A Place to Land
(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: You told Billy you love him. And he knows it's time to break up with you.
Warnings: Minor language (I don't think I use the F word), angst to fluff, insecure Billy, drunk Billy
Word Count: 3495
A/N: I'm actually really proud of this one. I think I fixed what was bugging me about it a few weeks ago. Please let me know what you think! I also recognize this is not one of the requests I have in my ask box. I will get to those, but I am weak to the little gremlins controlling my hyper-fixations.
The day Billy realized he loved you, he knew he had to leave. It was only a matter of time before you broke up with him. He felt it when he woke up from nightmares, and you held him.
He felt it if he wanted to leave a party early because the crowds reminded him of how claustrophobic his mind felt under the Mind Flayer’s influence—he thought your frown was annoyance.
Your look of pity each time he didn’t answer you because he flashed back to that time killed him.
Before the Mind Flayer, he wondered why you agreed to that initial date with him. He was an asshole—so angry at everything. Angry at himself. What did you even see in him?
Your date had to be one of his favorite memories. He took you to see The Goonies, bought popcorn to share, and when he took your chin and turned you to kiss him, you waved him off after the third one. He would’ve been irritated; any other girl and he’d have considered the night a bust, but you were so invested in the screen that he couldn’t help his lips turning up. He wasn’t sure you realized you grabbed his hand at one point in your excitement at the film. Neither of you pulled away until it was over to gather your things. He had thrown an arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his side. And when you asked if he wanted to go to the diner down the street, a little jump in his stomach made him say “yes.”
It felt…nice…that someone wanted to spend time with him. Maybe he was interesting enough without sex.
He’d never laughed as hard as he did that night. You were funny and kind, sweet and smart—and dammit—the way you smiled at him? You were so goddamn beautiful. He was hooked.
Now, after the Mind Flayer—after he found out this wasn’t your first time dealing with that creature—he knew he loved you. He felt the beginning of it that first night. And that meant you would hurt him. That meant you would leave.
Exactly like his mom had.
But Billy was a coward.
The day he had decided to end it, he kept pushing it back. He had picked you up, and you smiled, and he thought, “Tomorrow.”
You were in the middle of a date, sitting across from one another, and he had imagined that smile turning into a sneer. He had been so close to blurting it out. Then, you giggled and intertwined your fingers with his.
Then, Steve invited everyone over for a BBQ. He had tackled you into the pool, and when you both emerged, you laughed and splashed him. He warned you with the biggest smile, and you started swimming to the other end of the pool.
Billy watched it all. And he felt sick.
It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t angry enough to be jealousy. It was like confirmation. One day, you could have this when you were no longer tied to him. If it was happening now, then it’d happen in the future.
He had to break up with you.
No matter how much it’d kill him.
—
He pulled in front of your house, barely getting out of the car before you were bounding toward him.
You were so excited to see him that you couldn’t even wait for him to reach the door.
He shook his head slightly. He had to do this, had to beat you to the punch.
“Hey, Billy! How are—”
“We need to talk,” he said, avoiding your eyes.
“Oh? What about?” You tilted your head, scanning over his tense posture.
He let out a slow breath. Just rip the bandaid off.
“I’m breaking up with you.”
“What?” Had you heard him correctly?
“I’m breaking up with you,” he repeated, jaw clenched.
You took a tentative step forward.
“Billy, I—what do you mean? Are you okay?”
It didn’t make sense. You were attached at the hip yesterday; Billy couldn’t keep his hands off you, and now he wanted to break up?
What the hell was going on?
He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets to hide his whitening knuckles. He didn’t trust himself to not grab hold of you.
“I mean, it’s over. I don’t love you.”
You furrowed your brow, inhaling shakily. “I love you, Billy. I’ve been telling you for weeks now. I know you haven’t said it yet, but that’s okay! I’d never pressure you into—”
He had to cut you off if he was gonna get through this.
“And I’ve realized I don’t love you. What? You gonna make me stay with you?” He wished he could get through this without looking at you, but then you wouldn’t believe him.
You’d be okay. You may hate him now, but you’d move on. And he’d never have to know the pain of you leaving him—of you having an everlasting disdain for him. This hate would only be temporary.
“...You know I won’t,” you whispered. “I’d never force you to do anything.”
He'd had enough of that his entire life.
He nodded. “Then I guess we’re over.”
He turned to walk back to the driver’s side, pulling the door open with more force than needed.
“I don’t believe you.” You managed to get out before he got in.
He stopped. His hand was on the car's roof but didn’t look up.
It gave you a bit of hope.
“I don’t believe that you don’t love me. I see it every time you look at me.” You sniffled. “I know you, Billy. You never would’ve been with me for this long—through all this shit—if you didn’t love me.” You wiped at your tears. “But if this is what you need to do, then I guess you have to do it. And I’ll still love you. That’s never going to change.” You took in a shaky breath. “So, when you’re ready, I’ll be here. You’ll never lose me. I promise.”
He didn’t know how you could read his mind. But it had always been like that. You could anticipate what he needed before even he knew.
He wanted to run to you, to scoop you into his arms and apologize, but that nagging in his head wouldn’t stop. The image of you and Steve smiling and laughing. That phone call with his mother—Billy begging her to take him, too.
It felt like you confessed to him just yesterday—that warm feeling in his chest froze over.
You’d leave him eventually. Even if you didn’t think you would, he’d do something to change that. He’d ruin the best relationship he ever had, and then you’d be gone.
He blinked rapidly, getting into his car and speeding away. But not before glancing in his rearview to see the tear tracks streaming down your face.
—
It had been three weeks since Billy broke up with you, and every day your chest seemed to hurt worse. You had spent the first few days hopeful, convincing yourself Billy would be at your door any moment to apologize and explain why he did what he did. It didn’t fully sink in until the fourth day that he was serious.
You had arguments, of course, but Billy was always quick to remedy the situation. He didn’t like when you were angry with him. He said it put a pit in his gut because it reminded him of his anger toward his father. Even if it wasn’t nearly the same thing, Billy still hated the idea that you could ever loathe him that much.
But you didn’t hate him—could never hate him. You just wanted him back, but you didn’t know how to do that. You had called but either gotten Max or nothing at all. You had driven by several times, but Max and Billy weren't home, or he ignored you because—of course—he could tell it was you by your knock.
By week two, you were almost positive you had done something to him. However, you had no idea what. You played through every moment you spent with Billy, and the closest thing you could come up with was that you were a bit clingy. And even when you asked Billy about it, he said he liked it!
That was a few months ago, and he wasn't one to hold his tongue if something bothered him. It was one thing you loved about him. Even though it may come off as harsh—which he was working on—nothing ever festered with him. There was no chance of growing regrets.
You had barely gotten any sleep the past few weeks.
Lying in bed in one of Billy’s shirts, you tried to take your mind off everything with a book when the phone rang.
You sighed but got up to answer anyway. At this hour, it was either Robin or Steve.
“Hello?”
You waited a moment, no one speaking, and then a deep breath came through.
“(Y/N)?”
“Max?” You furrowed your brow. “Is everything okay?”
You’d spoken to her plenty since your break up, but she had never called you after ten. You gripped the phone tighter, ready to listen to anything she had to say, and hoped she was alright.
“I don’t…It’s Billy.” She waited for your response, and when you didn’t give one because of your surprise, she continued, “He’s been drinking a lot since your…since you know…and I’m worried. This is the worst it’s ever been, and I…I don’t know what to do.” She let out a shaky breath. “Can you please come over? I think he needs you.”
Your heart was in your throat. Part of you wanted to refuse. Billy ended things. There was no way he wanted to see you.
But the selfish part of you wanted to see him, to make sure he was okay, to maybe get some answers out of his inebriated state. Even if you didn’t want to hear them. So, you told her you’d be over soon. Not bothering to change, you threw on shorts and shoes and grabbed your keys.
—
You didn’t know what to expect when you arrived. Billy could hold his alcohol, but you didn’t know what frame of mind he was in. The fact that Max called you to begin with set you on edge.
You barely knocked on the door before Max ripped it open.
“Hey.” Her mouth pinched. “He’s in his room. He was…He turned off the music ten minutes ago. I’m not sure what he’s doing.”
You nodded. “...You said he’s been doing this since we…since he—”
“Yeah, I’m not sure what to do anymore,” she said.
You placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll try to figure out what’s going on.”
You weren’t sure if you knocked or not on Billy’s door. The thumping of your heart drowned out the taps.
His slurred “go ‘way, Max” made it nearly stop. Just how long had he been like this?
“It’s me, Billy.”
He opened the door faster than Max, eyes wide as he took you in, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were here.
“(Y/N)?”
The glassiness of his eyes made you want to pull him close and tell him everything would be okay. That whatever was going on in his head, you could face together.
“Is s’tha’ really you?” His knuckles brushed your cheek, testing to see if this was another daydream. And when he made contact, he breathed, “I miss s’you.”
Your nose tingled. “I miss you, too, Billy.”
A singular tear slipped down his face as he cupped yours.
“Hey,” you cooed. “It’s okay.” You wiped it away. “Everything’s okay.”
He shook his head adamantly. “I’m sorry. M'sorry…sorry…”
His shoulders shook, and he could no longer look at you, head hanging low.
You hushed him softly as you led him back into his room and closed the door. His apologies continued until you sat on his bed and pulled his head into your neck.
You brushed through his curls and blinked back your own tears. Never had you seen Billy like this.
He had gotten better at telling you what he felt but still kept a lot to himself. This…This was a sadness you couldn’t handle seeing in him. You wanted nothing more than to take it away—fix it—so you could see that brilliant smile again.
“I lo’you.” He burrowed further into you. “Love you.”
They were quiet confessions, but they held so much conflict.
You were relieved, almost ecstatic, but he was drunk. It might just be because you were here, comforting him.
In any other scenario, you’d be the happiest person alive. However, with every “I love you,” a knife seemed to lodge into your heart.
“I love you, too,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Everything’s okay. I forgive you.”
He squeezed you tighter in response. All he wanted was to be closer to you. Like that could erase what he had done.
With another kiss, you gently guided him away so you could meet his gaze.
“Let’s get you ready for bed, okay?” You tucked a stray curl behind his ear, and he nodded. It seemed he was content to do whatever you said.
You helped switch his shirt to a clean one and handed him a pair of boxers, covering your eyes when he didn’t hesitate to remove the ones he wore.
“How’s that feel? A little better,” you asked, combing through his hair with your fingers.
He hummed, leaning in.
“Good,” you said. “I’m gonna get you some water and aspirin for tomorrow.”
When you went to pull away, his hand shot up to grip yours.
“Please,” his eyes were near watery, “please, don’t leave me.”
Maybe you were imagining it, but his plea felt like it held so much weight.
He was asking you to stay with him, to sleep beside him so he wouldn’t feel so vulnerable in an already vulnerable state. But it also felt like he was asking you to not walk away from him. That even though he broke up with you, he regretted it. And hoped you would want him back, accept him and all his mistakes. All his flaws.
Either way, the answer was the same.
“I’ll always be right here, Billy.” You squeezed his hand. “You get settled, and I’ll be right back.”
He slowly nodded, letting your hand slip from his.
And when you came back, Billy was on his side, facing the door, a space for you wide open.
Once you got in, he nuzzled into your chest, arms securely around you.
“Love you,” he mumbled, already half asleep.
“Love you, too,” you whispered, heart in your throat.
—
There were three blissful seconds of peace, of the comfort of an arm wrapped around your waist when you woke up. Then last night flooded back.
Billy drunk.
Him crying.
And saying he loved you.
And you had said it back even though you were afraid the next day would bring you more hurt.
He might not remember.
Or worse, he might not have meant it.
Looking up at the peaceful expression on his face pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind.
He’d feel like shit today, so the least you could do was make him breakfast and ensure he was alright.
You had managed to switch positions throughout the night. He had held you like always.
You carefully slipped out and into the kitchen. And as you worked, you prepared for the worst.
—
The ache in his chest might’ve been worse than the one in his head. The sun hurt his eyes, and the cold spot beside him bit at his torso.
You had been there.
He couldn’t remember all of last night. But you had been standing outside his door. And the smell of your shampoo clung to his sheets anew. Back where it belonged. The day it had worn off, he had buried his face in his pillow, desperate for one part of you to still be with him.
But you weren’t here anymore.
He swallowed the aspirin, wondering if Max had put it there. Maybe she took pity on him and was making him breakfast.
The bacon made his mouth water. He just hoped she wouldn’t want him to open up about last night. He didn’t want to relive it, especially when you had left before he woke up.
He dragged his feet in the hallway, one hand grazing the wall with the other rubbing his eyes.
He would've plopped down at the table. He would’ve tucked his head in his arms and maybe drifted in and out until Max nudged him. Instead, he stopped and stared.
You were still here.
His heavy steps must have alerted you because you glanced over your shoulder and gave him a small smile.
“Morning,” you said softly.
“Hi,” he said, blinking once, then again.
You motioned for him to sit at the table, and he did without another word.
You hadn’t left him.
After placing some food down, you sat across from him.
He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t even sure he was awake right now. After everything he put you through, you stayed.
His mind was still foggy. Add that to the thoughts racing through it, and he didn’t know where to start. Thankfully, you spoke first.
“I miss you,” you whispered, hands folded atop the table.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I miss you, too.”
Without his notice, his hand had sought yours out, his fingers sneaking underneath to trace your palm. “I miss you so much.”
Your answering squeeze was like a switch—it made things brighter.
“I’m right here,” you said.
