"So, uh... I've been looking into your medical results."
Seated alone in the staff room, Cobalt sighed and held his phone closer to his ear.
"Alison..."
"No you're gonna wanna hear this bluebell. Have you weighed yourself lately?" she human asked, her voice patchy from calling him underground.
He raised an eyebrow.
"No, I haven't."
"Right, well, don't be surprised if you found yourself getting a little heavier. I dunno how else to say it, but your muscles have grown, like... denser."
"Denser?"
"Yeah. How do I put this... Your body has become the biochemical equivalent of a nuclear reactor, minus the radiation. It takes the energy your stomach generates, uses it to superheat your blood which somehow causes your strength to increase. A lot. And the more it happens, the more residual muscle density is going to build up."
The Incubus shook his head, growing a little distressed.
"S- Slow down, Alison. You're not making any sense here."
"That same biochemical process can accelerate the body's natural healing factor and promote the genesis of new bones. And that's just what I could figure out from what I'm reading here. Fuck knows what else you're capable of," the scientist concluded.
Cobalt sat up in his seat, feeling a cold sweat roll down his back. He knew there were changes going on inside him - iron horns notwithstanding - but hearing Alison tell him like this made it all painfully real.
"What... do I do?" he asked in a quiet voice.
He heard her sigh wearily.
"I dunno, bluebell. I'll think of something. In the meantime, I recommend you up your protein and calcium intake. Maybe look into some mineral supplements. Osteogenesis of that magnitude can fuck you up if you know what I'm saying."
"R- Right..."
"As for your magic, I'm still working on that. Might need to get a few shavings of your new horns before I can make any headway into that area."
He didn't answer her, feeling ashamed as the dull pain in his head perpetually throbbed.
"... Hey. We'll figure this out yet, bluebell. Swear on it."
"Yes, well... Thank you, Alison. I'll talk to you later," the Incubus sighed, flipping his phone shut.
Slipping it back into his pocket, Cobalt leaned back in his seat and stared hard at the staff room wall.
He felt ill. A week had passed since the incident with the Devil, and he still couldn't get his head around what was happening to him. Students and colleagues alike still stared at his iron horns, and that smouldering ember seemed to burn hotter and hotter in the pit of his stomach with every passing day. Sometimes, when he lost his concentration, it would spread through his body for a split second, causing his veins to glow a frightening red, his scars lighting up the brightest of all. He didn't understand. He wasn't a fully-grown Incubus, at least not physically. Why was all this happening to him now?
Stories of what happened at the party spread through the school like a wildfire. Before long, damn near the entire town knew about the rage he flipped into, and the horrid things he subjected all the witnesses to. Magnus' expulsion didn't do anything to improve the matter, and by the time the week was out, the populace of B.I.D. looked upon Cobalt with new eyes. Awe, pity, confusion and fear.
He hadn't even gone to see his family like he had planned. He couldn't show himself to them, not like this.
"Did Brass have to deal with this...?" he murmured to himself, leaning forward as he clasped his hands together.
Surely even the great Hellhound had trouble dealing with what he was. Right?
"Agh..."
Shaking his head, he got out of his seat and stepped over to the staff room fridge.
As terrible as he felt, as strange as the situation was, he had to have learned by now that that there was no sense in worrying himself sick over it. Regardless of anything, he was still a teacher, and he had to focus on that as a priority. It was his core class' last year, and he had to make sure that they were ready for their final exams.
Pulling out a lunchbox that he had stashed away earlier in the day, the Incubus opened it up and produced a lettuce and tomato sandwich that he had made for himself that morning. He was so preoccupied with fretting that day that he had completely forgotten to eat lunch.
"Get it together, Trayer. You'll be fine. Hopefully," he sighed, taking a bite of his sandwich.
He had hoped to taste soft bread, crisp lettuce and sweet tomato. Hell, he would have been fine with bland bread, wilted lettuce and mediocre tomato.
But all Cobalt tasted in his sandwich was ash. Cold, claggy and disgusting.
Coughing and spluttering, the Incubus spat the half-chewed lump of sandwich onto the floor. Sticking his tongue out, he desperately clawed at it, scraping it clean.
"Ugh! Wh- What the Hell?!" he cried aloud, trying and failing to get the taste out of his mouth.
Shaking his head, the Incubus grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge, tore the cap off and immediately tipped it down his throat. He nearly drained the entire carton by the time he realised what he was doing. With a deep gasp for air, he recapped the carton and shoved it back into the fridge.
He stared down at the glob of food he spat onto the floor.
"I... what?" he breathed.
He really hoped Alison got back to him soon with a solution. This was almost becoming too much to bear.
"Get it together... Get it together..."
Cleaning up his mess, the Incubus gathered up his belongings and stepped out of the staff room, fixing to return to his dorm as quickly as possible in order to figure out a way forward. He direly hoped that was just a fluke, that his sandwich had just gone bad or something. But a small part of him was sure that-
"MISTA TRAYA!"
Flinching, the Incubus craned his neck to see Lottie barreling down the hall, her arms outstretched and flailing.
