Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2011-03-31 11:03 am
ptahrrific) wrote2011-03-31 11:03 am
Fake News: State of Grace: the Despair That Slumber'd remix (4/4)
Title: State of Grace: the Despair That Slumber'd remix (4/4)
Fandom: The Colbert Report/His Dark Materials
Rating: R
Disclaimer/Warnings: Same as on State of Grace.
Final scenes from the Expectingverse-with-daemons. Plus some illustrated profiles of the daemons themselves, because I'm addicted to backstory.
One | Two | Three |Four&.
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
"Lor, wait! Please!"
With Aubrezhan safely stowed in her purse, Lorraine strode through the overcast parking lot without looking back. "I'm not doing this anymore, Jon!"
"If you could just let me know what—what Ty wants—"
She stopped at the side of the little blue Camry, a gust of wind sending dry leaves whirling past her feet, and turned on her pursuers. "He wants his father to leave him alone! Can't you of all people understand that?"
A low blow, but right then she didn't care. Not with both Jon and Avi stumbling as they walked, her own salamander-daemon still wincing in sympathy.
"Wouldn't let Stephen near him right now even if he wanted it," she continued. "I put up with a lot from that man before I cut him loose, but I never would have let him touch my daemon, much less—! I thought you had more self-respect than that!"
"It's not what it looks like. There's a good explanation, I swear."
Aubrezhan had already dug out her keys; Lorraine put a hand in her purse and found them promptly dropped into her palm. "I'll believe that when I hear it."
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
While Jon and Avi all but collapsed in the den, Charlene shepherded an unusually subdued Tyrone into the laundry room. She almost didn't know it was him at first, what with the glum way Honeypie was draped over his shoulder.
"Steve," she said, shaking him out of his reverie. "What happened?"
"Dog died," replied Tyrone with a shrug. "Lorraine was pissed. I think we broke Stephen."
Charlene leaned against the dryer. "Broke him...?"
"He thinks it's his fault we lost Shasta," said Honeypie hoarsely.
"And Sweetness figured the way to fix it was to make a power play for his kids," muttered Tyrone, before shifting into Stevie, eyes welling up with tears. "I dunno what to do. I never know what to do. Don't even know when I've broken a rule until somebody says so, but then they punish me and it's okay, only Jon won't, an' I know he's mad, and—!"
It gave Charlene a shock when Honeypie nuzzled his cheek. Renoir hopped back and forth in surprise when Stevie, rather than shying from the contact, leaned his head to cradle her and began shakily stroking her fur.
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
Fresh tears welled behind Stephen's lenses.
"You've gone before," realized Jon: blurred and washed-out, all low tones and muddy greys.
Had he? Someone had gone. Didn't mean it was him. "Last year..."
"Oh," breathed Jon. "You went with Lorraine."
"Said she would divorce me if I didn't go," choked Stephen. "So we—but she did—and the counselor testified—sided with her on everything—"
"Oh, Stephen—"
"—which is how she got the kids!" Stephen's voice was a hair's breadth away from a shriek. "I thought I would be okay with George instead, but they're still missing, it still hurts—I can't lose anyone else! Don't even have the right to see them—like she thinks I'll hurt them—sure, I could be a little strict, but I would never—Jon, you know I would never—!"
Chest tight, gasping for air, he searched Jon's eyes for confirmation, reassurance, soothing.
It was Avi who replied. "Stephen, don't you see?" she whispered. "That kind of parenting—that's what drove off Shasta."
A wail of pure despair soared forth and crescendoed through the room.
For a moment, Stephen was convinced it was his—
The fingers digging into Jon's shirt twisted, Stephen's face curling into a snarl. "Why didn't you tell me they were here?" he demanded, over the baby's anguished sobbing, threaded with the kitten-formed daemon's heart-rending mews.
Shock wiped everything else from Jon's features. "Stephen. You played with them when you came in. Don't you remember?"
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
"STEPHEN COLBERT, DON'T YOU DO IT, BOY!"
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
The light from the doorway poured out over the front porch, glittering off of the raindrops, streaming down the path.
Jon could just make out Stephen's feet at the edge of his shadow.
"Don't do it!" he repeated, shouting into the downpour. "Not after you've kicked and screamed and clawed and fought to make it this far! You had to rip your soul into pieces to get through everything that's happened to you, but you did! You survived! So don't you dare leave us now!"
"What do you care?" demanded whoever was out front. "You think we tore a child from his daemon! Don't pretend you can forgive that!"
