Last Man Standing Match.

Three years ago, these two men met in a brutal match that ended with PD battered and bloody. Since then, they've both been through Hell, but in very different ways...or perhaps not quite so different...

Now it's for the Unified World's Championship, and PD has the promise of past glories recaptured just a ten-count away. Can he ride into the sunset having won the big one one last time, or will it be another cruel ending courtesy of the Man Who Walks Alone?

The door to Deng's office swung open without the courtesy of a knock. He looked up from his desk with a frown, but was not surprised to see Darkness stride into the room. The World Champion swept his gaze across the office, seemingly taking in every detail of the room except Deng himself.

"Darkness. I am glad you could come."

Finally, Darkness focused his eyes on Deng, holding him in his icy stare for a long moment before he spoke. "Not a problem."

"Strange, how I have owned this promotion for some months now, but this is the first interaction I have had with its champion."

"Well, I've been busy."

"I am sure that you have. But it was time we spoke about your future here in TCW. I would offer you a seat, but Ms. Stern informs me that you prefer to stand."

"That's correct. My future?"

"Yes. I am sure you remember all too well the past year, in which Ms. Stern attempted to drum you and your allies out of TCW."

"It does ring a bell now that you mention it."

"Obviously, she wanted to avoid the fate that TCW eventually suffered – being exiled from its homeland. Since that has happened, and I have taken over ownership, the previous policy no longer applies."

Darkness nodded. "Good. Was there anything else?"

"You make TCW money, Darkness," Deng continued, "As World Champion, you are responsible for the image of this company, and while Ms. Stern may not feel that your image is one we wish to promote, I acknowledge that there is something about you that has captured the imagination of the TCW fans. Even here in China, with a barrier of culture and language, you are attracting fans."

"I know. Can I go now?"

"But you must be seen to defend your titles, of course. That is why I am making sure you face valid contenders as often as possible. Ms. Stern was trying to beat you – I am just giving you challengers that test you."

"And if one of them beats me?"

"Then the fans' biggest complaint will be addressed. My people did extensive market research into TCW before I acquired it. They found that the fans were heavily divided – there were many rabid Darkness fans who were seduced by the superhuman promise you represent, but there were also more traditional wrestling fans who accused our main event scene of being stagnant. There are as many who wish to see you win as wish to see you lose. As you can imagine, this places me in an enviable position."

"Whoever loses, you win?"

Deng smiled. "Correct."

"And now you think Cameron Jones is your best chance to shake things up?"

"As I said, it is not important to me whether he wins or loses. All I care about is whether the fans tune in. Since you and he have some history, and he is a much-loved veteran, I think that Plausible Deniability versus Darkness will, as they say, draw."

"So that's all this is to you? A spectacle? A show?"

"Of course. I am afraid I have no interest in your petty rivalries. Unlike Ms. Stern, I do not intend to impose my vision upon TCW. As long as it continues to turn a profit, I am satisfied."

"And as long as you stay out of my...petty rivalries...that's fine by me." Darkness turned to leave.

"Oh, Darkness."

He turned back around slowly. "Yes?"

"According to the file I have on you, you spent time in this part of the world some years ago. Is that correct?"

"Nepal. I spent time in Nepal."

"Ah, interesting. Do you think you would be a recognisable face in that country? I am looking to expand our market share in Asia, you see..."

"I don't think they'd remember me, no. I didn't spend much time in the cities or the lowland regions."

"But you do speak Nepalese?"

"Yes."

"Good to know. I wish you luck in your match at Extreme Measures, Darkness."

"Thanks."

Darkness stepped out of the office where Gwen and Gawain were waiting for him.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"Fine."

Gawain grinned, showing too many teeth. "What's he like?"

"Pleasant. Polite. Only cares about money."

"Is that a good thing?" Gwen said as she fell into step next to Darkness and her brother.

"I don't know. Probably. If I keep making it, he has no reason to get in my way."

"So does this mean you won't get fired if you lose your belts now?"

Darkness gave Gawain a sidelong glance. "I think my position in TCW is secured."

"Hey, that's great news! You can take it easy this show!"

Darkness shrugged. "It doesn't mean I want to lose the World Championships. But yes, I suppose I don't have to lose too much sleep over PD."

Gwen smiled. She showed no signs of her brush with death a few months ago. "You think you can handle him?"

"I did last time. That was three years ago but, in my experience, veteran wrestlers tend not to get more dangerous over time. I'm confident of victory, let's put it that way."

"I guess PD is going to have to pull out something pretty impressive to win," Gawain said. They were almost at the doors leading out of the arena now, "or have some kind of crazy secret weapon we don't know about."

"It would have to be one hell of a secret weapon to beat me," Darkness said as he pushed open the door.

* * *

PD walked down the street leading to his apartment with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He kept his head down, more out of habit than anything else – despite TCW's unexpected popularity in China, there wasn't much chance of being recognised – and moved through the bustling crowds with a practiced ease.

The apartment complex was not attractive, but his accommodation was better than pretty much everyone else's. In some ways, it offended his sense of honour to play teacher's pet like this, but he was way past the point where he could afford to have principles. This was all about survival now. He only came here to postpone the inevitable: the point where his body and mind were so broken down that there was nothing left of Cameron Jones.

As he pounded up the gloomy concrete stairwell, he wondered if getting into the ring with Darkness again was part of that plan. He hadn't sought it out, although he was more than happy to have the chance to get even after three years. Something in him, a furious, animal element of his psyche, clawed out at the World Champion. He'd been waiting to wipe that smug, dispassionate look off his face for a long time. He just had to decide whether that opportunity would be worth it.

He fumbled for the key in his pocket and slid it into the lock. After a few seconds of rattling, the door finally gave up its fight and he blundered into his apartment. It was late evening now, and the light coming through the thin curtains was a bruised purple colour. Everything in the meagre apartment was rendered in stark silhouette, but he knew instantly that something was amiss. Years of being a professional fighter had honed PD's instincts – he knew he wasn't alone.

Instead of calling out (who knew how many there were, or if they were armed?) he instead he grumbled something non-specific about the door and closed it loudly, as if everything was normal. He told whoever was listening that he'd had one heckuva day and couldn't wait to catch some shut-eye. Then he pressed himself against the wall and edged around the corner towards the kitchenette.

He peered around the corner. There was light here – someone had the fridge open. PD frowned at the dark shape blocking the door. He didn't recognise anything about him.

"You want anything?"

PD froze. So this person wasn't alone – he must be talking to someone else in the apartment. He looked around, his eyes trying to pierce the shadows, but he couldn't make out the lurking form of anyone else.

"I mean you."

If PD had gone still before, now he seemed to turn rigid. He could hear his heart beating in his chest. How long before that gave out? At this rate...not long... But if this man knew he was there, what was the point in playing dumb? He took a deep breath and stepped out from his hiding place.

"No, I'm fine," he made himself say.

The figure straightened and turned around. He had an apple in one hand which he tossed towards PD. He caught it instinctively and the stranger smiled. "Go on. Treat yourself."

PD narrowed his eyes. The man had a distinctive Mediterranean cast to his features, with very black hair slicked back into a ponytail. He had a neatly trimmed goatee. He was wearing a dark suit. The kitchenette was so dark now the fridge had been closed that he couldn't make out anything else about him. His eyes were pools of shadows.

"Why don't I turn on the lights," PD said slowly. He reached over to the switch and harsh fluorescent light flooded the room. He could see that the stranger was wearing a blood-red tie and, now he could see him better, there was something strangely familiar about his features. The man looked aside for a moment, but then turned his gaze on PD, and the veteran felt his skin crawl as eyes of black fire bored into him.