He nodded, not even trying to keep the smile at bay.
He believed you. Last night was proof. He was at one of his lowest points, and you had shown up—you had stayed.
Still, the smallest part of him had to hear you say it.
“Promise?” He locked eyes with you, pleading.
You took his hand in both of yours. “I promise,” you said. “I love you.”
He let out a disbelieving laugh. “I love you, too.”
You brought his hand up to kiss his knuckles, and he could feel your smile against his skin.
He needed you closer.
Tugging at you, he muttered a “come here,” guiding you onto his lap and pushing his nose into your neck, breathing into you. “I love you so much.”
You said it back, running a hand through his messy curls, then trailing your thumbs around his ears down to his jaw, holding him gently so you could kiss him. You wanted to savor every second of this. You had a lot to discuss, but right now? You just wanted to be with him.
His grip tightened as he returned the kiss.
He wanted to apologize again, to tell you how much he regretted what he said. Before he could, you looked at him as if you couldn't get enough.
“As much as I would love to continue kissing you, I’m starving. And you need to eat.”
He laughed, a genuine, full-fledged laugh, something he hadn’t done in weeks.
You tried pushing off his lap, but he wouldn’t let you budge.
“I’m just gonna get my own plate,” you said, giving him a quizzical look.
He shook his head. “Eat off mine.”
And with the contentment and hope on his face, you couldn’t argue. So, you swiped a piece of bacon, taking a bite as he kissed your shoulder.
"This mine?" he asked, pulling at the hem of your shirt.
"Yeah. I've kinda been cycling through all the ones in my closet," you said.
He hummed, a sullen look crossing his features.
"Been wearing your ring," he muttered, fishing out his Saint Christopher to show you the ring hanging on it.
You toyed with both pieces, rubbing your thumb over the face of the original, then set it back to his chest. You pressed your palm against his heart, and he placed his hand over it.
You leaned your forehead against his, closing your eyes.
He took a sharp breath, then relaxed.
When you finally looked into his eyes, they held security. He trusted you. And he would continue to trust you with something he didn't trust anyone with.
As you ate, one of your arms stayed around his shoulders, sometimes playing with his hair or rubbing his neck. His stayed firmly around your waist, his fingertips grazing up and down your side, trailing further to your thigh.
It was perfect, this moment. Every laugh Billy brought out of you, every kiss you gave him, every word said; it was all a balm. He wasn’t completely healed, he knew that, but he also knew you.
You had reassured him, given him a place to land when he never thought that place existed. You loved him. And that meant you weren’t going anywhere.
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The Apocalypse Club
(ao3) (art 1) (art 2)
Valerie, Kwan, and Paulina find out Danny's biggest secret while Amity Park is invaded by a strange new ghost. Now, all four of them have to work together to save the day.
...If they can stop fighting each other first.
Hey!!! this is my @invisobang piece for 2023!!!! it hits in at about 15k words and i got to work with @minnowmarsh and @trolithfoxyflint for the amazing art that comes with it! now you crazy kids have fun reading :D
----------------
“How,” Valerie said when she could talk again.
Danny shrugged and looked away. His face was tinted green, though whether from nausea or the swirling portal on the wall of the lab, she couldn’t say. Kwan didn’t look much better, ashen gray, hair sticking up in all directions from how much he’d been pulling it. Paulina’s eyes hadn’t left Danny’s face since…
Well, since.
“Is that the most important question right now?” he said, rummaging in the desk.
Yes, she wanted to scream. But it wasn’t, and she knew it wasn’t, just as much as she knew that he was avoiding the question.
But she was a professional. She’d worked with… Danny… before. She could put aside her personal feelings until they were safe.
“What’s the plan?”
“We need allies,” he said, still not looking at her. “The only place left to find them is the ghost zone.”
“What?” Paulina said. “You want us to—to go in there?”
“What about our families?” Kwan said.
“Isn’t it super dangerous in there?”
“Look, your families’ best chance is if we get help. And you don’t have to come with me, but I think it’s more dangerous to sit here and wait.”
Valerie rolled her eyes. How was she ever friends with these two? Here they were, whining about danger, when they were missing the most obvious issue with this plan. “Where are we going to get allies in the ghost zone? The whole thing’s just full of ghosts!”
Maybe it was a trick of the light, but for a moment his eyes flashed acid green. Her hand snapped to the ectogun on her hip. “You’ve worked with ghosts before, Val.”
“No, I’ve worked with you before, and who the hell knows what you are.”
The words spilled out her mouth like poison, acid. She didn’t know if she meant them or not, but she did notice his full body flinch.
(She filed away the sore spot for future reference.)
“Jesus, Val,” Kwan said, running his hand through his already messed up hair.
She looked away. “Sorry.”
“Look, I have allies in the ghost zone. Even some enemies who, push comes to shove, will help me out if only so they get to kill me themselves. I’ve never seen or heard of this ghost before, okay? If it’s this powerful, and I’ve never heard of it, that’s a really, really bad sign. We need all the help we can get and we can’t afford to be picky about where it comes from.”
Valerie stared harder at the wall. Her skin crawled at the thought of making nice with ghosts. “Easy for you to say.”
“I’m working with all of you, aren’t I?”
Valerie’s eyes snap to meet Paulina’s, then Kwan’s. She’d forgotten, somehow, that Paulina and Kwan (and she, once upon a time) had always treated him and his friends like garbage. She’d forgotten that for all that Phantom was her enemy, she’d once used his cousin (or whatever that relationship actually was, who the hell knows anymore) as bait to capture and torture him.
“Fine,” she said. Deliberately, she dropped her hand from her gun. “So how are we doing this?”
--
The ghost zone was a lot… greener than Paulina expected. It made sense, in retrospect: green was the color of ectoplasm after all, but in her head she always imagined it to have more of a Sam Manson aesthetic. Black. Maybe some purple. But deep and dark and depressing.
(Last time she saw Sam Manson, Manson’s eyes were totally black and she was clawing at Paulina’s face, spittle flying from her mouth. Not a totally unexpected reaction, she had to admit, but there was no intent or reason, just pure feral violence.)
“So,” she said, “where exactly are we going?”
“The Far Frozen,” Fenton said, hands white-knuckled on the steering. “I have friends there.”
“It, uh, sounds cold,” Kwan said. “I didn’t bring my jacket.” More like a swarm of zombie-football players had tried to drag him down by his collar and he’d only escaped by letting his letterman jacket slide off.
“Frostbite’ll have coats.”
“And what is Frostbite?” That was Valerie, still glaring at Fenton like he’d pissed in her Cheerios. Paulina really didn’t understand what her issue was. Sure, Paulina was shocked to find out that Fenton was her beloved ghost boy, but she was more awkward than angry. Valerie seemed to take the whole situation personally.
“He’s a yeti.”
“A yeti? A dead yeti?” Paulina crossed her arms. “Are you telling me that yetis are real?”
“Look, not all ghosts were once alive. Sometimes, they’re the ghosts of beliefs or ideals or stories. Things we used to think about and believe in. Pandora’s here, too, along with a lot of pantheons, but they won’t tell me if they were ever alive.” Fenton’s lips curled up in a little smile and his face softened. “I’ve been trying to weasel it out of them for months.”
They lapsed into another brief silence before Fenton spoke again.
“Look, if you have any other questions… now might be the best time. It’ll be a bit before we get to the Far Frozen, and I don’t know if we’ll have any time after that.”
Paulina had a million questions, but she couldn’t think of one she wanted to ask right now. How? Why? When? That could all wait until after the day was saved. Her nerves were still twitching and she dug her fingers into her wrist to stabilize, remember the now and not two hours ago, watching Star, black-eyed and snarling with one arm bent out of shape, leap for her throat. She said nothing.
“Are we… just gonna stay in the For Frozen?” Kwan said. “Like, while you save the world?”
“Far Frozen, and yeah. That was the plan.”
“I’m not staying in some frozen wasteland so you and your ghost buddies can fuck up saving the world.”
Paulina couldn’t help staring at Valerie. What the hell was she talking about? Phantom—Fenton—Danny had saved the world plenty of times before.
“I was talking about Kwan and Paulina, Val. I know you’d never stay out of it.”
Valerie curled her lip. “Just so we’re clear. I have to keep an eye on you, anyway.”
“What is your deal, girl?” Paulina said. “If you two are our best shot at saving the world, being pissy at each other isn’t going to help.”
“Stay out of it!”
“The world is ending! We don’t have time for you to be stubborn.”
Kwan shrank back at their raised voices. “Uh, I don’t think this is a good time to fight, either.”
“Of course you don’t. Since when do you ever think for yourself?”
“Hey!”
“Shut up! Just be quiet, all of you. Jesus.” Danny turned around to glare at them, his eyes flashing green. “Valerie and I have worked together before even though she hated me. We can do it again.”
Paulina wasn’t so sure about him using “hate” in the past tense there, but Valerie was nodding.
“I can put my personal feelings aside to save the world, and fuck you for thinking anything different. But then, I guess you never thought much of me, did you?”
“What are you—”
“Seriously? You have to ask?”
Paulina bit her lip. When Valerie’s dad lost his job, Valerie lost everything. Including her friends. Like Paulina. No, she thought after a moment, I suppose I don’t.
Danny groaned from the front. “I changed my mind. No more questions. Let’s just… be quiet.”
Paulina had to agree.
--
The Far Frozen was, in fact, cold.
Kwan shivered in just his black t-shirt, but truthfully, his letterman jacket would’ve only helped so much. This was a bitter cold, a deep-winter cold that took three blankets, a hot chocolate, and fuzzy socks to banish.
Kwan really hated the cold.
“Great One!” the yeti in front of them said, arms (one of flesh and fur, the other of ice and bone) spread wide like he was offering a hug. Was it some kind of yeti cultural thing?
Fenton jumped up and embraced the creature. Apparently, it was just an offer of a hug.
“What brings you to my domain?” the yeti said once he put Fenton down. “And with such strange company as well!”
Fenton rubbed the back of his neck. “We need your help, Frostbite.”
Kwan’s teeth started to chatter. Valerie and Paulina’s arms were dotted with gooseflesh, alongside his own. How was Fenton not fucking freezing?
“Can we have this conversation inside?” Paulina said, rubbing her arms.
“W-w-w-with jackets?” Kwan’s chattering teeth brought out a stutter. Embarrassing. “Ma-y-be a f-fire?”
“Of course!” the yeti said. “Your fragile human bodies require excess warmth to survive. Please, follow me.”
The yeti, who introduced himself as Frostbite, led them to a cave where they were each presented with a delightfully warm coat, almost thick enough to banish the cold from Kwan’s bones.
(Almost.)
Valerie spent the whole trek glaring at Frostbite like she expected him to turn around and start biting the second she took her eyes off of him. She kept one hand on her blaster the whole time. Kwan couldn’t imagine going through life with that kind of paranoia. It must be exhausting.
The cave itself was almost cozy. It was decorated, had furniture and artwork and books like it was someone’s office. With a jolt, Kwan realized that it was an office. Frostbite’s, most likely. On the wall, there was a portrait of Phantom (Fenton?) standing victorious. What the fuck.
“What’s with the whole ‘Great One’ thing, by the way?” Kwan said.
“It is demonstrative of our unending love and gratitude for the Great One, who saved us all from subjugation at the hands of the villainous Pariah Dark!”
Valerie snorted. “‘Villainous.’ Like you’re not.”
Frostbite tilted his head in confusion. Kwan hated to admit it, but it was kind of adorable. “I am unsure what your meaning is. I assure you that we denizens of the Far Frozen have no villainous aims with any friend of the Great One.”
“I’m not gullible enough to believe you.”
Frostbite opened his mouth to reply again, but Fenton cut him off.
“Just ignore her, Frostbite. You’re not going to change her mind and we don’t have time to argue. A new ghost is attacking Amity Park, and we need your help.”
--
It all happened so fast.
All four of them escaped by sheer luck. Kwan managed to dodge the football team and hide in the bleachers next to Paulina, who’d nearly been bitten by Star and Sam in the bathroom. Valerie put on the Red Huntress suit as soon as she realized what was happening, giving her some protection against the spreading infection. And Danny?
Well, Danny could fly.
Danny stumbled upon the other three by chance, checking through the school for anyone who’d managed to avoid the plague, though he didn’t have much hope. He’d found Kwan, Paulina, and Valerie—two useless people and one who absolutely hated him.
Still, he couldn’t leave them there, unprotected. He grabbed Paulina and Valerie hoisted Kwan on her hoverboard and they’d raced to FentonWorks.
He’d intended to stay in ghost form the whole time, but he hadn’t realized that the infected were still capable of reason, at least on some level. That their attacks weren’t mindless. That his mom could hit him with an ectogun that would short out his powers, however temporarily.
And now three new people know who he is.
Three new people who he can’t trust in the slightest.
(What if they tell people? His parents? The school? The Guys in White?)
But he can’t worry about that, because the world is ending.
“I see,” Frostbite said after Danny had explained the situation. “This is… worrisome. If it escaped—”
“It? Frostbite, do you know what this is?”
“Mm. It sounds like Pestilence.”
Danny frowned. “Like… pesto?”
Paulina scoffed and whacked Danny on the head. “No, idiot. Pestilence. Like disease and stuff.”
“Yes. Considered by certain branches of Christianity to be one of the four Horsemen that herald the apocalypse.”
“One of four? You mean there’s three other horse-guys?”
“Indeed. The belief in this specific end of days has largely died out in the modern day, so the Horsemen became ghosts. However, they were so dangerous, so suddenly, that we ghosts banded together three hundred years ago to seal them away. If one of them is out…”
“...then the others might be out, too.” Danny rubbed at his forehead. “This gets better and better. What are the other three?”