"I think he repeated what he was told!" countered Jon. "He was a child himself, you were all children, all told you weren't good enough to be loved. And you've been fighting that ever since. You wouldn't be here it all if every one of you hadn't done your share. Stephen and you as much as anyone! But you're old enough now to take responsibility. Now you have to make sure you won't pass that on to your kids!"
Sweetness turned back toward him in a slow, stumbling circle. Honeypie was nowhere to be seen; no matter how well Jon knew better, it made the tableau that much more disturbing. "Don't talk about the baby. He wouldn't treat the baby like that!"
"But one day the baby is going to grow up!" cried Avi.
A flash of white: Sweetness had bared Stephen's teeth.
"Kids trigger you! Isn't that right?" When Sweetness didn't deny it, the lynx-daemon forged on. "Especially boys. Being around Jon's son makes you anxious at the best of times. His oldest wasn't even in the building, and still triggered you hard enough to sock me over it! George is little enough that you can convince yourselves he's perfect, but what do you think is going to happen when he and Iseulbae get old enough to make messes? Or draw all over the walls? Or say the word 'no'?"
There was a long and rainy pause before the answer finally came. "You think I'll stop loving him."
"Stephen," breathed Jon, weak-kneed with relief. "Stephen, of course you'll always love him. But love by itself isn't going to take care of him. Already George needs you to know how to warm a bottle, and change a diaper, so you've learned. Now he's gonna need you to have coping skills. You can learn those too."
"What if I can't?"
"You can! It'll take more time and effort, but the therapy will help you get there. I know you can get there. I don't buy for a second that you're unfixable!"
A laugh, edged with hysteria. "What if there's no me to fix?"
Jon squinted into the gloom, as if that might help him understand.
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
The earth should have moved. Lightning should have flashed; mountains should have crumbled; the sky should have torn apart at its seams. A revelation like this deserved to be heralded.
"We're not real, Jon!" cried Stephen, and only the sudden lightness of a pretense abandoned told him it was true.
"We're a fantasy," he continued, weights falling from his heart with every word. "A child's crayon drawing of a strong grown-up and a monster-daemon who could protect him. Candy and air! I'm not the original Stephen—my daemon isn't the original sweetness—can barely even be ourselves five minutes in a row anymore! How can I expect George to count on us when there's no us here to count on? How can you love us now that you know—"
"I already knew!"
The world blurred as it spun on its axis, hurtling alone through the void.
"I know you're not the original," continued Jon. "Figured it out a while ago. About five minutes before I realized that it doesn't matter which of you came first, or how you got here, or why. You're different. That's all it is! It doesn't make you worth any less. It doesn't mean you can't be a good father!"
"How can you be sure?"
"I have faith!"
Stephen quaked with a sob of confusion and cold.
"You can do this," repeated Jon. A third figure tiptoed into the doorway behind them, its shape merging with Jon's and Avi's to form a single dim silhouette haloed in gold. "I have faith in you, Stephen. You can do this. Say it with me now."
"I can—" Stephen choked, teeth chattering. "Will this help? Will it be true if I say it enough?"
"It's already true. We're just saying it to help you believe it. You can do this."
"I—I can do this."
"I believe in you."
"You believe in...m-me. In me."
"You're real."
"I'm...." Sniffles; more shivering. "I'm real."
"You're real, Stephen, and I love you!"
"I—I'm—!"
"I can't hear you!"
"—I'm real!" I shouted, the earth wet and squelchy but solid against my feet. "I'm real, and I'm your Stephen, and I love you!"
The figure bolted down the steps and shot out into the rain, so quick that she wasn't even damp when she crashed into my arms.
—and we screamed with delight as we fell to the ground and held on, never letting go, never, no matter how hard it was when she in her joy was flicking from form to form to form in every second: kinkajou, raven, marmoset, raven, eaglet, labrador puppy, cacomistle, leopard cub, raven, kinkajou, rabbit, labrador, Irish setter, raven, Falabella foal, python, kinkajou, labrador, labrador, labrador!
We could have stayed that way forever, but Jon, dear Jon, had no reason not to assume the worst. "Stephen! Are you hurt? Honeypie! What's going on?"
As a calico kitten she clawed at the silk shirt, needle-sharp claws biting through to skin. "Shhh," I whispered, getting up as best I could with both hands pressed around her. "It's our Jon. We like him. You'll see."
