Sympathy For the Devil

23

"What the fuck, Ellie?" Killian yelled the second my hands were no longer fuzzy and I could breathe normally again.

He was wearing a green shirt that read: I'm a Big Dill with a smiling pickle in sunglasses plastered on the front.

"I don't know," I admitted as I wheezed. "I don't know what the fuck." I held my hands up in the air in a flash of visible frustration.

"Where did you even go?" Killian glared at me. "And don't you dare say home."

"Home." I spoke softly as if it was an admission of guilt. Maybe in this instance, it was.

Killian's face was still etched with concern and frustration, but his tone was slightly softer as he spoke. "Ellie, what were you thinking? You can't just disappear like that. I was worried sick about you." He smoothed his hands through his hair as the silver became visible beneath the black.

"Hey, it isn't my fault. There isn't a manual on this thing," I waved my arms into the air as if conjuring up my abilities. "Teleportation wasn't my plan. I just wanted to go home and I somehow manifested that."

Killian's expression softened further, his eyes filled with a deep concern. "I know it's not your fault. It's just...I don't know what I would do if something happened to you." His voice was low and rough, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of something more in his eyes.

But then, his mask slipped back into place, and he was once again the calm, collected person I knew. "We need to work on controlling your abilities," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "We can't have you teleporting all over the place without warning."

I nodded, feeling a surge of determination. I was tired of being a liability, tired of not being able to control my own powers. I was ready to learn, to train, to become the person I was meant to be.

"Well, it looks like I'm no longer needed here and that you have things covered, son." Ankou spoke from the doorjamb.

"Don't call me son." Killian spoke bitterly. "Don't you have souls to collect or something?"

"Sure do. But a great hunter waits until the Banshee screams. That's not a euphemism, you know." Ankou winked in our direction. He actually winked as he shielded his face with his hood and vanished.

Killian shook his head in anger. "I can't stand him sometimes." He looked at me and let go of my arm. "Okay, all the time. I can't stand him all the time."

I couldn't help but laugh at Killian's admission. "I think he's growing on me," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Anyone you dislike can't be all that bad."

Killian raised an eyebrow. "Tell me you're joking."

"Obviously I'm joking. He's a total prick, but I like that at least someone can get under your skin."

"As opposed to getting in my pants like you, Jellie Belly?"

I blushed. "Screw you, Kill."

"Why would I screw myself when I have you?"

I stammered with my next words. "Can I ask you a straight question?"

"As opposed to a crooked one?" Killian's smirk played on his lips as he laid down on his bed looking real smug and smackable.

"You know what, never mind." I shoved Killian aside as he moved closer into the wall.

"Comfortable?" Killian questioned as I crawled into bed beside him.

"I'd be more comfortable if you weren't here, but beggars can't be choosers." I curled into his arm.

"God, why do we both do this?" Killian murmured in my ear. "We are at each other's throats constantly and then afterwards, we make foolish mistakes. Don't you know that it is a mistake to be with me. People die around me."