A/N: Wow, eight pages. Nice. I can't believe I just sat here for like, four hours and typed up this whole chapter. Now I know all the songs on my cousin's Maroon 5 CD Songs About Jane by heart. I have finally finished this and I feel so good about myself! I love you all! You've all been wonderful and I hope you all stay wonderful!

Warning: It is full of BOY LOVE!

Disclaimer: I will own South Park and all thing related when Tom Cruise comes out of the closet.

Summary: This is the end… Oh my lovely friend, the end!

Remember:

"Blah" – Speech

Blah – Thoughts

Blah – Self Explanatory

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Chapter Twenty

Damien's body sprung awake instantly. It was not the shooting sting of fire licking across his entire being… it was merely the absence of Pip. That was all. He breathing was shallow and rapid. His eyes darted around the dim room for the blond, but all he found was empty space. A feeling of dread welled up in his gut and he leapt off the sofa, crying out as it felt like spikes exploded through his feet up to his legs, short circuiting his brain.

Instantaneously, the young man crumpled up, slamming against the floor like dead weight. He lie on the floor like a lump, helpless and quaking under the strain of so much pain. Taking big gulps of cold air helped him calm down… if only a little.

"Shit…" Damien screwed up his eyes and banged his fist on the ground. The feeling of nails being driven into his bone marrow didn't stop him from banging it a second time in frustration. There's only one place Pip can be…!

The sound of the front doors opened, thudding against the frames and sweeping chilled air into the mansion. Damien looked up, catching the blonde's stature in between the sliver of the open pallor entrance as he dropped his coat to the floor and sprinted into the main seating area. Pip stumbled to a halt, noticing Damien on the floor.

"Damien…" he breathed out the triumphant aura about him dying off to worry and remorse. The Son of Del's brow's slanted; sweat breaking over his forehead at the simple ache the action caused his muscles. He saw the tiny scrapes all over Pip's body and the way his hair was mussed… the unkempt manner his clothes were in.

"You…?" he questioned. Pip looked down at his feet, plucking up a vial from his jean pocket. It lay in his palm innocently enough, the crimson fluid sloshing back and forth as Pip padded toward the one on the floor. He knelt down by the fallen one, thrusting the vial to Damien.

"Drink it," Pip said. Damien growled and moved to swipe the hand away from his face but the scurrying of sharp pricks in his arm made him bleat out a curse. The Brit stilled, letting Damien finish his angry panting. "Come on and drink it…"

"No!" he gasped out. The Anti-Christ was reduced to pushing against Pip feebly as he was lifted into the slim lap, cradled almost like a child. With every second the pain grew way too intense to even blink. His hand clenched, creating crescent cuts in his palm.

"You'll drink it," Pip demanded lightly. He uncorked the top of the glass and tilted Damien's head upwards. The raven was struggling lightly as the cool, smooth surface brushed against his mouth. "I didn't go through all this trouble to see you die, Damien."

Guiltily, the teen relaxed, opening his mouth as Pip tipped the vial. The red liquid surged down, filling up Damien's mouth with a coppery taste. At the rush of it he nearly choked, feeling his mind become hazy almost immediately as he soon seemed inebriated.

It burned going down and the Anti-Christ felt his throat working on automatic, chugging the strange antidote. Pip's freezing hand laid over his lips so he wouldn't cough it back up, thumb brushing against his right cheek. The sensation let Damien tumble through the rabbit hole… and he was lost to the dark recesses of his own mind…

Time would eventually ellipse over itself and Damien would not remember his fevered dreams or blissful nightmares. Absently he would wonder if he had died and was waiting to be reborn again. In the darkness, the Anti-Christ would grow much stronger. Thus, he knew he would have to wait.

When he did awaken, it seemed that time had not stopped still, nor had it sped up. His lids wrinkled with the effort of keeping out the beams of light that fell across his face. Damien turned his head eyes cracking open in difficulty; first noticing Pip was lying on his bed, breathing evenly in his sleep. The second thing he noted was the lack of pain.

Damien pushed himself up by the elbows; looking down at his feet and saw he was in a bed. His bed from the looks of the deep, dark indigo shimmer bedspread. The curtains were drawn, but the breeze from the open window fluttered them apart making a yellow streak over the divan. Pip's hair glinted lightly, that halo catching. Damien withdrew a little as the slighter one yawned, his eyes fluttering open, sleepily glancing around.

"You're finally awake…" Pip mumbled, letting himself curl up into a sitting position. Damien could feel a drowsiness creep over his mind at the action.

"Yeah," he said, deciding not to look at the boy after a minute. "How long was I asleep?"

"A complete week," the English youth replied. Damien's eyes bulged out for a second, but then he nodded already feeling the weight of being inactive for so long hit him. Heavy arms pulled back the covers promptly, swinging his feet over the bed frame. The action was rewarded by the tingling of blood rushing back to his legs.