“War, Famine, and Death,” Paulina said, counting them off on her fingers. Valerie raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Everyone knows that.”
“You are correct, Delicate One.”
“Um, my name’s Paulina.”
“None of those sound good.” Kwan scratched his head. “Also, why is Death separate? Don’t War and Famine and Pestilence all kill people? Does Death extra kill people or something?”
Frostbite shrugged. “How should I know? I’m already dead.”
“Can you be dead if you were never alive?”
“In any event,” Frostbite said, “your best chance is to put Pestilence back before any of the others break free.”
“And how are we supposed to do that, ghost? We barely escaped in the first place!”
Valerie had a point: they knew what they were fighting, now, but it didn’t solve the problem of we can’t beat this guy. Danny rubbed his temples. Maybe if he could get Skulker to work with them, Skulker would help convince the rest of the Ghost Zone and they might actually have a shot.
“Your best chance is finding the Panacea.”
Danny scrunched his eyebrows. “The what?”
“Panacea is, like, a mythical elixir thing that can heal any disease.” Danny, Kwan, and Valerie stared at Paulina, who was tapping on her phone. She looked up at them and rolled her eyes. “What? Everyone knows that.”
“Okay, so where’s this Panaderia at?” Valerie said.
“Patience, Suspicious One. Allow me to explain.”
“What the hell did you just call me?”
“The Panacea is hidden in the far reaches of the Ghost Zone, near Pariah’s Keep.” Frostbite pulled out the Infi-Map from his desk and rolled it out on the desk. “Legend tells that Pariah wanted it for himself, but could never get through its protections.”
“Protections? Like—ghosts and shit?”
“Not quite. The story goes that there are three trials one must overcome to obtain the Panacea. The first is a trial of courage. The second is a trial of compassion. And the third is a trial of truth.”
Valerie threw her hands up in the air. “What the hell does any of that mean?”
“The legend does not specify.”
“Of course,” Paulina said, “because when the world’s at stake, you want as much ambiguity as possible.”
“Quite.”
Courage, compassion, and truth. Well, Danny was decently brave. He spent half his time fighting ghosts, at least, and protecting people. It had to count for something. Compassion… he could probably work on that part, but he did care about people. That’s why he protected them. Truth?
That was a little stickier.
He lied, all the time. It was for a good reason, but he wasn’t sure the trials would see it that way. Maybe he would just have to tell the truth in the moment? Ugh, this whole thing was so complicated.
Maybe Valerie would do better at the truth thing. Though, she also had a secret identity. Whatever. They’d figure it out.
Lost in his thoughts, Danny didn’t notice Valerie approaching him until her hand wrapped around his arm and she pulled him away.
“Woah, what are you—” Danny squeezed his eyes shut as he was yanked back into the bright light of the outside. The snow sparkled in the glow that permeated the Ghost Zone almost like sunlight, but half as warm.
“If you and I are going to do this, we should have a plan.”
“A plan for what? We don’t even know what these trials will look like.”
Valerie’s hand tightened around his bicep. “So you just want to fly in blind? Hide behind me and let me figure it out so you can swoop in and ‘save the day’ or some bullshit?”
“That is not remotely what I—”
“Save it! You’ve been lying to me this whole time. For years. And I—I actually thought that you cared about me, which is the really stupid part.”
“I do care about you, Val.” Danny reached for her arm and she flinched back. He sighed and stared at the ground.
“No, you don’t. You can’t. Ghosts don’t care about anything or anyone. You just like the attention. You like the praise. You may have everyone else fooled but I see what you are. No more tricks, Phantom.”
Danny choked out a laugh. “And you wonder why I lied to you.”
Valerie sneered. “No, actually. It all makes perfect sense, ghost.”
His eyes stung, which was stupid. They really didn’t have time for him to go cry in a corner because Valerie didn’t like him. But his feelings didn’t care about the facts, and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.
“Whatever,” he said, and he tried to ignore how his voice cracked. “Let’s just get through this.”
“Yeah,” Valerie said. “Let’s get through this and then never talk to each other again.”
He’d really thought he could talk to her, if she ever found out. He’d really thought he could convince her. That hurt the most, he realized: he’d always known she’d be mad, but after what happened with Dani, there should’ve been room for them to be friends as Valerie and Danny and as Red Huntress and Phantom.
He was the stupid one, it turned out.
“Okay. If that’s what you want.”
Valerie turned away. “It is what I want.”
“Okay.”
They fell into awkward silence.
“So—”
Distant screaming cut Danny off.
Somewhere along the way, wires had gotten crossed in Danny’s brain. Screams of terror and pain were usually a sign that people should stay away. If some did get closer, it was usually out of curiosity and panic would take over once that curiosity was sated. Danny, of course, ran straight for the danger every time.
So he wasn’t surprised, exactly, when one of the yetis, eyes dripping black, lunged for him. He’d run into enough fights that ducking out of the way of her claws was second nature. Beside him, Valerie blasted the infected yeti away. Of course. Valerie was just like him: she ran into danger.
“We need to get out of here!” She fired again at another yeti, snarling in the snow.
Danny reached for the electric cold in his chest, but it was still weak and flickering from the gun his mom had used. He was powerless.
“Danny!” Before he could blink, something slammed into him and he was speeding away from the yetis on Valerie’s jetboard.
“Wait—Wait!” Struggling to stand on a fast, open-air vehicle, he pulled himself up using Valerie’s shoulder and she shot him a withering glare. “We can’t just leave them there!”
“Us getting infected doesn’t help anyone, and you trying to play hero to get on my good side won’t work anyway.”
“I’m not—” The jetboard tilted to avoid a leaping yeti. “Why won’t you listen—”
“I did listen to you! And you lied. So I’m done with that.”
Valerie angled down to the cave entrance where Kwan, Paulina, and Frostbite were and jerked to a stop. Danny couldn’t stop his momentum and tumbled off onto the floor of the cave, landing at Paulina’s feet.
“Um, hi?” Paulina said.
“We have a problem,” Valerie said.
--
Apparently the “problem” was a horde of zombie yetis right on Valerie and Danny’s tail. Paulina thought “problem” was underselling it a bit.
One black-eyed yeti burst through the opening, only for Frostbite to slam his flesh arm into it, knocking it into another oncoming yeti. He then hit a panel on the wall and sealed the cave shut. Panting, he lumbered over to Danny, green goo staining his pristine white fur, grabbed the map-thing off the desk, and thrust it into Danny’s arms.
“Great One and friends, you must take the Infi-Map and find the Panacea.” The yeti looked down at the goo (his blood?) and groaned in pain. “I fear I shall soon turn as well.”
“Frostbite…” Danny said, reaching out one hand like he wanted to comfort him. And wasn’t it weird, to think of a ghost needing comfort?
“Great One, you do not have time to worry about me. Help me by bringing back the Panacea and saving us all. You must go now, before I lose my rationality and attack you as well.”
Danny squeezed his eyes like he was staving off tears. “Okay. I—okay. I’m sorry.”
Paulina felt bad for the dork (hero), really, but they so didn’t have time for this. She latched onto his arm and yanked him away from Frostbite, who was starting to snarl. “Thank you, Mr. Frostbite,” she said. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“Everybody hang on,” Danny said, opening the map. Paulina tightened her grip as Valerie and Kwan grabbed on. “Take us to the Panacea.”
Frostbite jumped at them, teeth bared, and the map whisked them away in a green light. Paulina wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this was not it. The sudden acceleration stole a scream from her throat, and the rush of air brought tears to her eyes. The last thing she saw was Frostbite’s icy arm, outstretched, and then she could see nothing but motion.
There was nothing to do but hang on for dear life, then all of a sudden they were standing again, in a cavernous hall. Paulina wobbled on her feet, then vomited.
A hand rubbed at her back, and she turned to see Kwan, awkward half-smile on his face. “You okay?”
The hall was massive and crumbling, stone pillars in pieces. A mosaic pattern tiled the floor, and she looked up to see a perfect reflection in the roof, except for a couple of holes where the swirling Ghost Zone peeked through.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Except for, you know.”
“Everything?”
“Yeah, that.” She bent over and spat a couple times, trying to get the taste out of her mouth. She’d lost her water bottle sometime in the multiple life threatening situations they’d been in in the past 4 or so hours, so saliva was her best option. “We weren’t supposed to be here. We were supposed to just sit there in that frozen wasteland and be safe. I can’t do this, Kwan.”
“But you have to, now,” Valerie said. Her voice was firm, but not unkind. “We’re all here, and there’s no half-assing this like you half-ass school, alright?”
“Excuse you?”
“We both know you could do just fine in school if you tried, Polly! You’re smart, girl. And we need smart on this mission, not smart trying to be stupid.”
Paulina stared for just a moment, then laughed. “Girl, that was the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever heard.”
Valerie rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched like she was trying not to smile. “At least it was a compliment.”
“Setting our bar real low here, huh?”
“Paulina, when my dad lost his job, you all dumped me as soon as you heard. I lost everything, and then I lost all my friends. You’re damn lucky I’m not just cussing you out.”
The words were almost humorous, but there was a bite to Valerie’s tone now. Paulina couldn’t blame her.
“Listen, I wanted to say—”
“Guys!” Danny's voice echoed through the chamber. “I found something!”
Paulina swore as Valerie and Kwan both ran over to where Danny stood in front of a massive double door.
“Is that—”
“Yeah,” Danny said. “I think it’s the entrance. The trials are probably through here.”
“So,” Kwan said, pushing on the giant stone doors, “how do we—”
As he spoke, the doors lit up and slowly, slowly, rumbled open.
“Huh,” Kwan said.
It was dark inside. The glow of the Ghost Zone seemed to come to a complete halt, swallowed by whatever was beyond the threshold.
Paulina didn’t like it.
“Let’s all go through together,” Danny said.
Paulina nodded, grabbing Danny and Kwan. She couldn’t speak, her mouth suddenly dry. Why was she here? She wasn’t ready for something like this. She couldn’t save the world! Oh god, she needed to get out of here—
As one, they stepped through the door.
--
Kwan blinked.
“What?”
It was the Casper High cafeteria, except the Casper High cafeteria should be overrun with Pestilence’s zombies right now. But there was Dash and Paulina and Star (wasn’t Paulina back—where—what—what… day was it? Tuesday? Right, right. They had an essay due in Lancer’s class. Of course. Kwan had stayed up all night writing about… writing about…)
“Dude!” Dash said, waving Kwan over. “You ready to pummel Brantford tonight?” The last part of his sentence became a shout, directed at the whole cafeteria. Students applauded. Dash stood with one leg on his seat and one on the table, a true showman. Over in the corner, Danny Fenton, Sam Manson, and Tucker Foley rolled their eyes. Dash threw his milk carton and beaned Fenton (Danny?) in the head. Milk splashed down his head.
Something twisted in Kwan’s gut.
Dash let out a roar and ripped off his shirt, tearing it in half. The cafeteria screamed in approval.
Kwan grinned up at Dash. For all his flaws, Kwan loved this guy.
(black, black blood dripping from his mouth and eyes, Dash snarling, reaching for Kwan—)
Kwan jerked back and tore his eyes away. Dash didn’t notice as his best friend looked for the exit. Kwan’s heart pounded. It wasn’t real. Not real. Just a bad dream. Or was this…?
In the background, Valerie (his friend? not his friend? no, no, they’d dropped her because she’d lost everything, right? but no, no that was cruel, too cruel even for Dash and Paulina, that couldn’t be right) was sneaking out the door just as Danny Fenton gasped and rushed in the same direction.
Something wasn’t right.
“Hey dude,” Kwan said, “I gotta run to the bathroom.”
Dash didn’t acknowledge him. He was leading the cafeteria in the Casper High fight song.
Kwan ran after Valerie and Fenton (Danny), bursting through the cafeteria doors just in time to see them turn the corner. “Wait!” he said, sprinting toward their shadows. Rounding the corner, he saw the Red Huntress and Danny Phantom (Valerie and Fenton—Danny, Danny, it’s Danny, Danny wants to be called his name, remember that he has to remember that—it was Valerie and Danny behind the heroes, he knew that, though he wasn’t sure how he knew) fighting a ghost.
It was massive and ugly, all claws and teeth and glowing fur. Kwan couldn’t see any eyes, but he’d learned after years of dealing with ghosts that that didn’t necessarily mean that it couldn’t see. It had six legs and two jaws that opened in concert to let out an earsplitting screech.
Glowing green spittle flew out of its unholy maw and landed on Kwan’s letterman jacket. Gross.
The ghost slammed Danny into a locker with one leg and used another to pin Valerie to the ground. It lowered its face to Valerie’s, ready to take a taste.
“Hey!” Kwan said, throwing the first thing he could grab—his phone—at the ghost. It bounced harmlessly off its head, but startled the ghost enough that Valerie was able to slip out of its hold and Danny was able to knock it down. A flash of light from Danny’s thermos, and the ghost was gone.
“Are you okay?” Kwan said. Valerie’s suit retracted and Danny transformed back into Fenton. Both of them were bruised, Danny cradling his ribs, but they were upright.
“We’re fine,” Valerie said with a glare.
“Hey,” Kwan said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Yeah, right.” Danny snorted and looked away. Kwan could still see milk in his hair.
Kwan frowned. “Look, I know it wasn’t much, but I’m just a guy! I did what I could!”
