment with empty promises!” 

Terzo tries to interject, approaching Primo and Phil with his hands raised. “Primo, he could–” 

“Giovanni!” Primo snaps at his younger brother, and suddenly they are children again. Primo was a child then too, trying so hard to maintain a facade of control in the chaos. Trying so hard to be for his brothers what he was deprived of. “I will handle this!” he hisses.  

Copia cradles the girl to his chest and looks up at the ghoul. “We’ll have to summon her back then,” he says, voice wavering as he attempts to make sense of the situation. He looks between his brothers quickly, his hold on his daughter’s body tightening. “Right? That’ll bring her back?” 

“It…” Terzo hesitates, watching Primo closely, “It would only bring the next demon in line for the position forward. She would have to find a way to be assigned that rank.”

“Unless I go get her,” Phil murmurs, trying to piece together all of the thoughts rushing through his mind. “I can guide her back.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Primo growls, still caging him against the column. 

“Would that even work?” Copia asks, sniffling as he looks down at his daughter again. 

Primo grinds his teeth, staring into Phil’s pleading golden eyes, and then down at Mary’s limp body. “This ghoul can not be trusted. His silence killed my mother! My ma–” his voice breaks and he fills the space with a growl, furrowing his brow at Phil in conviction. 

“There has to be another way,” Secondo adds in solidarity, folding his arms.

Terzo shakes his head. “I can’t think of any other way. Phil can return to his vessel and bring her soul along with him. And… time is of the essence, I’m afraid–” His brothers are about to scold him once more when Copia’s fragile composure breaks.  

“He can save my daughter, Primo!” he cries desperately, tears smearing his paints down his face. 

The look in his youngest brother’s eyes is searing, unimaginable hurt. The pain, the fear, of a father losing a child. Primo never had children of his own except— he remembers holding baby Copia. Soothing him countless, restless nights. Being so afraid if he ever so much as caught a cold, and now…

“Dante…” Copia pleads weakly. “Dante, what am I going to tell Olivia?”

At once Primo’s resolve seems to crumble, and he steps back from the ghoul. “Go,” he says in a hollow voice.

Phil eyes him warily, quickly glancing at the altar. 

Copia’s eyes shut in relief and he kisses Mary’s cold forehead, murmuring promises and prayers.

“I’ll bring her back, I promise,” the ghoul says as he looks down at them. Copia does not look up, so he moves to the altar. 

With a snap of his fingers, the candles flicker back to life. He bends to rework the runes, moving as quickly as he can as he explains, “Ernest was still alive when I was summoned, but he was gravely ill,” he says, looking down at them as the circle starts to glow again. “Once my magic completely wears away, he will start to die again.” The ghoul swallows nervously. “Hopefully… we’ll be back before that.” 

“He can’t be trusted, Primo,” Secondo grits past clenched teeth. 

Primo does not turn to look at him, instead watching as Phil readies himself on the altar. “Don’t fuck this up,” he threatens. 

“Yes, sir,” Phil says, straightening his back and taking a deep breath.

Gemini steps forward, picking up the spellbook that the kids had left open on one of the pews, and begins to recite the proper incantation. 

The runes on the altar and inside of the ghoul’s helm start to glow as the incantation begins to bend reality, testing the special ghoul’s attachment to this body, to this earthly plain. 

The candle's flames grow as he feels the tether breaking, making Phil squeeze his eyes shut. Gemini’s voice starts to fade away as a roaring in his ears grows louder.

Good luck. Don’t disappoint me again. The voice is whispering, and yet it is cutting through the sound somehow. 

The ghoul distantly feels a pounding in his chest. A thrumming under his skin logic tells him is a heartbeat. 

Then the pain starts.

A burning pain that climbs up his limbs as if he is being engulfed in flame. 

His head pounds from his own screaming ringing in his ears. 

He forces his eyes open in time to watch as a bright light overtakes his vision. 

Chapter Text

Three pairs of eyes open to find themselves in three very different places. 

The first, Mary. She almost stumbles with the sudden onset of consciousness, her heart racing with panic. There is nothing familiar around her. Really there is nothing anywhere at all. It looks to be a gray, misty void on all sides except… a figure. An inky humanoid taking shape as it moves towards her. 

The second, a man. He doesn’t remember who he is at first. All he knows is pain. There are blurry figures surrounding him, their faces painted in black and white… “Ernest?” one of them asks.

 And finally, Phil. Though he doesn’t go by that name here. 

White light fades from his vision and he is forced to blink as the metal filing cabinet in front of him comes into focus. His hands shoot forward to brace himself against the cabinet, the sounds of keyboards clicking and the rustling of papers fill his ears as he waits for the spinning feeling to dissipate.

The faded motivational sticker on the top drawer seems to be mocking him, the cartoon face smiling and holding up a thumbs up. He could remember jokingly putting that sticker up to mock some of the other guardians. 

He quickly looks around with wide eyes, letting out a curse as he processes where he is. It’s exactly the spot he had been summoned from all those years ago. He looks down at himself, taking in the uniform he was wearing. New metals and ribbons had been added to his jacket, new stripes around his cuffs, and a cord marking his seniority in the mortal realm. He runs his fingers over the metals for a moment before shaking his head and turning away from the filing cabinet.

Phil starts to cut through the office space, weaving between desks with mostly unfamiliar faces sitting at them. He breaks into a light jog, the medals attached to the front of his uniform jacket clicking together as he moves. 

Phil slides to a stop in front of a reception desk. The receptionist has their back to him, digging in a file cabinet of their own, but looks back as he approaches.

“Can I help you, Guardian?” he asks, a polite smile forming as he returns to his chair. 

“Yes, uh…” he leans away from the raised edge of the desk to check the ghoul’s name tag. “Amy. I was wondering if reports of an unaccompanied soul of a human child have been filed yet. Wouldn’t have come in the normal channels. It was an unauthorized portal.”

The ghoul raises an eyebrow, rolling his eyes as he starts looking through the papers piled on his desk. “Human child? Don’t you have a soul to care for already?” 

“It’s complicated,” Phil sighs, leaning an arm against the desk as he peers over the desk at all of the papers. 

“Lose your vessel then? We weren’t expecting you back for a few decades more.” 

“No. It’s waiting for me. This wasn’t something I could just call in about. Requires a uh- more personal touch.” 

“Uh-huh…” the ghoul hums in mock understanding, flicking through the last of his reports and looking up at him again. “No lost souls. You might want to check with the Reapers, they would get the report before any of us did. As for a portal, there was one or two not long ago that just came in over fax. Is there anything else I can help you with?” 

“No. Thanks,” he pats the desk before rushing away towards the way out of the office. 

Phil slips out into the hallway, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he lets out a curse. 

“Fuck, think Phil think,” he whispers to himself, hands coming up to push through his hair only for his fingers to get caught on his horns. I really have been topside too long.  

He glances around the empty hall. Flat, damp carpet. Dark walls. The environment was beginning to feel familiar again, though he wouldn’t quite call it home. With a deep breath of stale air, he starts down the hall, away from his old department.

Copia sits cradling Mary’s body close, his legs long-numb from holding the position. The chapel is quiet. The others had long been sent away. 

He finds some comfort in the slow rise and fall of her chest, hoping against all logic that she might wake up on her own. 

“Frater?” Aether’s voice is soft as he steps into the chapel, the light from the hall spilling in and lighting the man left alone in front of the altar. 

“Aether,” Copia whispers, slowly turning to face his ghoul, his eye paint melted down his cheeks. “What am I going to tell Olivia?” he repeats the same question he’d asked Primo, but his voice is rougher now from the hours spent crying. 

Aether’s eyes drift from Copia’s face down to the girl in his arms, silently taking in the blank expression on her face, as he crouches at his human’s side. “The truth,” he offers, reaching out and setting his hand on the man’s shoulder. “We need to keep her safe until she comes back.” 

Copia slowly nods, pressing a kiss to the girl’s forehead, “Where is she?” 

“Mrs. Olivia is currently in your apartment. The others are with her.” Aether helps the man stand, reaching out to gently move Mary’s arm into a more relaxed position. 

“Does she…” he swallows thickly, tightening his hold on Mary. 

“She knows there was an accident,” Aether replies, walking alongside Copia as they head towards the doors out of the chapel. “The other packs are making sure the halls are kept clear.”

Olivia quickly stands when she hears the door open, the ghouls scattered around the apartment instantly falling silent. 

A choked gasp escapes her as Copia steps through the doorway, eyes instantly falling to the too-still girl in his arms. “No no no,” she murmurs, tears pooling in her eyes as she rushes over to her husband. 

“Liv,” Copia starts, voice catching as he struggles to figure out where to start. 

“Please,” Olivia whispers as she smooths the back of her hand over Mary’s cheek, “Mary, come on darling.” She shakes her head as she prays for the girl to move, silently hoping that all of this is some twisted joke. 

“I’m sorry,” Copia whispers. “Phil has gone after her.” 

Olivia takes hold of Mary’s hand, the cold skin making the situation fully sink in, ripping a sob out of her as she presses the girl’s hand to her face. She looks up at her husband, snatching a handful of his shirt with her other hand. “C,” she chokes up, leaning her head forward against his chest as sobs spilled out, “You promised that we were safe around all this!” 

Copia squeezes his eyes shut at her words, slowly sinking to the floor as Olivia collapses. He can’t help but repeat his apologies as his wife pulls their child into her lap, her sobs shattering his heart to dust.

“Who the fuck brought an unauthorized Emeritus here?” a reaper in a black suit and glasses yells from the top of a desk as Phil steps through the doors of the Soul Collection department. “And a child at that!”

The other reapers look around at each other with frowns, a few shrugging, all confused about what their manager was talking about. 

“Someone better have a good explanation for it or I’ll have all of you working overtime!”

Phil tries to quietly close the door behind him, but the clicking latch has everyone turning to look at him. He clears his throat. “I am looking for that unauthorized Emeritus. Can you point me in her direction?” 

The manager narrows his eyes, quickly hopping down from the desk before hurrying over towards Phil. “Some Guardian you are. Do you know how much of a mess your charge has caused?” 

Phil lets out a sigh, forcing a polite smile on his face, “I claim responsibility for the mess. I am to transport her soul back to the human realm. I need to get her back as soon as possible.”

Yellow and green eyes narrow behind the reaper’s glasses, staring down at the ghoul with a frown and holding out his hand. “Let's see them then.”

Phil looks between his face and hand for a second before looking over at one of the other reapers. 

‘Transfer papers,’ she mouths, offering him a nervous thumbs up. 

“Oh, the transfer papers… Right,” Phil smooths his hands over his pockets before slowly taking a step back. “I don’t have any. She fell into a portal and I came to get her. She’s not meant to be here.”

“Whether she is supposed to be here or not, she is. That means you need to follow protocol. You do know what that is right? Or have you been topside too long?” The man straightens up slightly, snapping his fingers and summoning a stack of papers. “We will consider releasing her soul to you if all of the paperwork is in order.” 

Phil stares at the stack in his hands, determination filling him. This is why he needed to be sent. No ghoul could file paperwork as quickly and accurately as he could. A stack of this size would only take him a few hours.

“Alright.” He reaches to take the paperwork from the reaper, but his grip holds fast. 

“Be sure to fill this out with as much detail as possible. We’ll also need upper management’s signatures to put a rush on this.” 

Phil’s eyes widen as he is finally given the documents. Upper management… now that would not be easy.

The reaper smiles and pushes up his glasses. “Go on now, Guardian Knight of House Thesabond. We don’t have time to deal with you. She’ll have been taken to the Emeritus Estate by now.” 

He forces himself to nod, sparing a glance at the paperwork before starting to back out of the room.

The grass around his feet is quickly dying, a side effect of being an earth ghoul, as he stares down at his feet. 

I should have been with her. Mountain’s fists clench at his sides as he tries to blink away the tears that have been welling ever since Copia returned with Mary. I’m her guardian and I wasn’t there when she needed me to protect her.

“Fuck,” he hisses, crouching down as he grabs hold of the edges of his helm. He isn’t sure how long he stays like that, but the soft sound of the grass crunching underfoot pulls him from his thoughts.

“Hey kid,” Pebble’s voice calls, “Everyone is looking for you and you’re out here killing the lawn?” 

Mountain forces himself to look over at the older earth ghoul. “Why wasn’t I there? What could be so important that I wouldn’t be at her side?” he finds himself asking, eyes following the ghoul as he comes to a stop next to him. 

“If anyone can fix this, it’s Phil,” Pebble says, reaching down and clapping Mountain on the shoulder. “We can’t be everywhere at once.”

“I should have been there,” Mountain snaps, pulling away from the ghoul and standing up. “It’s my job to be there for her!” 

“You were summoned for the then Cardinal Copia, not her,” Pebble’s voice is stern as he grabs the younger ghoul’s arm and holds it tightly. “As much as your role here has changed, you are only bonded to one human and that’s him. You feel his heart beating in your chest. Not hers.” 

Tears spill over as he looks down at the shorter ghoul. “He trusted me to protect her and I failed.” 

“We all failed her, kid,” Pebble sighs, shaking his head as he turns away, moving to drag the taller ghoul along behind him. “Come on.” 

