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bennydwight · 1 year

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TGAMM Season 2 Countdown: Four days left

A new art medium for the four days milestone. Have a post-season finale fic!

Summary: Following the destruction of the Chairman, Scratch is plagued by insomnia. Turns out, he’s not the only one. Apparently, he and Libby are more alike than first expected

Word count: 2300 (give or take)

If you prefer AO3 formatting, click here to read!

Obviously, being dead, there were some things Scratch simply didn’t need to do. Eat. Flatulate. Sleep. He did them simply because he really liked to do them, in fact they were often cited as his favourite things to do. So now, as he lay in his dollhouse with his hands clasped over his chest like a corpse, the annoyance broiling in his center didn’t come from the need to sleep, but rather the inability.

In control of himself in a way humans generally weren’t (thanks to a blessed lack of glands, those little fiends messed with everything), insomnia wasn’t a common struggle, able to will himself to sleep anytime, anywhere. Usually. Lately, it had been getting harder. After the McGees had been forced to leave, sleep became nearly impossible, the creaks and groans of his old house echoing emptily without living bodies to bounce off, turning his warm home into nothing more than a hollow structure. He took to roaming the dark halls during the night like a… well, like a ghost. He’d finally been able to relax a little after they moved back in, but the events with the Council, and the Chairman, and Molly in the Ghost World today? The edges of his form tightened with riled energy at the thought even now. Stupid pseudo-biology.

In the light of day, when the family was loud and annoying and active and alive and there, then he could rest. But in the stillness of night, the air too dead to be truly comfortable, Scratch dimmed his glow and abandoned the dollhouse to poke his head into the bedroom proper. Molly lay practically smothered under an obscene amount of fluffy blankets, all her stuffed animals in haphazard piles around the lump of her body. Their blank eyes stared eerily forward, her silent and expressionless protectors. She nearly squeezed the head off her unicorn in her sleep, clinging to the corporeal. Scratch knew creepy, his job depended—had depended on it, but if the toys brought Molly even a little comfort then he could stand the weird little button eyes.

The exhaustion of being separated from her body had put Molly to sleep almost immediately, and though it was a deep sleep Scratch couldn’t speak to the restfulness of her dreams. Especially with the way she was strangling that unicorn. He’d check back on her again later.

He drifted downwards, to the landing and then through to Darryl’s bedroom, where the youngest McGee splayed across his bed, limbs tangled in plant-printed sheets and whistling through his nose with every breath. Here. Alive.

(The sound had driven him nearly mad when they first moved in, every sign of occupants grating against his existence like sandpaper, but now he wouldn’t trade the noise for all the tacos in Brighton.)

Scratch took a second to check the bandages around Darryl’s fingers, bitten to bloody as they all waited for Molly’s successful return. And his own. He made a quick detour to the bathroom and dropped a tube of antibiotic cream on Darryl’s nightstand. If that didn’t remind him to change the bandages in the morning, Scratch would do it himself.

Across the hall saw him into mom and dad’s room, the two of them cuddled close in peaceful slumber, sleeping like the dead.

(Eew, no, he didn’t want to think about that.)

A little green bottle of melatonin sat innocently on Pete’s bedside table, and Scratch’s glow dimmed impossibly further. Maybe their sleep was sound now, but it didn’t look like it started that way. Had that been his fault?

And since when had he started caring so much?

Assisted or not, the McGees had settled, so Scratch headed out into the night, continuing his rounds. A way to burn an unfamiliar restless energy at the beginning, they’d since evolved into a fallback routine. Molly had her stuffed animals. Darryl, the older members of his family. Mom and dad, melatonin. Scratch had his rounds, a reminder (a comfort. Here. Alive). Brighton slept, blissfully unaware of the harrowing events of the day, but despite the subsurface titanic shift of the status quo, the town remained stubbornly stagnant. Ah, life. To be so ignorant again.

