“I want Tony.” She ignored his insult; everything he said was true, and she did know it. He’d answered her question well enough. “It’s really that simple. You don’t belong here. Even if he’s not /my/ Tony, there are people who love him, and miss him.” Summer straightened her shoulders. With a quick motion, she hurled a mason jarful of holy water full in his face. “Go home, and leave us be.”
Demony had been about to reply, and he couldn’t quite get his mouth shut in time, unfortunately. He reared back with an inhuman scream, the floor lurching once and lights shattering, but he came up short at the fire, and then stumbled forward a step. He doubled over and retched, spitting up a mouthful of bloody water. Somewhere a dog howled, before the noise cut off abruptly—keep working you fetid mutt—and left Demony staring blankly at Summer, blood running from his nose and down his chin. And then he sort of…folded, slumping to his knees in an almost gentle manner, like a puppet with the strings cut.
He laughed, then; a strange, strained titter of a laugh, before he crooned, “Shhhhh. Just sit tight.” His head fell back and his chin dropped, and the smoke spilled out, fleeing through the patches where the water had broken the circle.
Tony pitched forward and caught himself on his elbows. He took a moment to just breathe, panting harshly, before he slowly pushed himself back up to his knees, eyes wide as he stared at Summer.
The demon’s trap vanished in an instant. Summer crouched, slowly, holding out a hand as to a feral cat. “Tony?” Ah, god, the shadows in his eyes cut like knives. “Tony, you’re safe now.” Gentle fingers brushed at the blood and water on his face, so like her own loved Tony. The lines etched in were different, a few scars and marks altered, but it was achingly close, and she wanted to draw him close.