"Be right back," the Anti-Christ grunted, dashing out the door and to the bathroom. Pip let out a relieved sigh and flopped back on the bed. A complete week worth of changing and bathing the raven who suffered a fever took its total the previous night. Pip didn't mean to fall sleep next to Damien, but somehow he was glad he woke up to see Damien's eyes finally open and conscious.

The blond was rubbing his eyes of sleeping sand, mentally thanking God for the small favor of Damien receiving the antidote in time. That whole week he wondered if he took too long rushing back to the mansion. Pip let himself breathe out all his tensions, still exhausted from so much worrying.

The click of the door handle had Pip glancing up a few minutes later. Damien entered the room, shutting the door behind him as silently as he could. It was almost like he if didn't make too much noise then it would all just be a horrible, terrible hallucination and both boys could wake up completely safe.

However they both knew this was real… So horribly, terribly real.

"We need to talk," Damien said coming forward to sit next to Pip on the bed. The English youth gulped knowing when 'We need to talk' is uttered; someone always leaves the room in tears.

"About…?" Pip provoked. Damien closed his eyes, letting out a sigh.

"About what happened with Cartman," he clarified. Pip felt his heart leap into his throat at the severity of the words. The Anti-Christ looked at him with pointed eyes, making the blond wonder what he was searching for. "Did you let him—"

"Does it matter?" Pip suddenly interrupted. Damien was taken aback momentarily at the anger in the tone. Of course, anger is usually responded to with even more anger.

"Of course it matters!" Damien snapped. The Brit stood up, biting his tongue to keep from lashing out further. I can't believe this… How can he be so shallow? He grabbed his coat on the floor and yanked it on, ignoring Damien's inquiries and the brine threatening to escape. "Wait, Pip! Dammit! Come back here!"

"Bite me, you—Ouch!" Pip cried out as Damien's hand wrapped firmly around his wrist and tugged him back, flinging him onto the bed. Catching his bearings, Pip gazed up, seeing those livid scarlet eyes. Sucking in a surprised breath, the teen backed up into the soft blankets; a sudden inkling of panic making him still.

"Don't you dare leave me again!" the words were hissed, the air growing so cold and the boys could see their own breath like they were in a dark fairytale. Damien's arms pinned Pip down to the bed, causing light bruises in the skin. "If you leave, you'll never come back! Cartman will--"

"Cartman will what?! Take me away!" Pip spat out. "Or take away my virginity?! Is that the only reason you're with me?! Just to be my first and throw me away—" Pip was cut off as a greed pair of lips smashed into his own. Pip's eyes were wide as Damien desperately slanted their mouths, probing with his wet muscle. Pip could feel himself giving in and he knew he had to fight it or be lost in the raven evermore.

"D-Damien! S-Stop it!" he shouted, wrenching his head back and rolling it to the side. The Anti-Christ nudged the little golden head over, reclaiming the lips quickly enough. Pushing and nipping, pleading for Pip to give in. The slighter one wriggled, finally liberating his hands from under Damien's body and shoving him off. "Stop!"

"I CAN'T!" Damien screamed, hands twisting into his own dark hair, afraid to touch the boy in front of him resulting in even more bruises to that insignificant body beneath him. Pip was speechless for the first time, straddled by the looming young man, who was bent over as if in agony once more. "Don't you get it?! Are you that blind?!"

"B-Blind?" Pip parroted. Damien let out a hollow laugh, doubling back. His eyes a cross between the normal onyx and fiery satanic red…

"God you must be," he bemoaned. His body fell forward, but his arms kept him from falling onto Pip, the hands splayed out on either side of the fair head. "You bring out these things inside me… These… awful things. Jealousy maybe? Possessiveness, definitely. Fury… rage! I panic if you're not in the same room… God I'm a complete wreck--how can you not see?!"

"I-I don't know…" he confessed. Damien sighed as the boy below him raised a shaky hand, laying it flat over his chest. The tiny hand could feel the erratic heart of a demon. Damien felt that stir of guilt and fortification speed it up further.

"I can't image you with anyone else…" Damien admitted. "I could care less if you have sex with anyone you want… I can't image you with anyone, so it's okay I guess… but it irks me… Especially if you're with me now…And just the thought of Cartman--" Damien let out a ragged lungful of air.

"It drives me crazy! I don't want anyone to touch you, ever," the Anti-Christ declared, making Pip's face heat up, "Even more so if you don't want them to touch you too… I… I told you I made a promise to myself… I won't let you be hurt anymore… and if you did go to Cartman… I broke that promise." Damien shaded his face from Pip's so he wouldn't see the look of total hurt.