Scratch reached the bookshop and headed in through the left window, where Leah lay still except for the even rise and fall of her chest. He hadn’t been present for the dropoff (being detained and all), but he’d witnessed her load armful after armful of occult books back into the trunk of her old beater, pleasantly bemused at the sense of relief and celebration radiating from his family as she came to drive Libby back home. Without her help, Libby and Molly might never have been able to free him. Indirectly, Leah Stein-Torres may have saved his life. (Or death. Whatever.)

Crossing into the adjacent bedroom, though, Scratch froze on reflex. Libby sat on her window seat, notebook on her lap and pencil moving in quick strokes across the paper even as her stare remained glued out the window.

Seems he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep.

“Burnin’ the midnight oil?”

A thrill of satisfaction passed through him at Libby’s startled noise, and she whipped around so fast her hair smacked her in the face. Not exactly a scare, but maybe it would still count in his scare report—

Which, with the Chairman gone, probably wouldn’t exist anymore. (Weird to think about, but hey, he could use the vacation.)

Libby’s surprise faded, posture relaxing as she recognized her visitor. “Oh. Hey, Scratch.”

He scoffed at her tone, making himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat. Her throw pillows didn’t have the same comfy impression as Sharon’s, but they melded nicely to his butt regardless. “Pfft, a guy might start to feel unwanted.”

“You are in my bedroom past midnight,” Libby pointed out, annoyingly correct. Then, the previous tension hiked up her shoulders. “Did something happen? Is everything okay?”

Scratch raised his hands placatingly. “Easy, Libs, everything’s fine. With me, anyway,” he accentuated the word with a weighted stare.

Libby leaned back, resigned. “Just… couldn’t sleep.”

“I hear it’s goin’ around.”

“Still thinking about… what happened today?”

She missed his surprised glance, weirdly focused on the window, but her direct question threw him for a loop. How could he not be? The Ghost World had changed fundamentally. His best friend had given up half her life to save him and they’d both almost been lost to despair, and despite the fact that this should all be neatly filed away and repressed in his mind somewhere to never be thought of again, here he was losing sleep over it. “Uhhh… no?”

“Oh.” Wrong answer. Libby pulled her knees closer to her chest. “Me neither.”

Equally unconvincing. Should he… press? Molly would, but wasn’t that invasive? Did he really care enough to know? Was the fact that he asked himself that proof one way or the other?

As he scrambled desperately for something to say, panic rising, Libby’s pencil started up again, scratch scratch scratch, in those short, repetitive strokes. Scratch peered over to see a messy sketch of Molly, gray and lifeless, in the notebook’s margins.

The trip to the Ghost World had been a whirlwind of dread and uncertainty and so, so much fear that Scratch hadn’t even considered what it was like on the other side. Going through it firsthand had been stressful enough. What must it have felt like to just be… waiting?

Somehow, miraculously, the connection between his mind and his tongue solidified. “Hey. Thanks.” Spirits, he was bad at this. “For, uh, taking care of Molly while we were gone.”

Instead of reacting to the praise, Libby closed off, tucking her chin into the collar of her pyjamas. “It was scary, you know. Not knowing what was going on. Stuck with that… shell.”

“…Yeah.” Molly’s essence—ironically, her life—had been deep in death’s trenches. Though it looked like Molly and sounded like Molly, it hadn’t been Molly. Scratch had spent a grand total of twenty seconds with the cadaver and even that had been unnerving.

How long had they been gone in the living world? He hadn’t thought to ask. Apparently a common theme for him.

“Will it happen again? Will Molly leave to hang out there, or… save you again or anything?”

Scratch only heard the unspoken question because he’d turned it over in the dark, secret, nasty parts of his mind so often: will Molly leave me for something better?

(He was not a fan of this particular mirror. The universe liked to play jokes, apparently.)