"Lottie? What are you-?"
The Golem slammed into the Incubus was all the force of a runaway freight train, wrapping her arms tight around him as she made impact. Grunting in exertion, the Incubus just about managed to stay upright, his shoes screeching against the floor as he was pushed back a few inches.
"We gotta go, we gotta go, we gotta go!" Lottie cried ecstatically, jumping up and down as she rubbed her cheek against his chest.
"L- Lottie, calm down!"
"Quinn's gonna be able to come home! C'mon we gotta go get her!"
His eyes widened. She was getting discharged?
"That's good news, Lottie. But do you really need me to come with you?" he asked, unwilling to leave school grounds in his current state.
The Golem shook her head violently, whapping her silvery curls against her teacher and almost causing her glasses to fly off.
"Yah! The doctors and nurses said I can't come back by myself anymore because I tried to have a sleepover!"
"At the hospital?"
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She nodded emphatically.
"You... tried to sleep over at the hospital?"
"Me and Quinn have sleepovers all the time!"
"R- Right..."
As much as he didn't want to go out in public, he had to admit that he owed Quinn heavily. It was his fault that she was hospitalised in the first place; he may as well apologise to her in person.
Cobalt took a deep breath.
"Alright, Lottie. Let's go get her."
-----
There was once a time when Cobalt felt ashamed to be out in public. Most demons didn't even know what an Incubus was, never mind what one looked like, so seeing a blue-skinned demon walking around outside was enough to get most people to stop what they were doing and stare. he figured that was why he deigned to study to be a teacher in Oxford. At least on Earth, he could disguise himself as a regular human, just like all the rest.
In the ensuing months since his first term as a teacher, however, he found his confidence growing. The populace of Brimstone gradually got used to his appearance and grew familiar with his name. He began to feel more comfortable when out doing his shopping, and as he reconnected with the people of Brimstone, he found himself enjoying being outside more and more.
But now... Now it was like nothing had ever changed.
As Lottie dragged Cobalt through the streets of Brimstone by the wrist, he felt the burning stares of all who passed by him. Young children jogged their parents' arms and pointed at his iron horns, loudly asking why they looked like that. A few demons that Cobalt recognised from around town had to look twice to make sure they weren't just seeing things.
"We're nearly there!" Lottie exclaimed breathlessly, pulling Cobalt up an inclining footpath.
"Y- Yeah..." he murmured, looking down shamefully as he tried to avoid the eyes peering at him.
He tried to put it out of his mind. Eyes down, teeth gritted... A routine he hadn't had to perform for months.
"Let's... Let's hurry up, Lottie," he urged his student.
"Okay!"
Having hooves in place of feet really didn't do much to slow Golems down, especially when they put their minds to it. In a few short minutes, Lottie dragged him all the way up to the Brimstone Memorial Hospital, laughing to herself as she clattered into the reception area.
"We're here!" the Golem screamed at the top of her lungs, startling everyone in the hospital's entrance. The receptionist's eyes widened as she reacheed for her phone.
"Security, she's back," she said, glaring at Lottie.
Before things could escalate, Cobalt quickly scuttled over to the front desk and cleared his throat.
"W- Wait, wait! She's with me!"
The receptionist raised an eyebrow.
"Cancel that, but have them on standby."
She put the phone down.
"Mr. Trayer, it's good to see you uninjured for once. Are you here to clear up your unannounced self-discharge back in June? Quite a lot of paperwork arose from that," she told him, flipping through a few pages on the desk.
"Ah, um... N- No, not today."
"Alright. Are you here for an appointment with Doctor Elliott? You seem to have something, uh... strange going on with your hor-"
"Quinn Redtile! We're here to collect Quinn Redtile!" Cobalt blurted.
"Oh right, okay, okay... Uh... Lessee here..."
As she clicks through the computer on her desk, the Incubus glanced back at his errant student. The Golem was loudly hummng to herself as she sat in the waiting area, kicking her feet to the tuneless song. He could see a few security guards lingering around a staff-only doorway, nervously eyeing her up. They looked... scared of her?
"Here we go. Quinn Redtile. She's upstairs in Ward 2."
"Thank you!"
Signalling for Lottie to follow him, the Incubus made his way down the hall towards the elevators. Having been hospitalised quite a few times, he was well acquainted with the layout of the place, and before long the two demons found themselves standing in the entrance to Ward 2. Most of the beds were occupied by strangers, but with a hand clutching his jacket sleeve, Lottie directed Cobalt towards a bed at the back of the room.
Quinn Redtile lay beneath sterile blue sheets. It was odd seeing her without her hat, allowing her short auburn hair to jut out at erratic angles. A bandage spanned her face, holding a large wad of gauze against her left eye. The other was closed, and judging by the soft rise and fall of her chest, she was sleeping.
It was good to see her stabilised, but Cobalt couldn't help but feel guilty at the sight of her wounded eye.
Creeping over the bed, Lottie knelt next to it, plopping the full weight of her chest upon the poor Imp. Almost immediately, her eye snapped open as the wind was knocked from her lungs.
