Here Comes The Son (Ghost Band / Papa Emeritus fic)

Belial!

Lydia knew they were approaching the site of the oubliette when Copia started to slow down. Saying nothing, she watched as they walked side by side, each step taking them both to the site of his childhood terror.

Ahead she could see what looked like an overgrown storm drain standing about three feet proud of the ground with a latched and chained grating over the top of it. Vines and mosses covered most of the grating and she could see already that it looked very fragile. Somehow she had the same sense of fragility coming off Copia in waves - being a witch as a therapist sometimes gave her an unfair advantage over her clients as she could sense many of their feelings before they admitted them. She felt that he was curious about how safe the oubliette was and before she could ask him anything, he was sprinting forward. It was, in anyone's book, an unexpected response as he had not seemed in the remotest bit keen to approach until now. His next words explained everything as she saw him visibly relax.

"They filled it in," he nodded with great relief.
"You were worried about the grate?" Lydia asked as she drew up alongside him again.
"It looked so rusted and fragile," he sighed, his mind elsewhere.

Sitting on the ground next to what remained of the oubliette, Copia picked a long blade of grass and played with it, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

"What's this like for you?" She asked with careful curiosity.
"Weird," he looked up as she stood in front of him looking down. "I expected to be terrified, but I'm not. If I'm honest, part of me expected you to push me down it again," he shrugged on receiving no response. "After all these years, I knew exactly how to find it. Yeah, nearly fifty years and I knew the way perfectly."
"You never came back?"
"No," Copia shook his head. "I was too scared. Terzo made me promise and I'd never break a promise to him. Well, not until now, anyway."
"Why did he ask you never to come back?" Lydia asked. "Did he think you'd meet those children again?"

Copia pursed his lips as he picked another long blade of grass from the ground, absently tying the two together.

"I don't think he believed there were any other kids. I think he thought I'd tried to kill myself."
"What was it like for you knowing he was so aware of how difficult your childhood was that he thought you'd end it?"

Copia looked up, his expression blank. Looking down again at his shoes, his legs bent in front of him on the grass verge, he shook his head.

"It never occurred to me until you just said it. I just registered that he didn't believe me. Why he didn't believe me, I... I didn't even think about."
"How did you feel about him not believing you?" She asked, concerned it had affected his relationship with Terzo.

Copia managed a small laugh.

"Terzo cared that I was alive and wanted to keep me that way. That's all I thought. I loved him for that and so many other things."
"It sounds like you were quite alike."
"Eventually," Copia nodded. "I wanted to be just like him. Even as a kid, he was my idol, my rock star. A lot of what I do on stage is me thinking What would Terzo do? He'd do it with more panache, of course. When I do stuff he'd do, it's just cringe and awkward. Almost a parody of what he'd do, but it's meant fondly."
"What sort of thing feels awkward to you?" She asked; she felt she knew what he was going to say, but wanted him to say it before she gave an alternate perspective.
"Oh, do I really need to say it? Really?" He looked up, feeling surprisingly relaxed, despite still sitting next to the oubliette.
"Please? I don't want to make any assumptions."
"What? And tell me something I thought was okay is actually cringe and awkward?"
"I didn't mean that," she laughed as he offered his surprisingly soft and self-deprecating smile.
"The sexual references," he shrugged. "He'd do this thing where he'd..." he gestured with a finger. "He'd be intimate with a microphone stand. Very gently, almost subtle. Sexy as fuck, and I don't mind saying that. My version is... crass and obvious, just poking my finger through the empty mic holder. It gets a laugh. I'm not sexy like he was. He had so much confidence, he would sit and talk about anything and he'd be sexy just sitting there. It's one of the reasons the Clergy took against him," his voice hardened for a moment. "They said he made it all about him and not the message, but the thing is, he didn't. They made it out like he was trying to be sexy. Secondo, he tried. He really tried! But Terzo was just Terzo. For him, it was just who he was."
"You don't think you're sexy?"
"Oh, Satan, no!" He laughed, shaking his head.
"I think your fans would disagree."