“Where are we going?” Mountain asks, a hand coming up to wipe the tears off of his mask. 

“To be at our masters’ sides. No matter how much they hate it. We’ve been too relaxed around here and without Phil, there is a lot of slack to be picked up.” 

Mountain follows him through the grass, watching as the other ghoul’s footsteps turn the grass green again. 

The papal apartment hall was a flurry of activity by the time they reached it. 

Terzo’s ghouls were stacking file boxes in the hall outside of his apartment. Phil’s neat handwriting marks each one as belonging to Terzo along with some dates. The group all seem somber, silently moving past the others without looking over at them. 

“Where the fuck did Phil keep the storage keys?” Lake blurts in frustration, stepping out of Imperator’s apartment with a large box in his hands. “Where are we supposed to store all this shit anyways?” 

“He had keys?” Mist asks, slipping past him, jogging down the hall past the entering earth ghouls and down the stairs, leaving Lake to look down at the bin for a second.

“Wait! Where the fuck are you going?” Lake calls, chasing after her. “We’re to clear her shit out of here!” 

Pebble comes to a stop outside of Copia and Olivia’s apartment, turning to face the taller ghoul. “You go be by her side as long as they let you,” Pebble sighs, reaching up and adjusting Mountain’s tie back into place. “Go be useful. It’s what Phil would want.” 

The taller ghoul nods, chewing his lip before turning towards the door and knocking softly. 

Rain pulls open the door, stepping to the side after spotting Mountain, “Come in,” he whispers. “They’re in Mary’s room.”

The earth ghoul nods in thanks as he slips past the water ghoul. Instantly the somber atmosphere hits him, along with worried glances sent his way by the other ghouls in the apartment silently cleaning.

Phantom turns from where he’s scrubbing at the mantel, his usual helm replaced by one of their silver, exposing tear-filled eyes.

Mountain’s eyes meet his for a second, giving him a small nod, before knocking on the door to Mary’s room. 

Phantom watches closely as Aether open the door, letting the earth ghoul enter before closing the door behind him. “Is Mount gonna be okay?” he whispers nervously, looking over towards the ghoulettes. 

Cumulus sighs, her dusting interrupted for a moment as she considers her answer. “I don’t think they’ll do anything rash.” She tries to give him a reassuring look, before turning back to look at the holiday portrait on the mantle. Copia, Olivia, and Mary smile at her behind the glass of the frame. “At least I hope not…” 

“Not until her body gives out,” Cirrus murmurs, walking past the two with a wilted vase of flowers, and heading into the kitchen where the Swiss and Rain were working. 

“Don’t say shit like that, Cir,” Swiss hisses, shaking his head as he continues to scrub at the stovetop. “Phil will bring her back.” 

The ghoulette sighs, not sparing the multi-ghoul a glance as she throws out the old flowers and pours the water from the vase down the sink. “You know as much as I do that he’ll be an outcast. I’m sure upper management will have a field day with him.” 

“Stop it,” Rain snaps, his grip suddenly tightening enough to break the plate he was drying. “Stop talking like you want him to fail!” 

Dew quickly tosses away the dish towel he was folding and puts himself between Rain and Cirrus.  “Rain, why don’t you go see if anyone in the greenhouse can spare some new flowers?” he offers, trying to sound cheerful. He pulls the vase out of Cirrus’s hands and encourages the water ghoul to let go of the broken plate.

Rain doesn’t take his eyes off the ghoulette as he takes hold of the vase, setting the plate shards down on the countertop. “Don’t let the boss hear you talking like that, Cir. I wouldn’t want to test his patience right now,” he says through gritted teeth as he brushes past the air ghoulette. 

He has to force himself not to slam the door, holding onto the vase tightly as he forces himself to take a deep breath. Rain takes a moment, leaning his back against the closed door as he tries to keep from crying again. 

Rain clears his throat as he starts to walk down the hall towards the stairs. The ghouls he passes are all quietly working or crying, trying their best to keep out of sight of any of the humans that might be making their way through the halls. 

The older water ghouls he passes look over at him with sympathetic gazes, already having swapped into their black masks and robes. They’re already grieving. He picks up his pace, clutching the vase tight to his chest as he slips out the doors leading out to the gardens and greenhouse. 

His eyes dart over to the large patch of dead grass for a second before spotting two people in the greenhouse. Their forms are fuzzy through the frosted glass, making his eyes narrow in confusion as he tries to figure out who they could be. 

Rain peaks through the glass of the front door, freezing as he spots Terzo and Sophie inside. Their muffled argument bleeds through the glass, the woman letting out a sob as she stands in the center of the greenhouse. Rain backs away, deciding to give the pair some privacy, and moving around to the back entrance. He pulls a spare set of snips from the bin by the back door before making his way to the rows of flowers that are blooming.

He kneels down at the end of the row, setting down the vase and looking over the flowers. He finds himself drawn to the yellow ones, starting to snip them free and putting them into the vase. 

“Mrs. Sophie is going to be upset if you butcher all of her yellow tulips, Raindrop.” Ivy’s voice makes Rain jump, looking up at the earth ghoul with wide eyes. 

“I just need a few. Just enough to make Mary smile when she comes back,” Rain says, clutching the snips tightly as he locks eyes with the other ghoul. 

Ivy seems to raise an eyebrow under his helm before sighing, “Just a few. Mix in some pink carnations as well. We planted too many of them this season.” He sets down the buckets he is carrying, pulling some of the small pink flowers for the water ghoul. He holds his hand out, making Rain stare at it in confusion. “Snips,” he gently requests after a few moments of silence.

Rain quickly passes them over, watching as the earth ghoul expertly snips the flowers to the correct length before slipping them into the vase. “How are they?” he asks after a moment, the repetitive snipping and tapping of the stems of the edge of the bucket calming. “Mrs. Sophie and Terzo?”

“They have been better,” Ivy says after a moment, placing the last bloom. “This has dug up a lot of emotions.” 

Rain hums in sympathy, nodding as he picks up the vase and stands. He opens his mouth to say something only for the argument previously contained in the greenhouse to come spilling out. 

“I am done with this conversation, Terzo!” Sophie screams, stepping out of the greenhouse and into the field. 

“Sophie!” Terzo calls, stepping out after her. “Don’t walk away from me!”

“Run along, Raindrop. No need for you to get sucked into this,” Ivy whispers, jerking his chin towards the ministry as he picks up the buckets. 

Sophie whips around, eyes narrowed as she points at her husband, “I will not be ordered around like this. Stop it. Get your head on straight. Then we can talk.”

Terzo opens his mouth to protest only to have Sophie hiss, “ Don’t,” before storming off again.

Rain is quick to nod, hugging the vase tightly again before rushing through the gardens and back inside, leaving Ivy standing there watching the pair fight. 

Once inside, he decides to cut past the offices which are abuzz with activity. Primo’s ghouls seem to be moving back and forth between Nihil, Imperator, and Phil’s offices.

“Why are people calling me asking if they can book space here for events?” Quintessence asks from inside Phil’s office as Rain passes by. “Since when do we do events?” 

“I think we do weddings sometimes,” Fire calls from across the hall in Imperator’s office where he was emptying desk drawers into boxes. There’s the clatter of a drawer being dropped before the ghoul lets out a confused noise. 

“The occasional sweet sixteen as well,” Water adds, giving Rain a small shrug. 

“Does anyone know what these keys are for?” Fire asks, stepping into the hall and holding up a key ring. 

“Fuck if I know. I’m still struggling to find where Phil took the incoming mail,” Zephyr says, walking towards Rain with a post office sorting bin.

Chapter Text

The air is thick and sharp. It coats Mary’s throat as she takes in a breath, and screams.

The dark figure floating towards her pauses. It seems to incline its head at her, bright purple eyes blinking from darkness. “Are you alright, kiddo?” A deep voice cuts through the cloying fog.

Mary blinks back, suddenly unsure what to do, her muscles frozen in a position that suggests she might run. “What?” she asks hesitantly.

“Are you alright? You aren’t supposed to be here,” the figure says.

“I don’t know.” Her muscles relax into a slump as she looks around again. There is nothing but the figure before her, and endless gray fog. It isn’t cool and misty, though. It is dry and hot and smells like char, almost like it could be smoke, but it doesn’t swirl like it should. “Where is ‘here’?” she asks.

“This is the pit.”

“Like where ghouls come from?” Her eyes widen as she quickly looks around. “Where is everybody?”

The shadow, who she now realizes must be a vessel-less ghoul, leans in to look her over. “You must be from that human ministry. What’s your name?”

Mary quickly nods, “Mary Sinclaire-Emeritus. My dad was Papa of the ministry.”

“Emeritus?” The figure seems to blink in surprise, pulling back and offering out its hand. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? Let's get you back to where you belong.”

As soon as she takes the ‘hand’ offered to her, a new environment blinks into existence around her. They are standing before a ghostly manor, pale walls almost translucent. A suggestion of flowers and shrubbery line the outside, seeming to Mary like only concentrated puffs of mist. She looks back up into the ghoul’s empty face nervously.

“Here we are,” they say kindly, so she continues holding their hand as they walk her to the front door. The great doors open and it is a new world again, this time almost appearing to be real.

Before her is a grand, sparkling entrance hall of white and black marble, a fountain bubbling quietly at its center. The windows almost seem to be letting in light, but it isn’t quite right, too white to be the sun. Everything is still a little fuzzy and gray.

A woman’s laughter drifts down to them, and they follow it up a grand staircase. It’s only once in the doorway that the ghoul releases her hand.

“Miss Mary Emeritus,” the ghoul announces, bowing to the two ghostly women inside before backing away and disappearing with a soft pop.

The woman with long blonde hair stands, a confused expression on her fuzzy features. Features that seem almost familiar, but Mary is sure she doesn’t know her. “Mary Emeritus?” the woman repeats. Her voice is soft and pleasant despite the unnerving surroundings.

She shares a look with the other woman, who joins her in standing. They both smile, and there is a flicker of recognition in Mary now: the woman speaking has uncle Primo’s smile. “A granddaughter,” she says to the other woman under her breath, and their smiles turn giddy before facing Mary again.

They don't seem dangerous, but this is all so overwhelming. Mary stays frozen as they stride to meet her. They don’t have any visible feet, yet Mary can hear the faint clicks of heels as they walk. 

The other woman with shorter hair kneels in front of her with a kind smile. “Welcome home, Mary. You can call me Mama Stefania.”

“Stefania?” The name itches at the back of her mind. Isn’t there a shrine for her?  

“And you can call me Mama Anita.” Anita kneels too, and turns to whisper to Stefania, “Oh this is so fun I thought I’d never get a granny name.”

“You’re my… grannies?” Mary asks hesitantly. The ghostly women beam and nod at her. They don’t look old. And Mary doesn’t have any living grannies. “But you’re…” the realization dawns on her and she immediately bristles at it. “I’m not dead,” she says defensively.

Anita’s eyes go round with sympathy, a translucent hand reaching for her own.

Mary stares down in horror. Their hands are the same translucent gray.

“It’s alright, darling,” Anita murmurs soothingly, “it’s only scary before you get used to it.”  

Her hand feels more solid than the ghoul’s. Everything, suddenly, feels a little bit more solid. More like home. She gets the feeling that if she does not leave here soon… it might all start to feel more real.

Felix sighs, blankly staring at his laptop screen in the too-quiet apartment.

The front door opens and he blinks into focus, forcing a weak smile and closing the laptop. “Hey,” he murmurs as Secondo enters with a few ghouls trailing along behind him. 

His husband presses a brief kiss to the top of his head as he passes, taking the ghouls into the office and shutting the door behind him.

Felix is left alone once more. 

He stares at the closed door, not blinking until tears well in his eyes. He pulls off his glasses and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. Stars burst behind his closed eyelids as he lets out another long breath.

Tensions are high, he understands that. It makes sense after every insane revelation they'd had. But how much more of this would he be expected to withstand? He had hardly gotten any time alone with Secondo since being sucked into family dinners with the others almost every night. 

It seemed like the moment Imperator died, all of Gemini’s misdeeds had been quickly forgiven. The masses Felix once enjoyed now filled him with anxiety and dread, stuck staring at the man who had once drugged and kidnapped him. 

In the few days after Imperator’s passing, Felix had been given a half-hearted apology from the man. It was absurd, the whole situation was brushed under the rug as if it was nothing more than accidentally taking the wrong bag at the airport. 

Felix supposed Secondo got over so quickly because of his unconventional upbringing. He had watched Nihil fuck up time and time again, only to have Imperator come back each time. He had seen Primo put his younger siblings first, becoming a father to them in all of the ways that mattered. Their brotherhood, family , was everything to them. 

But it left Felix feeling isolated. For once it felt like he couldn’t even go to Eliza with his feelings. The woman had raised Secondo after his mother passed, nearly as much a victim in all this as Secondo.

His phone buzzes, pulling him from his thoughts. He blinks hard and replaces his glasses to stare at the screen. His eyes widen at the text messages that start to flood in. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

Felix is quick to stand, grabbing his keys before rushing out the door of the apartment.

