[ DEMON HUNTER DRIFT AU: PART II (SFW) ]

[auramatic]

DEMON HUNTER DRIFT AU: PART II
Part I (extremely NSFW) (it's very gross) (I'm sorry about everything)
Part II (NSFW post)

IT'S BACK, BABY

Imagine, if you will, that Drift is not a robot, but a gratuitously tropey half-demon hunter roaming around Boston killing demons in order to atone for his as a, well, killer for the demons. For all intents and purposes you can just assume this takes place in the same universe as Buffy (or something like it) for the sake of using a conveniently existing lore that I already really like. Maybe with an extra side of Kabbalah. whatever

HERE ARE SOME FACTS ABOUT DEMON HUNTER AU DRIFT:

• Drift is half-demon on his father's side. He never really knew his dad, idk he like fucked off or got slayed at some point when Drift was young and he was mostly raised by his mother, who died of cancer when he was a teenager. It was real sad and Drift had no money and got pretty promptly kicked out of his mom's apartment shortly after her death. This made Drift a TRAGIC TEEN ORPHAN who was homeless on the streets for a while, and given his ~UNIQUE HALF-DEMON AURA~ it wasn't really very long before he fell in with a bad crowd. A demon crowd
  
• Tragic teen orphan Drift got into drugs, specifically orihalcon, a potent substance derived from the refined blood of certain types of demons, because regular human drugs don't quite cut it for him. He was pretty knee-deep in the local demon community, partly because he didn't fit in anywhere else, partly because some of them knew his dad.
  
• Drift spent a while as a homeless addict, barely scraping by, until he was recruited by Megatron, a powerful demon lord who saw much more potential in Drift and his untamed demon powers. He offered Drift a place in his ranks even though he was half-human, and helped him hone his terrifyingly natural talent for violence. For a while Drift mostly did it to feed his habit, but he began to enjoy the rush of violence and of releasing his DEMON SIDE way more than the drugs and eventually got clean.
  
• He also inherited this sweet demon sword from his dad that Megatron apparently had handy. It is powered by his DEMON SIDE
  
• Eventually though Drift's taste for violence got a little out of control and after pissing off some of his superiors for wildly disobeying orders in favor of MORE VIOLENCE, he fucked off and went into hiding. It was at this time that he met a witch named Wing from a smug hippie witch cult based in San Francisco. Wing offered him sanctuary and to teach him to better control his demon side by being ~~more in tune with the spirits~~. Drift took the sanctuary because he had nowhere else to hide, but wound up begrudgingly coming around to Wing's way of seeing things, at least enough to grow to care about him. Unfortunately for the both of them Drift's UNIQUE HALF-DEMON AURA led Megatron's forces right to the Wing's door and he got horribly murdered. Drift managed to get away but he was so tragically torn by the untimely death of his spiritual sensei that he swore off working for Megatron and decided to USE HIS POWERS FOR GOOD
  
• Since then he's discarded the name Megatron gave him and returned to Boston as the newly-reformed demon hunter Drift. He lives in a tiny, shitty apartment in Southie and fights demons by moonlight in order to help people out and atone for his murder-filled past. He has fully embraced his former mentor's spirituality with a level of enthusiasm that, tbh, should probably be worrying. He believes (or hopes, at least) that what Wing taught him will not only help him keep his demon side in check (he is pretty much always concerned he will LOSE CONTROL), but also lead to his eventual redemption. Unfortunately Drift is still learning how exactly to have real faith in something because he is the world's biggest faker
  
• He is Jewish because I know what I like and oh boy does he ever dabble in Kabbalah and a lot of other magical spirituality bullshit that mostly drives other people up the wall
  
• Being half-demon has a lot of perks, SUCH AS: super strength/reflexes/stamina, accelerated healing, and being able to jump way higher than any human. He's obviously not as powerful as a full-blooded demon, but plenty powerful enough to be able to take them head on. He's also really good at fighting shit. Drift's swordsmanship is pretty solid, having been trained in Megatron's demon army, but also he has studied very seriously from a lot of kung fu and action films
  
• He literally owns fourteen swords

PREVIOUSLY ON DEMON HUNTER DRIFT AU:

• Rodimus is this AU's equivalent of the Slayer, and Ultra Magnus is her Watcher. She and Drift are best buds who also make out a lot. Ultra Magnus STRONGLY DISAPPROVES of Rodimus spending time with someone with Drift's substantial murder past but Rodimus believes wholeheartedly in Drift's turning a new leaf.
  
• Perceptor (Percy) is a talented witch and physicist who also serves as Drift's go-to for information about demon lore and magic. They go back a long, long ways, and is one of a handful of people Drift trusts implicitly.
  