“Yeah, you did. Probably saved our lives with that phone.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“You only care because we’re heroes!” Valerie got in his face so he could clearly see the bruise lining her cheek. “You wouldn’t care if we were hurt because your bestie decided he wanted a punching bag. Helping the Red Huntress and Danny Phantom isn’t a risk to you. It makes you a hero! You’re so cool for helping to save the day. But you’d never help Valerie and Danny because what if someone saw ?”
“That’s not…”
“Face it, Kwan. You’re a coward. Always will be.”
Then they were gone, and Kwan was alone in the middle of a destroyed hallway.
--
“Kwan,” Dash said, “we need you to be on your a-game for this. They’ve got a real beast on their D-line, and you’re the only one with a chance of keeping him off me. I don’t wanna spend the whole game with my ass on the grass, so I’m counting on you, okay?”
Kwan blinked. They were huddled on the field, in full pads. Dash was giving the pre-game directions. It was gametime. Wasn’t it lunchtime? Or… was he… what?
“Kwan!”
“Uh, yeah! Yes. I’ve got it. Big guy, coming right at me. Yep.”
Was he going crazy? Something was wrong. Something other than what Valerie and Danny had said to him.
(And it was wrong, it had to be. He wasn’t a coward. He faced scary stuff all the time—a hazard of living in Amity Park. He couldn’t be a coward.)
The nameless d-lineman stared him down, eyes black as pitch behind the grill of his helmet. Kwan took a deep breath as he lined up against him. He could do this. This was easy. He was made for this.
A flash of green in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He turned his head just as Dash hiked the ball, and his mark blew right past him, laying Dash on the ground while Kwan stood, dumbly staring at the green he knew had to signal another ghost attack.
“Kwan!” Dash ignored the hand offered by one of the other offensive linemen. “What the hell, dude?”
Kwan jerked back. “What?” He took in the scene: Dash, with a clump of grass stuck in his helmet and dirt on his jersey. The ball, being moved backward by the referee. His teammates, glaring at him. “Oh. Oh, sorry. Just—I think there’s a ghost over there?” He pointed at the green light.
“So?” Dash said. “There’s always a ghost. Leave it for Huntress or Phantom to deal with. We’ve got a game!”
“Yeah. Yeah!” Danny and Valerie could totally handle it. They were heroes. It’s what they did. And football was what Kwan did. Division of labor and all that stuff.
And the thing is that Kwan was really good at football. He was the best left tackle in the state, easy. His coach said he could be the next Tony Boselli—though, hopefully without the injuries. With his mind on the game, no one got even close to Dash before he’d thrown the ball.
The forest glowed again. Kwan ignored it. There were eight minutes left on the clock for the second quarter.
A piercing scream floated over the field. Kwan turned to see Valerie, in her Red Huntress gear, slam into the ground head-first before being dragged back into the woods like a limp puppet.
“Oh shit.” This was bad. Valerie was hurt, bad. She wasn’t half-ghost like Danny. She was just a person. She needed medical care, and fast.
Could Kwan help?
Should Kwan help?
Kwan shook his head. Head injuries were no joke; he’d heard it from Coach often enough. Valerie needed help, and she needed it now. There was no time to wait for someone else to realize the problem.
He turned to leave the field.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dash said, catching his arm just as he reached the sideline.
“She’s hurt,” Kwan said. “She needs help.”
“We have a fucking game to play.” Dash’s fingers curled in the grill of Kwan’s helmet and jerking him around so their helmets clacked together. This close, Kwan could see the faint line of Dash’s eyelashes, the bright blue of his eyes. He thought about apologizing. He thought about kissing him.
How long had he been in love with his best friend? More importantly, how long had he let his best friend be an asshole because he loved him?
“I’m an idiot,” Kwan said.
“You don’t hear me arguing! Now get back on the damn field.”
“No.” Kwan almost continued, almost listed everything wrong with Dash, all the times he’d put everyone else around him down, all the people he’d hurt, how he’d hurt Kwan, even, but Dash would never, ever hear him. He knew that now. “I’m outta here,” he said instead, ripping off his helmet and sprinting toward where he’d last seen Valerie and Danny.
The world vanished.
Kwan blinked, and he was back in the chamber, staring at Valerie, Danny, and Paulina. “A test of courage…” he said to himself.
It was just like the room they first came into: a little more together, more whole, but otherwise almost identical. Across the room was another massive set of double doors. He turned around and saw the door, the first chamber beyond it. He’d barely stepped inside. It couldn’t have been more than a second or two.
“Yeah,” Valerie said with an eye roll, “that’s what we’ve been say—”
Kwan cut her off by sweeping her up in a hug.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry that I never stuck up for you. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I was too scared to help you even when I knew it was wrong.”
Valerie froze, stiff in his arms. “What?”
“You were right, this whole time. I was a coward and a jerk and I’m sorry.”
Kwan could feel Danny and Paulina’s eyes on him, but for right now, all his focus was on Valerie.
“What the hell are you—”
“I was a really terrible friend to you. We all were. You were hurting and we all made it worse.”
Valerie pulled back. “You’re serious. This… you mean this.”
“Yeah. I mean it more than anything I’ve ever said to you before.
“You—do you think I’ll forgive you? Just like that?”
Kwan let her go. “No. You always could hold a grudge.” He looked her in the eye. “I still needed to say it.”
Valerie nodded, a rough jerk of her head. “Okay. Just so we’re clear. Not forgiven.” She looked off-balance and confused. It figured, since Kwan had very much just dropped this on her with no warning. Whatever vision he’d received, it seemed like it was limited to him and only him.
“That’s okay. Let me know if it changes?”
Valerie stared at him for a long moment, brow furrowed, before it smoothed and one corner of her lips curled in a smile. “Whatever.”
Kwan grinned. “I’ll get there.”
Paulina coughed. “Uh, not to break up a tender moment, but can we save it for after we get the magic potion?”
“Unfortunately, Paulina’s right,” Danny said. “Not that this isn’t great, but we need to figure out the test of courage. We’re running out of time.”
Kwan was pretty sure he’d already seen it, but he didn’t even know where to begin with explaining. Instead, he said, “Danny! You, too! I was also a jerk to you, when you didn’t deserve it and I knew you didn’t deserve it. I’m so sorry about that. I wanted to be liked but I—”
“Woah woah woah,” Danny said. “I… appreciate it, but we really don’t have the time right now, dude.”
“No. No, see, this is exactly the time. I think this is my test, okay? Well, some of it. Part two, or whatever. Part one was this weird vision thing that I had to go through like some kinda fucked up dream. And I think part two is—well, bringing it into the real world.” Obviously, he couldn’t bring the ghost attack and the football game into this real world, but realizing he was wrong? Taking responsibility?
He could do that.
“How is apologizing to us a test of courage?” Danny said, head tilted in confusion.
“I was scared of… something really fucking dumb, now that I think about it. And I hurt people because of it.” Kwan glanced at Paulina, who was looking anywhere but his face. “I’m not going to let it control me anymore. And I’m sorry that I ever did.”
Silence for a moment, like the room was holding its breath, then the entire chamber began to shake. The doors at the end of the room swung open and revealed another pitch black unknown beyond them.
“Wait. That was it?” Paulina said. “You’re telling me the Ghost King couldn’t get through these trials, but Kwan did it by saying I’m sorry?”
“Woo!” Kwan said, pumping his fists in the air. Take that, Mr. Lancer’s final exam. Who was going to achieve nothing in life now? Not Kwan, he passed the Trial of Courage. Official and capitalized. Helping to save the world and all that shit.
“Well, let’s not look this particular gift horse in the mouth. Are we all ready for the next chamber?” Danny said.
Paulina coughed. “Hang on, does anyone have a breath mint? My mouth still tastes nasty.”
“Oh, yeah.” Kwan fished in his pocket and held out a stick of gum.
“Thanks.”
“Ooh, can I have some?” Danny said.
“Sure, dude!” He grabbed three more sticks of gum, handed on to Danny, who grinned, stuck one in his mouth, and held out the last one for Valerie. “Val? You want in on this?”
Valerie stared at the gum like she thought it might bite her. “Yeah,” she said after a moment. She took the gum with her thumb and forefinger, delicately. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “Let’s get a move on.”
As they headed for the inky blackness at the far end of the room, Kwan felt something grab his arm. He whirled around to see Danny, hand curled around Kwan’s elbow.
“Thank you,” Danny said, “for, y’know.”
“The gum?”
“No. Well, yes, but that’s not—I meant for apologizing.”
“Oh. Oh! Yeah. Honestly, should have done it forever ago. Just kept coming up with excuses, y’know?” Kwan laughed. “An apology was really the bare minimum.”
Danny let go of his arm and started walking again. “You’d be surprised. I can’t remember the last time anyone apologized for hurting me.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“Dude, that’s messed—”
They crossed the threshold.
--
Paulina was much more confident going into the next chamber. These trials were easy! If all Kwan had to do was apologize, then compassion was probably something like saving a kitten and truth was something like—well, she was less sure about that one. Maybe just telling a secret? Or something?
Except—something was different. Last time, they’d walked in and immediately the chamber had brightened. Kwan apparently had some weird vision as part of his trial, of course, but none of that happened.
Instead, it was still pitch black, and she could no longer feel Valerie’s arm where she’d latched on, or Kwan’s hand. “Guys?” she said, and her voice was swallowed by the void. “Hello?”
“—see her haircut?—”
“—the look on his—”
“—honestly thought I liked her!”
Paulina’s voice, first a whisper, then louder and louder until she couldn’t hear her own thoughts. Her laughter, shrill and piercing, reverberated through the space. She pressed her hands over her ears, but it did nothing to block out the noise. Her head started to pound and hot tears leaked out of her eyes.
“Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” She was sure she yelled the words, but she still couldn’t hear over her own laughter.
“Why? Why should I stop?”
“It hurts. It hurts!”
“Aw, but that’s never stopped you before!”
It was so loud. A sudden, sharp pain in her ear and she could feel warm liquid on the hand covering it.
“Please! Please! I’ll do anything!”
Suddenly, silence. Paulina fell to the floor with relief. She pulled her hands away from her head; the right one was wet and smelled of metal. Liquid dripped from her ear—had it started to bleed?
“Anything?”
“Yes! Yes, please!”
“Entertain me!”
“I—what?”
In front of her, stark against the black of the room, Valerie appeared, then Danny, then Mikey, then Sam Manson, then Tucker Foley, more and more and more of her classmates, standing and blinking in confusion at her.
But she was with Valerie and—or was she? But Manson was definitely not—this couldn’t be real. Was this real? She stared at her hand. Was she real?
“Paulina?” Valerie said. She sounded like she was underwater. The black of the room turned into a hallway. Casper High. It was—Friday. There was a football game she had to cheer for. She needed total focus for that. If only the stupid voice would leave her alone.
“I said entertain me!”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Valerie stared at her. “It’s your name, girl. Are you okay?”
“Make jokes! Like you always do. I gave you your material and everything!”
Material? Paulina looked at the crowd, and realized that all of them were… well, losers. The voice just wanted her to make fun of them?
Nothing she hadn’t done before.
“I’m better than you, apparently,” Paulina said, ignoring the pit in her stomach. “What were you thinking with that outfit?” It was a dumb, dumb comment. Low effort. It was just—in that moment, Paulina couldn’t think of anything to mock. Nothing about Valerie seemed worth jeering at.
Valerie looked down at her—admittedly, fine—shirt and frowned. “Jesus. What is your prob—your ear’s bleeding!”
Sure enough, pus and blood painted the palm of Paulina’s hand, and she could still feel something rolling down her neck.
(“Still”? When did this happen?)
“We need to get you to the nurse’s office,” Manson said, crouching down beside her. Why was Paulina on the floor?
“Oh,” she said. Manson offered her a hand up, and she took it. “Thank you. Sorry, Valerie. Your shirt’s fine.”
A piercing screech, metal on metal, filled the air. Paulina doubled over, hands back over her ears.
“That wasn’t funny, Polly!”
She could feel hands on her arms, but her eyes were squeezed shut and she could hear nothing but the voice and its (her) hideous laughter.
“You just want me to be mean!”
“Duh! Mean is funny, right?”
Paulina opened her eyes just enough to see Valerie, Manson, Foley, and Danny in front of her, concern in the lines of their faces. Danny’s mouth was moving.
“Look! It’s the little tech weirdo. He names all his phones. Like, unironically.” Foley stood up and directed other students away. Danny moved past her to do the same on the other side of the hallway. “Or the ghost kid. His parents were already freaks, and now he’s an extra special kind of freak. Easy money.”
“Please. Please just stop.”
“Entertain me, and I will. Tit-for-tat, babe.”
Paulina felt a sob jump out of her throat. Why wasn’t she just doing it? It hurt so bad. She’d do anything for it to stop.
So why wasn’t she doing this?
“I don’t want to!” she wailed. What she must sound like. What she must look like. Surrounded by people who had every reason to hate her, bleeding and crying and talking to nothing. “Pick something else!”
“But you do it all the time.”
“I change my mind, then!”
Was it that simple? All along? Could she just—change her mind? Be a better person?
“No you don’t.”
“I don’t want to hurt people anymore!”
The noise, somehow, got louder. Paulina vomited. Something wet trickled from her other ear. She wanted this to end. But she didn’t want to hurt people to do it. Why did she only get two options?
“So you’ll get hurt instead?”
“No!” She curled in on herself, falling back to her knees and closing her eyes again. “You’re choosing to hurt me. You could choose not to!”
“And, what? That’ll make it better? You’ll forgive me and we’ll be best friends?”