"Who are you?" he growled, trying to keep the contents of his stomach where they were.

"I'm Lucifer. Now maybe you'd like to explain just who the fuck you are?"

A sunny beach. Waves gently lap onto the shore in a soft whooshing sound. The kind that makes you sleepy in the blink of an eye. The temperature is a perfect 79 degrees. Single, thin whispy clouds dot the brisk blue sky like a painter that smears drops of paint when attempting to wipe them up. A lazy breeze rolls across the water & onto the shore carrying the scent of fresh, clean air. A man sits on a deck chair in the sand. His khaki pants are rolled up to his knees as his tan socks are stuffed into his Doc Martens off to his side. His red Nike golf shirt clings to his modest but sculpted biceps & the link line of zince covers his nose between his Oakley shades.

We can meet anywhere and you insist on always meeting me here everytime. Why is that?

The sound of the waves hang over the air for another moment before the next one comes in. The man looks up from his deck chair & sees a slightly pale man with wavy blonde hair wearing a soft white t-shirt that appears to be too large for the man, making him look as if he is wearing a dress or a sleep shirt.

Because out of all of his creations...this is the one place that I truly do feel connected to.

The man gazes out over the huge body of water, slightly smiling & nods.

Yes, It truly is a thing of beauty, is it not?

The seated man looks away him & out over the water, furling his brow.

Oh...right...you're thinking in your terms. Me? I feel connected here because this is the perfect place for several of my favorite sins to run amuck. AMUCK I TELL YA!

The standing man rolls his eyes & looks down at he seated individual who now is laughing.

I'm kidding. Not really, but you know me Mike. I'm always looking for an angle.

It's Michael. You know I don't like being called Mike....Stan.

Stan rolls his eyes & murmurs it's Michael...blah, blah, blah Stan.

You know I can hear you.

Stand stands up, grinning now.

I know, I know.

Stan begins to walk down the beach as Michael follows off to the side.

So you called me here Stan. To what great honor do I owe this meeting?

The 2 walk a few more yards before Stan speaks up.

I met me today.

Michael had been looking out over the water, watching the waves whitecap out off the shore. His mind, having realized what Stan said, causes him to quickly turn & look at Stan, who has now stopped walking & begins drawing inanimate shapes in the sand with his toe.

Really? So...

Yeah...really.

A slightly uncomfortable silence hung on the air for a moment, then Stan started again.

I had...*sigh*...dipshit had just gotten back to the apartment after his stirring victory. Actually, he got skull-fucked with chair by that colorless ass-lode Dante. I swear I'm gonna end that prick's life & enjoy doing it one of these days. Pompous chode.

Michael raises his eyebrows at the venom that Stan just unloaded.

You might wanna talk to someone about your anger.

Anyway...dickhead had just gotten back to his apartment & low & behold, guess who's in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge like he's Mr. I-just-made-this-fridge-myself-so-I'll-go-through-any-damn-one-of-these-bitches-that-my-name-graces-whenever-I-please Kenmore! Fuck him too. GE is much better.

Seriously man...I know a few good shrinks.

Stan cuts his eyes over to Michael who quickly quiets down.

Anyway...guess who it is? Don't bother...it's ME!

Both men stand in silence at the comment. Michael looks down at the sand & sees that Stan has drawn a perfect picture of Angelina Jolie taking from behind by a minotaur. He shakes his head as a wave washes away the drawing.

Ok Stan...what did you do?

Stan looks over at Michael with an incredulous "how stupid of a question is that" look on his face.

What did I do? What could I do? Ass-hat was still in control! And for some UNGODLY reason...*Stan looks up at the sky & gives it the finger.*...I couldn't take over. I...COULDN'T...TAKE...OVER!

Wow...huh.

Yeah...wow, huh. Real insightful MIKE! Anyway, I tried everything. Everything. Horrible memories, amplified emotions, nauseating environmental & plane shifts, but nothing worked. Nothing. I was trapped on the wrong side of a glass house I so desperatly wanted to be in.

So what happened? What did you see? What did you hear?

Stan sucks in a deep breath & exhales like a man finding out that his lifelong dream was just that...a dream with no intention of or factual basis for happening.

I left.

Michaels eyes widen in amazement.

You left? You gave up? You gave up your one shot of being in the only chance of a host that you have for a permanent grip on that reality?

Stan rolls his eyes.

No...I left the light on. I'm still coming back. I just set-up the DVR for record & I'll watch the replay when I figure out how I can get in there while I'm still there talking to Cameron...or while he's still there talking to Cameron. Damn this is confusing.

Michael nods, dissappointed in the response.

So, you're still inhabiting Cameron? Not giving up until he's dead & you no longer have a chance to get into this new realm?

Stan nods & sits down on the sand.

Yep. Pretty much. I'm bored Michael. You...You're the big Patron Saint of Warriors. The Prince of Light. Me...I'm satan. And I've pretty much wrecked that realm. Short of total anhillation, I've done pretty much everything I wanted to over there.*Stan points his thumb over his shoulder.* You and your buds get to clean it up & keep it from falling apart. I need a new challenge. A new & clean Etch-a-Sketch to draw on, if you will.

Michael shakes his head.

It won't be easy & you won't succeed even if you do get over there full-time. First off, there's another you already in place, plusthere are some serious heavy-hitters over there on the Lord's side. You really won't stand a chance.

Stan looks up at Michael, who is now hovering a few inches over the sand.

Whatever. I've never backed down from a challenge, plus I've always wondered what would happen if I could get over there or to any of the other realms & what exactly would happen if I did. And what I'd be like...well, the me over there. We could team up. We'd absolutely wreak some havoc. But I digress. Ultimately, I'm bored. And I want...need a new environment.

Well, I obviously don't have to tell you to becareful what you wish for. You just might get it.
--------------------------------

...just who the fuck you are?

Obviously, there are several different answers that can be given to this question. You have the defiant "who the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you?", but he already gave you his name. Then there is the badass "you got into my apartment without a key, so you obviously know my name", but the security here sucks, as well as the $1.99 excuse for a deadbolt lock. And most obviously there is the always disrespectful & more popular than it should be response "none of your fucking business". But our hero chooses not to go with any of those responses. Instead he uses the tested, tried & true reply...

Cameron Jones.

Lucifer lowers his shoulders as though he was expecting a verbal barb to come back at him as opposed to the "I just pissed myself reply that he got."

Seriously...this is how it's gonna go?

Lucifer closes the refrigerator door & straightens his tie as he takes a step toward PD.

You walk in to your apartment to find a man with black flames for eyes, who happens to call himself Lucifer & all you can do is tell him your birth name? No attack? No...trying to escape? Nothing...Just your fucking birth name.

Cameron stands frozen still, but the more the conversation takes place, the more he finds himself feeling at ease for some odd reason.

You were going through my fridge.

Lucifer looks over his shoulder at the fridge & then back at PD.

Yeah...so?

PD shrugs.

Well, I guess I figured that if you really were Lucifer or you really wanted to hurt me...you wouldn't be looking for an afternoon snack.

Lucifer lowers his head, slowly shaking it side to side.

I mean, shouldn't there be smoke...brimstone scent...demon dogs...not the ones from the minor baseball team that they serve at their stadium, but like...rots & pitbulls that are 500 lbs and vicious, bloody fangs, red eyes, spiked collars...

ENOUGH!

Lucifer reaches for Cameron's throat but stops his hand 2 feet short of it's target. Cameron is lifted up into the air feeling a sudden choking & gripping sensation around his throat. As the grip grows tighter, Cameron's vision blurs & he passes out.