"Kuh!" spluttered the Imp.
"Quinn!" Lottie chimed joyously, wrapping her arms around her best friend.
She blinked a few times, glancing at the Golem before turning her gaze onto Cobalt.
"Huh... Cobalt? Bloody Hell are you doing here?" the Imp asked, her catlike eye still adjusting to the light.
"Lottie said you were to be discharged today. So we're here to pick you up," he explained, giving her a smile.
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that. How long has it been?"
"Around a week."
"Blimey... Alright, lemme just get my-"
Lottie suddenly gasped so loudly that several other patients yelped in surprise.
"I FORGOT ABOUT YOUR PRESENT!"
The Golem began rummaging through her skirt pockets, almost pulling the garment off with how frantically she searched. Before Cobalt was forced to stop her from a public display of indecency, she gave a triumphant cheer and pulled something from her pocket.
A small rounded stone. Little more than a pebble, really.
"Here you go! I got it from my home place!" Lottie giggled, handing it to Quinn.
The Imp smiled as she accepted her gift. For such a plutomaniac, she seemed genuinely happy to receive what appeared to be a garden-variety rock.
"Aw, Lottie... Thank you," Quinn said, running a thumb across the pebble's surface.
"It's made of kimbanite!"
Cobalt raised an eyebrow, remembering something from a geology journal he skimmed over once.
"Do you mean kimberlite, Lottie?"
"Gimbawite!"
"Kimberlite."
"Kimmamite!"
"No, kimber-"
"Kimimimimamite!"
Before this word game could get any more convoluted, Quinn cleared her throat and swung her legs out of the hospital bed. Cracking her back and yawning, she snatched a bag from underneath and gave her teacher a wave.
"Alright, alright. Gimme a tick to get changed and we'll get out of this dump. I gotta get out there and find a buyer for these pain meds," the Imp says with a wink, patting a suspicious lump beneath her hospital gown.
As she headed off to the bathroom to get dressed, Lottie sat herself down upon the bed and excitedly bounced up and down, causing it to squeak alarmingly.
"I looked for a nice rock for a long, long time!" she said, her eyes glinting as she looked over at Cobalt.
Cobalt wasn't paying attention. He was too preoccupied with worrying about what he'd say to Quinn. She seemed to be in good humour, even with one of her eyes bound. How was he going to apologise to her?
"My Mummy helped me pick it!"
Was she actually angry at him, and just hiding it because Lottie was here? That seemed likely... If he were in her shoes, he would certainly be plenty angry...
"And my Daddy said it's a very very nice and rare rock!"
And even if Quinn was open to an apology, just how would he go about it? Just saying 'sorry' wouldn't cut it, right? What was he supposed to do? Get her an apology gift? Would that not seem tacky? Go easy on her in class? Would that not be unfair? Get her a-?
"Mista Traya?"
Snapping himself out of it, he looked back at Lottie. Her childish grin was gone, replaced instead with a kind look of concern. She opened her arms wide, gesturing for him to hug her.
"It's okay."
Sighing heavily, the Incubus allowed the Golem to embrace him. Something about her exuded a soft, motherly warmth that set him at ease.
"It's okay, Mista Traya," Lottie repeated, lightly patting his head.
The Incubus took a deep breath.
"I certainly hope so, Lottie. I certainly hope so..."
Before long, Quinn returned, dressed once more in a leather jacket and her beaten flat cap. Giving them both a one-eyed wink, she gestured for her two friends to follow her down the hall. Stopping at reception to sign the her out of the hospital, the three made their way out of the Brimstone Memorial Hospital and began on the journey back across town towards the school. As Lottie ran on ahead, the Imp released a satisfied sigh and passed her gift from one hand to the other.
"Ah, just smell that Brimstone smog," she commented with a smile.
Cobalt cleared his throat nervously.
"Quinn, I-"
She just raised her hand.
"Lemme guess; you're gonna apologise to me, right?"
The Incubus' eyes widened.
"Um... Well..." he stuttered, thrown off-guard.
"Ha! You're like an open book sometimes, you know that?"
"Still... I'm sorry..."
Quinn waved his apology away.
"Nah nah nah, enough of that. Did you forget what this means?"
Wiggling her fingers, the Imp drew his attention to the jagged scar spanning her palm. Swallowing hard, he glanced down at the similar mark on his own hand.
"Quinn..."
"It means I'd take a bullet for you, blood brother, just like how you took a speartip for me. A little glass in the eye is nothing," Quinn said with a grin, jabbing her elbow into his stomach.
Laughing at his reaction, she gestured to her bandage.
"Plus, Doc Elliott said I might even get a corneal scar from this!"
Cobalt raised an eyebrow, surprised by both her good mood and what she had just said.
"You... want that?" he asked dumbly.
"Oh yeah. Just start calling me Deadeye Redtile once I get all this shit off, alright?"
Sighing with relief, Cobalt smiled. Somehow, as she always did, this rowdy Imp made him feel just that little bit better.
"I can't promise you that, Quinn."
"Heh, fair enough."