Blue Exorcist is not mine,

Even if I wish

I could own all animes.

-Alchemyfreak42

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"Have you ever tried summoning, Mr. Okumura?"

When Yukio shook his head, Bon frowned thoughtfully.

"I thought it was required for all exwires?"

"That's because summoning is a fairly rare ability," Yukio explained, "But when I began my training there was a need for exorcists of all types, so it wasn't necessary."

"Well, why not try it now?" Izumo suggested.

"Yeah!" Shima exclaimed, "You have the best ide-"

"Shut up, pervert," She interrupted.

"It wouldn't be a problem, would it?" Konekomaru put in, ignoring his friend's antics. "You're the youngest exorcist ever, after all- if you summoned anything dangerous you could take care of it no problem."

"You all want me to try?" Yukio asked, sighing as the students all nodded eagerly. "Fine, then."

"There's a time for everything," He muttered, swiping a bloody finger across a piece of paper- then jerking backward as the paper began sparking with electricity, smoke puffing out fitfully as it settled on the ground.

"Everyone get out!" He ordered, watching carefully as a figure took shape inside the smoke, hunched over and breathing heavily. He glanced in the direction of the paper- too far, and still sparking dangerously- and settled on drawing his gun as the class hurried to the door- too slowly.

The bent figure finished forming, its silhouette ominous as the smoke cleared to reveal something that made Bon stop in the doorway to begin swearing and the ever-composed Yukio gasp out loud in shock.

"What the hell?" Bon asked, staring in confusion.

"I don't know," Yukio said, moving forward slowly and putting his gun carefully back in its holster, "I've never seen anything like this before. Close the door." He added the last part absentmindedly- Bon had already seen, but none of the other students needed to.

The idea of dismissing the demon in front of him flitted into and out of his mind as quickly as sparks from a fire, scattered in the wind. Wherever this demon had come from was unlike any other he'd heard of- what demons would harm their own, let alone an one so powerful it was nearly indistinguishable from an ordinary human?

Something about this demon was off, and he felt a squirming suspicion that this wasn't the work of demons. He hoped to heaven this wasn't just someone with some demon blood in them, but it didn't seem likely.

The boy- for all appearances, it was a boy- in the middle of the room collapsed to the ground with a quiet, tired groan. He didn't make another noise though, only watched with dull, frightened eyes as Yukio cautiously approached to kneel beside him.

He still flinched back, though, when Yukio reached out to the boy laying curled on the ground in nothing but a pair of shorts.

"Tsk," Yukio murmured gently, "I'm not going to hurt you."

The boy didn't answer, watching fearfully as Yukio turned him gently onto his back, uncurling him to see too-visible ribs spotted with bruises in varying stages, cuts and scabs that were clearly infected, and even burn marks. There were dozens of scars from old wounds, too, and all the signs indicating years' worth of abuse.

His breaths were ragged, shallow things that grated against Yukio's ears, his eyes wary and fearful as they tracked his movements.

"Bon, get me a cup of water," Yukio said, "Don't let anyone know about this." He noted the stiffening of the boy's emaciated body, the fear in his eyes at something he'd said, maybe all of it.

The beefy boy nodded solemnly and slipped out the door, leaving him alone with an insanely powerful demon- that was completely helpless.

"Can you speak?" He asked.

"Yes," the boy rasped.

"How much demon blood is in you?" He asked. The boy only frowned at him, his dark eyes hazy with confusion. "Are you a full demon or only a descendant?" He clarified.

"Don't-" The boy broke off, coughing roughly and spitting a glob of blood before he continued, "dunno. They just call me monster."

"Who?" Yukio's stomach clenched uncomfortably, something cold clamping itself into existence around his intestines.

Surprise flitted across the boy's face.

"You need to ask?" The ice in his stomach grew larger as the boy considered him, then spoke again. "You wear their symbol."

"How long?" Yukio asked, bracing himself.

"Dunno," the boy shrugged, "Forever."

Yukio forced himself to close his eyes briefly and breathe shallowly to control the urge to be sick, to go on a rampage against the Church and shove this experience into their faces, demand to know what the hell they were thinking when they did this.

"Here."

Bon's voice jerked him back into reality, his eyes snapping open to see the student and wonder how he'd missed the door opening and closing.

Yukio nodded and carefully lifted the boy's shoulders, allowing Bon to hold the cup to his lips, which he sealed shut and turned away. Bon frowned in confusion, but Yukio took a careful, shaky breath at the thought that the Church would trick someone- even if it was a demon- into drinking holy water.