You seem to know things...seem to do things that you shouldn't be able to. I'm going to find out why.

As Lucifer starts to step forward Cameron falls to the ground.

What the fuck?

Lucifer takes a step forward & bumps into an unseen barrier. He looks at Cameron & sees his body began to levitate, but not so much like floating on air as much as it being lifted by an invisible helper.

Ah, ah, ahhhhhh. No you don't...

Lucifer leans back & lets out a tortured and primal scream that seems to originate from the origins of the universe itself.
--------------------------------------

Across the apartment complex, Darkness, Gwen & Gawain simultaneously look over toward the building where PD's room is. As their eyes fix on one of the windows. Gwen speaks.

That came from your opponents room.

Just then, a huge flash & concussive explosion shatter out all the windows in the building, blowing Gwen & Gawain back into the wall of Darkness's room. Darkness remains standing, trickles of blood starting to form on his face, chest & arms, where the shards of glass from the window struck him. Steadying his gaze, Darkness sees across the small grass covered courtyard where his eyes lock with Lucifers. As Darkness blinks, Lucifer disappears.

Finally...something worth my time & interest.
--------------------------------------

Cameron slowly opens his eyes. He feels the soreness in his throat. His head still rings from the chair shot Dante delivered to him, but it feels more like the chair struck him in the throat as well. He feels a cool washcloth run over his forehead & his eyes flash open as he tries to sit up. A blurry vision in front of him attempts to shush him & strong but delicate hands push him back down onto the soft bedding he rests upon.

It's ok. You're safe now.

Still attempting to focus, he stops struggling, realizing that he recognizes feminie voice.

Where...where...what happend?

Shhhhhhhh. I got you away from him. You're safe here. He can't find you right now, but we can't stay for very long as my cloaking spell casting is still a little rudimentary. You need to heal up. They'll be after you again.

They?

Yes. Darkness...and Lucifer.

Cameron's eyes have fully adjusted now & he stares at the woman kneeling next to the couch administering the cold wash cloth. His eyes widen in disbelief as he looks into the dark eyes of the Hispanic/Hatian mixed young female. He raises his cupped hand up to her face as she leans into rest on it.

Where are we...Maria.

She smiles at him & leans in, kissing him full on the mouth. She slowly pulls back, eyes wet with tears of happiness and relief.

We're back where it all began. I brought you back to Miami.

"How did I get here?" PD asked. His voice sounded very distant.

"You're not here," Maria said, "not really."

"What?"

"This is a dream. Or, if you like, a shared hallucination. None of this is real – except me."

PD shook his head and tried to stand up, but found the room swaying around him as he moved.

"Relax. Like I said, this isn't real. Your body is thousands of miles from here."

"What the hell is going on?"

"I'm protecting you."

"From what?"

"From him. He damaged your body, and he would have hurt your mind too if I didn't drag you out in time."

"Out?"

She smiled. "It would take too long to explain. We'll stick with the cloaking spell explanation."

"How did you do this?"

Maria placed a warm hand against his cheek. "There are things about me – and things about yourself – that you still don't understand."

"You're not making any sense," he growled, unable to contain his frustrations.

"Cameron, you and I share a special bond."

"What kind of bond?"

"One that transcends this very reality."

"You're still not making any sense…"

Maria smiled again, and this time he could see that she was trying to reassure him, and that she knew it wasn't working. It was like a parent telling their child that everything would be all right, while knowing perfectly well that it wouldn’t be. "Cameron, you and I, we're the same."

"How so?"

"We're both refugees, adrift in space and time."

* * *

Darkness turned over fitfully in bed. The sight of one of his most powerful enemies in the same building of course had concerned him – but he was more interested in why he was in PD's room. Could it possibly be a coincidence? He didn't believe in coincidence any more, not after everything that had happened in the last five years. His life, someone had once told him, was like a story: events seemed to follow patterns that went deeper than reality.

"Darkness?"

He sat up in bed quickly, shifting the sheets to avoid getting tangled up in them. Modesty be damned: there were more important things that being embarrassed. It took him a few seconds to place the familiar voice. "Jael?"

A deeper shadow moved near the foot of his bed and Darkness caught a shifting glimmer of the inner luminescence in the Seraph's black eyes.

"It's been a while," Darkness said when Jael didn't reply, "I thought you were searching for other survivors of the massacre."

"I was. But I heard your cry."

"My what?"

Darkness could sense Jael's momentary confusion. "Your psychic scream…I felt it from across the planet…I thought that…"

"No, that wasn't me. It was Lucifer."

Now the tension was palpable. As much as Darkness despised the Morningstar, Jael had watched most of his race die at his hands. Those dark eyes, blazing with the distant light of a million galaxies, had watched the Host of Heaven slaughtered because of Lucifer's betrayal. "He was here?" the Angel asked simply, his resonant voice wavering only the barest fraction.

"Not here. But close by. I don't know why. He wasn't here for me."

"Then why was he here?"

"I have no idea, but I think it may be connected with one of my colleagues."

"Who?"

"I don't think you know him."

"I know the names of all Men."

"Cameron Jones?"

Again, Darkness could feel the brief wave of confusion. "I do not know that name…at least, not in the context of anyone you could know."

"Strange."

"Very." Darkness finally leaned across and flicked on the bedside light. Jael looked much as he remembered him, only more weary. His rich, walnut skin seemed to have faded to something less lustrous and altogether more human. His gleaming black hair was now tied back into a loose tail, and he wore shabby clothes. It was a far cry from the noble, if bloodied, warrior Darkness had first encountered almost two years ago.

"So did you have any luck in your search?"

Jael shook his head. "I found no evidence that any of my brethren fell to Earth. And I searched long, Darkness. I have walked many roads for many centuries. Time does not pass for me as it does for you."

"I'm sorry."

"There was something though…"

"Oh?"

"Something very strange."

"What?"

Jael looked up at him finally, fixing him with his starlit gaze. "I do not know what you would call it – a vision? A dream?"

"Is that unusual?"

"For an Angel it is. We see both our pasts and our futures with waking eyes."

Darkness rested his arms across his knees. He was conscious of his missing hand, but dismissed his embarrassment again. No Man could hold any secrets from Jael, who had watched dispassionately the fall of empires and the deaths of worlds. "So what was it you saw?"

"Michael."

"That doesn't sound so strange…he was your mentor, your leader, and you saw him killed. That would leave anyone with a lasting impression."

"No. It was Michael and it was not Michael. It was him; I know it was. But he did not look like him."

Darkness fumbled for an explanation. "Was he…in disguise? I mean…"

"No. It was Michael, but it was not my Michael."

"What do you mean?"

Jael sat down at the foot of the bed and placed his chin upon his hands. It was a very human affectation, and it seemed strange to see the Angel doing it. He turned slightly so he could look at Darkness again. "The man I saw was Michael in every way that I could sense, except with my eyes. I know it was him, even though he clearly was not."

"Did you speak to him?"

"No. It was in a crowd. I saw him for a split second, and he was gone."

"You only saw him for a second? Are you sure it was him then?"

"Darkness, for an Angel, a second is almost an eternity. It was him."

"And he didn't recognise you?"

"No." Jael slumped down again.

"Then surely it couldn't have been Michael. You and he were…close…yes?"

"Yes."

"And, if he is alive or…or…reincarnated in some way…then he'd have no way to know you survived the massacre. If he saw you, I think he'd want to speak to you wouldn't he?"

"I hope so."

"But he didn't. So, it stands to reason that it wasn't him."

"Your human logic is infallible," Jael said softly, "but I know it was Michael."

* * *

"Refugees? What does that mean?"