“Here we are,” Felix sighs, unlocking the door to his apartment and stepping inside. He lets Sophie in past him before locking the door behind them. “Make yourself at home.” 

“Lex,” Sophie says, standing in the living room with her hands on her hips, scanning over the space. “Whose apartment is this?”

He hums in confusion, tossing his keys into a bowl by the door as he follows after her. “It’s mine,” he says, giving her a small shrug and moving into the kitchen. “Why?” 

“Yours? Since when?” she asks, moving over to the bookshelves, looking over the collection of encyclopedias and books of sheet music. 

“I started renting this place, oh… about two months ago,” he calls, pulling open the fridge. “Can I get you anything? Water? Wine? Vodka?” 

Sophie frowns, turning to face Felix as the man turns holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a handle of chilled vodka in the other. “It’s a bit early for the hard stuff,” she says, making her way over. “I’ll take a glass of wine.” 

He smiles, slipping the vodka back into the fridge before pulling out two wine glasses and sitting down at the kitchen island with her. “Now,” he starts uncorking the wine and starting to pour two generous glasses. “Tell me all about this argument.” He pushes a glass towards her with a raised eyebrow. “One that made you want to run away.” 

Sophie sighs, picking up the glass, “It’s going to be a long story.” 

“We have all the time we want,” Felix says, setting the bottle down as he picks up his glass and taps it against hers.

Ernest jolts awake with a gasp. Phantom hands press down on his limbs and he thrashes instinctively– only to find they are bedsheets. He struggles to take in a deep breath. His chest is tight with panic as he pushes at the covers.

The room is dark, the only light drifting in through the small windows near the ceiling, and the shadows seem to loom over him.  

When he manages to sit up, his hands clutch at his shirt, trying to go through the breathing techniques he'd been given long before he had given up his body. His eyes squint as he focuses on his knees, taking in the gray skin against the stark white sheets. It’s just dark… I just look gray because it’s dark. 

With shaking hands he pushes his hair out of his face, staring at the mirror over the dresser nearby. Glowing orange eyes stare back at him.  He jumps at the sight. For a moment, he was sure that the monster from his nightmare was there, taunting him in the mirror. But when he scrambles back against the headboard, the reflection mimics him. 

Ernest’s hands slowly move towards his own face, feeling his skin as he looks between the two eyes in the mirror. Suddenly the reality of the situation pops back into his mind. He had given up his humanity and let a ghoul turn his body into its vessel. The ghoul’s magic turned him into this… 

He forces himself to turn away from the mirror with a resigned sigh. He swings his legs off the bed, taking a moment to adjust before standing. Could he even consider this body his own anymore? It had long been converted into a perfect home for a ghoul. 

The thought sat with him bitterly at first, but at least he was here. He was alive. 

If he was getting a chance to live again, no matter how long, he was going to take it, enjoy the gift this situation had given him. His first few steps are wobbly, making him reach to lean on the furniture around him as he gets more accustomed to walking again. 

He pulls on the random casual clothes that Phil had acquired over the years, pairing an especially soft pullover with casual pants and shoving on a pair of shoes. Before closing the door, he catches a glimpse of silver that gives him pause. 

At the top of the closet is a row of silver masks staring down at him. He stares back, and isn’t quite sure what to feel. He remembers feeling so much contempt for the ghoul that failed him, but he also carries the impressions of that ghoul’s memories now. The masks leave an odd fondness bubbling up in him, and he doesn’t fight it. When he closes the closet door, there is a small smile on his face.

The soft sounds of crickets and other nocturnal critters fill his ears as he steps out the back door. The gardens are dimly lit by small lanterns lining the path, but the darkness welcomes Ernest kindly. His eyes are perfectly adapted to it. The darkest corners of the garden seem to him more comfortable than the confines of bedsheets. 

He spots something moving amongst the greenery. A flit of a green glow, and then another, bumbling around shrubs and surfing on the breeze. 

Fireflies. Ernest wonders with idle amusement, what the creatures would make of him and his glowing orange eyes.

“It’s awfully late, shouldn’t you be in…” the voice behind him trails off suddenly as their footsteps stop.

Ernest turns from his spot on the top rail of the fence, smile relaxed as he looks at the earth ghoul standing there. “Hello Cowbell. Join me?” he murmurs, patting the fence next to him. 

The ghoul lets out a sad laugh, moving closer and resting his arms on the top rail. “I’m sure Papa would be rather upset if we broke the fence.” 

Ernest can’t help but laugh too. “I’m sure most anything would upset my nephews right now.” 

Cowbell hums, seeming to agree with him for a second before quickly apologizing. “I forgot my place for a moment,” he whispers, straightening up and pulling away from the fence. 

“It’s alright… I know how things were between you two.” Ernest turns back towards the field, feet slowly kicking in the air. “He cared deeply for you.” 

Cowbell is silent, staring at the former vessel with wide green eyes, glowing out of the slits of his mask. 

“He was silly about things like that,” Ernest chuckles, turning back towards him, eyes soft as he watches the ghoul shift nervously. “He used to get so flustered when Glenn came around to see us. Feelings weren’t his strong suit back in the day.”

The earth ghoul’s head tilts in confusion, eyes narrowing with his silent question, making Ernest laugh again. 

“Glenn was my partner. Phil passed along messages for me occasionally.”

The ghoul slowly nods, looking away from Ernest and out at the field of fireflies as he tries to figure out what to say. “I’m sure you’ll be excited to see him again.” 

Ernest lets out a sigh, so similar to Phil’s that forces Cowbell to quickly push down the feelings that were quickly bubbling up. “Like most of the people I once knew, he’s gone.”

“Apologies,” Bell whispers, fingers drumming nervously against the fence. 

They sit in silence for a while, watching the fireflies. Eventually Ernest asks, “Why are your eyes green?”

It seems an odd question to ask but harmless enough. “I am an earth ghoul.” 

“They resemble fireflies,” Ernest comments, still staring out at the garden before them. 

Bell smiles under his mask. “I suppose they do.” He looks back out, following Ernest’s gaze. The fireflies were beginning to blink away with the fading night. The sun would be coming up soon. “Let’s go in, he says, pulling away from the fence. 

Ernest nods, sliding down from his spot, and landing on the ground with a stumble. “Fuck,” he hisses, hand scrambling to grab at the fence before he could fully hit the ground.

Phil stands at the gates to the Emeritus Estate, holding the documents close to his chest as he tries to work up the courage to go in. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to temper a whirlwind of emotions.

A slow sigh escapes him as he opens his eyes and steps through the gates, starting up the path leading to the large house. 

The main hall was silent, instantly putting Phil on edge again as his footsteps echo on the stone floors. A couple coming in after him rush past, their ghoul silently falling into step besides Phil. 

“Still working on her intake forms?” the higher ranking quintessence ghoul asks, looking down at Phil with a raised eyebrow. 

“Custody request, actually. She’s not supposed to be here yet,” he finds himself saying as they turn the corner into a sitting room. The ghoul snorts, shaking his head as he moves over to where the other ghouls are gathering in the corner of the room, leaving Phil alone in the doorway. 

He stares across the room where Anita, Stefania, and Mary are speaking with the couple that had rushed past him. The young girl is clinging to Anita’s skirt as she stares at the ghouls with wide eyes. Phil braces himself, drawing up enough of his magic to glamour into a form closer to the one he had had topside. 

The magic fizzles up on his skin as he takes a few more steps into the room. 

Her head whips towards the noise, a smile instantly spreading across her face as she breaks away from Anita’s side and rushes over to him. “Phil!” she screams excitedly, slamming into him hard as she wraps her arms around his waist. 

He shifts the documents into one hand as his other moves to the back of her head, returning the hug. “Hello Miss,” he whispers, kneeling down as the girl starts to cry. 

“Am I dead?” she asks with a sob, pressing her face into his shoulder as the adults in the room fall silent. 

“No, no,” he quickly assures, setting down the papers as he hugs her, “I just have some paperwork to do then we can get back.” He keeps his eyes on the floor as he sways with her, trying to mimic the comforting he had seen Copia or Olivia do these past few years. He can’t bring himself to look up at the women he failed, a rather cowardly move on his part, and as guilt starts to claw at him he squeezes his eyes shut. 

Mary pulls back after a few more moments, and wipes at her tears with her arm. “Are they mad?” she whispers, sniffling as her eyes scan over his face.

“Frater and Mrs. Olivia?” he asks, gently pushing hair out of her face. His chest tightens again as he is reminded of the events in the chapel. Copia with his paints smeared down his face in anguish. Primo shouting. Not mad at you, he thought unhelpfully. “No,” he says resolutely, “They just want you back safe.” 

Mary releases a sound somewhere between a hiccup and a sigh. “Okay.” She rubs at her face once more, though the tears seemed to have stopped coming. 

“Hello Phil.” 

Her voice makes him look up, staying on his knees in front of her. “Hello ma’am,” he breathes, eyes locking onto Anita’s smiling face.

Chapter Text

Gemini lays on the floor of his mother’s old apartment (his new apartment, he supposed) face blank as he stares out the window towards the evening sky. 

He’d had his belongings moved up In the days after his ascension. Most of it still lingers in stacks of boxes and suitcases. 

He lets out a slow breath, trying to push away the anxiety that kept bubbling up each time he thought about going into the bedroom to unpack his things. His brothers’ ghouls may have done a thorough job of removing her posessions (not even sparing a moment to ask him what he actually wished to keep) but the room still smelled of her perfume. The furniture still screamed of her taste, even in the disorderly state they had left it in.

He didn’t know what to feel when faced with what remained of his mother. He knew, logically, that she was not a good person. He hated her sometimes, now, and when she was alive. Maybe it was shameful to grieve someone like her, but he couldn’t shake it. She was his mother. And though the others might not believe it, she had sometimes even been a good mother.

The good memories were just painful now, wrapped in shame and regret, but still most of all: grief.

A soft meow has his eyes flicking towards the cat tree. Sinatra stretches as he lets out a yawn, then hops down and makes his way over to the man laying on the floor. 

“Hello Sin,” he mumbles, eyes watering as he reaches out a hand to the tux. The cat lets out another small meow, leaning into his hand as he looks around the living room. “Mother is gone, remember? It’s just us now,” his voice cracks slightly as he focuses more on the cat. 

Gone. It felt like a bit of an understatement, if he was being honest. His brothers’ mothers were gone, but they could at least visit them. Their mothers had shrines. His didn’t. No formal funeral for her. No memorial mass. Just Copia bickering with thin air claiming that their- his mother didn’t want any of that. 

First he was told that he wouldn’t be able to set up a shrine without his mother’s ashes. Then he was told that there wasn’t room for another shrine in that chapel and he would need to select one of the smaller worship rooms. Now it was devolving into Primo wanting every last trace of his mother wiped from everything in the ministry. 

Another meow pulls his attention back to the insistent cat, who promptly walks over Gemini’s chest to get to his food bowl. It forces the air from his lungs in a huff that turns into a chuckle.  

“Dinner time for you already, Sin?” he asks, slowly sitting up and checking his watch. A curse escapes him as he reads the time, quickly standing up and rushing to feed the cat. The others wouldn’t be happy, he was nearly fifteen minutes late to dinner. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, stepping out into the hallway and fumbling with the keys in his hand before giving up on locking the door. He’d let the ghouls steal any of the carpets or furniture but he would sooner banish them all if they thought about touching the only true piece of her he had left, the fucking cat.

Gemini slides his keys into his pockets, making his way down the hall. The walk seems to drag on as he struggles to figure out how to phrase the requests he needed to make. 

He reminds himself that he is Papa now. He is in charge.

He straightens up as he comes to a stop outside of the state room. The muffled sounds of impassioned conversation await him, as has been the norm since everything went to shit. Up till now, he had been largely quiet, but it was time to speak his piece.

None of them look over as he enters. 

Copia sits at the end of the table closest to the door staring down his plate.  Terzo is sprawled out in two chairs across from Primo and Secondo. The one open seat, his seat, sits isolated on the opposite end of the table.

Gemini doesn’t bother saying hello, instead quietly moving to his chair. 

“-- to banish all of the ghouls who were involved in the murders. We have to set an example,” Secondo snaps, slamming his fist on the table. “It’s about time that they receive justice.” 

Terzo shifts uncomfortably, taking a long sip of his wine as his eyes dart between his brothers. 

Gemini begins to serve himself from the largely untouched platter of food in the center of the table.

Primo lets out a sigh, “It is impossible to know which ones might still be following her orders. Perhaps the ministry has outgrown the need for ghouls.” 

The statement causes Gemini to stop and look up. “I strongly disagree.” His words slip from his mouth before he can back down. This is his chance. His heart races as the others fall silent and look over at him. 

“Oh?” Primo’s voice is tense, face carefully blank as he stares at him. “Why would you say that?”

Gemini clears his throat, setting down the serving tongs and plate to fold his hands on the edge of the table. “The workload I am facing during this transition is crushing me… The work that is normally given to ghouls during this time has instead been placed back onto me because regular siblings lack the clergy clearance.”

Secondo snorts, picking up his whiskey glass, “You make it sound like we’re completely dependent on them.” 