• Dealer was, predictably, Drift's orihalcon dealer when he was living on the streets. There were some bad (good) (bad) times that Drift would really love to never talk about, and Dealer loves to hold over his head.
  
• Ratchet is a trauma surgeon whose family was killed by demons around the time Deadlock was active. After patching up Drift a couple of times, they fell into an undefined sort-of relationship that nearly came to an end when Ratchet found out just who Drift used to be. After taking some time and talking to just about everyone else Drift knows, Ratchet decided he still wanted to know Drift as he is now, though things between them are still uncertain.

Comments

[auramatic]

Drift silently (well, quietly) eats his noodles in the background while Wash makes his phone calls, listening but not hovering. Poor guy, getting snatched up like that, leaving a whole life behind. Drift knows what it's like to disappear, but to have people notice you're gone -- well, that has to be a mess of a life to come back to.

"Depends on who you talk to," Drift says, entirely seriously. "I know someone you can talk to if you want it resolved quietly, without dragging you through some big investigation. I'm guessing a fuss is the last thing you want."

He'd had four weeks of his life taken from him -- Drift's sure he wants the rest of it back. He brings a steaming bowl of ramen to the coffee table, pushing it toward Wash, and then drops onto the couch next to him, picking up the phone.

"You can stay here as long as you need," he offers, like that's a perfectly sensible thing to offer a stranger whom you have just rescued from a demon-worshiping cult. "Until things get sorted out, I mean. Oh, hey. Text from Percy." He taps his phone. "She's been doing some research -- looks like she came up with a few things. She might want to talk to you. Uh -- that is, if you want to talk to her. Anyway -- yeah -- couch is yours if you want it."

[unrecovered]

Oh. He hadn't realized there would be someone in authority who could take care of this discreetly, but...well, if magic and demons and all of that fantasy bullshit were all real, why wouldn't there be more people in the know?

"I want it to be quiet," he says after a moment, "but I want it to be thorough." He locks eyes with Drift. "Promise me, if there are any of them left, that you'll finish the job." Drift owes him nothing, and he owes Drift everything - he knows that. He also knows that the idea of even one of them still loose in the world will keep him from sleeping soundly ever again. They'd found him once; there was nothing to stop them from finding him again, except for a swift and bloody one-way trip to hell.

And then Drift offers him dinner and a place to stay, and his mind stutters as it tries to make the shift. "Thanks," he says, gingerly pulling the bowl towards him. Hopefully he wouldn't have to stay long, but...well, as soon as he can get things in order, he's finding a different place to live. No sense in making himself too easy to find. "And...yeah, I guess. Now, or...?" He doesn't really know who Percy is, aside from the fact that she seems to work with Drift. For now, that's good enough.

[auramatic]

"He can make it quiet," Drift confirms. "No investigation -- no official one, anyway."

His eyes are intent, almost grim, his face perhaps the most serious Wash has seen it all night. "I'll take care of it. You have my word. I'm not going to let them hurt you again -- or anyone else, for that matter."

This is maybe a little intense for a promise to a stranger, but he takes this job, however self-appointed, seriously. He'd hurt enough people as Deadlock; as far as he's concerned, protecting others from that same kind of harm is the bare minimum of what he can do. He shakes his head, waving his hand.

"Nah, it's late. We can meet her tomorrow. She's got a little book shop in Back Bay -- normal enough at a glance, but she's got an impressive collection of magical and demonic texts in the back room. She's a pretty brilliant physicist, too." Drift rubs the back of his neck, sitting back against the couch. "Hey, can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want. I know it's been a long day."

[unrecovered]

Not like an official investigation would know what to do with the situation anyway. Wash just nods.

The promise is intense, and he knows he hasn't earned it, but he still feels better. Not safe - he doesn't know that he'll ever feel safe again - but better. "Thank you." He turns back to his noodles, eating slowly despite the fact that his body has just remembered that he's fucking starving.

He listens as Drift talks, mentally puts 'meet Percy' on tomorrow's to-do list, and pauses at the question. "You saved my life. You're entitled to a few questions."

[auramatic]

"I did the right thing, that's all. That doesn't entitle me to anything."

Drift's pretty sure he isn't entitled to anything given his past, but that's another matter entirely. He's glad Wash doesn't mind sharing a few things all the same. He kicks his feet up on the coffee table (where there's space, anyway; it's mostly covered in half-full glasses of water, video game cases and other cluttered miscellany) and laces his fingers behind his neck.

"How'd you get mixed up with that cult in the first place?"

[unrecovered]

Wash mulls that one over for a moment. There's the long version, in which he's pretty certain someone got their hands on some highly classified files (because that's what that disastrous op had been, namely because it had become a disaster) and had used those to track him down for his connection to whatever had attacked them.