Maria stood up and walked across her living room. The details were hazy to PD's eyes, and he realised that only the parts of it he could remember were filled in. The smells and the textures were strong, but details like the pictures on the walls and the colour of the couch were filled in with placeholders. It was like a child's drawing of the room he had once been in. He finally managed to sit up on the almost-couch.

"Do you know anything about alternate universes?"

"Excuse me?"

She turned, the only solid thing in the room, and the movement caused the fizzy shapes of everything else to temporarily go into a tailspin. "Alternate universes. Parallel realities."

"I…uh…I mean, I know of them…conceptually…you know."

"You're aware of the possibility of there being other universes?"

"I guess, yeah."

"Cameron, would it shock you to learn that you and I are from another quantum universe that intersects this one in a highly unusual way?"

"Right now, nothing would shock me."

"Have you noticed things in your life becoming more strange as time has gone on?"

"Well yeah, actually. My whole fucking family got killed, and I got swept up into something…something…yeah, strange. Strange is the word for my life these days."

"Could you pinpoint a time when that started happening?"

PD scratched his head. "When I first met you?" he hazarded.

She smiled. "You're sweet, but I think it began before that. Tell me, in your childhood, did you know any demons?"

"Um. No. Not real ones."

"And now?"

"That's a more difficult question…"

"I know. For me too. I grew up in a world where demons and monsters were just stories. Now, if you know where to look, you see them every day. The things I thought were myths are true."

"Right. I met a man who claimed to be Lucifer today."

"I know. It is my belief that you and I come from a more mundane place and, at some point, we slipped through some kind of crack or fissure in reality and wound up here. Because we are the only refugees from that place, we were drawn together. That is why it was so easy for me to save you just now."

"Wow. That's…that's a lot to take in."

"I know. I'm sorry I had to tell you like this, but this is the only opportunity I've had to find you. I had to piggyback on Lucifer's powers – if that's who he truly is."

PD nodded. "I see. When will it be safe for me to go back to my body? I mean, not that I'm not enjoying this conversation or anything…"

"There is something else."

"Oh?"

"I don't think you came into this universe alone."

"What?"

"Maybe it was an accident that brought you – or us – here, but I know that something…somethings…are using you. Perhaps if they came here physically it would violate the laws of thermodynamics."

"Huh?"

"The universe – all universes, I suppose – are closed systems. You can't create energy or matter. If there is already something in a universe, another version of it can't simply appear from thin air. There's only one me, and there's only one you."

"So?"

"But we're just people. Gods have a larger presence. There's already a Satan and a Michael in this universe."

Something in PD froze, not for the first time that day. How much did Maria know? Part of him had already convinced himself that what had happened with…with Stan years ago…was not real, and never had been. It was just some kind of psychological hiccup – a split personality or something.

"I don't know what you mean," he croaked unconvincingly.

"The Satan and the Michael from our universe – or maybe from another one altogether, they could be serial hitchhikers or something – came through with you. Maybe it was an accident, like I said, or maybe they have some purpose in mind. But they need you, Cameron. They need your body, because they don’t have bodies of their own here. They can't exist while the Satan and Michael that are native to this universe are still around."

"And that was…that was the guy I just met? The native Satan?"

"I believe so. Bringing the two versions of that creature into contact was not a good idea."

PD placed a hand against his head as his shoulders slumped. "This is a lot to take in," he said again.

"I know. And I don't expect you to believe all of it. I'm not even sure of everything myself. I've spent years trying to piece it all together, trying to make sense of what happened to my life."

PD looked up at the beautiful woman who had somehow become such a vital part of his existence. "So, if we come from another universe, does that mean there's a place out there that's better than this? And that's missing us?"

"Maybe." She turned away and played with the indistinct objects on the mantelpiece. "I like to think that our home universe is less messed up than this one; that all the things that went wrong with us and with the world didn't happen. Your family and my husband are still alive…a young black Senator from Illinois won the election instead of that shithead MacDonald…and demons are still just stories to scare children."

"Right." He finally felt like he had the presence necessary to stand up. "So what am I supposed to do now? What are we supposed to do now? Try to get back home?"

"I don't know if we can. I don't even know if this is really true."

"So what am I supposed to do with all of this information?"

Maria shrugged. "Use it."

"To do what?"

"Survive. I don't know if this is a horrible accident or destiny, but if you meet this universe's Satan again, you may never find out."

PD placed a hand against the doorknob and started to turn it. "One thing though…what makes you so sure we're the ones in the wrong universe?"

"How do you mean?"

"I'm not the only one who thinks things are strange. There are others, even in TCW, who think demons belong in fairytales. How do you know we're the refugees and not all the weirdoes that ruined our lives?"

"I don't…this was just the simplest explanation…"

"Right." He started to open the door.

"Cameron, you have to stay away from them. You have to survive."

"I will," he lied.

He opened the door now, letting the blinding light flood the room. Everything dissolved into nothingness, even Maria, and he was in an emergency room, coughing up blood.

"It would be nice if someone explained to me what was going on here."

It was much later. Darkness was back in his apartment. Not long after the man in the dirty overcoat had bundled PD away from the rooftop battle, things had fallen apart. The fight was short and brutal, and offered little or no explanations.

"First, shall I slip into something more familiar?" Gabriel asked.

"Yes?"

Without actually changing, he became a small balding man wearing a duster and a wide-brimmed out. "That better, kid?"

"Ah, yes. Jeb, was it?"

Jeb gave Darkness a toothless smile. "I never thought Dante'd be able t' handle the 'real me'. Let's stick with this f'now, since a lot a' what I'm gonna be tellin' you is gonna be...uh...strange."

Darkness sat down on his bed. "Strange?"

"Yeah. Real strange."

"Let's bear in mind that I just saw a comic book character drag away one of my colleagues from a fight involving some variety of demon I've never even heard of before."

"Stranger'n that."

"Wow. You'd better start from the beginning."

"No, I think I'll start from the middle. First, them demons."

"Yes."

"Incubi."

"Those were not Incubi. Incubi are seven feet tall and have flesh made from obsidian. They have iron masks and flaming swords. They wouldn't attack me – I'm the only commander the Legio Incubi recognise now."

"And yet, they were Incubi. Just not your Incubi."

Darkness ran his good hand through his hair. "So whose were they?"

"Constantine's. Well, kinda. It's complicated."

"Obviously."

"Now we'll go back t' the beginnin'. First, an explanation, a' sorts: we had a lot a' irons in the fire, okay? A lot."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me an' Michael mostly. See, we knew this war was comin' years ago. The writin' was on the wall. And we were worried – especially Michael, because he knows how this stuff works. Michael's one a' them...uh...one a' them life-death-rebirth gods, right? It's his destiny to get killed."

"I see..."

"So we thought maybe we needed a back up."

"A...back up? A back up Michael?"

Jeb nodded. "Seemed like a good idea at the time, y'know?"

"No, I don't know, but please go on."

"Like I said, kid, a lot a' irons in the fire. Thing was, we had to make a deal. You ever meet Jean Baptiste?"

"No, but I have a friend who did."

"Right, right – y' Damphyr girl. That was another good idea a' ours. At least that one did some good. Anyway, so, we had t' make this deal, right? With Baptiste, 'cause he was the only one who could get us what we wanted. We needed another Michael, but we also had to bring another Lucifer with him."

Darkness massaged the bridge of his nose. "Excuse me?"

"Big picture, okay? Y' weren't there. Y' don't know. It seemed like a good idea. We were desperate. But we had to use a human bein', as is usual with these kinds of things."

"A human being?"