He chooses to ignore those words, instead focusing over on Copia. If anyone would side with him, it was his twin. Despite everything that had happened between them there was no denying that their bond was different from the others, and Copia had always been more understanding. “I need to pick a date to summon the ghouls that I am entitled to as Papa.” Gemini says as confidently as he can. He meets Copia's eyes insistently, desperate to convey that he needs his support. 

“So we allegedly have a ghoul problem,” Terzo starts, glancing around at the others for a moment before focusing on Gemini again, “And you propose that we just summon you a bunch more?” 

“I don’t want to think about work right now,” Copia mutters, shaking his head as he focuses on his plate again. Gemini deflates. “Just pick a day that you like and inform the Cardinals.”

“No,” Primo says, shaking his head, “You’re not summoning more ghouls. The last thing we need is more of them running around right now.” 

The disappointment rapidly turns to frustration as he turns his eyes on the eldest brother. “I don’t think that’s up to you anymore,” Gemini says through gritted teeth.

“How fucking dare you?” Secondo snaps, slamming his glass down onto the table. “Are you so quick to acquit accomplices to murder?”

“I never said that and you know it. I only bring this up to you all as a courtesy,” Gemini focuses on Primo. “I'm very sorry that my mother did that. It wasn’t right. There were a lot of things she didn’t do right.” 

Terzo snorts, finishing off the rest of the wine in his glass. 

“She was never as cruel to you as she was to us,” Secondo hisses, trying to defend Primo’s actions.

“But she never once denied you a place to grieve your mothers,” Gem spits with venom. 

“Grieve our…?” Secondo stands quickly, rocking the table so his next shout is joined by the clatter of plate and silverware. “I should fucking hope not, considering she killed them! Are you forgetting that?” He narrows his eyes at Gemini incredulously. 

Primo puts his hand on Secondo’s arm, but it isn’t clear if it’s in support, or holding him back. Copia just rubs his forehead. Terzo reaches to pour himself more wine. 

“What a stupid thing to say,” Secondo huffs, shaking his head in disbelief and stalking away from the table. 

Primo stands and drops his napkin on his plate, following Secondo out.

“This isn’t over!” Gemini calls after them.

Secondo is already gone but Primo stalls in the doorway. “No,” he turns back to the table, “It’s not.” The door slams and the room is swallowed by silence.   

Gemini takes a deep breath and looks between the remaining brothers. His brothers, though the distance between them feels more obvious than ever. “I understand these are difficult times. But I refuse to grovel for what was given out in the past as a basic right.” 

“You might uhh… wanna hold off for a little bit,” Terzo slurs. 

Gemini pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. 

Ernest lets out a nervous huff, raking his fingers through his hair as he tries to style it. It seemed like all of these years of just stuffing it under a mask had created new cowlicks that wouldn’t work with him no matter how much fussing he tried. 

He shakes his head, silently giving up as he checks his watch, and turns to grab the sweater he had left out on the bed. 

Tonight was the first ministry dinner he would be attending prior to mass. He hadn’t attended one since becoming a vessel, ghouls weren’t allowed to join the gathering of siblings, instead having their meals in their dens. 

The halls leading to the refectory are empty, something that makes the nervous energy grow stronger each step of the way. The soft chatter of the siblings and clergy members float from around the corner. Ernest pauses just before the doorway, chewing the inside of his lip as he tries to stand up a bit straighter. 

Ernest takes in a deep breath as he enters, eyes quickly scanning over the room, silently hunting for any familiar face as he moves further into the room. Slowly the chatter starts to fizzle out more and more with each step, siblings openly staring at him with wide eyes and nudging those around them still talking. 

A man towards the back with a red cassock and beretta suddenly stands and clumsily starts moving through the tables towards Ernest. He seems familiar, but it isn’t until he is right in front of Ernest that he realizes who it is. 

He forces himself to smile. “Hello Cardinal,” he says quietly, but the words still sound too loud in the now silent refectory hall.   

“Hi there, Ph- Ernest. Sorry. Ernest. Are you looking for anyone in particular?” Cardinal Tobias asks, hands moving to fidget in front of himself. 

“My nephew,” Ernest replies honestly, “I thought we could… talk.”

So far it seemed that Primo was actively avoiding him, something that was faintly confirmed by the guilty expression that spread over the cardinal’s face. 

“He isn’t coming down tonight. None of the Papas are. They’ve asked for the family to have some privacy,” he says, a sympathetic expression replacing the guilty one. “I’m sorry. I thought they would have already told you.”

Ernest forces himself to smile, shaking his head as he takes a step back. “They must have… I probably just forgot. Sorry for disrupting your evening,” he says, forcing himself not to break into a full run as he nods to the cardinal and moves back towards the door. He blindly makes his way away from the refectory, the embarrassment still stinging in his chest. 

He blinks back into reality at the sound of people chatting. He recognizes this area. His feet had carried him to the main ghoul den. 

He continues towards the sounds of merry chatter and silverware until he finds most of the ghouls gathered around a large table.

“Hey, there you are,” Mist says warmly, quickly standing from her spot on one side of the table and moving towards him. “Saved you a spot next to me.” 

The other ghouls go silent as they notice him, but this time it feels different. They’re smiling, not gawking.  

The small water ghoulette takes hold of his arm, guiding him towards the table as the others all say their hellos. 

“We were wondering when you’d finally make your way out for dinner,” Quintessence says cheerily from across the table as Ernest lowers himself into the chair Mist pulls out for him. 

The conversations all start back up as bowls and plates of food are passed around.

Ernest feels like he can breathe again and he smiles back. “Yeah I… got my appetite back I guess.” 

Chapter Text

Olivia carefully cracks open the bedroom door. A nightlight in the hall spills into the bedroom, outlining her husband and son on the bed. She smiles weakly, grateful that they finally made it to sleep.

She steps into the hall and gently closes the door. The beeping of Mary’s heart monitor is on its quietest setting, pinging a steady rhythm as Olivia nears the living room.

Mary is in her medical bed, lit softly by a single lamp nearby. Mountain sits by her side with his head in his hand like he might have fallen asleep sitting up. The other ghouls are laying all about the room. Multiple on the couch, some in makeshift nests on the floor that Olivia is careful to step over.   

For a moment she just watches Mary breathe.

Glowing green eyes blink open beside her. “Miss Olivia,” Mountain whispers.

“You should get some rest, Mountain,” Olivia murmurs as she sits on the bed beside Mary, feeling her forehead. It is still unnaturally cold. She doesn’t know what she was expecting.

“Do you want the seat?” the ghoul asks, making as if to stand but she waves him off.

“I’m alright here. Actually, can you pass me the book that's behind you? On top of the bookcase.”

“Of course, Miss.” Mountain takes a moment to find it, then leans over Mary to hand her the children’s book.

Olivia tucks the blankets around the girl a bit better, before fully settling into her spot and opening the book. “This was one of my favorites as a kid,” she says, smiling down at the illustration of a rabbit at the beginning of the chapter. Tears well in her eyes as she runs her fingers over it in the lamplight. 

Mountain hums thoughtfully. “I’ve never read it before.”

“My mother read it to me when I was little,” she looks over at him as she wipes at her eyes, “It’s a sad one. I remember us crying and dad was so upset that we asked him to finish reading it to us.” 

“Why would you keep reading it if it’s sad?” he asks, leaning his head back against the headboard. 

Olivia gives him a half-hearted smile, resting the book in her lap as she looks over at him. “Because things have to get worse before they can get better most of the time. Sad times come and go.” 

“Were you going to read out loud?” he asks after a moment. 

“I was… Figured this is a bit like a coma. They say it's good to read to people in comas.” She looks down at Mary with an aching fondness. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if we started over for you.” 

Mountain follows her gaze down to the small girl between them before nodding. “We’ll just have to read it again once she gets back.” 

Olivia can’t help the small laugh that escapes her, “I think she’ll relate a bit more with this book than I ever did, after all of this.” She gently smooths her hand over Mary’s hair before taking a deep breath and opening the book. “ Once, in a house on Egypt street, there lived a rabbit …” she began.

Aether is the first one to stir at the soft sound of Olivia reading out loud. 

Olivia pauses at the end of the chapter and motions for him to join them. She scoots forward, letting the quintessence ghoul squeeze in behind her on the bed to read along. He rests his chin on her head as she settles back against him.

“ How does a china rabbit die? Can a china rabbit drown? Is my hat still on my head? ” Olivia reads, voice lowered into a deeper voice to portray the rabbit in the book. 

The tears threaten to betray her again, choking her. Her fingers tighten on the book and she takes in a rough breath. “Sorry, just give me a minute,” she mumbles, keeping her eyes on the page as Aether wraps his arms around her waist and gives her a light squeeze. 

“I can take over for a bit, Miss,” Aether whispers, making the blonde nod and offer him the book. 

“ These were the questions that Edward asked himself as he went sailing out over the blue sea. ” Aether continues, holding the book in one hand and his other arm reassuringly around Olivia’s waist.

Copia shuffles into the living room with a cranky Scottio in his arms and notices all of the ghouls are awake and sitting around the medical bed.

The group look over at him and he notices tears shining on the maskless faces, on Olivia’s cheeks. Dread instantly spikes in his heart, fearing that the worst had happened while he was asleep. His eyes dart between all of their faces before settling on the book that Mountain is holding.

Copia breathes a sigh of relief as Scottio begins to get restless in his arms. “I thought you weren’t going to read that anymore,” he says as he approaches. The ghouls part for him and he places Scottio on the bed, who crawls up to his teary mother and snuggles into her arms.

“They’ve never read it,” Olivia sniffles, wiping at her tears and kissing Scottio’s forehead. “We’re almost at the end.” 

“I don’t think I can read anymore,” Mountain manages, voice thick with tears. The other ghouls let out soft noises of protest at his words, making the largest ghoul mutter apologies.

“Someone has to,” Phantom practically sobs. The ghouls all glance around at each other trying to figure out which one of them was the least of a mess and would be able to clearly read the last page. 

Copia lets out another sigh, making everyone turn to look at him again, “Pass it here.” He steps closer, taking the book from Mountain before moving to sit at the end of the bed. “Where were we?” he asks, squinting slightly as he moves the book into a position he could read without getting his glasses. 

“Once there was a rabbit,” Cumulus murmurs, leaning over and carefully pointing to the spot on the page.

“ Once there was a rabbit who loved a little girl and watched her die, ” Copia starts, feeling his heart clench at the sentence. 

This nightmare was making Copia realize just how weak he was. 

He had thought he was stronger than ever when he stood up to Imperator, but it felt like losing Mary had made the cracks in him so much more obvious. 

He needed to be strong for his family. He would be.

He swallows, forcing himself to continue reading. “ The rabbit danced…”

Secondo lets out a huff, tossing his reading glasses down onto his desk and leaning back in his chair. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been cooped up in his office, the sunlight was just starting to creep through the windows again. His ghouls had left after it started getting dark, both saying something about him taking a break and getting some sleep.  

The former Papa stands, joints cracking as he starts walking towards the door, leaving behind the mess of files and reports on the desk. 

The main living and dining area in the apartment are empty when he steps out, making him sigh and start turning off lights. Felix must have left them on when he went to bed . He turns off the kitchen lights before moving towards the bedroom, content to slide into bed next to his husband and sleep for a while before continuing with his investigation. 

Slowly opening the door, he peeks his head in, fully expecting to find his redhead sprawled out across the mattress. His eyes widen at the sight of the still perfectly made bed.

Panic pools in his stomach as he quickly steps in and looks around. Maybe he got an early start? “Lex?” he calls, pulling open the door to the ensuite and stepping inside. “Felix?” he calls again, stepping back from the empty room and quickly starting to search the rest of the apartment for any signs that Felix had been taken against his will. 

Secondo’s hands frantically search his pockets for his cellphone, struggling to pull it free before calling his husband. He rubs the back of his neck as it rings, slowly turning back towards the table he had last seen Felix sitting at as the sound seems to drag on for minutes.

The clicking sound has him sucking in a breath thinking that the call was answered, only for Felix’s voicemail to kick in. 

“Hi, you’ve reached Felix Emeritus,” his husband’s voice sounds so cheerful in the message, but all he can think of is the empty smile he had received after coming home the day before. “Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” The recorded voice laughs as the sound of someone whispering in the background could faintly be heard. “Bye!”  

Secondo stares at the still pushed out chair, pulling the phone away from his ear as he hangs up. His thoughts are a mess, flickering between his memory of Felix sitting at the table watching him come in and the now empty spot. He slowly turns towards the door leading to the main hall, taking in the blank space where Felix’s windbreaker normally lived. The empty hook where his keys stayed. His sneakers were missing from where he usually kicked them off. 

He sits down in the chair and presses Felix’s contact again.

It rings. “Hi, you’ve reached Felix-”

And again. “Leave a message-”

And then it starts going straight to voicemail. “Bye!” 

For a few moments, he wants nothing more than to throw his phone at the wall, fingers tightening around it hard enough he’s sure it creaks. He tosses his phone down onto the table, pressing his fingers into his eyes as he rests his elbows on his knees. 

