“I did,” Crux nods. “I’ve got my folks and a few brothers who live in Trēs.”
“What’s it like there?”
He shrugs. “Hell isn’t so different from the way mortals live here. We have jobs, houses, families, friends. Trēs is just the middle management, so to speak. We keep the day to day demon things running for Hell. The boring stuff, like growing food and making clothes. It’s the more powerful demons, like Nihil or Ūnus and even Duo, who have certain jobs to maintain the balance in the different realms. But for me, being a Trēs is a lot like living in a middle class suburb.”
I take in his words, my mind chewing on them as I try to picture what growing up in his world would’ve been like.
“I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that my mom and dad weren’t my biological parents,” I admit quietly as I trace the still shadows that have sunken back into Echo’s arm.
Echo hums in thought. “I’m sure you are. That’s a big realization. It’s going to take time.”
“I just...It’s stupid, but it feels like I’m betraying my parents somehow. Like by learning that I’m not really their blood daughter, it…lessens what I had with them. Or maybe it doesn’t, I don’t know. It’s all so confusing. They didn’t tell me I wasn’t theirs, and I just don’t know what to think about that.”
“Maybe they didn’t tell you that because they didn’t think it was true,” Echo tells me, his thumb gently brushing over my hip. “Whether they conceived and birthed you themselves or not, I bet you were theirs the minute they set eyes on you. That love can be more powerful than some genetic connection that isn’t there. They will never stop being your parents, and your relationship with them is unique and untouchable.”
My breath comes out in a puff, because even though I knew he was going to say something like that and try to make me feel better, it still helps. It’s what I need to hear to reassure myself that it’s true. Sometimes when we doubt, we know that those thoughts aren’t right or even logical. But we still need to hear that voice of reason to help reinforce the truth.
Ray and Tanya Gates were who I cuddled and looked up to my whole life. They read me my bed time stories, cleaned my owies, taught me to ride a bike and drive a car. My mom showed me how to throw a punch, and my dad screamed his face off when I scored my first goal and ran my first home run. They are who raised me, and they are who I’ve mourned and missed for the past nine years. Their blood may not run through my veins, but their love sure as fuck does.
“You’re right,” I say, partly to him and to myself. “They’ll always be my parents.” I turn my head to the left to look over at him. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but in Hell, Jerif mentioned you don’t have family.”
Echo doesn’t pull away from the personal question or brush me off, and that right there shows me that he wants this emotional intimacy too. “That’s right,” he says, clearing his throat. “My parents died when I was very young. They had the same power as me, so they were one of the rare Trēs demons to get called to Lucifer’s army. They died in battle.”
I squeeze his arm in what I hope is a comforting touch. “I’m sorry,” I say, and then I scrunch up my face and mentally kick myself in the shin. “Shit, I don’t mean that,” I confess in a rush. Echo raises an eyebrow, amusement flashing in his black eyes. “I mean, I hate that you had to go through that, and I know it couldn’t have been easy. But after my mom and dad died, it drove me nuts when people would casually say, ‘I’m sorry.’ It always left me bitter. It felt like as soon as someone spoke those words, it was like they were trying to dispel the discomfort my loss and pain caused them, not that the words were spoken to really comfort me. Maybe I’m crazy, but I’ve always just hated it when that’s the first thing that pops out of someone’s mouth after I mention what I’ve lost.”
I look at him apologetically, knowing I’m doing a horrible job of explaining what I mean. I sound like a brat whining about the way people try to offer sympathy.
“I get it, actually,” Echo tells me, and I instantly feel relieved. “In Trēs, the thing to say was “For the balance.” Anything bad that happened was for the balance. Like that should somehow make it better. I hated when I was told that. Because yes, the fucking balance matters, but that didn’t make me any less sad. It didn’t take the pain away from what I lost.”
I nod, completely understanding exactly what he means.
“Anyway, it was a long time ago,” he tells me.
“We’re both orphans,” I say with a sad smile on my face. “Were you lonely?”
His black eyes sweep over me with soft affection. “Yes, but then I got called as a Gate Guardian. I didn’t dread it like Crux or hate it like Jerif. When the duty was passed down to me from my grandfather, I was fucking relieved. I needed to get out of Trēs and find a new purpose. The guys became my new family.”
Crux reaches over me and punches Echo in the arm in what I think is supposed to be a friendly bro-tap, though that hit would have definitely bruised me.
“That’s fucking right,” Crux tells him with a smile. “And I quickly became your favorite out of