"A soul. A living soul. We went fishin' for some spares of our guys, an' we needed a Man to act as a conduit. A Worldwalker."

"I'm really hoping this is the condensed version of this story, because you're not making an awful lot of sense."

"I know, kid. Time is a factor here. We got our spare Lucifer an' our spare Michael, but this poor sap got dragged through too. The plan was t' just keep him away from the action an', when things went bad – if they went bad – we could make stuff right again. Simple, see?"

"Not simple at all."

Jeb nodded ruefully. "I know...I know. We never saw everythin' else comin', a' course. Never figured on Dante, or you, or Bleeder, or Odin, or any a' the other three dozen or so guys who think they're in control a' this here situation. There were too many variables, an' when Lucifer killed Michael – our Lucifer killed our Michael, I mean – it really ruined everythin'."

"And the spares?"

"Y'know, the funny thing about spares is that they don't like bein' spares. As far as those guys are concerned, they're the real deal."

"What does any of this have to do with PD?"

"He's the poor sap."

"Oh. Tough break."

"Ain't it though? He never deserved to get mixed up in all a' this crap, an' now not only is he in the middle of it all, but he's also got the other versions a' Lucifer and Michael along f' the ride."

Darkness ran his good hand across his eyes. "This is...a lot to take in..."

"I know."

"Let me get this straight: a few years ago, before all this happened, you and Michael hatched a crazy plan to team up with a Satanic priest to summon another version of Michael from some kind of parallel universe. You achieved this by using Cameron Jones as some kind of portal or gateway, and also got an alternate Lucifer in the bargain. These were going to be some sort of emergency measure in the event that Michael was killed. But, you didn't count on PD getting involved with everything of his own accord..."

"We didn't count on the Antichrist bein' a wrestler too, f' one thing – let alone Lucifer's kid."

"Right. This is all my fault."

"Okay, okay. I already admitted we fucked up, didn't I?"

"This still doesn't explain the presence of John Constantine or the Incubi that aren't Incubi."

"No, it doesn't. See, PD didn't come from here. He came from another universe altogether."

"The same one as the other Lucifer and Michael?"

"Uh...maybe."

Darkness arched an eyebrow. "Maybe?"

"It's...complicated."

"Of course it is. So PD is from another universe too?"

"Yeah, like I said, we needed a conduit. But inadvertently we created a Worldwalker."

"And what is that exactly?"

"It's a kind a' singularity – a nexus between universes. The door we opened is still open. Stuff comes through."

"Like Constantine?"

"Yeah. Turns out our two universes are what y' might call...uh...mutually fictional."

"You mean I'm fictional in PD's universe?"

"Somethin' like that."

"What am I supposed to do with all this information?"

Jeb leaned back in the armchair he'd been sitting in. "PD knows some a' the truth now too. He wants t' get back home, 'cause he thinks his family are still alive there."

"Are they?"

Jeb shrugged. "Beats me. But he wants to figure out what's happenin', an' he'll be knockin' on your door before long. But the more he gets involved, the more anarchy is gonna be unleashed. These two realities are like oil and water - they don't mix too well."

"I noticed."

"But there's another player involved now – our Lucifer has become aware a' somethin' goin' on, an' he don't like it. He's huntin' for PD. We've kept him away so far, but there's only so much we can do."

"Don't tell me: you need my help."

"Got it in one, kid. Thing's have got out a' hand. PD wasn't the passive tool we wanted him to be."

"Yeah, that's what you get for using a human being, isn't it?"

"How many times are you gonna make me apologise for this?"

"Actually I don't think you've apologised once yet."

"Well I am sorry, all right? We had the best intentions. The universe is at stake. You know that, right?"

Darkness nodded. "Let’s boil this down to the important information. Lucifer wants PD. PD wants to find Lucifer, I'm betting."

"And I want to find Michael."

Jeb and Darkness looked up to see Jael standing in the doorway.

"He ain't your Michael, Jael," Jeb said, his tone laced with warning.

"I know. But he's the closest thing I have."

"We have to stay away from PD," Darkness told the Seraph, "and make sure Lucifer doesn't come after him."

"Right. 'Cause if PD keeps involvin' himself, or other forces make him get involved, it's gonna cause even more problems. Reality might start comin' apart at the seams."

"Will we be seeing any more fictional characters? Can I expect a visit from Tom Sawyer or Jean Luc Picard?"

"Anythin's possible..."

* * *

"So, John Constantine, is it?"

Constantine drew himself up. He gave the creature standing opposite him his trademark half-smirk and reached for a cigarette. "Want one?"

"I don't have lungs. And shouldn't you know better?"

"Don't you read the comic books in your universe? I made a deal, pal."

"Yes. Most amusing. The sad thing is, that sort of thing doesn't really work around here."

Constantine sparked up and blew out a smoke ring. "Oh really?"

"Ya really." Lucifer lifted a hand and Constantine's head exploded in a shower of crimson gore. The headless corpse collapsed to the floor.

"Filthy habit," he murmured as he waved away the smoke ring. "Now, where are you hiding, Cameron Jones?"

"Could you turn that thing off?"

Revenant shot a pained look at Darkness. She shook the DS at him. "Maybe I will when there's something else to do."

"You could look at the scenery."

Revenant peered out of the filth-caked windows of the grimy four-by-four vehicle Darkness had insisted upon hiring for their journey. They were climbing slowly up the Tibetan plateau, and the landscape was spectacular, if austere.

"I've seen better."

"Where? This is the most magnificent terrain in the world."

"It's not as nice as Oxfordshire," Llenlleawg chimed in from the back seat.

Darkness eyeballed him in the rear-view mirror. "You know, that's the first thing you've said during this trip."

The werewolf shrugged, but didn't offer anything else.

"And I thought getting you both out of the house would cheer you up," Darkness muttered as he shifted gears with considerable effort to cope with the incline, "shows what I know."

"Why are we going here anyway?" Revenant asked.

"To find PD."

"How do you know he's in Tibet?"

"Because I do."

Revenant waved her fingers. "Oooh, is it magic?"

"Not really. Remember that time I got kidnapped and tortured by Skaar and The Apocalypse?"

"Oh yeah. Fun times."

"Weren't they just? Well, I knew where to find them too. There are certain places in the world that act as magnets for supernatural events. People like us are drawn to them, because they represent folds and wrinkles in the fabric of reality."

"I remember you telling us all about that," Llenlleawg said, "then you went off alone even though Freya told you not to and that's why you got captured and nearly died."

"Yes. As you can see," Darkness said, nodding at his two companions, "I've learned my lesson this time."

Revenant finally turned off her DS. "But you said reality was weak in those places too, which is why gods and stuff used to appear there."

"Exactly. That's why ancient peoples built monuments to them there."

"Yeah, all right. Let's go back to PD though. He's…what was it? A Worldwalker?"

"Something like that."

"Which is nice. Only, doesn't him just being near guys like you and Lucifer and Jael cause problems? It makes stuff come through from other worlds, right?"

Darkness shrugged without taking his hands off the wheel. "It seems so."

"So we're going to a place where reality is already coming apart at the seams, to meet a guy who causes weird things to happen with reality when he's around you?"

"Yes…"

"Why are you the guy that's destined to save the world again?"

Darkness smirked at the road ahead. "Someone's got to do it."

* * *

PD's eyes opened slowly as he emerged from a gentle, dreamless sleep. Before, everything was in turmoil, but now he felt totally calm, even though he could sense the danger that had caused him to wake. He sat up on the soft grass and peered into the shadows. After a long moment, he made out a darker shape against the black of the tree line.

"I've been expecting you," he said.