If Paulina could think clearly, if she could do anything beyond speak the first thing that sprung to her lips, she might have lied. She might have said “Of course I’ll forgive you” so the stupid voice might listen to her. This, however, was not a choice she had the brainpower to make right now.
Instead, she said: “Of course not! You’re a fucking asshole.”
“Then why should I?”
“Because I’m a person and it hurts!”
“You’re a little late to that realization, querida. Wasn’t Valerie a person when you ditched her? Do you think you can be Valerie’s friend again after this? That you can prove yourself to her or something?”
“I can’t fix it! But I can stop making it worse!”
The noise stopped. Blessed silence returned.
Paulina looked up through tear-blurred eyes and saw Valerie, Danny, and Kwan crouched over her. She couldn’t hear past the ringing in her ears
“I’m sorry,” she said. Her throat ached. She must have been yelling, before. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
The exhaustion hit her all at once. Her ears pulsed with pain as she continued to babble apologies. The ground shook beneath her and Kwan caught her before she could topple over. A hand rubbed at her back, soothing circles, and she curled into Kwan’s chest.
“Think ‘m gon’ sleep, now, mkay?” she said, and then she was out.
--
“Holy shit,” Danny said, collapsing next to Paulina and Kwan and brushing the hair out of her face. “Is she—is she okay?”
Kwan held his fingers over her wrists. “I think so. Her ears are bleeding, though.”
“What happened?” Valerie said. “Your trial wasn’t anything like this!”
“I don’t know! It’s not like I’m an expert.”
“Stop yelling,” Paulina said, shifting against Kwan’s chest. “I can’t really hear you anyway.”
“Polly!” Kwan said, naked relief on his face. “Are you okay?”
Paulina pointed to her ears. “I can’t hear you, querido. My ears—it was really loud. In the trial.”
Dried blood still stained her neck. Danny had a feeling that “really loud” was an understatement.
In halting sentences, Paulina explained her trial. The voice, the laughter, the deal for making the pain stop. Danny was impressed; he wasn’t sure he would have withstood it, in her position. He could understand, now, how Pariah wouldn’t have made it through the trials.
They asked questions throughout, which Paulina couldn’t hear. It got a little better when they spoke slower and enunciated, but it would be a struggle until her ears healed, Danny feared.
“Let’s go over what we know,” Danny said, counting off on his fingers. “One, in both of the trials, only one person was picked to do the trial. Two, neither of you remembered it was a trial while it was happening, right?”
Kwan and Paulina both shook their heads, though Paulina winced as she did it. “It felt real,” Kwan said. “Like—I knew something was wrong, but whenever I tried to focus on that wrongness, it vanished.”
“I knew it was a trial at first,” Paulina said, throat scratchy, “but when it got too loud, I couldn’t really think straight. Then I was in school, and I completely forgot about the trial thing, even though the noise was still there. I forgot it wasn’t supposed to be there.”
Danny wanted to apologize to Paulina, for getting her involved in this, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t exactly appreciate it. She looked rough. Dried tear-streaks on her face that she hadn’t wiped off yet, hair a mess like she tried to rip it out, blood trails from her ears. They were pretty sure she’d burst both eardrums during her trial.
(It was a little over-the-top, Danny thought, to torture someone in a trial of compassion. Paulina had her flaws, sure, but that didn’t mean she needed to be hurt to learn a lesson. Kwan’s trial had really lulled them all into a false sense of security.)
(He could see, now, why Pariah Dark could never make it through.)
“Three, the trials seem to pick people on purpose.” His eyes slid over to Kwan and Paulina. “I think it picks based on those who… struggle the most with the thing the trial is all about.”
“Huh?” Paulina said. Right. She could only kind of hear right now.
“He said the trials picked us because I’m a coward and you’re mean.”
Danny winced. “That’s not—”
“Oh. Well, duh.”
“So, if truth’s next, it’ll be you, right?” Valerie said, looking Danny up and down.
“Hey!”
“You’re the one with the big secrets here.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you forget that you have a secret identity, too?” Danny felt like Valerie was probably right, all things considered. His secret was, ultimately, way bigger than hers.
Still, she was getting on his nerves. He’d known she had a grudge against ghosts, especially him, but this was getting ridiculous. For fuck’s sake, she’d worked better with him on Skulker’s island, when she thought he was a full ghost.
“No, but my dad knows all about it. And so did you, apparently, though you lied about that, too.”
“Oh, wow, two whole people. Except that I told your dad, not you. And you never told me anything! I happened to find out on my own.”
“Uh, guys?” Kwan said.
Valerie rolled her eyes. “Okay, yeah. But we broke up because I didn’t want to endanger you. And now it turns out you can take care of yourself just fine!”
“Oh, so if you knew I was half dead, we’d still be together? That’s my fault now?”
“Of course we wouldn’t. But I lied to you to protect you. You lied to me to protect yourself!”
“Yeah! I did! Now think for, like, two seconds about what I needed protection from!”
“Guys!” Kwan said. “Could you stop?”
“You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe it will be me. But not because I lie more than you. Maybe these tests are meant for humans only.”
Danny felt his eyes flash green. “So that’s what this is about? You hate me because I’m a freak?”
“I hate you because—”
“Okay!” Kwan said, jumping between them. “I think this conversation needs to stop immediately, before you both say… even more things you will regret. Valerie, dude, I know we’re just now trying to maybe be friends again, but as your maybe-future friend: you’ve gotta lay off.”
Danny stared and blinked at Kwan a couple times. Was Kwan… defending him?
“You’re taking his side?”
“Yeah, I am. I think you both need to cool down, but you’re wrong about this. And I think you know it, too.”
Valerie huffed. “I’m not wrong.”
Danny was so, so tired. “Okay.” He turned away and walked over to Paulina, who was still on the ground, and offered her a hand.
She stared up at him before grabbing on and pulling herself up. “She is wrong. She’s just… stubborn.”
Danny sighed. “You heard all that?”
“Bits and pieces. I got the gist. Hey, do you think the Panacea will fix my ears?” Danny opened his mouth to reply, but Paulina kept talking. “Never mind. What I mean is: sorry you had to hear that. I know you care about her, you know? It must really suck to hear this stuff from her in particular.”
“Yeah, I knew she wouldn’t take it well, but I didn’t think she’d take it this badly. I mean, she was okay with Danielle!”
“I’ll be real with you, I only caught like half of that, but, uh, who’s Danielle?”
Oh, duh. Danny smacked himself in the face. “Right, sorry. Danielle’s my half-ghost cousin. Well, we call each other cousins, but technically she’s my clone. She’s her own person, and all that but—yeah. Anyway, the guy who cloned her is also a giant asshole and he was planning to melt her down to study her remains, but Valerie helped me save her.” This time, he spoke a bit louder, and made sure to enunciate so Paulina could try to read his lips too.
“Dude. You have a clone?”
“Yeah.”
“Someone cloned you?”
“Yeah.”
“What the fuck?”
Danny laughed. “Yeah, that’s about right. He’s a real fruitloop, that Vlad.”
“Hang on—not Vlad Masters?”
Danny laughed harder. “Yep!”
“What the fuck, babe!”
“You’re telling me.”
“Why?”
Danny started to answer, then thought better of it. It was, after all, a long story, and he had a feeling that, although she was great at faking it, Paulina was still only catching parts of what he said. “I’ll tell you when your ears are better,” he said, tugging on his own then pointing at hers to make his point clearer.
Paulina rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that! This is some juicy, juicy gossip”—Danny flashed her a panicked look—“that I will take to my grave and never speak of again.”
Paulina kept talking as they rejoined Kwan and Valerie. Mostly jokes about how he should change his ghostly outfit (“Seriously, querido, you’d look great in a crop-top!”) or about him out-gothing Sam (“You went and died! Manson will never be that hardcore.”).
Maybe he and Paulina could be friends after this.
--
Valerie was sure she was right.
She was sure she was right as she and Kwan waited in stony silence for Paulina and—for the others to join them. She was sure she was right as they walked in a group, the other three linking arms while she refused Kwan’s hand. She was sure she was right as they crossed into the black.
She was less sure when the room stayed dark.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” she said. She worried at her lip for a moment, then yelled, “I’m the Red Huntress! Is that the truth this thing wants?”
“Uh, yeah,” Danny said. “I already know that, Val.”
Valerie grinned, just a little. It wasn’t like anyone could see her, and the fact that he was here, too? Vindicating. “Well, look at that. It’s both of us!”
“Yeah? It’s both of us. Together. In some strange room. In the dark.”
“Okay, well I said my big truth. You say yours.”
“What? Why?”
“We need to get through this trial, dumbass!”
“Trial?”
“Yeah, the truth trial. Obviously we’re both in it—wait. You don’t know it’s a trial! Ha, then this is totally your trial and I just got pulled in for… reasons. I knew it!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why is it so dark? Where are we?”
Valerie waved him off, though he couldn’t see it. “Oh, that’s not important. What is important is that you need to tell the truth. Probably to me, which is why I’m here.” Yeah, that made sense. He needed to tell the truth about how he’d hurt her, how he’d hurt everyone, how he’d played hero to earn his fawning fans. He needed to stop pretending to be something he wasn’t. And she was here because she deserved to hear it directly from him.
“What truth? Again, Val, what are you talking about?”
“Stop calling me Val. We’re not friends.”
“What do you—”
“Did the trial make you forget? I know you’re a ghost.”
“Oh.”
“I destroy ghosts.”
“But… But I’m also a human.”
“You’re a liar, is what you are.”
“For good reason.”
“No, I’m a liar for good reason. You’re just a coward!”
There was a long moment of silence where Valerie could only hear her own heaving breaths. Then, softly: “Wouldn’t you be?”
“No!”
“Really? You wouldn’t be the slightest bit afraid that people would try to kill you?”
“No one would kill you.”
“You said you know I’m a ghost and then immediately threatened to destroy me.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Oh? How was I supposed to take ‘I destroy ghosts’ then? A joke?”
“Stop trying to turn this around on me. You’re the one who needs to tell the truth!”
“What truth? You already know the secret!”
“I’m talking about the rest of it! How you lie and manipulate people, how you fake being a hero, how you ruined my life!”
“Is that what you think?”
“Yes.”
“Is that really what you think?”
“I don’t think. I know.”
“Gah! It’s impossible to talk to you about this shit.” There was a rustling sound, like he was walking away.
“Hang on! You can’t walk away; you still need to complete your trial!” She ran to where she heard him moving, tripped, and then she was falling, falling, falling…
…and landing with a thud in the same black void.
“She’s a ghost! And I destroy ghosts.”
“But she’s also a human!”
Was that… her? Back when they had been talking about Danielle. Danielle, who was human and ghost and just a little girl. Valerie and—they had saved her from Vlad, who was also human and ghost.
“Was this a trick, too? Was Danielle a liar, too?” she yelled. No answer. “Where the hell did you go? We aren’t done here!”
“Valerie?”
Valerie twitched. That voice—
There, bright and glowing against the blackness of the room, was Danielle.
“Valerie!” Danielle said with a grin, flying forward and giving her a hug. Valerie returned it with stiff arms.
“Hey, you… Uh, I’m looking for your… cousin. Do you know where he is?”
“Danny? No, I haven’t seen him in ages. I’m kinda off exploring the world, y’know? Anyway, how’ve you been?”
“I’m—good. Look, I really need to find him.”
Danielle floated up and shrugged. “Well, he’s not here, but I can help you look.”
Valerie nodded. “Thanks, kid. And, uh, would you mind changing back to human?”
“Huh?” Danielle landed on whatever passed for the ground in this featureless void. “Why?”
“It’s just—uncomfortable, is all.”
Something strange passed across Danielle’s face.
“Oh. Well, I mean, I’ll be a lot faster if I can fly.”
Valerie clenched her fists. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.
Danielle’s answering smile was tense as she lifted herself through the air. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”
“Wait, if you leave how will”—Danielle zoomed away with an impressive burst of speed—“we find each other. Great.” Valerie groaned and slumped to the ground. “They just keep running away, huh?”
“Yeah,” Star said, “I wonder why that is.”
Star and Valerie were on a hill, watching the stars. Star was really good at finding constellations, seeing connections where Valerie saw points, seeing a picture where Valerie saw light pollution, so stargazing was always fun with her. She’d always loved space because of her name, she said. She wanted to know all about what she was named after.
The moon was full and bright. Valerie could see Star clearly, half-swallowed by the long grass. It was a cool, pleasant night. Peaceful, in all the ways Valerie was not.
(She was looking for someone. To do… something.)
“It’s ‘cause they know I’m right,” Valerie said.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you need to be less sure.”
“What are you—”
And Valerie was falling again.
--
Detention with Lancer. Never fun, not even when he kicked his feet up and fell asleep. She and Phantom had both gotten it for skipping class to fight ghosts. The ghost himself was sitting in the back of the class, balancing his pencil on his nose and staring out the window.
After a long moment of silence, Phantom said, “You don’t have any questions for me?”
“Already know all the answers.”
“Oh yeah? Then why’d I fight Pariah Dark?”
“For attention.”
“I thought I would die.” Phantom’s tone was light, conversational. This isn’t a big deal to him, just a fact. “Like, all the way. I thought that suit was gonna kill me if Pariah didn’t kill me first.”
“You’re lying.”
The pencil fell to the desk with a clatter. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Whenever I say anything you can’t argue against, you just claim I’m lying.”
“It’s because you’re a liar,” Valerie said without thinking.
“See! There you go again. Not addressing my actual point, just deflecting.”