It was confirmation that there was indeed demonic blood in the boy, though. (As if there'd been doubt after he'd shown up in a summoning circle).

"This- this isn't holy water," Yukio managed to say, watching the boy's mouth twitch in amusement.

"Think I'm-" He broke off to cough again, "-going to believe that?"

Yukio frowned, then glanced at Bon.

"Put a drop on his hand," he instructed, holding the demon boy down as he writhed- he was surprisingly strong, given the prominence of every bone in him and the shallowness of his cheeks- as Bon carefully allowed a drop of water to fall on bare skin.

The boy's body was rigid, his eyes breathing quick and panicked as he prepared himself to be tortured. Yukio's heart bled as he realized that this boy had been conditioned to fear water, the most important substance to life.

The boy cracked an eye open after a moment, watching the water sit innocently on his arm. Some of the tension bled slowly from his shoulders and he looked suspiciously at Yukio. The question of whether the boy's captors had played mind games- proving it wasn't holy water and then swapping it out to torture the demon-

Yukio shook his head and nodded to Bon again. This time, the boy accepted the water even as his shoulders grew rigid again and he had to obviously force himself to drink. Yukio wondered how little they gave him, if he was desperate enough that he would risk poisoning himself just for a taste.

It occurred to him that he had a class standing outside his door, waiting to find out what had happened. Yukio lay the boy back down again and stood, walked to the door, slipped out.

"Class is dismissed for today," He said, "Do not tell anyone- and I mean anyone- what happened today. If you do, I will personally ensure that you fail, are expelled, and can never become exorcists. Am I understood?"

He met each of their eyes, waited for them to nod, to understand that this was serious, before allowing them to leave. He wished he could have told them he'd simply failed, the demon had gone insane and messed up the classroom, but he knew that wasn't possible. He'd been inside alone for too long, and Bon had come out for a cup of water. The best he could hope was that they would keep their mouths shut and wait for a better explanation later.

He reentered the classroom and shut it carefully behind him.

"I need to make a phone call," He told Bon quietly, "Don't let anyone in until I return, and keep an eye on him."

He turned to leave, then he felt like a fool and turned back. "What's your name?"

Something crossed the boy's face before it was hidden away.

"I told you, they call me monster."

"You don't have another name?" Yukio asked, unable to hide the grief in his voice or the pain he felt when the boy only snorted derisively. He nodded silently and left the room, pulling his phone from his pocket.

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"Did you know?"

"It's one thing to kill demons, another to torture them. I've fought for years to stop them capturing demons, but if I'd known about something like this I would have torn down the entire Vatican," his father said, shaking his head, "and they know it, too. That's likely why they never told me."

Yukio allowed relief to wash over him at his father's response, his eyes softening.

"This is- I've never seen anything like it," Yukio said.

He took a breath and knocked on the door, waiting until Bon pulled it open to lead the way inside. The boy was laying on the ground, now covered with a blanket from the emergency kit and Bon's jacket rolled like a pillow beneath his head. The boy snapped his eyes open, watching him warily and keeping his eyes on Yukio.

"This is my father," Yukio said, waving a hand at the older man, dressed in civilian jeans and a t-shirt. "He's going to help us."

"Right." The boy's voice was cold, betrayed.

"Oh, Lord," Yukio could hear the tears in his father's voice, "I'm so sorry, child."

Fujimoto walked forward slowly, holding his hands out to either side as he knelt beside the frail boy whose eyes hadn't left him for a moment.

"Will you allow me to take you to my home? I'll be able to protect you there, hide you from the Church."

"Why?"

"Because you are too young to deserve this," Fujimoto said gently, "You are a child, not a monster."

The boy's breath caught in his throat and he stared at the old man for a long minute before he nodded roughly. Yukio smiled quietly. Having seen the boy's suspicion, Yukio couldn't believe that this boy believed his freedom, but he could believe the boy was willing to take advantage of the reprieve.

"How did you get here?" Fujimoto asked, receiving a shrug in reply. He looked at Yukio questioningly.

"I summoned him."

Surprise flicked across Fujimoto's face and he looked at the boy with new intensity, then asked hesitantly, "Child, what is your name?"

"Don't have one," The boy said, his face flickering oddly again.

"Are you sure?" Yukio's father pressed, "Does the name Rin mean anything to you? Anything at all? Is it even familiar?"

The boy's eyes widened in surprise, and Yukio frowned. Why did his father know this boy's- this demon's name?

"Rin?" His father asked hopefully, "Rin, is it really you?"