"Well you did call me here." Stan stepped out into the clearing and dusted down his black suit.

"Funny story – I met a man the other day who said he was you."

"I don't know what you mean..."

"Yeah, of course you don't." PD stood up and waited for Stan to join him in the centre of the clearing. He eventually did so, moving with exaggerated care through the brush.

"Don't want to get your suit dirty?"

"It's Armani."

"What? You can't just magic it out of thin air?"

"Of course I can, but what would be the point of that?"

PD smirked. Stan frowned. Up close, PD could see the resemblance between the familiar face of Stan DeVille and the man in his kitchen who had claimed to be Lucifer, but they were demonstrably different creatures. Stan lacked the fiery savagery of the stranger, his snarling arrogance and contemptuous self-assurance. And now PD thought he knew why.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" Stan asked.

"Because I know you can't hurt me."

"Oh really?" Stan lifted up his hand.

"Yes. See, I know you need me."

Stan made a dismissive noise. "Need you? Please..."

"You can't exist here without me."

"Here? On top of this mountain?"

"No, here, in this world. This universe."

Stan's face hardened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. You're not from here, and neither am I. Now, I don't know why you're here – maybe it's an accident – but you're surplus to demands."

"You've gone insane. I knew it was only a matter of time."

"I'm more sane than I've ever been, Stan."

"Not hard."

PD folded his arms. "I could feel you trying to fight back when I met Lucifer you know. Took me a while to figure out what that raging in my head was, but I've had a few conversations since then that have thrown light on things. It must have really pissed you off seeing your alter-ego in the flesh like that."

"Alter-ego? He wishes..."

"He was a lot meaner than you. I wonder why that is? Maybe you come from a softer world, or maybe you're just not powerful enough to be a real prick here."

"Are you trying to make me angry?"

"No, I actually want your help."

Stan lifted an eyebrow. "Do you now? Why would I want to help you?"

"Because you need me, remember? You're nothing without me. I'm your gateway into this universe. And, if I've guessed correctly, you have a vested interest in staying here. Maybe you're running from something, or maybe you have designs on this world – I don't know, and I don't care to be honest – either way, I'm your meal ticket. So you'd better do what I say."

"You amuse me, Cameron. I'll humour you: what is it you want?"

"To go home. To see my family."

"Your family's dead."

"Only here."

Stan laughed uproariously. "How naïve you are... Do you really think this is as simple as that? That you can just step back into your old life?"

"At least you admit that what I've been saying is true..."

Stan became serious again. "All right. Yes, it's true. We're not from here, you and I."

"Then send me back."

"Even if I could, it's not the magic bullet you think it is."

"Yes, but..."

"And, if I need you to survive here, what possible advantage would there be to sending you back?"

PD gave Stan a sly grin. "Do you think I'm bribing you or something? This isn't a negotiation. You send me back, or this ends. Tonight."

"Ends?"

PD flicked something out of his belt. It shone in the moonlight for a second. "Razor blade. Every wrestler's best friend."

"You'd kill yourself to beat me?"

"I dunno. Do you really want to risk it though?"

Stan took a step back. "You play your hand too soon, Cameron. Perhaps I don't need you as much as you think I do."

"Then what are you doing here? You came when I called, Fido."

There was a rustling noise from the other side of the clearing. Cameron turned around and Stan made a lunge for him. He grabbed him by the arm and tried to wrestle him to the ground, but PD shifted his weight and flipped him over onto his back. Stan scrambled up to his feet, his shirt and tie in disarray, but now something else caught both men's attention. A third shape detached itself from the forest's shadows and entered the clearing.

"So nice of you to separate into two people for this," Lucifer said, his voice dripping with cold amusement, "it will make it so much easier to destroy you both."

"You again?" Stan growled.

"Me again?" Lucifer wasn't in his suit any more – now he wore armour, the blackened brass plates hammered into sinuous draconic shapes.

"I don't even know who you are."

"I'm Lucifer."

"No, I'm Lucifer."

"Isn't it embarrassing when you come to a party with the same identity as someone else?"

"Did you bring this asshole here?" Stan asked PD, shooting him an accusatory look.

"He had nothing to do with this," Lucifer said, drawing a black sword and pointing it at Stan.

"A sword? Seriously?"

"We do things differently here."

"If I knew you lived in the dark ages in this universe, I wouldn't have bothered with any of this."

"Don't you think mêlée weapons have a certain charm?"

"Not really. In fact, I find hand to hand combat rather distasteful."

"Why did you possess a wrestler then?"

Stan shook his head and then threw himself towards Lucifer. PD stared as the two creatures fell to ground, flailing at one another. He didn't know if he should step in and, if he did, whom he should help.

* * *

Darkness crept through the undergrowth with Revenant and Llenlleawg in tow. He could hear and, more importantly, feel the fight taking place ahead of him. There was something else too. Through the trees, he could make out a soft, bluish glow. Whatever it was, it was between him and his destination.

"Wait here," he whispered to the two Neophytes.

He moved forward softly again, until he the light source resolved itself into a human shape. He tried to silence everything, even his breathing, but he knew he had been detected. The blue man turned, a shocked expression on his face, and then the light disappeared, as if someone had switched it off. Now the man wasn't blue, but walnut-brown, with eyes like shining stars.

"Jael?"

The Angel stared at Darkness for a second, then turned back.

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting..."

Darkness stepped up beside him. Through the trees, he could make out the struggle in the clearing. "For what?"

"Michael."

"Ring?"

"Don't you remember? Was I really that unimportant?"

"There's a lot about that time I choose to forget."

PD shook his head. "You were so pissed off back then – you hunted me down across Florida just to kick my ass. What happened to you?"

"A lot of things."

PD shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, taken aback by Darkness's unwillingness to attack. "So where is it?"

"Your friend made it crumble into dust."

"Are you being metaphorical?"

"Not at all. I assume it was S-Mart technology. But you'd know about that stuff better than me…"

PD's jaw hardened, but now Darkness had set the tone for the encounter, he had no intention of rising to the bait either. "You don't have a damn clue. Not one damn clue."

"You're a dangerous man, Jones."

"So what are you going to do about it? Kill me?"

"No, quite the opposite. I want to keep you safe."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. Safe from yourself and the damage you can do. The more time you spend around people like me and creatures like the ones back in that clearing, the more you put us all at risk."

PD shook his head. "Maybe you're too hardened to all this shit to rise to comments about your daughter, but me: I care about my family."

"Your family's dead, just like mine."

"Only in this world."

"That's madness."

"Says the guy with the sword and the face paint."

Darkness held up his hands. "No sword here. I'd like that back, by the way."

"I wasn't just trying to make you angry by talking about her, Darkness – I was trying to remind you that some of us care enough to shatter reality to find their loved ones. When Shadow told me all about you, I couldn't understand why you were wasting time with this wrestling shit when your daughter was out there or, if she was dead, while those who killed her hadn't been brought to justice."

"We can't always give in to our base desires."

"Base? You think it's base to love your child?"

"That's not what I said."

"The second I knew there was a possibility of being with my family again, I did everything in my power to make it happen. I'd sell you and everyone else in this shitty universe down the river for one night with my wife, for one day with my son."

"And that's the difference between me and you, Cameron," Darkness said, "I have a higher calling."

"Higher than love?"

"Higher than anything. Though it may cost my life and the life of everyone I hold dear, I will save this world. I may bring about the deaths a million people today, but if it ensures that just one child sees a sunrise tomorrow, I will judge that price fair."

"You're a monster."

"Yes, but I'm all we have."

* * *

Jael stepped into the clearing and looked around at the space where four people had just been fighting.

"Where did they go?"