Valerie opened her mouth to refute again, then paused. Calling the ghost a liar had become reflex. She didn’t have to think about anything he said if it was all a lie, after all. Then again… “But you did lie to me.”
“Yeah. I’ve been lying to everyone for years now.”
“So why should I trust you?”
Phantom shrugged. “Have I ever hurt anyone?”
“That doesn’t mean you won’t start.”
“You could say the same thing about literally anyone, though.”
“You ruined my life!”
“You told me you liked being a ghost hunter. That you like your life as it is right now. Was that a lie?”
Valerie grit her teeth. “No.”
“Then why are you so upset with me?”
“Because you lied!” Valerie yanked her hair in frustration. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“Not because I’m a ghost?”
“No!”
Valerie gasped even as the word came out of her mouth. Lancer grumbled in his sleep at the front of the classroom and shifted to the side. Phantom grinned at her, showing off the fangs in his mouth.
“Wait, no, that’s not… I’m also mad because of the ghost thing! Ghosts are evil.”
“Am I evil?”
Yes, she wanted to say, but her lips wouldn’t form the word.
“Is Danielle evil?”
Danielle, screaming, dissolving into goo, and Valerie put her there—
“No.”
“Are you angry? Or are you using anger to cover the hurt?”
“I—I’m not—”
And Valerie was falling again.
--
“One of these days, ghost,” Jack Fenton said, shaking his fist, “I’m going to catch you and rip you apart molecule by molecule!”
“She’s a ghost!” Valerie said. “And I destroy ghosts!”
“Ghosts are nothing but the imprint of a human consciousness manifesting in ectoplasm after death,” Maddie Fenton said, shocking the ghost on her table as it screamed. “They don’t actually feel anything.”
And then—
Frostbite slammed the door closed, even though he got infected. Even though he was a full ghost and shouldn’t have cared about them at all.
And Danielle flew away, young and eager to explore the world. A child, who’d never really been free before.
And Danny—
Danny laughing with her. Danny hiding with her from Dash and Nathan. Danny forgiving her for being mean in school. Danny begging her to help him save Danielle (a child, who’d done nothing wrong and Valerie had given her away to a man who would destroy her). Danny, just as invested in protecting that stupid flour sack for their grade. Danny, revealing her to her dad, smug little grin on his face. Danny, who could’ve died that day and no one would have ever known what he’d done for them.
Something ached in her heart.
“No,” she said, choking on a sob, as the scenery around her changed again. “No, I can’t be this wrong.”
She was in a lab, now. Jack and Maddie Fenton stood to her left. To her right stood two GiW agents. On the table in front of her, strapped down, was Phantom.
Was Danny.
“Ms. Gray,” one of the agents said, “we were so pleased when you brought us your capture. Such a unique specimen will fuel our research for decades.”
Valerie swallowed. Danny stared at her, uncanny green eyes boring into her own. He didn’t say anything.
“Decades?” she said.
“Of course! We’ll take it slow; we wouldn’t want to destroy it before we’ve learned everything we can. Not like some people.” He looked over at Jack and Maddie, who rubbed their heads sheepishly.
Decades. Decades as a test subject. If Danny was just a ghost, it shouldn’t matter. He couldn’t feel anything.
Right?
Valerie couldn’t look away from his face. He looked scared.
“No,” she said. Her fingers clenched into fists
“Hm?” the other agent said.
“No, I won’t let you do this. It… This isn’t right!” With every word she spoke, she became more sure.
Danny was afraid. It wasn’t a lie or an act. He was really, truly afraid.
“Valerie?” Maddie said. “Dear, you know it’s not a person, right? It can’t actually feel.”
“You’re wrong!” She stepped forward, pulled out her gun, and blasted away the restraints holding Danny down. “I’ve been wrong, too. This whole time.”
“It’s out!” one agent said, pulling his ectogun and firing. “Recapture maneuvers, now!”
“What did you do?” Jack grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. Danny flew around the room, avoiding the ectoblasts from the agents and Maddie. “What did you do?”
“The right thing,” she whispered. And she knew that, this time, she was correct, and it hit like a bullet to the chest.
Then she was soaring, ripped out of Jack’s grasp, flying through walls and agents until she was outside the building, in Danny’s arms, free.
He set her down on a rooftop across the city. “Thank you,” he said. “I couldn’t—”
Heaving sobs burst out of her. “I’m sorry! God, fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“I—Huh?”
Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just didn’t want to admit it. For so long, Danny.”
“Are you okay?”
Valerie laughed. “No. I’ve been convincing myself that I was right and ghosts were all evil all the time because if they weren’t… if they weren’t, then what was I even doing?”
Danny’s face, inexplicably, softened. “Val—”
“And then I found out your secret, and all I could think was that you lied. That you didn’t trust me. And I knew why! But if I acknowledged it, then I had to acknowledge everything. All the—all the ways I hurt you. What if I hurt other ghosts that did—didn’t deserve it either?” Valerie hiccuped. “I—oh, God, I’m a monster.”
“You’re not a monster. You’re human. This is the kind of mistake that humans make. Me included.”
“I would have let Vlad destroy Danielle if you didn’t talk me out of it. I would have been fine with it!”
“But you didn’t. Don’t torture yourself over things you didn’t do. It doesn’t help anything.”
Valerie’s throat was sore, aching with each new sob, but she couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry. I made you a liar in my head so I could keep lying to myself. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Danny’s arms circled around her, and she let her head hit his shoulder.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”
--
Kwan didn’t expect Valerie to come back crying.
He’d kind of figured she’d get the trial. She’d been so sure it would be Danny that Kwan thought it had to be her. Like, cosmically or whatever. And after Paulina’s… whatever that was, he knew it would more than likely be intense. But ever since her dad had lost his job, Valerie had lost her softness, too. She didn’t cry when she was upset anymore. Instead, she got angry. She got even.
But when the light flashed on, Valerie was huddled on the floor, hugging herself, sobs heaving from her chest. Her face was dark and splotchy, dark stains of mascara trailing down her cheeks. Time was Kwan would have run to her, put his arms around her, rocked her back and forth. But this wasn’t that Valerie, and he wasn’t that Kwan.
He walked slowly, and knelt beside her.
“Valerie?”
“Oh God,” she said, choking through her sobs. “I—I really messed up.”
Kwan couldn’t help but turn his head and stare at Danny, holding Paulina up across the room. If she meant what he thought she meant… well, he couldn’t exactly argue.
“Yeah,” he said. She looked at him, tears still dripping from her eyes. “What are you gonna do about it?”
Valerie lifted a shaking hand and wiped at her eyes and cheeks and chin. “Ugh, nasty.” She looked tired more than anything. “Yeah. Yeah, I gotta do something, right?”
“You should probably start with walking. I don’t think he’s gonna come to you.”
Kwan stood with her, holding her elbow as her knees started to tremble. He glanced over her real quick, looking for any injuries like Paulina’s, but whatever had messed her up seemed to be more mental than anything.
That didn’t stop her from almost collapsing when she took her first step, grabbing on to Kwan’s hand at the last moment.
“Val!” Danny said, making an aborted gesture like he wanted to come over to help.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Just give me a sec.”
Kwan didn’t quite buy it, but she was determined. He kept his arm out, just in case she fell, but with each step she became steadier, almost normal by the time she reached Danny and Paulina.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was wrong about you. About everything. And I knew it, see, but I didn’t want to face it. So I just kept lying to myself. And I hurt you because of it. And I’m sorry.”
Danny froze, staring at Valerie in disbelief. “Oh,” he said.
Kwan looked over at the door at the far end of the chamber. He awaited the tell-tale rumble, the sign that they’d finished the last trial and the door was opening, but nothing came. Confused, he stared at Valerie, who shook her head.
“I don’t think I’m done just yet,” she said, sitting down in front of Danny. “I’ve done a lot of talking since this started. Said a lot of things… things that I regret. I haven’t listened, much. I think I need to listen, now.”
“Listen to what?” Danny said. “Like, what am I supposed to say?”
“Anything you wanted to tell me.” Tears spilled over her eyes again and her voice broke. “I’ll believe you. I swear.”
Danny laughed, just a little. “Even if I said the sky was green?”
Valerie pointed at one of the holes in the ceiling that revealed the swirling Ghost Zone outside. “Isn’t it?” she said.
Kwan couldn’t help but laugh at that, too, just as Danny and Valerie fell into giggles. Paulina mostly looked confused, but Kwan didn’t really have a good way to explain it to her right now. He waved her off.
“Well, I guess—Vlad’s a half-ghost, too. I thought you should know that.”
“Oh, uh, I already did. Know that, I mean”
“You did?”
Kwan held up his hands before they could get any deeper into that discussion. “Wait, wait—the mayor?”
“Yeah. He wants to kill my dad, marry my mom, and make me his evil half-ghost apprentice. So. It’s uncomfortable at best but sometimes I egg his house.”
“You egg his house?”
“After he cloned me, I figured all bets were off.”
“He cloned you?”
“Jesus, is that where Danielle came from?”
“Who’s Danielle?”
“My cousin. Well, technically, yes, she’s my clone, but that’s weird so we just call each other cousins.”
“Yeah,” Kwan said, feeling faint, “that makes the situation much less weird.”
Danny shrugged. “It’s just my life, dude. You get used to it.”
“Hang on,” Valerie said. “I don’t think we can gloss over the fact that Vlad Masters wants to murder your father, marry your mother, forcibly adopt you, and clone you, and the proportional response is egging his house?”
Danny rolled his eyes. “It’s not proportional but I’m not rich enough to do much more than be petty. If I reveal his identity to anyone then he’ll reveal me, too. Mutually Assured Destruction, and all that. Only so much I can do outside of that.”
“Okay. Okay. Shit. This is crazy. I hate this.”
“Tell me about it. How did you know Vlad was a ghost, anyway?”
“Oh, uh, I flew back to check on him after Danielle. And he was. Monologuing.”
Danny laughed again. “Of course he was. He’s such a little loser. You know his cat?”
“Yeah, Maddie—oh shit, that’s your mother’s name.”
(What the fuck, Kwan thought. What the fuck the mayor was so creepy.)
“Yeah, heh, well, the cat was my idea.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I told him he was so lonely and pathetic that he should stop trying to get my mom to love him since she never would and instead fill that hole with a cat. I still can’t believe he listened to me.”
They broke down into laughter again. Kwan thought it sounded a little hysterical, but he figured they deserved to go a little crazy.
After they calmed down a bit, Valerie wiped at her eyes. “What else?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, is there anything else you want to say to me? Stuff to tell me?”
(Kwan actually wanted to spend a little more time on the whole the mayor is an evil ghost thing, but this wasn’t his show.)
And Danny talked.
He talked about walking into his parents’ portal, thinking it was broken. About turning it on while he was still inside. About how much he sucked with his powers to start. About Ember McClain (she’s a ghost?) and Spectra (she’s a ghost?) and the Lunch Lady. About how scared he was, fighting Pariah Dark. About how much fun it was to fly. How funny it was to mess with Vlad.
Sometime, in the middle of all this, the door opened. Kwan and Paulina both felt the rumble, both looked at the door, but Valerie and Danny were too engrossed in their conversation to notice. Paulina opened her mouth to say something, but Kwan shook his head. The fate of the world didn’t rest on them moving immediately. Thirty more seconds wouldn’t matter.
After another minute, Paulina raised her eyebrows at him, jerking her head at the door. Kwan bit back an instinctive retort. She wouldn’t hear it anyway, and she wasn’t wrong. They couldn’t wait forever.
“Uh, guys?” he said, when there was a slight lull. “Not to interrupt, but the door’s open.”
Valerie and Danny’s head whipped around. “Oh,” Valerie said. “Right.”
Kwan winced. They’d been having a good time! Getting along! He’d been hoping for that since the beginning of this mess and now that they were there, he had to break the tender moment up. Unfair.
Necessary, but unfair.
“We’re done, right?” Danny said. “I mean, this last one should be the Panacea?”
“Should be,” Valerie said. “Unless we fucked up somehow. Or that legend was wrong.”
Kwan peered beyond the opening, but just like every other time, it was pitch black. They’d only find out for sure by walking in.
“Hang on a sec,” Danny said, eyes squeezed in concentration. Before Kwan could ask what he was doing, a bright white light engulfed the room.
When Kwan could see again, there was Danny Phantom, standing in place of Danny Fenton.
“Woo! Finally!” Danny said, floating up and doing a couple flips.
“Wait,” Kwan said, “could you… not do that before?”
Danny laughed. “Of course not, dude, or I’d’ve been in ghost mode the whole time. Ghost Zone is dangerous and all. That gun really knocked the wind out of me; I only just got the connection to my ghost half back.”
Kwan had been kind of avoiding thinking about Danny’s ghost half because he wasn’t really sure what to think. He didn’t have a problem with it, not like Valerie did, but it still felt… weird. How could someone be half-dead? Wasn’t it, like, painful?
Watching now, the grin on Danny’s face as he unleashed a bright explosion of ectoplasm like a firework over their heads, he knew there was nothing to worry about. Danny was half-ghost. Danny was happy about it.
It was good enough for him, Kwan decided.
He glanced over at Valerie. A smile played around her lips. Paulina was cheering beside her, elbow resting on Valerie’s shoulder. In a moment, they’d all link arms and walk through the last door, a truly united front.
Kwan cheered with Paulina as Danny landed. Valerie’s almost-smile became a grin. Danny bowed, a huge sweeping motion.
He could get used to friends like this.
--
“If we walk through this door and there’s another trial,” Danny said, looping his hands through Kwan and Valerie’s elbows, “I’m gonna be so pissed.”