He doesn’t bother looking up at the sound of someone knocking on the front door, silently determined to ignore them. The person doesn’t seem to give up despite the lack of response, continuing to knock. 

“Go away!” Secondo shouts, pulling his hands away from his eyes as the knocking turns into a pounding. “For fucks sake,” he hisses, quickly standing and rushing towards the door, fully intending to tell this person to fuck off. 

He yanks open the door. It’s Terzo.

His words die in his throat. 

“Vin,” Terzo says quickly, eyes bloodshot and puffy as they dart between Secondo’s face and the apartment behind him, “Is Sophie here? Please, I just need to talk to her.”

Confusion instantly replaces rage. “No she isn’t here. Why would she be here?” 

Terzo holds up a crumpled note, “She said she was going to see Felix but she didn’t come home last night. Please. We never go to bed mad at each other. Please, she’s not answering her phone. I just need to see her.” The worry and panic are clear in his voice as he begs Secondo for answers the man doesn’t have.

“Felix isn’t here either,” Secondo sighs, stepping back and motioning for his brother to come in. “At least your wife left a note.”

Terzo clutches the note to his chest as he steps into the dim apartment. “It’s not like them to just leave and not say anything.” 

Secondo lets out a slow hum, stepping back into the apartment and closing the door, unable to get Felix’s tired expression out of his head.

Chapter Text

“Hello Ma’am,” Phil breathes, eyes locking onto Anita’s face.

“It’s good to see you again,” she replies, leaning down to press a light kiss to his cheek before stepping back and glancing at the door. “Where is he?” She sounds slightly nervous this time, hands folding in front of herself as she focuses on the ghoul again. 

“Who?” he asks, shifting to stand again with Mary still held onto him tightly. 

“My son,” Anita says, like she thought his question was redundant, “You’re here, so he must be too.”

Phil slowly hums in understanding and bows his head, “He won’t be here for a while yet.” 

“Oh…” 

“We won’t be staying long either, I’m afraid,” Phil continues, smoothing a hand over the back of Mary’s head before focusing on his former mistress again, “I just have to finish her transfer papers and we’ll be heading back.” 

Anita slowly nods, then turns her attention back to Mary. “How about we let Phil do his work? We should enjoy the time we have before you have to get back.” 

Mary glances between the ghoul and the woman for a moment, waiting for Phil’s reassuring nod before stepping towards Anita. 

The woman takes Mary’s hand with a smile, but it falters when she looks at Phil again. “We need to speak privately about keeping promises before you leave, Phil.” 

The words make his heart clench. He forces himself to nod, shifting the paperwork in his hand as he watches her walk away.

Demonic paperwork was worse than Phil remembered.

His pen rapidly scratches across the paper, trying his best to keep it clear, concise, and (most importantly) in the tiny box provided. 

‘Section 5341.1 Accidental discorporation. Clearly state the nature of this discorporation.’

Phil stifles a groan, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to process all of the legal terms he hasn’t heard in sixty years. He lets out a long breath, trying to reassure himself. 

Soft laughter echoes around him and he looks up to the other side of the room.  

Anita, Stefania, and Mary are playing with Anita’s paints. They look happy, and for a moment Phil can’t help but pretend that everything is just as it should be. 

That Anita had the chance to see her son marry. That Stefania witnessed her son growing up. 

That he hadn’t kept all of the ministry’s dirty secrets from any of them. 

The fantasy slips away as his eyes lower back to his incident report. Time is ticking. Mary looks happy now, but she doesn’t belong here. He knows it is only a matter of time before her soul becomes too accustomed to being separated from her body. 

He lowers his pen back down to the page. 

Even if he can get the paperwork filed in time, getting it rushed by upper management is a near impossibility. Still, he has to try. 

Mary has to be able to live out the life she was destined for. He wasn’t going to let anyone else in his care pass on before their time. 

He had to fix his family.

Eliza drinks her morning coffee in a mostly silent apartment, staring out the window with an eerie calm.

Primo had returned after his boys-only dinner in such a state, ranting about ghouls and his brothers, pronouncing that he was done. Finished with all of them if that's how they wanted to act.

He needed sleep. A benadryl in his scotch took care of that.

His distant snoring and the ticking clock in the kitchen is the only sound as Eliza takes another sip of her coffee.

Her father hadn’t raised a quitter.

In fact, her father had raised her to win. To take charge, to be on top, whatever it took. Had she continued with her career she would have been next in line for Sister Imperator.

Knowing that bitch, she probably would have found a way around that. Eliza lets out a small huff of annoyed laughter, shaking her head. Now due to the whims of that wicked woman and this ghoul fiasco, everything she loved was falling apart.

Eliza had contented herself for years to step back from her work and be the housewife and mother (now grandmother) her family needed.

But now she considers: maybe it isn’t enough.

Her father hadn’t raised a quitter, and she would do whatever she needed to see her family and church through this time of crisis. The ghoul issue was delicate but simple at its core. They follow orders. That is what they are summoned for.  

Still, when she thinks of her early days in Rome now they suddenly seem darker. There were tensions there she hadn’t noticed at the time. The ghouls lurk like shadows in her memories.

Any one of them could have killed her. But was a weapon really to blame for the life it took?

In hindsight, she should have expected to be on Imperator’s list. She interfered with her plan to marry Primo off. Hells, she had killed the other match in self-defense.

With someone good and capable in charge, the ghouls should be no issue.

Knocking on the door interrupts her thoughts. She moves to answer it, and even before opening hears the tense voices of Sec and Terzo bickering.

She opens the door to the boys looking a mess. Their normally neat paints are faded and smudged. Terzo is half dressed in his pajamas and a crumpled dress shirt with smudges of dirt on the cuffs, hair a mess from running his hands through it. Secondo is still in the same clothes she had seen him in yesterday morning, his dress shirt untucked under the vest he had on, which seems to be misbuttoned.

“Eliza have you seen Fel—“ Secondo starts.

“Oh Eliza I can’t d—“ Terzo sputters over him, and suddenly they are both talking over each other like blubbering idiots and Eliza has yet to finish her first coffee.

She snaps her fingers and shushes them with a finger to her lips. Both of the men instantly go wide-eyed and quiet.

“You two,” she takes a deep breath, “are going to get inside. Have a coffee with me, and explain, CALMLY, what’s happened before you leak all your drama out into the hallway for everyone to hear.” She steps aside, opening the door and watching them sheepishly enter with a no-nonsense glare.

Just what we needed, she thinks as she closes the door, more drama.

They summarize their predicaments as well as they can, but the calm doesn’t last long before Terzo is crying and Secondo is up and raving around the kitchen.

Primo, awakened by the commotion, shuffles into the kitchen bleary-eyed. “What the fuck are they—“ he grumbles, before another knock comes at the front door.

“Oh for fottere …” Eliza mumbles under her breath, stalking to the door and ripping it open.

Copia jumps in surprise and Eliza instantly feels guilty. “Oh good morning, C, I’m so happy to see you mio figlio.” She pulls him into a hug and he chuckles nervously into her hair.

“What’s going on?”

She rolls her eyes as she pulls back. “The other boys are here.”

The statement is punctuated by the skidding of a chair as Terzo now begins shouting something unintelligible.

Eliza has decidedly had enough.

She bursts back into the kitchen with the scowl of the century, immediately gaining the attention of every man in the room. Everything is quiet again but for the ticking of the clock.

Then Eliza goes into crisis resolution mode.

“Secondo, for fucks sake, go to THERAPY with your husband, Terzo when was the last time you had sex? Wait! Don't even answer that just — find your wife, send her a picture of you handcuffed to the bed if you have to.”

The men blink at her like scolded schoolchildren.

“Dante,” she turns to her husband, still so bleary-eyed and white-whiskered from not having shaved. She pats his cheeks lovingly before sternly commanding, “go back to bed.”

She can tell by the furrow in his brow that he is about to object so she cuts him off. “Dante Emeritus I swear to Satanus if you don’t listen to me there are worse things than death. You need sleep you cluccio.”

The man shuts his mouth, turns, and shuffles back to the bedroom.

She locks eyes with Copia next, who shifts nervously. But she only gives him a smile and says warmly, “You mio caro ragazzo are staying and having coffee with me, it feels like ages since we’ve spoken.”

Copia breathes a sigh of relief as Eliza turns her attention to the other men.

“You two, get out. Go home. I’ll call Sophie and Felix.”

Terzo nods.

Secondo lets out an emotional sigh. “Thank you. Thank you, Eliza.”

“Alright, alright,” Eliza soothes, walking to Secondo to embrace him.

She hugs Terzo for good measure and sends them on their way, and then all is peaceful in their apartment again.

She pours herself a fresh coffee, and Copia one to match before they sit at the kitchen table. Copia looks worn down, his suit wrinkled. She hopes he’s gone home recently. “How are you?” she asks gently.

“Tired,” he answers honestly, toying with the grucifix hanging around his neck and looking down blankly at the table. “I panic every time the phone rings. I’m being pulled in every direction and I can’t go the way I want to.”

Eliza places her hand over his gloved hand on the table. “You were never trained to be head of the clergy. That was never your destiny. You were meant to be Papa, not Frater.”

Tears well in his eyes as he takes her hand. “Non voglio più farlo, mamma,” Copia whispers.

Eliza stands and comes around the table, hugging him to her stomach like a child. “I know, mio caro,” she whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “I think I know how to solve this.”

Eliza stalks through the halls with a purpose.

If their plan was going to work, it would take research and immaculately done paperwork. No one could be given any reason to doubt the legitimacy of the transfer of power, not when everything else was falling to shit.

The familiar smells of old books and floor polish greet her when she steps through the wide library doors. She makes her way to the historical archives, combing the spines to carefully scan the titles.

She has two large volumes under her arm and is searching for a third when she hears a group of newer siblings chatting at one of the tables nearby. 

“Were you at dinner last night? An unmasked ghoul tried to eat in the main dining room,” the brother of blasphemy whispers, “It was wild. Cardinal Tobias had to tell the thing off.”

That makes her slip into the closest row and pause to listen.

”What?” The sister leans in closer, not attempting a whisper and getting mild shushes from the other tables, “What do you mean the ghoul got told off?” she whispers. 

“No clue what he said to him, but the ghoul looked close to tears after the Cardinal was done,” he shrugs, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair.

Eliza’s fingers skim over the spines of books, trying her best not to instantly jump to conclusions from a bit of gossip. 

“I think Sister Veronica said something about an unmasked ghoul running down the hall last night towards the dens,” the sister says, “I guess it was the same one.”

“No clue what it wanted but from what I could hear I guess it asked for Papa.”

They were talking about Phil’s vessel. Ernest. 

Anger bubbles up as she lets out a long slow breath. Eliza was going to lose her mind. Or murder her husband. Maybe both. 

First Terzo fighting with Sophie then Secondo ignoring Felix. Copia drowning in work for a job he didn’t want, nor was he in line for. Now her husband was too busy to make time for the one connection he had left with his mother. 

She lets out a sharp sigh of determination. 

Paperwork still needed doing of course, but if she was going to lead, she would lead with love first. Making sure that Ernest was taken care of had just rocketed to the top of her to-do list. 

She shifts the books under her arm to take out her phone, her heels clicking sharp and fast as she heads out of the library. 

The phone rings twice before Quintessence answers. “Miss Eliza?”

“Yes hello Quint, I need to find Ernest…” 

Siblings quickly move out of her way as she walks through the halls, all shocked to see this side of Eliza too used to her smiling and strolling through. She was on a mission.

Ernest stares down at his hands, slowly processing the gray fading from his fingers. 

It won’t be long now. Phil’s magic was fading quicker with every day he was gone. 

He lets out a sigh as he flexes his fingers, still just as stiff as they had been that morning when he woke up. All of his joints felt stiffer. One of his ankles was starting to get puffy, slightly changing colors like a light bruise.

The sound of the others chatting across the room brings his attention away from himself. His eyes scan over every detail they can, attempting to commit his newfound family to his memory. 

“I’ve seen that look before,” Cowbell whispers, coming up behind him and draping a blanket over his shoulders. 

A smile spreads across his lips, hands moving up to grab the blanket, “Oh?” 

Bell hums, resting his forearms on the back of the chair as he leans forward to stay close to Ernest. “Phil had the same expression the night before he was banished.” 

Ernest slowly turns back to watch the others again with Bell. “I just don’t want to forget anything,” he admits quietly. 

The earth ghoul says nothing, just continues to stand there for a few moments before moving to sit on the arm of the chair. Ernest feels himself instinctively lean his head against Bell and goes with it, not acknowledging the small flinch the ghoul made. 

“I’m going to get really sick soon,” Ernest whispers, not bothering to look over at Cowbell again. “It’s not going to be pretty. I’m sorry that you all will have to see me like that.” He feels an arm coming around his shoulders, pulling him closer to Bell’s side. “I’m sorry if I don’t last until Phil returns.” 

Bell makes an unsure noise, clearly struggling to figure out what to say in this situation. 

“You don’t have to say anything.” Ernest’s hand slides to rest on Bell’s. “I know you love him. He loves you too.”