"I was about to ask you the same question."

He looked up and saw a man that was both unfamiliar and utterly familiar at the same time. He had short blonde hair and only in the respect that he was wearing white did he in any way resemble the Archangel that had died on the Bridge of Phlygeas.

Nonetheless.

"Michael…"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"I'm Jael."

"Who?"

Michael was frowning, and Jael's heart began to sink in his chest, but he knew how he could create a spark of recognition. He walked up to Michael and kissed him.

"Whoa…whoa…" Michael pulled away, "what are you doing?"

"You still don’t remember me?"

"No, I think I'd remember kissing a dude. Hey, no offence, man, but you just aren't my type."

"You said our love would transcend universes."

"I did? When?"

"Long ago."

Michael scratched his head. "Look, I just came here to find Stan. It sounded like he was having problems."

"You mean the other Lucifer?"

"Oh, that explains what's going on."

"You don't know?"

"Obviously not."

Two figures came jogging out of the trees and stopped short at the sight of the two Angels. "Who's this guy?" Revenant asked, pointing at Michael.

"Michael."

"No it's not – I saw his body on that bridge. He looks nothing like him."

"Nonetheless…"

Revenant shook her head insistently. "No. You're confused. He's the Michael from the other universe."

"There's only one Michael," Jael growled.

"But two Lucifers?" Llenlleawg asked.

"They're the same. Just from different places."

"I'm sorry, can we go back a second," Michael interrupted, "who are these guys?"

"They're Shadow Slayers."

"Like from the TV show?"

"What?"

Revenant waved her hands. "Can't you see what's going on here? Our two worlds were never supposed to meet. This is causing all kinds of stupid chaos. Michael isn't your Michael."

Jael fixed his gaze upon the other Angel. "But he's the closest thing I have."

Michael stepped away, looking uncomfortable. "Thanks… What happened to Cameron anyway?"

"He disappeared, along with Darkness and the two Lucifers." Revenant gave Jael and angry look, "and it's all your fault, isn't it?"

"Excuse me?"

"I heard what Darkness said to you. He may think it's fine, but I don't. You engineered this whole thing, didn't you?"

"How could I?"

Revenant narrowed her eyes. "I don't know, but I'm going to figure it out."

* * *

Lucifer and Stan continued to circle one another on top of the mountain. The snow fall had become a blizzard now, but neither demon paid it any attention.

"It's a shame," Stan said, "we could have been such close friends."

"I don't think so. I was always the jealous type."

"Funny – me too. Tell me, how did you Fall?"

"The same way you did."

Stan smirked. "No, I want details. C'mon, we're from different universes. I want to compare notes about how you pissed off Dad."

"I don't remember."

"How can you not remember?"

"No Angel remembers their true origins. Our existence is filtered through the consciousness of mankind."

Stan frowned. "You've lost me…"

"Are things simpler in your world then?"

"Apparently so. In my world, it's just me and Michael."

"How strange. I killed him in my world."

"How?"

"I stabbed him in the back – literally. See, my sword does have its uses."

"Wow. You're even more evil than I am." Stan sounded genuinely impressed.

"You have no idea. I've set that moron Jael up too."

"Who's that?"

"The blue guy who was watching us from the bushes."

"I thought that was Krishna?"

Lucifer smiled, showing his pointed canines. "It was. I guess things really are simpler in your world."

"So how did you set him up?"

"Who do you think led me to you and Jones? He sold you out to get to your precious Michael."

"Why?"

"Love, I suppose. Don't ask me. Now, are we going to do this or just stand around talking all night?"

Jael curled his lips into a smile that was half pity and half contempt. "How could you hope to understand me, child?"

Revenant cocked an eyebrow. "You know, I always thought you were an asshole..."

"The opinion of a single human is of little consequence to me."

"I'm only half human."

"The opinion of a vampire is worth even less."

Revenant rolled her eyes. "So what was your master plan? Get everyone together and hope it made enough noise to cause this other Michael to show himself?"

"That's a gross simplification, but yes. Essentially."

"And damn the consequences?"

Jael shook his head. "I told you you wouldn't understand."

"That you were thinking with your dick?"

The Angel drew himself up. "You do me a disservice, child. I did what I did for love. Love of the Angel of Light – my captain, my mentor, my heart."

"Uh...thanks..." Michael murmured quietly in the background.

"So was it worth it?"

Jael shot a look at Michael, but didn't say anything.

"Look," Michael held up his hands, "you all seem like nice people...well...anyway, this has been fun or whatever, but I really just came here because it sounded like Stan was in trouble."

"Looks like your plan did work then," Revenant observed.

"Of course."

"Except...he came here to bail out Stan. Didn't you?"

Michael looked at Revenant. "Well...not exactly. I mean, I wouldn't want him to get hurt or anything."

Jael stared at him. "Wouldn't want him to get hurt?"

"No, of course not. He's my brother, after all."

"But..."

"See," Revenant said, a ghost of triumph playing on her lips, "he's not your Michael – he doesn't hate his Lucifer. They're a fucking double act!"

"Hey, it's a bit more complicated than that..." Michael's tone was defensive.

"You're supposed to be enemies," Jael insisted.

"Says who?"

"Your Michael died on that bridge," Revenant continued, "stabbed in the back by his own brother. And that sucks, don't get me wrong. I know it broke your heart, but this is a totally different person...angel...entity...whatever. He's from a different universe. He doesn't know who you are, and he doesn't understand anything that we're going through."

"But I know they share a connection..."

"Sure. I bet our universes are pretty similar. All the continents in the same place, probably a lot of the same people, history books filled with the same names, but there are differences where people like us are concerned – if what Darkness told me is true, their universe isn't populated by gods and demons like ours is. They just have a few, I guess. Things work differently there. You can't expect this Michael to be anything like your Michael."

Jael bowed his head. "You're right," he said softly, "Michael really is gone."

"I'm sorry..."

"You should be. This is the end of all things."

Revenant stepped towards him. "It doesn't have to be."

"Yes it does." Jael whirled around, his eyes blazing, stars transformed to burning novae. "It is time for you to see what happens when an Angel loses his reason for being." With a blinding flash, a long curved blade appeared in his hand.

"Oh you wanna go?" With a sharp metallic ring, Revenant's fists were enclosed in her twin crescent blades.

"Foolish girl," Jael thundered, "your weapons cannot harm me." He swept his free hand upwards and Revenant was propelled backwards across the clearing.

"Hey!" Llenlleawg stepped forward, his spear-stave whirling into position.

"Will you stand against me, Son of Lycaon?"

"Looks like it, yeah."

"What times are these, when a werewolf and a vampire stand beside Azrael in the final battle? How have we fallen so far?"

"Interesting question coming from you."

"The girl I will destroy later – slowly – but you will be obliterated like the insect you are."

"Rev was right – you are an asshole."

Jael swung his sword in a wide arc and let out a bellow of rage, but then stopped transfixed as his warcry died on his lips. His eyes rolled in desperation, seeking the source of his paralysis.

"I may not be your Michael," Michael said, "but I still have my uses."

Llenlleawg swallowed hard. "What did you do to him?"

"Just froze him in place," Michael told the werewolf as he stepped around the motionless Jael. "I can't do much to him – he's pretty powerful."

"Yeah. Should we just leave?"

"I have a better idea." Michael snapped his fingers, and Jael vanished.

Revenant sat up, holding her head. "Did you kill him?"

"No, I just sent him a long way away from here."

"Where?" Llenlleawg asked.

"Somewhere he can't return from in a hurry. It was the best I could do."

"Well...thanks..." Revenant said as she picked herself up.