Kwan and Valerie laughed, but Paulina groaned. “I can’t wait to find this stupid Panacea so I can stop missing all the good stuff! Stop being funny while I can’t hear!”
Danny couldn’t help laughing again as they stepped over the final threshold.
Immediately, the room lit up. Danny raked his eyes over the other, making sure none of them were shaken up or hurt like they’d been before, but they all looked the same.
“No trials?” he said, just to be sure.
“No,” Valerie said. Kwan shook his head.
Paulina rolled her eyes. “I still can’t hear you.”
Danny gave her a thumbs up, then pointed at her, and shrugged.
She giggled. “Okay, yeah, I’m good. No trials or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”
With that settled, Danny examined the room for the Panacea. At the far end, raised on a pedestal on a dais, was a white, crystalline bottle, glowing just slightly.
The Panacea.
Kwan whooped and raced toward it. “Wait!” Danny said, afraid of another trap.
Kwan made it to the dais, but stopped at Danny’s shout. “Sorry! I got excited.”
“Yeah, I get it, but we need to be careful.” Danny floated up next to Kwan, Valerie and Paulina right behind him. “Maybe… Maybe you should all step back.”
“What?”
“Danny, no!”
“What’d you say?”
“Listen! I’m faster than any of you. If something gets triggered I’m more likely to be able to get away.”
“But—” Valerie started to say.
“Am I wrong?”
“No—”
“Look, I appreciate it. Really, I do, but I think it’s best if I get the thing. Just in case.”
Danny couldn’t exactly explain why, but he was absolutely certain that he needed to be the one to grab the bottle. Everything he said was true enough, but there was something else niggling in the back of his mind that said he was the only one who could do it. He couldn’t let anyone else touch it.
“What’s going on?” Paulina said to Kwan in what she probably intended to be a whisper but was loud enough for everyone to hear. Kwan pointed to Danny, then to the rest of them, then pointed to the other side of the chamber.
“Yeah, that doesn’t really help,” she said, “but thanks, querido.”
“Are you sure?” Valerie said, steady gaze meeting his own.
Danny swallowed. “I’m sure.” He wasn’t sure why he was so sure, but he was.
She bit her lip, then nodded and stepped back, pulling Kwan and Paulina with her. That trial really had changed things; just ten minutes ago, Valerie would never have listened to him like this.
Once they were far enough away, Danny took a deep breath and grabbed the Panacea.
It came off easily, but before they could take a moment to celebrate, a bright green box formed around him.
Of course it did.
Danny reached out to touch the green wall, and a painful zap had him yanking his hand back. So no walking through. Ugh.
“Oh, come on!” Paulina said, tearing at her hair in frustration. “We passed your stupid trials! Just let us save the world!”
“Don’t worry, dude!” Kwan said. “We’ll get you out of there.”
It hit Danny all at once, a certainty that he knew exactly what needed to be done.
Valerie had already run up to the trap, Kwan and Paulina close behind, and was examining it. Probably looking for a way to get rid of it.
She couldn’t, though. Not like that.
“Val! Take the Panacea!”
Valerie, sharp as ever, narrowed her eyes at him. She’d already caught on. “We aren’t going to leave you here, Danny.”
“You have to.”
“No way!”
“What’s happening now?”
Kwan pulled out his phone, typing something before showing it to Paulina. She gasped. “Are you stupid? We’ll figure something else out. Don’t go playing martyr on us now.”
“No, listen! You have to. This is my trial, okay?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Every trial picks something that we suck at, right? Well, this one picked me.”
Kwan frowned. “I don’t—”
“It’s trust. I—look, I’ll be honest, you three are not high on my list of people to trust with my secret. Or, at least, you weren’t.”
Valerie opened her mouth, then winced. “Okay, yeah, that’s… fair.”
“But how can this be a trial? No one else’s trial took place in the real world!” Kwan stopped himself, furiously typing on his phone to show to Paulina. “This is the real world, right?”
“It’s real,” Danny said. He knew it like he knew he needed to grab the Panacea, like he knew exactly what needed to happen next. “This trap won’t go away until we put the Panacea back. But when we put it back, it’s gone forever. We’ll never find it again.”
“So, if we get you out…”
“We lose the Panacea.”
“No, no, no! We’ll figure something else out. There has to be another way.”
“Guys, guys, chill. You just have to bring it back when you’re done, okay?” Danny held out the Panacea through the force field. It passed through just fine. “I’m not offering to stay here forever. Just until you get back.”
None of them moved to grab the bottle. “But… but how are we supposed to fight the ghost without you?”
It was a fair question, and Danny wasn’t sure how he would have answered it yesterday. But the Panacea would be Pestilence’s ultimate weakness. And they’d faced plenty of stuff on their own today.
Danny wiggled the Panacea. “You’ll figure it out. I’ve got faith.”
(He was lying, just a little. But this wasn’t the truth trial, and what was faith without a little doubt?)
Valerie hugged herself. “I don’t know that we can,” she said. She straightened. “But we have to anyway, right?”
“Pretty much,” Danny said with a laugh.
“Do you have, like, snacks? For while you wait? Do you even need to eat?” He opened his mouth to respond, but Paulina shook her head. “Never mind, I can’t hear you anyway. Just… be careful?”
He couldn’t do much else, trapped as he was. He smiled and gave Paulina a thumbs up.
Kwan reached out and took the bottle. “How come you get to know it’s a trial, anyway? I didn’t know what the hell was going on.”
“How the hell should I know?”
“Fair.” Kwan started to move away, then paused. “We’ll figure it out. Promise.”
“I know,” he said. (Did he?)
“See you soon.”
Danny’s palms were sweaty under the suit. “See you soon.”
And they left.
--
Waiting sucked.
He was more bored and more anxious than he’d ever been in his life. Sure, he’d talked big about trusting the others. He even meant it. But he’d lost his phone somewhere in this whirlwind of a day, so he had no idea how much time had passed. An hour? Two hours? A day?
Okay, it definitely hadn’t been a day, but still. He worried. Valerie could hold her own, and Kwan could throw a decent punch, but was that enough against a veritable army? Even with the Panacea?
He wasn’t used to sitting aside and letting other people save the day.
(It was the right choice. It was the only choice. He hated it.)
He drummed his fingers on his knee. He tried a few breakdancing moves, fell, and laid on his back for ten minutes. His bladder started to ache. He thought about pissing through the barrier, but he couldn’t risk the chance that it would instead ricochet. He squeezed his legs together. He sang Billy Joel songs at the top of his lungs until his throat started to hurt.
“Jeez, you are not a singer, my guy.”
Danny’s head jerked up at Kwan’s voice. There, crossing the threshold, were Valerie, Paulina, and Kwan, hair and clothes a little messed up, but looking perfectly fine.
“You’re back!” He stood up and attempted to meet them, only to slam into the barrier, zapping himself once again. “Ow.”
“Of course we are,” Valerie said, a smirk in her voice. “Never a doubt.”
“This Panacea stuff is amazing.” Paulina pointed to her ears and wiggled the bottle. “Fixes everything. I love hearing and sound.”
Danny laughed, relief tingling down his spine. It worked. They did it. They won.
“Thank fuck,” he said. “Now get me out of here.”
“Hm, I don’t know,” Paulina said, tapping at her chin and frowning. “This stuff is pretty cool.”
Before an icy hand of fear could grip his heart, Kwan and Valerie were already yelling at Paulina.
“Polly!”
“Come on, girl.”
Paulina giggled, waving her hand. “Sorry, sorry. Wrong crowd.” She passed it through the barrier.
He snatched it out of her hand and placed it back on its pedestal. The barrier fell, and the room rumbled once again. As Danny stumbled to his friends (yeah, they were friends, weren’t they?), the chamber collapsed in on itself, leaving just the four of them, floating alone in the Ghost Zone.
“Guys,” Danny said, “I have to pee so badly.”
And they collapsed on each other, laughing. It didn’t help the burning in his bladder, but he could wait a minute or so more.
--
All four of them had split with little fanfare, exhausted from the day's events. He'd sent a quick text to Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, promising to explain everything tomorrow, and promptly fell asleep.
Jazz drove him to school and he gave her a rundown on the way. She smiled at him. Patted his shoulder. Said she was proud of him for making such a hard choice.
“Wasn't much of a choice,” he said with a shrug.
“That still doesn't mean it was easy. You did good, Danny. And now maybe you've got some more people, too.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe.”
The thing was, Danny had watched The Breakfast Club once, with Sam and Tucker. At the end, Sam looked over at him and said, “Bet they go back to school the next day and never talk to each other again.”
Tucker blew a raspberry at her. “Boo!” he said. “You're no fun.”
“Yeah,” Danny had said at the time, “They're all friends now. They aren't just going to give it all up to go back to how things used to be.”
“They spent one afternoon together in detention,” Sam said. “How life changing could it be?”
Danny pointedly did not think about that conversation as he walked up to Casper High the day after Pestilence's defeat. He didn't think about it as he pushed open the front entrance. He didn't think about it as he opened his locker. He definitely didn't think about it as he saw Dash shove Mikey to the floor.
Business as usual.
“Hey.”
Danny jumped, smacked his head on the locked door, and turned to see Paulina standing behind him.
Paulina giggle. “You good, cariño?”
“Don't sneak up on me like that!” Danny rubbed the stinging at the back on his head. “You'll give me a heart attack.”
“Can you get a heart attack?” Paulina tilted her head. Danny thought for a moment: his heart didn't actually beat in ghost form so theoretically...
“...Don't ask me that.”
“Hey, Fenturd! Leave Paulina alone.”
And there was Dash, looming behind him like Skulker, but only half as scary. Danny managed not to flinch as he turned to face him.
“I started talking to him, Dashie.”
Dash blinked in surprise. “Well,” he said, “he still shouldn't bother you.”
“He isn't.”
“Oh.”
Dash stood for a moment, mouth open, like he couldn't believe any of this. Danny could hardly believe it himself. But then Paulina rolled her eyes and said, “Seriously, Dash, that's enough. You can go now.” She punctuated her sentence with a dismissive wave.
“I—what?” Dash shook his head. “No, no, this doesn't make sense. Polly, are you—are you still possessed?”
Still possessed. Did Dash think that Paulina had been under Pestilence's spell? Or did he think she was somehow under Danny's spell? What exactly did everyone else think had happened yesterday?
“Just because I want to talk to Danny and not—”
“But he's a loser—”
“Don't talk about him like that!”
Dash's mouth flapped like he wanted to speak but no words came out. “I—you—what did you do to her, you little freak?” He turned on Danny, who had pressed himself into his locker, caught in the middle of this argument. Grabbing Danny's collar, he hoisted him up, knocking his head against the locker door again. Ow.
“I didn't do anything! Maybe Paulina just grew up!” Danny had never been good at keeping his mouth shut. Even now, when the obvious answer was to just get this whole thing over as soon as possible, he still had to sass Dash.
Paulina's perfectly manicured hand wrapped around Dash's wrist. “Seriously, Dash, he didn't—”
Dash ignored her, shoving her off. Paulina stumbled back, then hit the ground with a thud.
“Get off of him!”
And there was Kwan, pulling Dash off of him, arms looped under and around his shoulders. Danny sank to the ground, rubbing at his head. To the side, he saw Valerie help Paulina up before they both turned to glare at Dash.
Despite the twinge in his scalp, despite the stares of the rest of the school, despite his own lingering exhaustion, Danny couldn't help but smile. Take that, Sam. The Breakfast Club lives.
--
“Kwan?” Dash pulled away as soon as Kwan loosened his grip. “What the hell are you doing?”
Kwan ignored him and turned to Danny and Paulina. “You guys okay?”
Before either of them could respond, Dash shoved him. “Hey!”
“What is your problem, dude?”
“You're the one who suddenly came at me!”
“Yeah, because you were hurting Danny and Paulina.”
Dash blinked, like that hadn't occurred to him. It probably hadn't. Sometimes, Kwan thought that Dash didn't realize that everyone else in the world was a person, too. That they all had thoughts and feelings of their own. To Dash, everything was all Dash all the time.
(It wasn't entirely true, Kwan knew. He remembered a different Dash, eight years old, crying over Old Yeller and pretending he wasn't. Swiping at stray tears and yelling it's just dusty it's allergies don't laugh even though Kwan was crying, too. He doesn't know when exactly the pretense became reality, but he'd lost his Dash a long, long time ago.)
“Sorry Polly,” Dash said, not even looking at her. “But she’s acting weird. Fentonio’s using his parents’ ghost stuff to control her or something!”
“He is not!” Paulina yelled.
“Do you have, like, proof, or are you just pulling this insane theory out of your ass?”
They had long since attracted a crowd. Danny had slipped over to Valerie and Paulina at the front of the mass of students, and behind them stood just about every person in the school. Even Mr. Lancer, who by all rights should have been stepping in and stopping this, was standing by and watching. Like he was curious how things would go.
Asshole.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you need to back off of Danny and everyone else!”
Dash straightened up and pushed up his sleeves. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Who’s gonna make me.”
The crowd around them went wild, frenzied kids hooting and hollering at the prospect of a fight. Kwan made eye contact with Danny, Valerie, and Paulina. Paulina pointed at Dash, rolled her eyes, and faked a gag. Valerie gave him a thumbs up. Danny mouthed sorry at him. Behind them, Lancer hid his face behind a book.
Kwan wasn’t stupid. He knew what Dash was asking for. He knew Dash thought he’d win the fight, easy. He’d always won before, after all. Except—Kwan had been stupid in love with him. And a Dash who won was way happier than a Dash who lost.