Bell nods, his other hand covering Ernest’s and giving it a light squeeze, content to sit in silence as the others chat.

Ernest smiles, looking around at the others who had brought their conversation into the sitting area. They were currently talking about music and the instruments they had learned to play while topside. 

“Organ was such a pain,” he chimes in after Air finished talking about learning keyboard. The others look over at him with wide eyes, clearly not expecting that to be an instrument he could play. “It became more fun once I got good at it.”

“You have to play for us,” Fire says excitedly, leaning forward. “The nave should be empty today. There’ll be time.” 

“I don’t think so,” Ernest laughs, pulling the blanket around his shoulders a bit tighter. “Everyone in the ministry would be able to hear it.”

“Come on Ernest,” Cowbell teases, “Show us what you got.” 

Ernest laughs, shaking his head as the other ghouls join in on begging. He flexes his finger again, staring down at his hands as he thinks. It might be the last time he’d ever play. He slowly turns over his hands looking at his fingertips. Phil had always been more into guitar, the calluses were a clear sign of that. “Fine. No promises on how good this performance is.”

The ghouls all cheer as he relents and stands. Ernest is struggling to remember any song that he would be able to play, only faintly aware of Quint’s phone ringing.

Cowbell helps him up the stairs to the organ console and chooses to stay beside him, standing at the edge of the balcony. 

Ernest lets his fingers drift over the keys, hitting a random note. The organ blares throughout the nave and the others cheer obnoxiously as if he’s just played a masterpiece. Ernest laughs and calls down to them, “I’m rusty, so give me a break if this is shit.”

“Go, Ernest!” Fire whoops.  

Ernest glances over at Bell who nods at him encouragingly. He looks back to the organ and readies his hands, closing his eyes to release a shaky breath.

He imagines the sounds of each note to the main Phantom of The Opera theme. He gets to the end of what he can remember before opening his eyes and beginning to play off the sheet music in front of him. 

He moves stiffly at first, a little slower than he intends to move. He hits a wrong note with too-clumsy fingers before he settles into the rhythm. It sounds like it should, the organ menacing and deep and rich as it resonates through him.

He loses himself to the song and the music pouring out of him. He is real and alive and this isn’t the distant existence of being shoved away in the dark recesses of his own mind.  

He makes it to the end of the song, drawing out the final note before the nave is swallowed in silence and he remembers to breathe. He blinks hard and looks at his hands as the clapping begins below.   

“That’s all I got,” he says, sliding to the edge of the bench before accepting Bell’s assistance standing. 

“Rusty?” Bell teases as they make their way down the steps, “If that’s rusty I can only imagine how great you are when you’ve been practicing.”

A laugh escapes Ernest as he holds onto Bell’s arm tightly, struggling down the last few steps. 

“Ernest,” Quintessence calls over to them. “There's someone who would like to meet you.”

Ernest pulls his eyes away from Bell’s helm to look over at the ghoul, eyes instantly widening as he spots Eliza. “Ma’am,” he greets instinctively, bowing his head slightly. 

“Please don’t,” Eliza says quickly, heels clicking quickly as she makes her way over, hands outstretched towards him. “It’s fantastic to finally meet you, zio. ”

Chapter Text

Sophie lets out a deep breath, staring at the door to their apartment. She shifts the duffel on her shoulder and glances down the hall where Felix seems to be bracing himself too. 

The redhead offers her a small smile and a nod before shoving his key into the lock and opening the door. 

When he disappears from view, Sophie turns back to her door. She unlocks it slowly as her heart hammers in her chest.

The moment she has the door open, the soft sound of classical music wraps around her. She stands in the doorway momentarily dazed at the unexpected sound. An argument. A distraught husband. Silence, maybe. All would have made more sense. 

She closes the door and toes off her shoes before continuing into the apartment.

The apartment is clean, the boxes of letters moved out of the dining area and the random dishes that had been piling up in the sink gone. The only thing out of place is a trail of conspicuous rose petals leading toward the bedroom. Sophie huffs a disbelieving chuckle and follows the trail, only to see a note taped to the door. 

Here's a present for you. Hells, I even tied a bow around it. ~ Omega

Her eyes narrow at the note, wondering what the boys were up to. She moves to open the door, calling out, “Honey, I’m home,” as she does. 

Her eyes instantly fall on the man with his hands bound to the headboard and a comically large bow tied around his hips. 

“Welcome home, my love,” Terzo answers, lifting his head to look towards her. She can’t help the smile that forms as she takes in the matching blindfold over his eyes. 

“Rose petals, music, and now bondage and blindfolds,” she teases, moving to stand at the edge of the bed with her arms crossed, watching as her husband squirms, “You sure know how to treat a girl… but I still haven’t heard the magic words yet.”

“I’m sorry for being such a stronzo.” 

She hums, eyes narrowing on him for a moment, before moving towards the closet. He sounded sincere enough to her, but she still wasn’t quite ready to accept the apology. “For what?” she calls as she pulls off her sweater and tosses it into the hamper. 

“Acting like a drunken fool and picking a fight with you.” The headboard creaks as he tries to move on the bed. 

“I’m still upset with you,” she says, surveying the collection of adult toys in the closet. She lets her husband squirm as she picks out a cat o’ nine tails and changes into a silk robe. 

“Please don’t leave me,” he begs as she exits the closet and climbs up onto the bed with him. “Sophie please. Amore mio, luce mia, I can’t lose you. I need you.”

Sophie smiles, reaching down to cup his face, watching as he leans into her hand and presses kisses to her palm. “I’m not leaving you, Gio,” she whispers, leaning down and stealing a light kiss before pulling back enough for him to not be able to reach her again. “I just refuse to let anyone talk to me in that tone without any consequences…”

Felix can’t help but pace back and forth in front of the sofa, avoiding his husband’s gaze as he tries to figure out where to start. 

“Tesoro,” Secondo says softly, making Felix stop to look over at him, “Sit? Please.” 

The redhead nods, swallowing as he takes a seat in the armchair across from him, leg bouncing. “You know I love you, right?” Felix asks suddenly. 

“Of course,” Secondo breathes, “I love you too.” 

“And I’m not saying all of this to hurt you or push you away,” Felix’s eyes dart down to focus on the coffee table, taking in the sight of Secondo’s smashed cell phone. “Really. This has just been weighing on me a lot these last few weeks and I can’t take it anymore.”

His husband slowly nods, rubbing his palms on his trousers before refolding them in his lap. 

The more words leave him the more it feels like his voice is going to crack and he forces out the next ones. “I don’t feel safe living here anymore.” 

It feels explosive. Destructive. And the look of betrayal on Secondo’s face only reaffirms it– but Felix can’t stop. “I don’t feel safe knowing the man who drugged, kidnapped, and assaulted me is free to walk through the halls and has been welcomed with open arms into our family without any consequences.”

Secondo sits silently taking it. Felix hates the sadness on his face and how it makes him want to stop and erase everything he’s said, but that only fuels his anger. Why should he have to hold his tongue like this for so long? Why should he even have to spell any of this out?  

“I came back after going missing for days and everyone is having dinner like nothing fucking happened!” Felix feels tears building in his eyes as his voice finally breaks. “You called my sibling up to replace me in the family photo, while I was wandering down a backroad trying to escape from a man I thought was going to kill me.” 

“Lex…” Secondo starts, shifting to get up to comfort him, but is stopped by Felix shaking his head. 

“I waited for you. Every night I sat here and waited for you to be ready to talk about things. But other things always seemed to come before me,” Felix hastily wipes at his tears when they start to leak out. “Did you even notice that I started leaving during the day with more and more of my things?”

Secondo’s brows furrow. “What?” He scans over the apartment, suddenly noticing the large empty spaces on the bookshelves and the missing frames on the walls.

“I got an apartment in town,” he admits, “I needed somewhere to go if I felt unsafe again.” 

“Is that where you were last night?” Secondo whispers. 

Felix nods, “Sophie needed somewhere to go away from Terzo and I took her there with me.”

A shaky breath escapes Secondo as he runs a hand over his face. 

“I actually slept last night. Soundly,” Felix says, looking back down at the coffee table as he rests his forearms against his knees. “I didn’t wake up screaming. I wasn’t constantly checking that the door was locked. Wasn’t flinching at the sounds of doors closing in the apartment all night.”

“Are you leaving me?” Secondo asks weakly, fingers curling into the knees of his trousers. 

Felix releases a measured breath. “I’m telling you that I don’t feel comfortable living here anymore. Not with Gemini still living here at least. I hate to ask you to leave your family but I would love it if you at least considered moving into the apartment with me.” 

“But… this is our home.”

“This just doesn’t feel like my home anymore. Vin, I’m scared to walk down the halls alone.” Felix looks up at Secondo again and this time the guilt is cutting, winning the war against righteous fury in his mind. Despite everything this is his love. The man he swore to be with until death and beyond. “Come with me,” he pleads. 

“I don’t understand,” Secondo whispers, blinking in confusion before slowly looking up at him again. “How are you even paying for an apartment?” 

“I still had some money saved from when I cashed out my teaching retirement early in Miami, you knew about that. I had always been clear with you that it was there.” Felix shifts in his seat, leg starting to bounce again. “And I applied to teach at the highschool in town. I have an interview next week.”

“You’re going back to teaching public school.” Secondo’s face shifts into a sad smile. “That’s great. I know how much you missed it.” 

“I still plan on helping Mary and Scottio with their school work when they need it. I just won’t be teaching in the ministry school anymore.” Felix nods quickly, “I still plan on coming over for brunch with the other spouses every week, but I’m not going to mass or family dinners anymore.”

“Wow…” he whispers, leaning back on the sofa and running a hand over his mouth as he takes it all in. 

“You’re welcome to think on it before deciding,” Felix says, standing and moving to sit down next to him, resting his hand on Secondo’s thigh. “I’d be more than happy to bring you to the apartment to look at it before you decide anything, if that helps.” 

Secondo lays his hand over Felix’s, giving it a squeeze as he looks over at him, “Okay…”

Phil hugs the stack of completed paperwork tight to his chest as he approaches the imposing doors to the top floor of the administrative building.

Upper Management - Appointment Only is inscribed in gold, etched into the obsidian doors. Carvings around the doorway culminate in a gargoyle’s face at the top of the grand entryway.

The face blinks awake.

“State your title,” it croaks.

Phil clears his throat. “Guardian Knight of House Thesabond.”

The gargoyle's lips curl at the corners into a smirk. “You’re in trouble, Guardian.”

“Ha,” Phil chuckles nervously. “Well aware, thank you.”

The gargoyle closes its eyes and the doors mercifully creak open. Phil rushes inside, down the wide spotless hallway to the main office at the end of the hall.

He faces the engraving he’d hoped to never see in his existence. ASMODEUS SATANUS LUCIFER.

He moves to straighten the medals on his jacket to steady himself, but the door swings open before he is ready.

“Enter,” a rumbling voice calls from within.

He’s quick to slip inside of the office and close the doors behind him. “Hello, your excellency,” he mutters, bowing to the large figure behind the desk.

“Hello, Guardian.” His words reverberate off of everything in the room despite speaking in a normal tone of voice. Phil can’t imagine what it would sound like to hear Him raise His tone. But He is perfectly pleasant, motioning for the ghoul to sit. “A bit early for your return, is it not? Or… late, depending on how you view your original contract,” He added with a sly smile.

“These were extenuating circumstances,” Phil says, sitting on the edge of a chair as he offers the paperwork out to Him. “It’s all outlined in the transfer papers.”

Lucifer takes hold of the stack, scanning over the top page for a second before dropping it to the desktop. “Yes, the Emeritus child. Quite the stir that one has caused.” His smirk drops in favor of a displeased scowl.

“Yes, sir,” Phil says, doing his best to push his anxiety down, “It’s vital that her soul is returned as soon as possible.”

Lucifer hums, half-heartedly flipping through the stack, “It is rather sad.” He lets out a sigh, shaking His head before looking up at Phil. “I am going to be blunt with you,” He says, folding His hands on His desk and leaning forwards toward Phil. “I am disinclined to permit this transfer.”

Dread fills Phil’s chest, making him lace his fingers and squeeze his hands together tightly. He opens his mouth to comment but is cut off by the look he is given.

“The Emeritus clan is making a mockery of my ministry. Children being allowed to use magic without supervision. Prime movers being murdered for selfish gains. Strife among the clergy, and faith is reaching record lows.” He shakes His head. “I think it is time they learn that actions have consequences, do you not?”

“No!” Phil gasps and bows his head quickly. “I mean, your excellency, I understand your point,” he says, still looking at the floor. “But I respectfully disagree. I… not like this,” he adds, tears beginning to sting his eyes.

How could she be the consequence? A consequence?!

“Sit up, Guardian.” Lucifer makes a rolling gesture with his hand. “Go on, speak your piece then,” He says with an air of irritation.

“Please, allow me to return the child. I will ensure the success of the ministry myself, I swear it to you.”

Lucifer bellows a laugh. “A ghoul, yes.” He shakes his head in amusement. “You have done a great deal of good up there, Guardian, but you share the same weakness as every other ghoul. You can only ever follow orders. Not to mention your vessel is nearly 95 years old now. The original contract holder has passed. It is time to retire him.”