"No problem. So...can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?"

* * *

PD launched himself at Darkness. There seemed to be no ground in the shadow world they occupied, but Darkness was certainly thrown into something that occupied the downward direction. PD lifted his fist and then brought it down hard into Darkness's face.

"I've been waiting for this for a long time," he said, punctuated by blows.

Darkness's lifted his prosthetic hand and clamped it around PD's wrist. "Glad I'm not a disappointment."

"What happened to your hand anyway?"

"I lost it."

"Clumsy of you."

"You have no idea." Darkness brought his foot up and folded his leg against PD's stomach. With a grunt he kicked out, flipping PD over onto his back behind him. Darkness jumped up and pounced on the other man, laying in his own punches now.

"I thought...you...were above all...this?" PD gasped as he blocked a right hand.

"This is just self defence."

"Well...I'd better make it worth...your while then." PD jabbed a thumb in Darkness's eye and then hit him as hard as he could across the jaw. Darkness was sent staggering sideways and PD picked himself up. Darkness shook his head, but PD was on him again too fast for him to recover. He elbowed him in the nose and felt a satisfying crunch.

Darkness staggered back again, holding his face. Blood dribbled through the gaps in his fingers.

"I remember you being a lot tougher."

Darkness pinched the bridge of his nose and, with a wince, cracked it back into place. PD cringed. "Not the first time that's happened."

"And here I thought you were invulnerable."

"I'm only human," Darkness growled.

"Not for much longer."

"Is that your plan? To kill me?"

"Right now I don't know what my plan is."

"Killing me won't achieve anything."

"I beg to differ. Seems you're a pretty important guy when it comes to this supernatural bullshit – it all revolves around you, right? - killing you would be on heckuva notch on my belt. Might get someone's attention."

"I don't doubt that."

"There we go then. I think of you as a bargaining chip. 'I'm the dude who killed Darkness – gimme what I want.'"

"There's only one problem with that..."

"What's that?"

Darkness spun around on his heel and caught PD in the side of the head with a thunderous roundhouse. The force of the blow knocked him right from his feet, and he saw stars for a good few seconds.

"You don't have what it takes to make it reality," Darkness whispered in PD's ear as he climbed onto his back and wrapped a forearm around his throat.

* * *

Lucifer kneed Stan in the head, then pushed him away. He could barely see out of his right eye, but Stan was in worse shape.

"Give up!" he bellowed, his voice thick with the blood that was bubbling up in his throat.

"Never!" Stan screamed back. His suit was torn and covered in blood. The snow around him was more crimson than white now. His slicked back hair was in disarray. Lucifer's armour had given him a considerable advantage in the fight, but Stan fought with an all-too-familiar primal fury.

"This can't go on! You're going to lose!"

"I'm not dead yet!"

"We'll see about that..." Lucifer leapt up into the air, his body propelled by an infernal wind, his fist cocked and wreathed in flame as he plummeted to earth. At the last instant, Stan threw himself clear and Lucifer smashed straight into a rocky protuberance that thrust out from the snow. He felt the crunch of bones as his hand met immovable stone and let our a blood-curdling roar of pain.

Stan moved quickly, coming up behind Lucifer and driving a knee into his back. Metal buckled with the impact and Stan reached over, digging his fingers into the roof of Lucifer's mouth and wrenching his head backwards. Lucifer elbowed Stan in the stomach and then spun around, driving an axe-handle into his gut. He winced at the pain in his hand, but pressed the attack, grabbing him around the throat with his good hand.

"Give up!" he roared again.

"No!" Stan rasped through the choke.

Lucifer tightened his grip and his eyes gleamed with black fire. "THEN DIE."

* * *

PD's eyes rolled up in his head. His vision was fogging over. Darkness's grip was strong, but he knew the pain he was feeling was inexplicable. It was like there were two men choking him at the same time. He let out a desperate gurgle and, with his last reserves of strength, pushed up with his back and threw Darkness off and away. The Shadow Slayer rolled up to his feet, and made to charge again, but PD still held his throat and gasped for air. Darkness cocked his head.

"Something wrong, old man?"

PD straightened with considerable effort. "Yeah..."

"Bad news for you then."

"I have to get out of here," PD mumbled as he turned away, trying to scatter the black spots that were forming in front of his eyes.

"That's it?"

PD rounded on Darkness. "No! This isn't it! We'll just have to pick this up another...another time..." he could barely see now.

"You can't beat me."

"I...have to..."

"It will do you no good."

"I...I have to find them...again."

"I can't let you do that."

"You...can't stop me..."

"I can. I will. Wherever you go and whatever you do, I'll be waiting for you: you're a danger to the universe it is my sacred duty to protect."

"Then...I guess...we have a problem..."

PD was staggering. His lungs felt like they were on fire. And now he thought he knew why. "Time to go home," he whispered.

The shadow began to fade. Darkness looked around as the mountaintop clearing came back into focus, complete with Llenlleawg and Revenant. He turned to them. "What's going on?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Revenant said. "Where's PD?"

Darkness turned, but his opponent was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Lucifer had Stan down on the ground, grinding him against the bloody snow. He could feel the pulse in the other Satan's neck only faintly now and his breathing came in ragged gasps. Stan's attempts to free himself from the choke had become increasingly feeble, and now he offered only token resistance, pawing at him with leaden limbs.

Lucifer chuckled, his laughter coming in a grotesque gurgle and then descending into a hacking cough that sprayed Stan with dark blood. "Getting the chance to destroy myself without the usual obvious consequence was most entertaining," he said in a faint rasp, "I might travel to some other universes and do it again."

"You're not going anywhere if I'm not." A large pair of hands grabbed Lucifer's shoulders from behind and hauled him to his feet. He let go of Stan, who rolled over into his stomach and buried his face in the snow. Lucifer goggled at PD, but didn't have time to ask questions as his head was snapped sideways by a brutal left hook. He stumbled sideways, dangerously close to the edge of the mountain.

"Where did you come from?" Lucifer gaped as he found his balance.

"Haven't we been through all that?" PD charged and pushed out with all his might, sending Lucifer flying off the side of the mountain, out into the blizzard. He disappeared from view with a keening scream as he pirouetted downwards into the grey expanse of snow clouds. PD watched until the sound faded then turned slowly. Since Lucifer had released Stan, he found he could breathe again, but his lungs still burned from the memory. He walked over to where Stan was still lying face down in the snow, knelt down and gently rolled him over.

"Cameron?"

"Yeah."

Stan peered out from between puffy eyelids. His face was covered in cuts and bruises. "You saved me..."

"No, I saved me actually. Saving you was just a side effect."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. I'm glad I did it anyway. I figured out that you and I are in this together."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah. You know less than I do and that son of a bitch just nearly killed you."

"He did have armour, in my defence."

"Sure. But whatever happens, we're both trapped in a universe that isn't our own, aren't we?"

Stan nodded. "Yes."

"I need to get back to my own universe. I'll take you with me if you want."

"Thanks. But how are you going to get back?"

PD shrugged. "I don't know yet. But I think Darkness holds the key."

"That idiot? Why him?"

"Because he's a big deal here. I don't know why yet, but I'm going to find out. And then I'm going to take his belts, his job, maybe even his life to get him to help me."

"Why?"

"Because I have to. He may be able to switch his heart off for the greater good, but not me. He said he was human – I don't think so. If he was human, he'd be able to understand me."

"He sounds like a grade-A asshole."

"He is." PD got to his feet with a grunt and then extended his hand to Stan. After a moment's hesitation, the demon took it and allowed PD to help him to his feet.

"Okay, Stan," PD said, "let's go home."