trans_9 | Sins of the Son

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Sins of the Son

Daimon had not resisted arrest, nor did he threaten Leon. Though he was loath the hand over his trident, he did. He did not hand over his Bible, keeping it hidden in what little plant suit he had covering his body (he had ripped most of the pulsing suit off but, to his dismay, it was regrowing).

He was a danger to others. This was the best for everyone.

He opened his Bible to Psalms and started reading.

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.

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Okay, so this is awkward. Like, really superawkward. But that's okay. He...he knows me. And now he's in jail. The least I can do is go and visit him. And, you know...bring him...this. Whatever this...is. She was holding a plate with a steaming pile of ~~poo~~ food, and there was a nervous smile on her face as she approached Daimon's cell. It had taken some finding, but she'd found it soon enough. She slowed down when she noticed that he was...reading the Bible?

"Mr...Hellstrom?"

Daimon's entire body tensed when he heard her voice.

She shouldn't have come. She didn't know him. And even if she would know him in the future, even then she did not care for him the way he had for her. She had made that clear.

And yet, the thought that she was visiting him, that she might actually care for him in some way, even if she did not know him, it made him feel as though God had granted him wings with which to soar through the heavens.

Daimon closed his Bible and looked up at Patsy.

"Ms. Walker." He tried to keep his tone neutral. He failed.

Cripes.

Now that she was here, she didn't know...what to say. Or how to act. Or...much of anything. She'd just heard what had happened between Daimon and some man named Sawyer - in the Vatican of all places (and really, the Vatican? How did that end up here?) - and something inside of her had tugged her here. Maybe it was what he'd said to her before he'd left her alone with Owen. Maybe it was the way he'd looked at her.

Maybe she was just being nice.

She herself wasn't sure.

"I brought you food," she said, holding up the plate. "Well, what passes for food here. I thought it might...I thought you might be...hungry."

Daimon set the Bible to the side and stood. He walked over to Patsy.

"You are a kind woman, Patsy, kinder to the firstborn son of Satan than perhaps you should be." Yes, that was a compliment.

Even if the food tasted like it was from the wastes of Hell, it only mattered to him that she had brought it.

It was hard to look at Daimon. Not because he was ugly or anything - he was far from ugly - but because he had such an intensity in his expression whenever her eyes met him that it made things difficult. Her world became imbalanced. Not even her ex-husband had ever looked at her with such a strong, passionate gaze.

"You can chalk it up to having been raised in Centerville, California," Patsy replied softly. "Small, sunny town. Great parents. It teaches you how to be...kind." She looked back up at Daimon, but she didn't catch his eyes. She kept her gaze firmly on his cheek. "What happened?"

Daimon scowled. "If you mean why am I here? I caught that man, Sawyer, desecrating the Basilica of St. Peter. I..." He looked away from Patsy. "Lost control of my darker half."

He lost his temper, Patsy.

"How does that work?" The darker half. Was there a lighter half? Was there...he was the Son of Satan? If he had a darker half, what was his lighter half like? The questions - the confusion - was clear on Patsy's face as she looked at Daimon. "I just want to understand." She wanted to understand a lot. Everything.

"Due to my parentage I have been cursed with two souls in one body, each vying for control. Since my thirteenth birthday I have struggled with my darksoul. For a time I had no control over it and each night I would transform as my darksoul gained dominance over my body. Not many years ago my father connected both my souls, no longer would I be doomed to spend my nights consumed by my darksoul, with no control over my actions. But the cost was great for I must now fight my darksoul every waking moment lest it consume me. There are," He paused, and hesitated. It was not an easy thing to admit that his will was not strong enough. "Times when I lose control."

...Huh? "Sort of...like a werewolf? But without the fur and the wolfy bits?" She was genuinely confused by all of this. He was the Son of Satan. Shouldn't he have had just one soul? One very dark soul? Why did he read the Bible? Why...it didn't make any sense to Patsy. Patsy who didn't know that at home, in her future, this was the man that she was going to fall in love with. "I...I don't get it."

Daimon sighed and searched his mind for another simpler way of explaining.

"Are you familiar with the concept of id, ego, and super ego?"

"Simple psychology," Patsy nodded her head. "I studied it in freshmen year of college," she added.

"Good. The darksoul is my id, and far more dangerous and powerful than most others' ids. This... aspect of myself, this id, occasionally becomes too strong for my super ego to control and when that happens the id takes control, pushing my ego into giving in to the desires of the id. Am I making sense now?"