“But I have to return the girl, please. I have to…” Phil stalls, the weight of everything finally setting in.

Not only would he not be able to return Mary, but he would be unable to return to Ernest. To the ghouls, his family… to Cowbell. In the back of his mind he knew it was a possibility, but had pushed it down to do what he needed to.

He releases a shaky breath and blinks his blurry eyes hard. He has no reason to grant me this, he thinks, dread swallowing him whole. There is nothing left to argue.

I have failed.

Lucifer hums in consideration, his smirk back in place. “I like you, Guardian Knight of House Thesabond. I have been intrigued by your activities on the mortal plane and find myself even more intrigued by you now.” He nods to Himself as if deciding something, pulling a pair of seal stamps from His desk drawer and setting them down next to the stack of transfer papers.

A nervous excitement bubbles in Phil’s chest and he sits up straighter.

“After a life of following orders, I would like to offer you a choice. Either Mary Sinclaire-Emeritus’s soul is returned to the mortal plane, or you are returned to your vessel.”

Phil’s jaw drops, confusion twisting his thoughts. “Or? But… but how will she be returned?” Phil asks desperately. “If she doesn’t trust her escort, her soul could shred.”

“That is not your problem anymore,” Lucifer says, pulling a wax stick out for the seals. “Oh, and I should add, if you stay here, you will be treated as a banished ghoul. Stripped of your rank and full re-training.” He snaps His fingers to summon a flame to heat the wax, the light flickering on a wicked smile. “So what will it be, Guardian?”

Chapter Text

Primo isn’t used to his wife being upset with him. 

In their over 35 years of marriage, he could count on one hand how many times they had truly fought, or had Eliza openly tell him she was upset with him. He had honestly forgotten how stern his wife could be; unused to the scolding being pointed at him rather than the boys. 

He lets out a sigh, shifting awkwardly as he waits for Ernest to exit the ghoul apartments. Eliza was right, he should have been there for Ernest after Phil’s banishment rather than just sending him off to recover alone. 

Primo looks up from the spot on the floor he had been staring at as the door leading into the ghoul apartments is pulled open. 

“No,” Ernest says, leaning heavily against a cane as he struggles with the door. “I’m not getting in a fucking wheelchair just to have you guys lug it up stairs. It makes no sense.”

He steps forward as Cowbell comes into sight behind the man, “Just be careful. Please.” The earth ghoul sounds worried, hands hovering slightly as if he was preparing to catch the smaller man.

“I’ll take good care of him,” Primo says, stepping forward and extending his arm out to Ernest to support him. Ernest looks relieved, saying a quick goodbye to Cowbell before taking hold of Primo’s arm. 

The pair manage not to say anything to each other on their journey up the stairs out of the crypt, pausing at the top for Ernest to catch his breath. 

“So,” Ernest starts, clinging onto Primo as they start to walk again, “How have you been?” 

A bitter laugh escapes him, looking down the hall as he tries to compose himself, “Been better. What about you?”

Ernest hums, shrugging as he shifts his grip on his cane to take another step. “Tired. Casually dying.” 

He falls silent, shame washing over him as his uncle lets out a sigh. 

“I used to hate them too, you know,” Ernest says suddenly.

Primo is so blindsided that it takes him a moment to connect to who he could possibly be talking about. He says nothing, letting the man continue in his reflection.

“The anger fades. I’ve had nothing but time to process their actions.”

Primo stops in disbelief and turns to face the former ghoul. How could he even have an ounce of sympathy for them in his condition? He grits his teeth, not wanting to shout at him, but his words come out in a fierce breath. “The ghouls are the reason I grew up without a mother.”

Ernest’s face shifts into an angry scowl, brows furrowing. “Your mother was my beloved sister, nipote . Do not forget that,” he growls. “And I gave up everything to protect her. If anyone has reason to despise the ghouls it is me.”

Primo looks down, the shame returning with a vengeance, sitting painfully in his gut. He says nothing. 

“I willingly gave up my body to host a ghoul to keep her safe. I was told once the ghoul took control I would get peace.” A bitter laugh escapes him. “No, something went wrong. I was stuck in there for all of these years, just a voice in the back of Phil’s head. Watching. The first years were hard, but… watching you grow made it feel worth it.” 

“ Zio- ” Primo tries to cut in, only to be silenced with a sharp look. 

“What Phil had to go through after Anita’s passing was cruel. Having to stand strong at your side while I spit nothing but hatred at him…” he sighs and shakes his head. “The guilt was crushing, I could feel it weighing on him. He cried every night for years, hiding himself in the halls at night to keep watch over you, Stefania, and your brothers. He stopped countless attempts on Eliza’s life after you two were engaged, each time he was leading your ghouls to keep her safe from harm.”

“I didn’t know that,” Primo whispers. 

Ernest hums, “You never asked. Just asked Phil to make sure she stayed safe, you never told him to inform you of every attempt. He just took care of it.” 

Eliza stands from the table and clinks her glass for everyone’s attention. Her eyes cast around the table as she waits for everyone to settle.  

Secondo and Felix’s seats are empty in their absence. Terzo is squirming in his seat, something that Sophie is quietly teasing him for. Olivia holds Copia’s hand tightly on the table. It looks like she hasn’t slept at all the last few days and Copia doesn’t seem to be fairing much better. Gemini sits at the other end of the table, fidgeting with his glass as his eyes dart between his twin and Eliza. Ernest smiles at her encouragingly from his place next to Primo, who was staring up at her in confusion. 

“I know things haven’t been easy lately,” she starts, eyes falling back down to the table for a moment as she prepares to say the words she’d played so many times in her head. “I’ve been speaking with Copia, and I decided it was time I step in.”

Olivia looks over at Copia with a confused frown, making her husband lay another hand over hers as he smiles at her. 

“I will be taking over the Imperator role, while C retires.” Eliza grips her folded hands tightly as everyone lets out noises of confusion.

Primo’s eyes widen, “But you haven’t been involved in the day to day running of the ministry since the 90s.”

Her eyes fall to her husband as she raises an eyebrow, “Darling, do you really think I was happy just sitting by your entire reign?” She turns to fully face her husband. “There’s a reason why you only had one red box on your desk every morning rather than four. I filtered out all of the pointless paperwork and took care of it alongside Quintessence and Phil.” 

“You did what?” he asks in shock, glancing around at his brothers. 

“You lucky bastard,” Terzo teases, picking up his glass to take a sip. 

“There is a reason you never had to approve leave requests for Cardinals. I handled it.” She shifts back to the others, “What I’m trying to say is that Copia was never properly trained to handle the role of Frater. It’s traditionally a woman’s role. He’s never had to organize and approve all of the sister’s events and schedules, deal with every fight between them, and plan out clergy meetings on a global scale.” 

“You're retiring?” Olivia whispers to her husband.

Copia shifts in his seat, bringing Olivia’s hand up to kiss, “It’s what I think is best for us. For the kids.” The blonde’s lip begins to tremble, making Copia pull her into a tight hug.

Eliza smiles sadly at the couple as she continues, “I will also be handling the ghoul situation.” She looks over at Gemini, “We will need to meet next week to schedule your summoning and go over the new summoning contracts.” 

“More ghouls?” Primo sighs, “We still have issues with the ones we’ve got.” 

“No. You have issues with the way Sister Imperator handled the ghouls. They are bound by the clergy’s vow of confidentiality.” 

“New summoning contracts?” Sophie asks, “How is changing their contracts going to help?”

“Because, if the contract between the ghouls and their masters is explicit in allowing the ghouls to do more than answer when asked… we can successfully bypass the bullshit games of twenty questions.” 

Eliza looks to her husband again, scrutinizing his expression. She had expected more of an explosive reaction from him but he is oddly subdued. He looks down at his plate, and only nods.

Ernest holds onto the front of Cowbell’s shirt as the ghoul slowly lowers him down onto the bed, hissing in pain as his body shifts to try and relax.  

“You overdid it,” Bell says softly, carefully starting to untie the shoes Ernest has on. The smaller man somehow looks even paler in the warm glow of the lamp on the bedside table. 

“I just didn’t want them to worry about me,” he hisses, attempting to unbutton his shirt with clumsy fingers. “They should have at least one memory of me as a normal person. Not just their weird, dying uncle.”

Bell sighs, shaking his head as he sets the shoes down by the end of the bed. “I’m sure they don’t see it like that.” He sits on the edge of the bed, trying to give him the independence of unbuttoning his own shirt. 

“I just wanted to give them one last normal family dinner,” Ernest mutters, frustration clear on his face as he struggles to get the first button completely out of its hole. 

“Let me?” Bell whispers, carefully nudging Ernest’s hands away and taking over. 

His head falls back to rest against the pillows, eyes sliding shut as he struggles to get in a full breath. His loud wheezes start to turn into a cough as Bell reaches the last button. 

“I’m sorry,” he manages, eyes opening to look over at Bell as he helps him fully out of the shirt and into a soft t-shirt. “I don’t think I’m going to last until Phil gets back.” He snags Bell’s hand before the ghoul can fully pull away. 

The words that instinctively start to come out just don’t feel right, dying in Bell’s throat as he locks eyes with the man in front of him. 

“Thank you,” Ernest continues, “Thank you for making me feel so welcome.”

“Of course,” Bell breathes, hand coming to rest on the back of Ernest’s, “You’ll always have a place with us. You're part of our family too.” 

Tears well in Ernest’s eyes, “Will you lay with me for a bit? I just don’t want to be alone.” 

Bell nods, giving his hand a light squeeze before standing again and moving to the other side of the bed. He takes a moment to take off his shoes and put his helm down on the dresser before laying on his side next to Ernest, offering the man one of his hands again. Ernest clings to Cowbell’s hand as he settles back against the pillows, eyes sliding shut as he turns his face towards Bell.

The room is silent other than Ernest’s wheezes and occasionally small cough. Bell is pretty sure that Ernest is completely asleep as he gently pulls the man’s hand closer and presses a small kiss to his knuckles, before untangling his hand. 

He starts to cough again as Bell sits up, making him frown as it steadily gets worse. 

Ernest opens his eyes, arms starting to scrabble against the sheets as he tries to push himself upright. 

Bell carefully slides an arm behind Ernest’s back helping him sit up, supporting him through the coughing fit. The human clings to him, desperately trying to take small gasping breaths between each cough. The sharp scent of blood fills his senses as dark splotches start to rain down on the pale gray sheets. 

Ernest shakes in Bell’s arms, trying to hold in his coughing as he looks up at the ghoul, blood running down his chin and turning the front of his shirt a dark crimson. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Bell says, though it feels anything but. Panic laces his comforting words. He looks towards the bedroom door, unsure what to do. He has the awful thought that– 

Phil would know what to do. The thought almost makes him sob aloud. 

He doesn’t want to lose either of them. He can't not lose them both. 

The coughing forces more bloody spittle out from Ernest’s lips and Cowbell cries, “You're going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.”

Chapter Text

Hell can be unsettlingly quiet.

It doesn’t bother Phil for the most part, but as he’s escorted down the empty hall by two reapers at his side, the silence where footsteps should be is loud.

He won’t have long to say goodbye. But he’s lucky to have the chance at all. It isn’t from any kindness, only that the reapers have to provide instructions for her transfer, and it’s easier to bring him along.

Phil comes to a stop in front of a door. He can feel the souls on the other side and it feels like something he should savor. How long will it be, until he feels the presence of a familiar soul again?

He doesn’t get the chance to savor it or collect himself, the reaper on his left pushing open the door.

The room is bright and Mary’s smile at seeing him makes it even brighter. Her white choir gown seems to glow as she runs towards him.

Phil’s eyes feel wet. 

He’d never cried before he went topside. Maybe being in a body with a soul still attached permanently altered him. He has to hope it didn’t, since in this moment it’s starting to feel like he isn’t strong enough for this.

He feels himself sinking to his knees as Mary runs into his arms.

“Are we going home?” she asks excitedly, arms tight around his neck as she tries to get him to look at her.

“Yes, going home,” he manages, forcing himself to smile. “Soon you’ll be right back home.” 

The squeal of excitement she lets out hardly covers his hiccup of a sob. 

“Grannies!” She turns away from him as he looks up to see Anita staring at him. “We’re going home!” 

Disappointment. Shame. It’s all clear through the small remaining shards of their bond and on her face despite the smile she put on for Mary. 

“That’s wonderful news darling,” Stephania says, hands clapping slightly as the girl pulls away from Phil and rushes towards them. 

Anita’s eyes narrow at him as he stands up.

“Mary,” Phil clears his throat nervously, unable to pull his eyes from Anita’s, “I’m going to have to stay here.”

Mary’s face drops, and through the resulting earthquake in his mind he registers that she looks older like that. 

Maybe all she needed to not be affected by all this was him returning with her. Like this had all been a silly adventure. But he couldn’t give her that.  

She looks older. She isn’t the same girl that was sent here anymore. 

She swallows and looks to her grannies as if to confirm it. The sad smiles on their faces cause her to look down and sigh. She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t cry. 