He sighed. “Okay, look. In the Ghost World, we have—had—this thing, the Flow of Failed Phantoms.” How had no one explained this to her yet? “A ghost doesn’t meet his misery quota and he’d be banished forever, blah blah blah. That’s what Molly saved me from.”

Libby’s head shot up, fingers tightening around her notebook to the point where the paper crumpled, and Scratch winced sympathetically. “You were going to be banished?!”

“Dipped too low in my quota. Hard to be miserable with Molly around.” No matter how hard he tried.

“So this might happen again? This rescue mission?”

Scratch felt her panic and fear in mouth-watering waves, but the ability to resist taking advantage of that had grown astonishingly strong. Besides, there was no point in scaring anyone anymore. “Nah, see, Molly took care of that. She kinda, uh, destroyed the Flow. Forever. And killed the guy in charge. So, no more risk of that.” Unless the Ghost Council formed an even worse alternative, a thought that haunted Scratch’s every (annoying, plentiful) waking moment. That was a Future Scratch problem.

The fear lessened some, and his membrane stopped itching. “So… neither of you are in danger anymore?”

Her voice was so plaintive Scratch was suddenly, abruptly aware that he was talking to a child. It was hard to remember sometimes, kids were so much more mature these days (save Darryl), but Libby’s eyes glistened alarmingly in the filtered streetlights, stubbornly refusing to meet his own stare.

This was so far out of his comfort zone.

A hesitant beat passed before he floated over, hooking his fingers around the top of her notebook. “Hey, Libs, it’s alright. Molly and I are here for good. No more wraiths, no more Flows. You’re stuck with us.” He tried an encouraging smile. “I promise.” Normally that kind of commitment only manifested when he performed a curse, but for some reason this felt like the opposite. On impulse, he rested one of his hands over hers, the way he and Molly had connected as the Flow threatened to break them down to nothing but molecules of misery.

Finally, Libby’s hands softened, the paper’s rough crinkling nearly masking a quiet sniffle. “I’d just hate to be stuck here while you two were in trouble.”

All this mushy stuff was making his ectoplasm curl. Scratch reached around, adjusting sketch-Molly’s slack mouth into a smile, and her appearance shifted from corpselike to sleepily contented. “Well, now you know how to wraith, and you know Geoff,” (a little joining of worlds he could’ve gone without, thank you very much), “so you can come pull our butts out of the fire if this ever happens again. Which it won’t.”

Molly’s hugs were telegraphed, wide-armed and strong enough to discorporate him if she really tried. So Libby’s arms around him, sudden and tentative like she was afraid of breaking him, were a shock to his nonexistent heart.

“Thank you, Scratch. For taking care of her in there.”

His body knew how to respond to the McGees, but this was new. After a moment’s hesitation, Scratch wrapped her in his own hug, secure and strong (like Molly’s). Like a conversation, Libby’s grip tightened to match. “Thanks for keepin’ her safe out here. No more trips to the Ghost World if I can help it.”

Her warm chuckle vibrated against him. (Here. Alive.) “Aww, you’re kind of a softie, aren’t you?”

“Alright, alright, get off, your hair’s getting stuck in my ectoplasm.” Another difference from Molly’s hugs: more hair. As Libby pulled away, she couldn’t quite disguise a sleepy blink. “Now get to bed or your mom’s gonna kill me again.”

She giggled, the sound infinitely lighter and Scratch’s colour brightened in response. As she put away her notebook and climbed into bed he hovered uncertainly over the window seat, half ready to leave and half insistent that he stay until dismissed. Another old habit.

“Scratch?” He nearly didn’t hear his name, Libby’s voice muffled by sleep and blankets (not as many as Molly, but close). He drifted nearer, and suddenly realized he’d been subconsciously straightening the wrinkles in her comforter. He tucked his hands behind his back, willing down a blush (some habits didn’t die at all, even without glands). “Yeah?”