Jon had knelt to soothe Avi, both of them wide-eyed as we stumbled across the grass to the foot of the porch stairs. "Stephen, what on Earth—?"
"It's her," I sobbed. "It's our—it's Stevie's—it's our Shasta."
"Oh, my Stephen," breathed Jon, eyes shining in the dark.
"We won't hear a word against her," I added quickly, as Shasta was now a baby sloth latched onto my chest. "I know she's not at her best now, but neither are we, so we won't—you understand, not a word—"
Jon almost slipped on the stairs in his haste to step out in the rain. Once his arm was around my back and his head against my shoulder, a hug tailor-made to leave space for a daemon, he breathed, "She's beautiful."
Without warning Shasta flickered into Sweetness, who flapped out of my arms to Avi and shifted into Honeypie as she landed. The lynx-daemon laughed like a sunrise, caught her under one broad grey paw, and began with firm strokes of the tongue to swipe the mud away.
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
When Lorraine sees Honeypie riding comfortably on Stephen's shoulders, and the gentle way he rests her on the ground, that's when she first starts to think that maybe this round of therapy is actually helping.
Janet's used to dissociative patients who, after they've had enough time to build up some trust, anxiously reveal that their daemons aren't as settled as they appear. With this one, they've barely shut the door for the first session when Stephen's honey bear bursts into a midnight-black raven, soars over to Rudege's perch, and attempts to stare the owl-daemon down while unsubtly flexing its claws. She'll have to talk to them about that.
Although Bobby trusts his fiancé, and is even starting to trust Stephen (to a point), he can't help but suppress a twinge of jealousy that Honeypie has taken to mock-wrestling with Cikyho while their humans tumble. It's a welcome relief when they return to the table and the hutia-daemon immediately invites Berlioz to curl around her. A sunbeam snake may not be as cuddly as a kinkajou (and may, as Stephen has pointed out on no less than fourteen separate occasions, look like a flamboyant oversized necklace if you carry yours around the way Bobby does), but she's his, and that's what matters.
Shasta likes to ride in Stephen's (or whoever's) arms when they're in the car. She's in rat-form when he announces an impending switch, and barely gets into the back seat in time. When a horse—tiny for the genus, but still definitely a horse—appears in Tracey's rearview mirror, it's a wonder she doesn't swerve right off the road.
Honeypie is back to rolling around with Avivah during foreplay, but as soon as things reach a certain point Sweetness insists on switching in. The first time Jon tries to give Stephen a handjob, he can feel her eyes on the back of his neck the whole way through; Stephen swears she understands about flashbacks now, but Jon knows if he adds any new hurts to the reservoir of old ones, she won't hesitate to spring.
(He doesn't. She doesn't. And Honeypie rests on Avi's back as they lie in the afterglow, scratching languidly behind her ears while Avi purrs and purrs.)
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
The girl's door is the last before the light from the set begins to drop off. We know it isn't empty: there are distant footsteps sometimes, and muffled voices, and one week a scent that smelled for all the world like a burning couch. But anyone hidden beyond that darkness may not be ready to be found, and my therapist says we don't want to scare them by hunting.
One of them emerges from the darkness on his own, scaring the daylights out of us in the process. Partly because he's a ghost—pale, half-translucent, almost all in silver-grey—but mostly because he's the spitting image of Jon.
It doesn't take long to figure out that the Ghost is voiceless. Luckily, his gentle smile needs no wørds. He won't touch any of our daemons, and his lynx keeps her distance from us; but the lone flash of gold on his left hand marks him as ours.
"Can you be the one to wait here?" I ask. "To greet Jermaine, or anyone else, when they're ready to meet the rest of us?"
While Imaginary Avi nuzzles each of our daemons, Imaginary Jon kisses us one by one—Stevie on the forehead, Tyrone on the hand, and Stephen, tenderly, on the lips—and steps back to take up the post.
And we—we move forward.
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
For a full portrait of Stephen's system-with-daemons, see here.
Stephen has Sweetness, a raven. (Her name was the easiest to choose.) Although she and Stephen aren't separated, she doesn't have a physical body, and in the beginning it's difficult for her to be co-conscious while Stephen's out. No wonder Stephen gets so close and cuddly with an object named after her.
In the beginning, when Sweetness is fronting, she does so in the human body rather than the daemon one. All the usual rules of contact still apply to her as a daemon, leading to easy opportunities for confusion and distress from people who don't realize what's going on.