"Do you really…" Pip bit his lip, his hand straying up to Damien's neck, and then up to his cheek, turning the raven's visage forward. "Do you really care about me that much?"

"Pip," Damien whispered, those conflicted eyes melting. "I could very well be in love with you…" The blond felt a small smile tug at his mouth. Looks like it's now or never…

"W-Well, actually, I know I'm in love with you," he confessed. Damien's eyes widened instantly, wondering if he heard right. No way in hell (HA!) was this beautiful boy in love with HIM, the Anti-Christ.

"No shit?" Damien questioned at last; shock showing on every pore on his face.

"For a long time," he said. "You never left me alone." Damien felt his heart do Olympic summersaults and cartwheels at the info. The Anti-Christ wanted to dive down and scoop up his prize but Pip's words stopped him, "And I didn't, just so you know."

"Huh?" Damien paused, hovering confused over the angel that he was just about to greedily devour. "You didn't what?"

"Have sex with Cartman," Pip explained. Damien blinked… and then he sat up.

"But then why did you get so angry?" he inquired. Pip rolled his eyes and scooted out from under the larger body.

"I thought you were being a shallow jerk," the young British man replied. Damien grunted and crossed his arms, saving face by pretending to be aggravated, but inwardly he was cheering and sobbing, thanking God over and over again.

"Then how did you get the antidote?" the Son of Satan asked with a tone wedged between bitter and curious. Pip sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

"I… I intended to sleep with him," Pip mumbled, "But I couldn't. I didn't want him… I only wanted you… And before I could even realize it… I um… punched him." Pip held up his right hand, showing faded pink knuckles. Damien had to swallow back his cackle and utter joy.

"Wish I could have seen it!" Damien exclaimed, sitting back on his heels, head tipped up mentally conjuring the scene. Then he realized when he saw Pip when he returned, the boy was scuffed up. "Wait a second; did he try to hit you back?"

"Um, no… He was too…" Pip wrung his hands together in guilt. Damien raised a brow.

"Disoriented?" the raven offered. Pip flashed him a smile and nodded. The Anti-Christ was still cheering, whooping for joy inside him mind. "So how did you get all those scrapes?"

"Oh, I ran all the way back here from an abandoned church on the other side of town," Pip sighed and fingered through his hair with a frown. "It was windy and I forgot to tie back my hair. It kept getting in my eyes and I fell down a few times." Damien just stared at the blond for a moment. Trust Pip to run back home ending up looking as if he just got fucked within an inch of his life.

"What were you at a church for anyways?" he inquired, deciding not to think of Pip within the lines of being fucked halfway to death, unless it was by him of course.

"I started going there after you showed up," the blond muttered. Damien watched him, feeling at ease in Pip's lack of confidence yet humble acceptance. He smirked as the boy in front of him blushed a dangerous shade of magenta. "I just thought if I walked into a creepy church you might show up one day… Kind of like in a horror movie…"

"Seems to have worked well enough," Damien teased. Pip let out a tense laugh, hiding his face in his hands to tone down the embarrassment. Deciding to let Pip have a break Damien continued his questioning with, "So Eric Cartman is out of the picture for good?"

"Um…" Pip raised his head from his palms. He grinned a tad wider. "I think so. All he needed was a good right hook Kenny said. According to him, when Eric returned to school he was humiliated and allegedly told them he got beaten up by a biker."

"As if," Damien snorted. Pip's chuckle died lightly as the raven leaned over, tenderly taking his chin with those calloused fingers and tilted up his blond head for better access. Pip's eyes closed at the contact of warm pulsing lips against his own. Damien seemed fascinated by that bottom lip, nibbling on it until it seemed to swell under the attention and Pip caved, moaning lightly as he pressed closer. Ah! I know what this taste is now…

Both boys pulled back for breath, huffing and puffing most cheerfully. Damien was letting the back of his hand caress that smooth column of neck. It felt so heavenly, it could only be sinful. "Honey suckles…" he murmured. Pip cocked his head to the side in a puzzled manner, still out of breath as it fanned over Damien's face.

"Honey suckles? Like the flowers you can eat?" he panted. Damien's pale face colored slightly, unaware his inner dialogue had slipped out. Nervously he tried a blatant attempt at changing the subject.

"You know that antidote had a very strange taste… what was it?" the Anti-Christ requested. Pip snapped his fingers in remembrance and Damien was mentally thankful the boy could be easily distracted.

"That right! Cartman told me before he passed out—"

"Hold the phone!" Damien ordered a bemused shine in his dark eyes. "You said he was disoriented, not unconscious."

"Err--he was! For a few minutes…" Pip added with that blameworthy spark back in a wee accent. "But I guess I'm stronger than I look. He had a concussion for a few days."

