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There they sat, in the halo of light from the screen. Waiting.

Hollis wasn’t sure what Walt wanted him to do. Walt wasn’t saying anything, and he wasn’t projecting any feelings at all.

Hollis called his bluff and opened Google.

He typed: crossroads demon rules .

All of it was... just nonsense.

Book recommendations, top ten demon movies. Fan fiction. Christian conspiracy theories. Walt let him scroll for at least an hour, searching variations of demon removal , ghost exorcism , to similarly disappointing results.

Walt was fully awake now, but silent as the grave.

Hollis was starting to feel bad and get frustrated. He’d prepared for how to react if Walt had woken up furious, but he didn’t even have the grace to give Hollis that.

Slowly, Walt gave Hollis more control. He opened up access to his palm, wrist, and then all the way up to his elbow. Hollis felt a spike of anger. Why now?

Immediately Hollis used his new freedom for retribution. He grabbed himself around the throat and squeezed.

Walt let him.

Is this what you wanted?

Hollis pushed his palm down harder until his breath caught and his heart pounded in his head.

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? Hollis roared, helpless.

Then, WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS?

Walt just closed their eyes. He leaned into the pressure like it was an embrace.

Hollis didn’t expect that. “You’re my last ride.” Walt had said a few weeks ago. Without hesitation, like he knew. Like he was going to make sure of it.

Hollis let go.

Afraid of Walt. Afraid to die.

If he could breathe on his own, he would be panting; if he wasn’t so angry, he would be sobbing.

Walt gently took back control of Hollis’s hand. Slow, like a poison in the veins. He rubbed Hollis’s throat and took deep calm breaths until nothing hurt. Then he turned over and faced the wall.

Go to sleep, Hollis. Tomorrow is just another day.