Inside the Colbunker, Sweetness' form is settled but indistinct, appearing not as any recognizable animal but some kind of shadowy eagle-Balrog-snake-raven-demon. When she finally manifests in the physical world, it's as an ordinary (if unnervingly large) raven.
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
Tyrone has Honeypie, a kinkajou (also known as a honey bear). Her name comes from this Exit 57 sketch. Since Tyrone was doing most of the fronting when their body hit puberty, their physical daemon settled in her shape.
Kinkajous are nocturnal, but the real reason Honeypie sleeps so much is that she has a hard time being active when Stephen is fronting. (When Stevie or Sweetness take over, she goes downright catatonic.) Only when Tyrone is out front does she get a chance to shine, playful for the most part, a powerful bite kept in reserve.
When Stephen is out, he doesn't feel the need to stay close to Honeypie. If not for the attention it would draw to walk around without a visible daemon, he would just as soon leave her behind altogether. Instead, he carries her around when necessary; he doesn't have the solemn taboo against touching her, but even at the beginning of the story it's uncomfortable, and he avoids it as much as he can.
After they've been involved with Jon for some time, Honeypie and Tyrone both feel they deserve some kind of medal for never once making a "kink a Jew" pun.
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
Stevie has Shasta, not yet settled. Her name comes from the canon character's childhood dog. The system's first split was the equivalent of a separation ordeal, with strong!Stevie retaining a daemon who went by all the endearments formerly applied to Shasta, while weak!Stevie hid away and Shasta herself went missing.
For a long time Stevie felt it was a violation to touch the other alters' daemons. As they all begin to accept each other as part of a single united system, he gains the ability to draw comfort from contact with them.
When the still-unsettled Shasta reappears, the system's daemon-body regains the ability to change shape. Shasta is the only one who can change it at will, but the rest of the time it switches automatically to accommodate the settled form of whichever daemon (including, now, Sweetness) is fronting. By now all members of the system can safely touch each other, making it easier for them to switch between whatever levels of co-consciousness they need.
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
Caesar has Honeybunch, a cacomistle. Her name was the first thing that came to mind that sounded similar to "Honeypie." (Yes, that means we now have Honeybee, Hunnibi, Honeybunch, and Honeypie the honey bear. Aren't you glad half of them prefer not to come out?)
Cacomistles are relatives of kinkajous, although more reclusive and not often kept as pets. Even before Shasta's return, Honeybunch can easily front in Honeypie's body. The twins have developed a strong co-consciousness over the years which makes contact not a problem.
Jermaine has Fantasia Minor, a Falabella miniature horse. His name comes from the canon character's childhood horse.
He's not big enough to ride, but he's small enough that you can get away with calling him a pony, which is almost as good.
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
Jon has Avivah, a Canada lynx. As big cats go, they're small, grey, and furry. Her name is from a Hebrew expression meaning "springtime", even though she's a tundra animal, because Jon is contrary like that.
Charlene has Renoir, a ruby-throated hummingbird. His name comes from the French painter. He's small and fast and able to fly away quickly, and has a refined sense of taste.
Steve Carell's daemon never got mentioned, but it is totally a wood duck. Because, come on, you can't look at this guy and tell me he wouldn't be awesome at Even Stevphen. Anderson Cooper of course has a silver fox, and they voluntarily went through a separation ordeal when he was in his twenties, because that's the kind of BAMF he is.
Lorraine has Aubrezhan, a marbled salamander. Mostly because there aren't enough reptile/amphibian daemons around, but it doesn't hurt that they're also protective mothers to their eggs.
George has Iseulbae, not yet settled. Her name comes from the Korean for "dew" and "inspiration." Turns out Pullman has confirmed that a baby's daemon is named by the parents' daemons...and in this case the name came from Avi, sealing Jon's place in George's life.
Iseulbae will grow up associating with Honeypie, and, unbeknownst to her, a carefully kinkajou-shaped Shasta. Sometimes, when they're alone, a raven-daemon with no visible human shows up and watches over them; they can't figure out why a witch would take interest in them (George has a theory for a while that she's his biological mom), and Sweetness refuses to say. But she's fun to fly with, and by the time Stephen explains his condition to his son, Iseulbae has already settled as an ultramarine lory (spawning inevitable Tokyo Mew Mew jokes).
Some time later, George falls for a guy named Seamus and his daemon Réiltín, a slow loris. These two freak out a little when they first meet George's parents, because they did some pre-emptive Googling, but that big black bird looking at Réiltín like a tasty snack is definitely not the daemon the Internet prepared them for.