"..." Patsy nodded her head. It made a lot of sense, but that didn't stop it from being any less or any more disturbing. "And so you have to control your id at all times. Is that why you read the Bible? As a form of meditation? To better yourself as a person?"

"In part. I wish to distance myself from my father. You may find it difficult to believe but as a youth I attended a Jesuit Seminary until my 21st birthday when I discovered the truth of my heritage. I served God as an exorcist, freeing the possessed from their demons and for a time I aided the Defenders. For the past few weeks I sought the advice of my mentor from seminary, Father Gossett. At his behest I lived in a monastery. I... do not believe I have ever been happier as I was then, before I was captured and brought here." Which wasn't to say he actually had been happy. "At the monastery it was easy to control my darksoul. If I had not the resolve to contain my darksoul I drew strength from God and my fellow Brothers. It is... different here."

"Then why call youself the Son of Satan?" Patsy asked. "And why walk around showing off that tattoo on your chest?" She crossed her arms and tilted her head. "I mean, if you're trying to distance yourself from him, wouldn't it make more sense not to run around saying that you're his son? Or are you doing it so that someone will, I don't know, crucify you for his sins?"

"It is not a tattoo! It is a birthmark! I do not like to wear this... suit that Stacy gave me. I would rather wear as little of it as possible. I..." No, Patsy did have a point. "Before, when my darksoul took prominence each night, I called myself the Son of Satan. I thought it would be better to simply... merge my two identities." At this point he would normally go for dramatic flair and cast three fingers into the air but he had tried that before and it had not worked. "I thought if the Son of Satan could be a hero, could save lives, perhaps it would inspire others, regardless of their misdeeds, to walk a better path." He paused. "There was also the appeal of showing my father that though he sired me, he did not control me."

"Huh." Patsy tilted her head. "I can understand that, I guess. It's just very...I don't know." She shrugged. "It makes a fair amount of sense, I guess."

The truth of the matter was that with every sentence, Patsy was finding herself more and more intrigued by this man, despite the fact that he was exactly who he claimed to be. "You wanted to take your destiny - your life - into your own hands and make it your own. You wanted to be your own person." Patsy nodded and added, "I can understand that. To an extent, I suppose I can even relate to it." She met Damon's eyes with her own. "But I bet you already knew that."

There was the faintest of smiles on Daimon's face. "I had supposed. You never said so directly."

Patsy held her gaze at that. "You should smile more," she said, not knowing that he doesn't usually smile. "It brightens your eyes." There was something that she wanted to ask him, but...she didn't know how he'd react to it. Or how she'd react to his answer. But she had to know. Especially with the way he'd acted earlier. Especially with what he'd said about...her being beautiful in any time. "Can I ask you one more question?"

"Anything." Daimon replied without hesitation.

"What am I to you?" It's a loaded question, and Patsy was fully aware of that fact. But they were stuck on a ship together for who knows how long. She needed to know.

That was a very open ended question. "In what regard?"

"In every regard? I don't know. It's just that you look at me a certain way, and you say these things to me, and I've known you all of a half hour, but you seem to have known me for longer and it's very, very confusing." She uncrosses and recrosses her arms. "What am I to you? What was I to you? What will I be to you? What's this thing that seems to be between us that I don't know about, but you do?"

Daimon was silent as he considered his answer.

"If you are indeed from my past, or from a universe that will unfold as it has in mine..." He looked at Patsy. "As I said before, we met when we were both members of the Defenders. You were going through a difficult time. You had been changed, possessed by a demon for a time." He did not want to tell her that the reason she was possessed was because she had been offered up by her mother in exchange for her mother's life. "I helped you learn more of the reasons behind your possession. It was not through any fault of your own." He was quick to add those last words.

"It was not long before I found myself..." He did not want to say the word love, not after her rejection. "Caring for you. Somehow my feelings came to the attention of my father. He changed you into a demon and brought you to Hell, knowing I and the other Defenders would follow. I fought my father. The Defenders saw that I was losing and in a last attempt at escape, Dr. Strange gave my darksoul dominance over me. I remained with my father and in exchange he returned you to your true form and sent you and the Defenders back to earth."

Daimon sighed and looked away. "For months I tried to purge myself of my human half, to rid myself of any compassion but I could not. I escaped my father and rejoined the Defenders. When you first saw me I thought- I thought perhaps you felt as I did but you... did not. I cannot blame you for it, especially after what you went through because of me, because of how I felt for you, and because of who I am."

"You gave up what you're trying so hard to fight against so that I could live?" She searched his face, honestly touched by his gesture. His...future gesture? "After your father...used me as a plaything to torture you with." She frowned. "But you...have feelings for me."

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