There's also the short version, which better fits his energy level and ability to process four weeks' worth of trauma, and Wash goes for that one. "They fucking kidnapped me."

[auramatic]

"Well, I hadn't assumed you'd just walked in there on your own," Drift says mildly. He knows this has to be a lot to process, though, and really, it's kind of beyond his ken, what Wash has been through. Drift's been through a lot, but he's never been held captive and tortured for a whole month. "Why you, though? I mean, do you know?"

[unrecovered]

Evidently it's a Long Version kind of night. Damn it. He sighs and puts the bowl down on the table even though he's not done - he has no idea what telling this is going to do to him, but he's been through more than one therapy session that had left him with the shakes, and that was before four months of ritual hell.

"Yeah," he says. This is all deeply classified, but it's not like the demon hunter in front of him is going to go tell the world. "Until just recently, I was in the army, deployed overseas. A few of us were sent in on a mission with minimal information one day, and..." he trails off and shakes his head. "I don't know if the brass knew what was waiting for us, but this thing showed up. Bullets did nothing to it, and it tore through kevlar like tissue paper. It tore up my back, but I survived - nobody else did.

"So the brass sent me back home with a hospital stay and an honorable discharge and a military pension and the knowledge that I'd be court-martialed to hell and back if I ever said anything about it, and I thought that was that." He shrugs. "Evidently that cult decided I was their perfect daily ritual sacrifice. I think they took me because of my encounter in Iraq, but I don't know how they knew about it. Friends in high places or a talented hacker I don't know." He shakes his head and folds his hands tightly in his lap. "I do know whatever they were worshiping or working with or whatever, they were using me to talk to it. It needs help to get into our world, and it's not here yet, so it was using them and they were using me." Putting the bowl down had been a good call, as the shaking in his hands is threatening to become full-body shivers if he doesn't calm down. "I don't know if that'll help Percy with anything, but that's all I've got."

[auramatic]

Yikes. That's maybe the shortest way Drift can think of to sum up Wash's...everything. One big mess of yikes. Drift winces a little as Wash says daily ritual sacrifice, because he knows enough about dark magic to know that the lacerations on Wash's body were far from purely earthly. He sees Wash's hands shaking and feels kind of bad for pressing the point, but he's pretty sure reaching out and touching the guy wouldn't be well-received. So instead Drift keeps his hands tucked behind his neck, a concerned frown on his face.

"It will, actually, a lot. Any context is helpful for this kind of thing. I doubt they hacked anything, though. If this cult already had a connection with this demon, they probably found you through...alternative channels."

Some channels more literal than others. But Drift can get why he's so on edge about this, especially after that brief flash outside the cultists' building. The demon had pushed through, taken over even if only for a few seconds, which meant that whatever this is, it isn't over yet.

"Well, like I said, there are wards in here against possession." It's probably not much of a reassurance, but he has to say something, with how close to a nervous breakdown Wash is starting to look. "And Percy's not just an expert on demons and magic -- she's a witch, too, and a pretty talented one. Whatever else needs to be done to close the book on this for you for good, she'll figure it out."

His faith is maybe a little too strong, but hey, positive thinking is important.

[unrecovered]

Wash only half-listens, splitting his focus between what Drift has to say and his own efforts to still his hands, so he's unprepared when alternative channels sticks in his brain and rattles down his spine. Shady connections with a higher-up, he can handle. Hacking a database even through high military levels of security, he can handle. Alternative channels-

They'd found him in a way he didn't know about and couldn't defend against- in a way they'd burned into his skin- and he's still connected to it and he still can't defend himself and he can't escape-

His breath comes short and sharp and fast. Some small part of him recognizes this for what it is - a panic attack - but that part is buried beneath the much larger part of him screaming out four weeks' worth of captivity and pain, triggered by the idea that it will never stop-

The full-body shivers he'd been trying to avoid have hit full force, and he grabs the blanket - still neatly folded from earlier in the evening - shakes it out, and wraps it tightly around himself. He doesn't hear anything else Drift is saying; he's too busy trying not to shake himself apart.

[auramatic]

Oh -- oh. Uh. Shit. Drift's seen this kind of thing before -- he's had a pretty bad panic attack or two himself, especially back when he'd been hooked on orihalcon -- but honestly, right now, he has no idea what to do. Wash is military, and Drift knows that those guys tend to process things a little different. A hug would probably not do much for Wash right now. He hovers anxiously for a few seconds, inwardly stammering.

"Hey -- hey." He almost reaches out to touch Wash's shoulder, but he stops himself. Maybe he can channel his aura into some kind of harmonic resonance that'll make his voice sound more soothing. "You're here. I mean -- I'm here, and you're safe here. It's alright."

He has no fucking idea what he's doing.