Fandom: The Colbert Report/His Dark Materials
Rating: R
Disclaimer/Warnings: Same as on State of Grace.
Final scenes from the Expectingverse-with-daemons. Plus some illustrated profiles of the daemons themselves, because I'm addicted to backstory.
One | Two | Three |
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
(33: Anger and Daemons)
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
"Lor, wait! Please!"
With Aubrezhan safely stowed in her purse, Lorraine strode through the overcast parking lot without looking back. "I'm not doing this anymore, Jon!"
"If you could just let me know what—what Ty wants—"
She stopped at the side of the little blue Camry, a gust of wind sending dry leaves whirling past her feet, and turned on her pursuers. "He wants his father to leave him alone! Can't you of all people understand that?"
A low blow, but right then she didn't care. Not with both Jon and Avi stumbling as they walked, her own salamander-daemon still wincing in sympathy.
"Wouldn't let Stephen near him right now even if he wanted it," she continued. "I put up with a lot from that man before I cut him loose, but I never would have let him touch my daemon, much less—! I thought you had more self-respect than that!"
"It's not what it looks like. There's a good explanation, I swear."
Aubrezhan had already dug out her keys; Lorraine put a hand in her purse and found them promptly dropped into her palm. "I'll believe that when I hear it."
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
(34: Jon, Full of Grace)
◊ · § · ◊ · § · ◊
While Jon and Avi all but collapsed in the den, Charlene shepherded an unusually subdued Tyrone into the laundry room. She almost didn't know it was him at first, what with the glum way Honeypie was draped over his shoulder.
"Steve," she said, shaking him out of his reverie. "What happened?"
"Dog died," replied Tyrone with a shrug. "Lorraine was pissed. I think we broke Stephen."
Charlene leaned against the dryer. "Broke him...?"
"He thinks it's his fault we lost Shasta," said Honeypie hoarsely.
"And Sweetness figured the way to fix it was to make a power play for his kids," muttered Tyrone, before shifting into Stevie, eyes welling up with tears. "I dunno what to do. I never know what to do. Don't even know when I've broken a rule until somebody says so, but then they punish me and it's okay, only Jon won't, an' I know he's mad, and—!"
It gave Charlene a shock when Honeypie nuzzled his cheek. Renoir hopped back and forth in surprise when Stevie, rather than shying from the contact, leaned his head to cradle her and began shakily stroking her fur.
Fresh tears welled behind Stephen's lenses.
"You've gone before," realized Jon: blurred and washed-out, all low tones and muddy greys.
Had he? Someone had gone. Didn't mean it was him. "Last year..."
"Oh," breathed Jon. "You went with Lorraine."
"Said she would divorce me if I didn't go," choked Stephen. "So we—but she did—and the counselor testified—sided with her on everything—"
"Oh, Stephen—"
"—which is how she got the kids!" Stephen's voice was a hair's breadth away from a shriek. "I thought I would be okay with George instead, but they're still missing, it still hurts—I can't lose anyone else! Don't even have the right to see them—like she thinks I'll hurt them—sure, I could be a little strict, but I would never—Jon, you know I would never—!"
Chest tight, gasping for air, he searched Jon's eyes for confirmation, reassurance, soothing.
It was Avi who replied. "Stephen, don't you see?" she whispered. "That kind of parenting—that's what drove off Shasta."
A wail of pure despair soared forth and crescendoed through the room.
For a moment, Stephen was convinced it was his—
The fingers digging into Jon's shirt twisted, Stephen's face curling into a snarl. "Why didn't you tell me they were here?" he demanded, over the baby's anguished sobbing, threaded with the kitten-formed daemon's heart-rending mews.
Shock wiped everything else from Jon's features. "Stephen. You played with them when you came in. Don't you remember?"
"STEPHEN COLBERT, DON'T YOU DO IT, BOY!"
The light from the doorway poured out over the front porch, glittering off of the raindrops, streaming down the path.
Jon could just make out Stephen's feet at the edge of his shadow.
"Don't do it!" he repeated, shouting into the downpour. "Not after you've kicked and screamed and clawed and fought to make it this far! You had to rip your soul into pieces to get through everything that's happened to you, but you did! You survived! So don't you dare leave us now!"
"What do you care?" demanded whoever was out front. "You think we tore a child from his daemon! Don't pretend you can forgive that!"