“I’m sorry. I–” He wants to explain that they won’t let him come. That he tried so hard. That he is no match for the forces ruling the underworld and yet he knows he is opening himself up for ridicule from the reapers if he does. “I would have loved to come back with you Mary but I have business here. Please say hi to Frater and Miss Olivia for me, okay?” 

Mary nods automatically as Stefania takes the girl’s hand. 

“We’ll make sure you get home to mama, princessa,” she soothes with a reassuring smile. 

Mary turns to give Stefania a tight smile, and Phil closes his eyes to burn it in his memory. 

Olivia presses closer to Copia as they sit curled up in the armchair next to Mary’s bedside. Copia had fallen asleep moments after they had settled in, exhausted from having so many late nights in a row.

She glances over at Mountain and Aether who were both trying to be useful around the apartment and still give them space. The pair was currently polishing the random silver set that had been a wedding gift from some Cardinal in Italy. 

Most of the ghouls had left earlier that morning to go be at Cowbell and Ernest’s side, since the former ghoul had taken a turn for the worse the night before. 

Her eyes drift back to Mary, watching each slow rise and fall of her chest nervously. There were so many things about this situation that she didn’t understand, no matter how much magic bullshit anyone tried to explain to her. Olivia shivers slightly as a draft sends a chill running through her, making her curl her arms closer to Copia’s chest. 

Then suddenly– the room seems brighter.

The sun breaks through the gloom that had pervaded the apartment since the day they lost Mary. Olivia turns her face towards the window, a weak smile appearing as she watches the clouds outside part. She sighs, her eyes sliding shut in a rare moment of peace.

“Mommy…” 

The faint whisper has Olivia’s eyes shooting open and turning to look at Mary. 

Her eyes blink open in the sunlight.

Olivia scrambles out of Copia’s arms and to her bedside to pull the girl into her arms. She isn’t sure what to say, tears suddenly coming hard along with a stream of ‘thank you’s spoken into Mary’s blonde curls. She feels the bed shift behind her as Copia stirs awake and wraps his arms around them tightly. 

“Mommy, Daddy,” Mary sniffles, holding onto them tightly. 

The air feels different, the sun a bit brighter through the glass walls around him. 

Primo sighs, adjusting the snips in his hand as he continues to prune the potted plants in the greenhouse, not bothering to look up. 

So much had changed since Mary’s accident.

Since the truth was revealed. 

Primo couldn’t help but blame himself for a lot of it. If he didn’t notice his wife assisting him with his duties then he must have missed even more. Like Phil apparently stopping numerous attempts on his wife’s life. 

He makes another snip, only to curse as he cuts off too much. He tosses the tool down onto the workbench. His hands come to rest on the edge as he lets his head hang. 

A shiver runs down his spine as he looks back up at the now lopsided plant. “Fuck, it’s ugly now,” he mumbles.

“Now, I wouldn’t say that,” a voice he hadn’t heard in decades says behind him. “It just needs a little shaping that’s all.”

Tears well in Primo’s eyes as he struggles to decide if her voice was real or just in his head. “Mama?” he whispers, frozen in place despite how much he wanted to turn around.

Secondo lets out a long sigh, staring at the portrait of his mother that was still hanging on the wall, leaning his shoulder against Felix’s. “Are you sure you’re alright with me setting up a new shrine for her in your apartment? I can always just keep visiting with her here.”

“Vin,” Felix sighs, turning towards his husband and taking his hands. “If you want her with you, then bring her. She’s not going to judge us from beyond for having sex right?”

He can’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he gives his redhead’s hands a squeeze. “Suppose not.”

“Good. Then I don’t mind either way.” Felix leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek before pulling away and heading towards the door. “I’ll let you explain on your own that she’s moving to a new home.”

Secondo watches with a small smile as Felix slips out the chapel’s doors, before turning back to the portrait. 

“Hi mama,” he whispers, stepping closer to the altar. “Felix and I have decided it would be best if we moved out.” 

“Thank fuck. It’s about time you made it out of this shit hole.” 

He turns with wide eyes, fully prepared to tell whatever sibling it must be to fuck off, only to fall completely silent as he takes in the sight of the ghost in front of him.

Every small movement hurts now. 

“You all don’t have to stay,” Ernest manages through shallow breaths, propped up against a mountain of pillows at the head of the bed, eyes slowly scanning over the ghouls all scattered around his room. 

“We know,” Cowbell says, turning to the next page in the book he had been softly reading aloud to the group. 

Ernest does his best to smile at that, slowly laying his head back onto Bell’s shoulder as the ghoul starts up again. 

Things are peaceful for a while longer, letting Ernest drift between sleep and consciousness, the sound of Bell’s voice and the occasional chatter from the others helping soothe away the worry.

Eventually, all of Copia’s ghouls come say goodbye to him before filing out of the room with worried expressions. 

Then Primo’s ghouls leave in a similar fashion. 

Then Secondo’s. 

Sunlight breaches the small windows at the top of the bedroom, and the silence with Cowbell is so peaceful. He tries to take a deep breath but suddenly feels so much weaker. He can feel the rest of Phil’s magic slipping away, a cold tingly sensation starting to spread throughout his body.

Ernest begins to connect the dots in a haze. 

Mary must have returned.

… She had returned without Phil.

“Bell,” Ernest manages, voice cracking from how dry his throat suddenly feels. 

“Yeah?” Bell mumbles, head still tipped back with his eyes closed next to Ernest. 

“I don’t think he’s coming back.” He pulls his head up to look at the earth ghoul as tears fill his eyes. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t give up like that,” Bell chides, opening his eyes and looking down at the human next to him. “There’s still time.” 

“You need to know he loved you so much,” Ernest continues, hand shaking as he grabs onto Bell’s shirt. “You need to know he never once thought about anyone but you in that way.” 

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Bell whispers, wrapping an arm around Ernest’s shoulders. 

“It is. No one but you. Not even once. He loved you so much. We loved you so much.” Tears spill down Ernest’s cheeks as smiles up at Cowbell. “I’m so glad you made him happy all those years. Thank you.”

“Please,” Bell pauses with a shaky swallow, “Just a bit longer. He’ll come back. If he loves me, he’ll come back to me.” 

“He’d try his hardest,” Ernest mumbles, chest starting to feel tight as he closes his eyes and presses his face into Bell’s chest. “He might just be… going the long wa-y…” His words fade along with the last breath draining from his lungs. 

It feels like sleep, but it also feels like warm sunlight coming down to envelop him, and he doesn’t have any more thoughts after that.

Chapter Text

Phil stands on the edge of the Emeritus Estate, watching. He can feel a familiar presence nearing. 

Ernest. He walks up the entrance slowly, as if taking it all in. Phil stays out of sight.

Ernest has scarcely made it to the elaborate front steps when the huge doors spring open and Anita rushes out. She tackles Ernest in a rough embrace and kisses his face over and over. She seems to be laughing and crying simultaneously but Phil keeps his eyes on Ernest’s face as long as he can. 

His wet eyes look happy. 

His eyes belonged to him once, in a way. Phil had seen that face in a mirror so many times it was hard to think of it otherwise. 

He sighs and turns away from the scene. His retraining would already take decades as it was, so he couldn’t delay it any longer.

Ghouls did not get funerals. Mostly because they didn’t die in the traditional sense. If anything the other ghouls threw them a retirement party. Or in the rare case of a banishment, it wasn’t something to celebrate. 

It was decided that they would hold a funeral for Ernest and Ernest only. Phil wasn’t to be mentioned. Primo thought it best then that it would be a small ceremony with immediate family but the others had pushed back. What about the ghouls who’d want to say goodbye? An exception was made to allow ghouls to attend but Primo would be the only one to speak to keep the ceremony on track. 

The pews in the nave are full, every row past the first containing ghouls from different branches across the country and overseas, minus the air ghoul up at the organ. Ghouls had flooded into the ministry that morning, all dressed in their state mourning uniforms, inky shadows appearing from every dark corner.

Zephyr handled the musical arrangements, practically insisting on it by rejecting all of the music Primo kept suggesting. It was something he was willing to look past, too busy arranging everything else, from the flowers to spaces for all of the visiting ghouls. 

He has to fight the urge to turn and scan over all of the ghouls, silently willing them to all remain behaved while he waits to stand and face them again.

The organ’s notes start to slow, growing lighter as the song starts to approach the end. He lets out a slow breath as Eliza squeezes his hand and lets him stand. 

Primo’s steps echo on the marble. The silence is only occasionally broken by a sniffle or child’s whisper. 

“We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of a dear family member and friend. My great uncle, Ernest.” He stalls, his attention drawn to the section for immediate family where Olivia is leaning over to whisper to Mary. His niece seems to be in a bad mood, and he is momentarily glad the ceremony will be kept short. 

He glances back at his notes and continues. “Tragically, I did not get the privilege of knowing Ernest for very long. None of us did, due to his unique circumstance. But I so profoundly appreciated his wisdom, his–”

“No!” Mary talks back to Olivia, pulling away from her in red-faced anger. “Phil was my friend!” 

Olivia gives Primo a mortified glance before her and Copia kneel next to the child trying to shush her. 

“That’s Phil!” her voice cracks as she points at the body in the casket. Tears start welling in her eyes. “Phil saved me! He! He–” 

“Alright,” Copia soothes and picks her up, swiftly making his way out of the nave. 

Mary sobs into his neck as she is carried out. Olivia mouths an apology to Primo and rushes after the pair as they exit. The door closes loudly behind them, echoing through the grand space. 

The silence that follows feels heavy, pressing down on Primo’s shoulders like bricks. His eyes are stuck on the door, but in his peripheral he can see all of the turned black hoods of the ghouls looking as well. 

Heads slowly start returning to look at him as he tightens his grip on his notes. The eyes glowing behind every mask turning back to Primo feel sharper than ever. He clears his throat and looks back down at his notes, taking a moment to collect himself. 

His notes speak of Ernest’s sacrifice. Ernest’s sacrifice to save his sister that was wasted by the ghouls and yet… Phil had saved Mary. Phil had protected his beloved Eliza. Didn’t that mean something?

Primo pinches the bridge of his nose carefully to not disturb his paints. 

“Here lies a man…” he continues, scanning over the congregation now abandoning his notes. “So ready to forgive the wrongs done to him. Patient and kind. Selflessly devoted to those he loved, even when it meant committing life’s greatest sacrifice. May you hear the chimes, for they toll now for the end. The bells call out their doom to call you come. Can you see the cross? The carrier of the light? May the morning star shine upon you. Siamo con il nostrum dio scuro.”

Eliza tosses her heels and pours her and her husband two large glasses of red after the funeral. With heavy sighs they settle on the sofa. Primo wraps his arm around her shoulders as she settles into his side, eyes lingering on the mountain of books on the coffee table.

”Light reading?” he teases.

”Research,” she says, rolling her eyes as she pulls her feet up onto the sofa underneath her. “I had to get a clear picture of procedure and all angles the clergy could use to prevent the transfer of the imperator position.”

He raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip of his wine, scanning over the spines of some of the books he could see. “And you needed books on ghoul summoning and the hierarchy of hell?” 

She gives a small shrug, laying her head back against his shoulder as she closes her eyes. The day was emotional enough without an argument and she doesn’t want to lie to him about the exact nature of her research. 

A few tense moments pass where she expects him to start ranting about ghouls again, but his voice is gentle and contemplative as he asks, “Anything on banished ghouls?”

Eliza shifts her head to look up into her husband’s eyes with a soft smile. ”Not much. There are some old legends that could be helpful but…” she sighs and settles back against his chest to look at the dusty tomes. “They’re Medieval Latin. You were always better at interpreting it than me.”

“I’ll look into it first thing tomorrow, amore mio,” he whispers with a kiss to her forehead.

Terzo scans over the mess of boxes laid out around their coffee table, a few towers stacked two or three boxes high, eyes eventually landing on his wife sat across from him on the floor. 

It was hard for him to believe that the mother he thought had abandoned him had cared enough to send letters and packages that were able to fill almost all of these boxes. 

“Phil organized them well,” Sophie whispers, looking over one of the lists on the front of a box. “Where do you want to start?” She looks over at him with a small smile. 

He hums softly, turning to look at the box sat next to him, it contained the newest of the letters. “The most recent I suppose…” 

After pulling the lid off, he discovers that Phil had carefully organized each letter by month and year in their own file folders completely unopened. 

He carefully pulls the newest folder out and selects the envelope with the newest post mark date. The return address has been stamped over, something that seemed common between all of the envelopes in the folder, but it's the flowing cursive spelling out his name that makes his eyes water. 

He turns it over to open it, a smile forming at the heart drawn on the flap, and slips his finger in to break the seal. 

“Gio, ” he starts to read, pausing to clear his throat as he takes the length of the letter in his hands. “I heard the news about Imperator and Gemini departing for Rome. I’d say to tell the old bastard my condolences but it seems like they’ll finally be able to rot together exactly how they wanted.” 

He can’t help the small laugh that escapes him, glancing up at his wife who was smiling over at him as he shifts the paper in his hands. 

“In happier news, this summer has already been pleasantly warm…”