"Remind me to never call you French, even as a joke," Damien said seriously. Pip smiled coyly and Damien, in the biggest cliché of all time, knew he had fallen even deeper in love with the English teen. Now ain't that cute?

"Back to the subject," Pip continued and Damien waited patiently, "Cartman said after he received the holy water—he admitted that he told the man who owns the daggers he knew the antichrist—the woman mailing it gave him another box. The woman said it was the antidote although Eric never ordered for one."

"That's…" Damien couldn't really locate the best word for it. "Just extremely odd." Pip nodded, a bit of unease flittering in those azure eyes. A small piece of realization dawned on Damien as the orbs shifted away. "And you think you know who might have sent it."

"Well…" Pip let out a huge exhalation of breath. He crawled out of Damien's arms and prodded around the bedside table. The blond opened a drawer and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Cautiously he handed it to Damien. The Anti-Christ brows created a deep V as he took it and opened it up. He gasped at the image before him.

"But this is—"

"The picture of the Whore of Babylon," Pip finished. Damien brought up weary orbs to meet Pip's. "It was in Cartman's pocket along side the vial. When you were sleeping, I went into your library and found the picture on one of your books of the End Times…"

"The woman dressed in robes of gold and red, riding a dragon with seven heads wearing ten crowns; while she is drunk on the blood of saints and good men…" Damien whispered to himself. The taste of the antidote came back in a jilted memory and made Damien clap a hand over his mouth. "I drank…" the Offspring of Evil trailed off, shuddering violently.

"I think so," Pip said skirting around actually saying the word 'blood'. Damien folded up the paper and handed it back to the English lad. He then placed it on the bedside table when he really wanted to rip it apart. "What does this really mean…?" the blond whispered. Damien turned a grim face to him before spying the carpet with intent.

"Well… she's my predecessor…" Damien explained. Pip nodded silently, letting his digits brush over the darker boy's. Slowly they tangled themselves together. Damien looked from their very different hands, one pale and large whereas the other petite and peach colored, then up to Pip's face.

"So you think…" the teen began softly, "That your time is coming up soon?"

"Yeah," The Anti-Christ confessed. "Yeah, I do think that."

"How much longer before you have to enslave the world?" Pip taunted. Damien let out a chortle as he squeezed the hand laying in his. Pip squeezed back. Little jolts of electricity zapped up his arm and danced roughly until they settled around his black heart.

"We still have some time…" Damien murmured. Pip's lid's fell at half mast at the husky voice. Mutually, they came together until they were connected by soft, supple lips. That night would be their first night together. The Anti-Christ would rise to power soon after that moment in time and the English one wouldn't be in the memoirs of the end. Except in Damien's… he could not forget.

Almost as a last request, fate, or perhaps it was destiny, let time stand still for the snow on my flesh.

The End

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A/N: There is my miraculous ending. Sweet, huh? Believe or not, I had a lemon planned for the chapter, but the fingers –wiggles fingers- like this better. I think I do too. Nevertheless, if it makes you nymphos feel better, squint and you might see some smex.

Though I got you, didn't I? I bet you for most of the chapter you're all, "No Pip, how could you do it with Cartman when your true love's right there?!" Nah, Pip could never do that. He's much too in lurve with Damien. That and he has a nasty supply of unknown strength… or maybe Eric's just a wuss (but I like him anyway).

The antidote, on the other hand, confounded me.

I thought, Antidote, antidote, antidote… what can be a perfect antidote for Holy water? Well, Duh, something equally unholy. What's unholy? First thought that popped into my blonde head, Whore of Babylon. She drinks the blood of saints and men and gets drunk on it?! Fuck, this chickie knows how to party! Yay! There's my answer!

But don't get confused, the Whore of Babylon is NOT an actual female. It's more of a metaphor. The woman represents some person who is in a high position and uses it to their advantage. The dragon is the land and the seven heads the seven mountains surrounding it. The ten crowns are the ten kings of the neighboring country.

That's the basics that I can remember from the top of my head. There's more to the Whore… A lot more. And yes, she does come before the antichrist supposedly. She's like the lead in to the false prophet. She'll fall before the antichrist does which then leads into the trials and tribulations. It's all very fascinating.

I just gave you all a lecture. I feel jazzed and somewhat apologetic at the same time.

I wonder though… Can anyone figure out WHY I titled the fic as I did? What symbol am I trying to convey? What do you get out of my title? Does anyone every care?! I dunno…

Which brings me to my next point; I'm working on a one shot (that might turn into more, I'm not sure). I suppose this last chapter a way of constructing it together in a peculiar frame of mine. However, they're two separate pieces. So anyway, if you want, look out for that soon. Luv all! Hope you've had as much fun reading as I've had writing!

(SteelAgainstIvory)