"I think he repeated what he was told!" countered Jon. "He was a child himself, you were all children, all told you weren't good enough to be loved. And you've been fighting that ever since. You wouldn't be here it all if every one of you hadn't done your share. Stephen and you as much as anyone! But you're old enough now to take responsibility. Now you have to make sure you won't pass that on to your kids!"
Sweetness turned back toward him in a slow, stumbling circle. Honeypie was nowhere to be seen; no matter how well Jon knew better, it made the tableau that much more disturbing. "Don't talk about the baby. He wouldn't treat the baby like that!"
"But one day the baby is going to grow up!" cried Avi.
A flash of white: Sweetness had bared Stephen's teeth.
"Kids trigger you! Isn't that right?" When Sweetness didn't deny it, the lynx-daemon forged on. "Especially boys. Being around Jon's son makes you anxious at the best of times. His oldest wasn't even in the building, and still triggered you hard enough to sock me over it! George is little enough that you can convince yourselves he's perfect, but what do you think is going to happen when he and Iseulbae get old enough to make messes? Or draw all over the walls? Or say the word 'no'?"
There was a long and rainy pause before the answer finally came. "You think I'll stop loving him."
"Stephen," breathed Jon, weak-kneed with relief. "Stephen, of course you'll always love him. But love by itself isn't going to take care of him. Already George needs you to know how to warm a bottle, and change a diaper, so you've learned. Now he's gonna need you to have coping skills. You can learn those too."
"What if I can't?"
"You can! It'll take more time and effort, but the therapy will help you get there. I know you can get there. I don't buy for a second that you're unfixable!"
A laugh, edged with hysteria. "What if there's no me to fix?"
Jon squinted into the gloom, as if that might help him understand.
The earth should have moved. Lightning should have flashed; mountains should have crumbled; the sky should have torn apart at its seams. A revelation like this deserved to be heralded.
"We're not real, Jon!" cried Stephen, and only the sudden lightness of a pretense abandoned told him it was true.
"We're a fantasy," he continued, weights falling from his heart with every word. "A child's crayon drawing of a strong grown-up and a monster-daemon who could protect him. Candy and air! I'm not the original Stephen—my daemon isn't the original sweetness—can barely even be ourselves five minutes in a row anymore! How can I expect George to count on us when there's no us here to count on? How can you love us now that you know—"
"I already knew!"
The world blurred as it spun on its axis, hurtling alone through the void.
"I know you're not the original," continued Jon. "Figured it out a while ago. About five minutes before I realized that it doesn't matter which of you came first, or how you got here, or why. You're different. That's all it is! It doesn't make you worth any less. It doesn't mean you can't be a good father!"
"How can you be sure?"
"I have faith!"
Stephen quaked with a sob of confusion and cold.
"You can do this," repeated Jon. A third figure tiptoed into the doorway behind them, its shape merging with Jon's and Avi's to form a single dim silhouette haloed in gold. "I have faith in you, Stephen. You can do this. Say it with me now."
"I can—" Stephen choked, teeth chattering. "Will this help? Will it be true if I say it enough?"
"It's already true. We're just saying it to help you believe it. You can do this."
"I—I can do this."
"I believe in you."
"You believe in...m-me. In me."
"You're real."
"I'm...." Sniffles; more shivering. "I'm real."
"You're real, Stephen, and I love you!"
"I—I'm—!"
"I can't hear you!"
"—I'm real!" I shouted, the earth wet and squelchy but solid against my feet. "I'm real, and I'm your Stephen, and I love you!"
The figure bolted down the steps and shot out into the rain, so quick that she wasn't even damp when she crashed into my arms.
—and we screamed with delight as we fell to the ground and held on, never letting go, never, no matter how hard it was when she in her joy was flicking from form to form to form in every second: kinkajou, raven, marmoset, raven, eaglet, labrador puppy, cacomistle, leopard cub, raven, kinkajou, rabbit, labrador, Irish setter, raven, Falabella foal, python, kinkajou, labrador, labrador, labrador!
We could have stayed that way forever, but Jon, dear Jon, had no reason not to assume the worst. "Stephen! Are you hurt? Honeypie! What's going on?"
As a calico kitten she clawed at the silk shirt, needle-sharp claws biting through to skin. "Shhh," I whispered, getting up as best I could with both hands pressed around her. "It's our Jon. We like him. You'll see."
Jon had knelt to soothe Avi, both of them wide-eyed as we stumbled across the grass to the foot of the porch stairs. "Stephen, what on Earth—?"