The boy shrugged warily, flinching hard when Fujimoto surged forward to embrace him.

"I've found you," He murmured, "I've found you!"

"Father?" Yukio asked hesitantly. He glanced at the boy- Rin, apparently- who looked just as confused.

His dad looked up, smiling through the tears in his eyes and beckoned Yukio closer.

"I thought you were dead," His dad told the boy, smiling so brightly it had to hurt. He turned to Yukio, then, and changed his whole world.

"Yukio, let me introduce you to your twin brother, Rin."

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Yukio watched the demon- Rin- his brother- as he moved carefully about the kitchen.

The boy- his brother, he reminded himself again- still flinched at loud noises and unfamiliar voices, at the sight or mention of medical supplies or doctors, had trouble drinking water because he was always afraid it was purified.

Yukio didn't think it would ever go away. He thought that maybe those ribs and cheekbones would always be just as prominent, that the boy would always have to drink flavored water or juice to prevent panic attacks.

How could one get rid of a lifetime's worth of conditioning, of fear? He couldn't even be angry at the fact that this had been hidden from him, kept quiet. How could he resent the knowledge that his birth father was Satan when he hadn't even inherited his power and the one who had was standing here flinching at the sight of a wet fork?

He couldn't hate his brother for being the son of Satan. How do you hate someone for their lineage when you share it and it's brought them so much suffering, anyway?

He couldn't hate his father for not telling him about the brother he'd been too young to remember. He'd thought Rin was dead, and when do you tell a boy, by the way, you're half demon but don't have any powers because they went to your twin brother who's dead, except nevermind- he's just being tortured by the Vatican.

He couldn't even hate the Church. How do you hate them for doing what they thought was right and would ultimately save many, many lives?

And yet he resented them- all of them- because he had a right to know, and the blood of a monster, and how the hell could you do this to an innocent child, no matter where the blood came from?

"Can you wash the carrots?"

Yukio nodded and shifted to the sink, watching as his brother carefully avoided that area as he moved to a specific drawer to get one of the specially colored knives they'd gotten because Rin had discovered a love of the kitchen but couldn't stand the sight of the silver blades.

His heart clenched again at the knowledge that something so mundane could send his brother into a full-blown panic attack.

His stomach twisted once more as he thought about how easy it would have been for him to spend his life in captivity, too.

It had been months since he'd summoned Rin, and his twin was slowly, slowly, beginning to believe that Yukio wasn't some cruel trick, that the idea of a home wasn't another mind game.

Dinner was ready soon, and Yukio found himself smiling at the admittedly mediocre taste, humming cheerfully as he did the dishes (Rin could hardly brush his teeth, let alone soak his arms to the elbows). He finished and went back to their room, hands in his pockets as he wondered where their father had gotten off to.

On second thought, where the hell was Rin?

He hurried through the house again, searching each room as he looked in vain for the dark-haired boy. Had someone found out and snuck in, stealing Rin away while he was distracted?

He would think that Rin might have gone for a walk, or to the backyard, except that Rin couldn't even get to the entryway without panicking.

He ran his hands through his hair, still damp from the dishes. He needed to contact his father, he might know more. Yukio reached into his pocket to get his phone, brushing against a piece of paper instead.

Horror dawned on him as he realized what he'd done, grasped the paper with shaking fingers and pulled it out to find a smudged, damp circle in his hands.

The next minutes were filled with terror, his hands shaking as he tried to get the summoning circle right, finally, finally managing it and calling out the words that filled the room with smoke as they had a lifetime ago. Suddenly his brother was curled in a ball in the middle of the room, his face filled with terror and his arms held defensively over his head, already bleeding and cut. Holy Water burns covered his bare skin- his shirt had been taken, it seemed, and his pants were torn and bloody.

"Rin!" He cried in relief, stopping short when his brother flinched back from him in terror.

He froze, then carefully slowed down, held his hands out the way he'd learnt to so that Rin wouldn't run away, would know he wasn't going to hurt him.

Rin looked up hesitantly, fearfully, and Yukio's heart tore when he asked in a small voice, "Why did you send me back?"

That was the day that Yukio realized that Rin's paper was far too vulnerable and traced it over in waterproof ink onto waterproof paper, then slipped it into a glass case just for good measure.

It still took too long to regain Rin's trust.

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A pretty straightforward fic, based on the idea I've seen of Rin being summoned by Yukio. In this, the Vatican captured Rin as a child and told Fujimoto he'd been killed. Blue Exorcist isn't mine.

Peace.