Julia was glad. Trust was important in things like this. She needed him to believe in her. To believe that this would work, so that he would be willing to fight when it came to it. Because something like this - ancient and dark and evil - wouldn't go down easy. It would push and fight and lash out with everything it had in order to survive. Julia was doing most of the heavy lifting here, but Richie would still need to do his part. And she knew he would, because he was strong and brave and good.
He twisted and shook under her hands as she poured herself into him, filling him with her power and leaving no room for the vile darkness. It lashed out at her like a wounded thing, even s it began to pour out of him. It was wild and angry and monstrous and it very much didn't want to die. But few things did.
It wasn't weak and Julia had to fight to contain it. To remove it. It was fear and fear was a powerful thing. It shrieked and fought and tried its best to dig its claws into her. Richard was dead. They were all dead. Reynard was in his skin. There was blood beneath her back and his hands were holding her down and she had loved him in her way but this wasn't love. He was holding her down and it hurt and she was screaming but he wouldn't stop.
No. She ripped into it with her power, shredding away pieces of it. No. She was not afraid. She wasn't that girl any more. She was strong and nobody would ever touch her again. She would beat it back and she wouldn't let it have Richie. It poured out of him, so much, and burned away in the light of her power.
"Come on Richie," she said quietly, smoothing back his hair with her hand even as she lit him up with her power. "You've got to fight. You can do this. You just need to fight."