"It's her," I sobbed. "It's our—it's Stevie's—it's our Shasta."
"Oh, my Stephen," breathed Jon, eyes shining in the dark.
"We won't hear a word against her," I added quickly, as Shasta was now a baby sloth latched onto my chest. "I know she's not at her best now, but neither are we, so we won't—you understand, not a word—"
Jon almost slipped on the stairs in his haste to step out in the rain. Once his arm was around my back and his head against my shoulder, a hug tailor-made to leave space for a daemon, he breathed, "She's beautiful."
Without warning Shasta flickered into Sweetness, who flapped out of my arms to Avi and shifted into Honeypie as she landed. The lynx-daemon laughed like a sunrise, caught her under one broad grey paw, and began with firm strokes of the tongue to swipe the mud away.
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(Epilogue)
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When Lorraine sees Honeypie riding comfortably on Stephen's shoulders, and the gentle way he rests her on the ground, that's when she first starts to think that maybe this round of therapy is actually helping.
Janet's used to dissociative patients who, after they've had enough time to build up some trust, anxiously reveal that their daemons aren't as settled as they appear. With this one, they've barely shut the door for the first session when Stephen's honey bear bursts into a midnight-black raven, soars over to Rudege's perch, and attempts to stare the owl-daemon down while unsubtly flexing its claws. She'll have to talk to them about that.
Although Bobby trusts his fiancé, and is even starting to trust Stephen (to a point), he can't help but suppress a twinge of jealousy that Honeypie has taken to mock-wrestling with Cikyho while their humans tumble. It's a welcome relief when they return to the table and the hutia-daemon immediately invites Berlioz to curl around her. A sunbeam snake may not be as cuddly as a kinkajou (and may, as Stephen has pointed out on no less than fourteen separate occasions, look like a flamboyant oversized necklace if you carry yours around the way Bobby does), but she's his, and that's what matters.
Shasta likes to ride in Stephen's (or whoever's) arms when they're in the car. She's in rat-form when he announces an impending switch, and barely gets into the back seat in time. When a horse—tiny for the genus, but still definitely a horse—appears in Tracey's rearview mirror, it's a wonder she doesn't swerve right off the road.
Honeypie is back to rolling around with Avivah during foreplay, but as soon as things reach a certain point Sweetness insists on switching in. The first time Jon tries to give Stephen a handjob, he can feel her eyes on the back of his neck the whole way through; Stephen swears she understands about flashbacks now, but Jon knows if he adds any new hurts to the reservoir of old ones, she won't hesitate to spring.
(He doesn't. She doesn't. And Honeypie rests on Avi's back as they lie in the afterglow, scratching languidly behind her ears while Avi purrs and purrs.)
The girl's door is the last before the light from the set begins to drop off. We know it isn't empty: there are distant footsteps sometimes, and muffled voices, and one week a scent that smelled for all the world like a burning couch. But anyone hidden beyond that darkness may not be ready to be found, and my therapist says we don't want to scare them by hunting.
One of them emerges from the darkness on his own, scaring the daylights out of us in the process. Partly because he's a ghost—pale, half-translucent, almost all in silver-grey—but mostly because he's the spitting image of Jon.
It doesn't take long to figure out that the Ghost is voiceless. Luckily, his gentle smile needs no wørds. He won't touch any of our daemons, and his lynx keeps her distance from us; but the lone flash of gold on his left hand marks him as ours.
"Can you be the one to wait here?" I ask. "To greet Jermaine, or anyone else, when they're ready to meet the rest of us?"
While Imaginary Avi nuzzles each of our daemons, Imaginary Jon kisses us one by one—Stevie on the forehead, Tyrone on the hand, and Stephen, tenderly, on the lips—and steps back to take up the post.
And we—we move forward.
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(The Daemons)
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For a full portrait of Stephen's system-with-daemons, see here.
Stephen has Sweetness, a raven. (Her name was the easiest to choose.) Although she and Stephen aren't separated, she doesn't have a physical body, and in the beginning it's difficult for her to be co-conscious while Stephen's out. No wonder Stephen gets so close and cuddly with an object named after her.In the beginning, when Sweetness is fronting, she does so in the human body rather than the daemon one. All the usual rules of contact still apply to her as a daemon, leading to easy opportunities for confusion and distress from people who don't realize what's going on.