Libby’s smile betrayed the fact that she’d seen his fussing, something smug and secretive in the corners of her mouth. Too observant for her own good, this one. Scratch braced himself for ridicule, but she only said, “will you stay until I fall asleep?”

His glow softened, casting warm shadows into the corners of her room like a nightlight, and he didn’t bother trying to mask the way he adjusted the blankets now. “Yeah, kid. Don’t worry. I ain’t going anywhere.”

Spirits, he was a failure as a ghost. Maybe he was getting better at this ‘friendship’ thing, though, and he knew which one he preferred.

END

#the ghost and molly mcgee #tgamm #tgamm s1 spoilers #scratch #scratch mcgee #libby #libby stein torres #what i affectionately refer to as the introvert crew #countdown #writing

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thisbelongsto-nohbodys · 8 months

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My Top 12 TGaMM S2 songs (in no particular order)

Kinda like in Centaurworld, I found more songs in S1 than S2 that I liked but that's not to say that the songs weren't enjoyable. It's just a shame I won't be able to make a S3 list T_T

Anyways, here's my Top 12 TGaMM S2 songs in no particular order:

12. Frightful No More [A Doll to Die For]

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It's great to hear Lord Hater again and a song that's an homage to "Everything's Coming Up Roses" (Gypsy) and "The Rain in Spain" (My Fair Lady)...at least that's what it make me think of.

11. It's Just Your Masterpiece in You [Faint of Art]

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This episode was a pretty nice message on art block and a fear of failure that a lot of artists face, especially when they haven't done anything in years. I tend to procrastinate by snacking, which of course I can't draw with food fingers (even when using a napkin) so I gotta wait till it goes away, oh whoops, now the days ended, oh well, tomorrow...

10.Thai Culture Cram [100% Molly McGee]

A fun song showing the lengths that Molly is willing to go to learn half of her culture. Granted she didn't realize that this stuff takes time but she's on the right path.

9.Me & My Dad [Like Father, Like Libby]

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Kid's who have an absentee parent def felt what Libby is singing about in this one. It just sucks when someone who should be important in your life, doesn't take it as serious as you'd wish they would.

8. Hit Restart [Perfect Day]

Gotta love how relaxed the singer is while describing the continuiously hectic attempts Molly and Scratch make at having a perfect first day of the year.

7. Identity Crisis [Davenport's in Demise]

youtube

It's a shame we didn't get more from Andrea this season, especially after this ep. I know we would've gotten her and Alina in S3 but still, I would've liked to see how her and Molly are friends

6. Maybe Next Time [The End] (Spoilers)

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Scratch's backstory was a gut-punch, especially for those of us that feel like we're wasting our lives away. It does kinda remind me of a more sad version of "I Remember It Well" (Gigi)

5. Enjoy Your Afterlife [The New (Para)Normal]

A fun song with the Ghost Council about life after the Chairman's defeat that kinda reminds me of "Go Back to City Hall" in S1

4. You Got to Be Low-Key [The (After)Life of the Party]

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Jinx is such a little shit in this song. Not to mention this was the ep that confirmed that Geoff and Jeff are married

3. Back to Misery [Jinx vs the Human World]

Gotta love a villain song. Just a shame we didn't get more.

2. Trying to Find [All in the Mind]

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Love the abstract visuals of going through someone's mind and the soft vocals and instrumentals.

Honorable Mention 1: You've Been Jinxed [Jinx!]

Honorable Mention 2: Feeling Like MY Old Self Again/Small Town America [Kenny's Falling Star]

Honorable Mention 3: Happy Happy Death Day [The Many Lives of Scratch]

1.This House is Haunted [Frightmares on Main Street]

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Love this homage to "Thriller" but it's also to see ghosts being able to let loose. A great Halloween special

As stated before, it's a shame that we won't get anymore eps but at least what we've gotten were great. Idk if I should do an overall list

#the ghost and molly mcgee #music #video #top 12 #Youtube

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