Inside the Colbunker, Sweetness' form is settled but indistinct, appearing not as any recognizable animal but some kind of shadowy eagle-Balrog-snake-raven-demon. When she finally manifests in the physical world, it's as an ordinary (if unnervingly large) raven.
Tyrone has Honeypie, a kinkajou (also known as a honey bear). Her name comes from this Exit 57 sketch. Since Tyrone was doing most of the fronting when their body hit puberty, their physical daemon settled in her shape.Kinkajous are nocturnal, but the real reason Honeypie sleeps so much is that she has a hard time being active when Stephen is fronting. (When Stevie or Sweetness take over, she goes downright catatonic.) Only when Tyrone is out front does she get a chance to shine, playful for the most part, a powerful bite kept in reserve.
When Stephen is out, he doesn't feel the need to stay close to Honeypie. If not for the attention it would draw to walk around without a visible daemon, he would just as soon leave her behind altogether. Instead, he carries her around when necessary; he doesn't have the solemn taboo against touching her, but even at the beginning of the story it's uncomfortable, and he avoids it as much as he can.
After they've been involved with Jon for some time, Honeypie and Tyrone both feel they deserve some kind of medal for never once making a "kink a Jew" pun.
Stevie has Shasta, not yet settled. Her name comes from the canon character's childhood dog. The system's first split was the equivalent of a separation ordeal, with strong!Stevie retaining a daemon who went by all the endearments formerly applied to Shasta, while weak!Stevie hid away and Shasta herself went missing.For a long time Stevie felt it was a violation to touch the other alters' daemons. As they all begin to accept each other as part of a single united system, he gains the ability to draw comfort from contact with them.
When the still-unsettled Shasta reappears, the system's daemon-body regains the ability to change shape. Shasta is the only one who can change it at will, but the rest of the time it switches automatically to accommodate the settled form of whichever daemon (including, now, Sweetness) is fronting. By now all members of the system can safely touch each other, making it easier for them to switch between whatever levels of co-consciousness they need.
Caesar has Honeybunch, a cacomistle. Her name was the first thing that came to mind that sounded similar to "Honeypie." (Yes, that means we now have Honeybee, Hunnibi, Honeybunch, and Honeypie the honey bear. Aren't you glad half of them prefer not to come out?)Cacomistles are relatives of kinkajous, although more reclusive and not often kept as pets. Even before Shasta's return, Honeybunch can easily front in Honeypie's body. The twins have developed a strong co-consciousness over the years which makes contact not a problem.
Jermaine has Fantasia Minor, a Falabella miniature horse. His name comes from the canon character's childhood horse.
He's not big enough to ride, but he's small enough that you can get away with calling him a pony, which is almost as good.
Jon has Avivah, a Canada lynx. As big cats go, they're small, grey, and furry. Her name is from a Hebrew expression meaning "springtime", even though she's a tundra animal, because Jon is contrary like that.Charlene has Renoir, a ruby-throated hummingbird. His name comes from the French painter. He's small and fast and able to fly away quickly, and has a refined sense of taste.Steve Carell's daemon never got mentioned, but it is totally a wood duck. Because, come on, you can't look at this guy and tell me he wouldn't be awesome at Even Stevphen. Anderson Cooper of course has a silver fox, and they voluntarily went through a separation ordeal when he was in his twenties, because that's the kind of BAMF he is.
Lorraine has Aubrezhan, a marbled salamander. Mostly because there aren't enough reptile/amphibian daemons around, but it doesn't hurt that they're also protective mothers to their eggs.
George has Iseulbae, not yet settled. Her name comes from the Korean for "dew" and "inspiration." Turns out Pullman has confirmed that a baby's daemon is named by the parents' daemons...and in this case the name came from Avi, sealing Jon's place in George's life.Iseulbae will grow up associating with Honeypie, and, unbeknownst to her, a carefully kinkajou-shaped Shasta. Sometimes, when they're alone, a raven-daemon with no visible human shows up and watches over them; they can't figure out why a witch would take interest in them (George has a theory for a while that she's his biological mom), and Sweetness refuses to say. But she's fun to fly with, and by the time Stephen explains his condition to his son, Iseulbae has already settled as an ultramarine lory (spawning inevitable Tokyo Mew Mew jokes).
Some time later, George falls for a guy named Seamus and his daemon Réiltín, a slow loris. These two freak out a little when they first meet George's parents, because they did some pre-emptive Googling, but that big black bird looking at Réiltín like a tasty snack is definitely not the daemon the Internet prepared them for.
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