The truth: Dash was a quarterback. Decently strong, for sure, but his main job was throwing the ball around. Kwan was an offensive lineman. His main job? Throwing people around. When the playing field was level, when Kwan didn’t pull his punches, there was no competition.
If Dash had thought about it for more than a minute, he would’ve realized that there was no way he was stronger than Kwan. But he’d long since lost that kind of self-awareness.
Kwan could be sad about all the ways Dash had changed tomorrow. Today was for kicking his ass.
Dash pulled his arm back to throw a haymaker. Without pausing to think, Kwan sidestepped the attack and swung an uppercut, hitting Dash square on the jaw with a nauseating click.
Dash flopped to the floor, mouth hanging open. Blood dripped down his chin; he must have bitten his tongue. For a moment, he froze, staring at Kwan in shock.
“You’re an ass,” Kwan said, “and I’ve been an ass right next to you. But I’m sick of it. Paulina’s sick of it. Everyone else in school is sick of it. I’m not holding myself back just to make you feel better. And I’m not gonna let you keep being a dick, either. So I suggest you stay down.”
Dash opened his mouth to say something, but Kwan cut him off. “I don’t wanna hear it,” he said. “Just… grow the fuck up, dude.”
And he walked past his oldest friend, bleeding on the ground, toward the cacophony of students and his 3 new/old friends.
“Jeez,” Valerie said, giving him a playful smack on the shoulder, “you’re so dramatic.”
“That was… public,” Danny said. The students started to disperse, heralded by Mr. Lancer. Lancer looked over at Kwan, nodded in something like approval, then shepherded people into their classrooms, leaving the four of them alone in the hallway just before the bell rang.
Kwan scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, sorry about that. Sorry you got in the middle there.”
“No, no, I mean… thanks for stepping in, but are you guys gonna be okay?” Danny’s eyes flicked between Paulina and Kwan.
They looked at each other. Paulina giggled. Valerie shook her head with a smile.
“Yeah, dude,” Kwan said. “We’re gonna be just fine.”
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Birdsongs
Chapter 7
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Summary: The Life Pilgrimage is the biggest music festival of the century, set to take place all across the continent. Small-time rock band, GIST, and the up-and-coming alternative band, Empire, are both lucky to be among the hundreds set to make appearances, but there's just one problem. Neither can afford the travel expenses on their own. For better or worse, they're stuck with each other for the next five weeks as they try to make their dreams come true.
And, perhaps, among the chaos and music, two unsuspecting souls find one another...
Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic), Jimmy & Scott (platonic)
Warnings: Alcohol, drugs, verbal fights, theft, divorce talk
Jimmy was driver for the second day in a row.
Not that he minded. Actually, he’d discovered so far he quite liked driving, especially the trailer. It felt satisfying, the movements the vehicles made when he turned the wheel or pressed on the brakes. He caught a lot more of the scenery when he had to concentrate, also. Time just passed by faster, more peaceful. One of the few times of this trip he could stop thinking.
It was a bit funny really, because he’d waffled on acquiring his license until college, so he hadn’t gotten to drive much as a teen. Then he’d gotten together with Scott. It wasn’t something they talked about, but even when they drove Jimmy’s car the keys always ended up in Scott’s hands. After moving back in with Lizzie he’d sold his car to cushion himself. Joel was the sort of guy who refused to let anyone touch his baby, so more often than not he was driven around or carpooled. Really, the fact that Jimmy was even allowed to drive the trailer seemed wild to him, but he was glad he was.
Especially now, with everyone so quiet.
The trailer bounced on the uneven country road. There was a whistle-like squeak and a thunk. Joel groaned. Between the lights being off and the shade of the forest outside Jimmy didn’t bother trying to check on him. He took a deep breath of the morning air as it rushed past the open window, letting his hand hang against the outside of the door. There was a hum on his tongue, but he kept his mouth shut to avoid fratricide.
Another bounce, another whistle, another groan.
Shuffling footsteps slowly approached, and this time Jimmy did check the mirror. It was Tango, eyes still shut and using the walls to navigate his way up until he flopped down into the passenger seat. Jimmy smiled, “Mornin’, sunshine.”
Tango let out a grunt, head reclined and face pulled tight around his nose as he tried to adjust to the bright window. He flicked his red sunglasses out of his pocket before even daring to try opening his eyes. “What sort of mutant are you to be so perky this early?” He muttered, eyes squinted. They scanned about until they landed on the half-folded map across the dash, and snatched it up.
“One who had seven AM classes and never readjusted.” He shrugged.
“That’s such a lie.” Wheezed Lizzie from somewhere in the back. Jimmy could picture her wagging finger. “You’ve always gotten up at unholy hours and I know you know it.”
“Hey! You would have never made it to band practice all of grade eleven and twelve if it weren’t for me!”
“Twas you whom sealed my fate, oh retched inhuman beast.”
“A thank you would be fine, you know!”
Thump, whistle, groan.
Tango snickered. “Alright, so where’s the hospital?”
“Should be a few miles up the road in another town.” He reached over, tapping a red H located on the map. “Another ten minutes probably. There’s a Ricky’s across the street from it so we can meet there for breakfast and sort all our stuff back into the right vehicles.”
The mention of food elicited a happy chorus from the zombie horde. Jimmy smiled and reached over the console for his water bottle before pushing it into Tango’s face. “I refilled all the ones I could find before disconnecting the water.”
Tango blinked, eyes dilating at the speed of molasses as his brain clicked back into reality. “Look at you, thinkin’ of everything. What’d we do without you?” He grinned and took the bottle. Jimmy felt his cheeks warm, back straightening up as he turned his attention onto the road.
Thump, whistle, groan.
His hold on the wheel tightened. “Well, all the responsible people are at the hospital, so someone has to do it.”
“I’m not sure going to the ER ‘cause of a bar brawl screams responsible.”
The bottle clunked back into the console, Tango scooting forward in his seat to lean his head back. Not on Jimmy’s watch. “Says the man without a seatbelt on.” He said, then cringed. It sounded so much more obnoxious when he said it aloud. If it bothered Tango he didn’t show it, fumbling for the belt with one hand and eyes closed.
“Ah well, stuff like this is gonna happen.” Tango said. “Better to get it out of our systems early, right? It’s all smooth sailing now.”
“Are you trying to dare the devil or something?” Joel interjected from his seat, giving voice to Jimmy’s thoughts.
But Tango waved him off, “What? That’s how you’re supposed to do it. Go wild the first little bit so everything after feels like a walk in the park! That’s how we’ve always done things, shakes off the nerves.”
Jimmy wasn’t so sure that’s how it worked, but he certainly hoped it was. As much fun as last night had been, it was probably for the best it was behind them.
A sign flashed by, almost too fast, telling Jimmy it was finally their turn off the freeway. Trees gave way to a town that was more of a giant truck stop, uncomfortably sparse with everything paved over, and enormous signs advertising fast food joints and gas prices heads above the tallest building. Actual homes were scattered further out in the hills or awkwardly dotted among the half-empty parking lots, their picket fences and old shingles all that was left of when the town must have been much quainter.
Their bandmates were already waiting for them outside the hospital, and five minutes later they were piling into Ricky’s for brunch. Judging from its proximity to the hospital and the fact that Jimmy could recognize several faces at the other tables, it probably wasn’t a surprised the waitress didn’t question why they all smelled worse than they looked. Scott managed to escape with only a split lip and bruise under his eye, his stitches being for a long cut up his forearm. Fwhip was not as lucky. Gem was already busy making fun of the man who looked like he’d been one with the bar floor mid-brawl. She was one to talk, given the black eye she sported. Jimmy was pretty sure he saw her nearly bite someone’s ear off, though, so he abstained from interrupting her.
With ten people their orders came in rounds. First came Pearl’s omelette with the works alongside Scott’s bennies and Skizz’s ridiculously huge grand breakfast that seemed to be three of everything. It was less ridiculous when Jimmy realized he was sharing with Impulse. Then came Gem’s clubhouse, Fwhip’s chicken tenders, and Lizzie’s fish and chips. After that was Joel’s bacon cheddar burger, and finally-
“Here you are, buttermilk pancakes.” The waitress announce cheerfully as she slipped one plate in front of Jimmy and another in front of Tango, placing a single plate with butter, strawberries, and maple syrup between them. Or, rather, directly in front of Joel, who was sat in the middle of them and giving Jimmy the most unimpressed look. It was his fault for insisting on sitting across from Lizzie instead of beside her.
Tango snatched up the butter, seemingly unsatisfied with the single square already atop it. In the process he all but pushed the strawberries onto Jimmy’s plate. More than fine by Jimmy. “So, Miss Manager, what’s the verdict on getting to the venue today?” He asked, giving Jimmy a thankful grin when he was passed the syrup that made Joel pretend to shove his knife down his throat to gag. Jimmy knocked his leg.
Pearl hummed until she could swallow. “Should still be able to make it if we just keep going, maybe ten or eleven?”
Just shy of twelve hours with breaks and dinner. “Y’okay to drive that long on your own?” Piped up Impulse, the only other person without a headache or head wound.
Jimmy nodded, “Think so.” He frowned, looking the man up and down. “Um, would you prefer to switch?” It may have been Impulse’s car, but it was still cramped compared to the trailer. Impulse waved him off, though.
“We need more buns and salad before we go.” Chimed Gem.
Skizz balked. “What? What happened to the tub of macaroni salad?”
“Someone left it out.”
“Hey, don’t look at me. I hate that stuff!”
“Sounds exactly like something someone who left it out would say.”
“Why does it matter? You didn’t have to throw it out, one night wouldn’t hurt it.”
“Um, ew? It absolutely would!”
“Yeah, I gotta agree, it’s pretty nasty...”
Joel smacked the syrup right out of Tango’s hand as he passed it over the shorter man’s head. It clattered to the table, rolling off into Jimmy’s lap. “Joel!” He shrieked, pushing up out of his chair. The case hooked over the back of his chair clattered loudly to the ground, wringing winces from those around him. Both his shirt and jeans were coated in sugar. Everyone paused in their arguments to watch Jimmy squirm in his own skin. The whole restaurant was, actually. Jimmy’s face turned beet red, grabbing a napkin to try and at least wipe down his arms, but the thin paper just curled and tore and created a worse mess. Joel just laughed.
“Here, dampen it.” At the very least Pearl tried to help, dabbing another napkin into an untouched glass of water, but it didn’t help much.
He sighed in resignation, and began to pick up his poor guitar. It was a delicate process not to get it coated as well. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
“We should find somewhere to do laundry, too.” He heard Scott say behind him. “Some of you have been wearing the same clothes for a few days now and you can smell it.”
Several individuals protest, all people Jimmy knew for certain qualified for that statement. He hurried along before he could get caught in the crossfire.
-
The dryers were taking their damn time.
Tango chalked it up to the things looking about thirty years old and beaten to crap by who-knows-who.
The washers rumbled under him, eyes glued to the ever spinning clothes. Goosebumps ran up his arms from the air conditioning, a constant reminder he was stuck in his undershirts and shorts. His own fault for throwing all his clothes into simultaneous loads. There was the softest tune under the hum of machines emanating from a portable radio in the staff booth echoed by his bass. He’d taken a page out of Jimmy’s book and brought it in with him. Of course, he wasn’t about to plug the thing in, lest the ancient temple’s Edwardian era wiring explodificate and leave them with nothing but wet clothes and sadness. That didn’t mean he couldn’t strum along to the Steve Miller Band while longingly watching the concrete outside bake.
“How does he do that?”
Tango let out a screech like a shot seagull, almost falling off the washer. When had Jimmy and Gem gotten here? How long had he spaced out? The two weren’t even paying Tango any attention while Jimmy slipped his case off his shoulder and popped it open. Gem dropped a grocery bag and hopped up on the washer beside him, enclosing the tallest between her and Tango, while he organized his fingers along the strings. “What?” Tango finally asked, grabbing the two’s attention.
“That little- like, the cat call.” He muttered, mimicking the whistle. Hands absently adjusted to what he thought might be the proper notes.
Gem reached out and adjusted his ring finger. “I’m pretty sure it’s that, then you just sorta...” She pulled away, air-guitaring the motion for him to copy. He did so, but without being plugged in it was hard to tell if he’d gotten it for certain.
Tango’s eyes followed the movement of his left hand. Theoretical tones played along in his brain. Too stiff. He scooted around until he was facing them. “Here.” He called for their attention. When Jimmy’s curios gaze shifted from Tango to his bass Tango showed his own attempt at the segment. One he’d done long ago but not since. Both guitarists had their eyes glued to his hands, making him second guess every single choice he’d ever made in life that put him here, thinking he could teach other people how to play their own instruments while in his skivvies in public.
They foolishly mimicked him anyways, pleased with whatever popped up in their own mind’s eye. Tango went back to strumming along with the actual bass. Gem happily jumped in as well. “I’m a joker, I’m a smoker, I’m a midnight toker, I get my lovin’ on the run,” she sang, too pretty. Jimmy quickly picked up after them on the guitar after a stumble in the first notes. Something Tango was beginning to suspect he was incapable of not doing. For someone who spent his time on stage just setting the beat, Tango thought Jimmy handled the solo better than expected. The lazy guitar was well out of his comfort zone, though, his movements still stiff.
Both men half-heartedly joined Gem’s singing as the song came to an end, her hands slapping the lid of the machines as some type of drum. Tango’s nose began to itch. The song faded out and the channel host piped up. At the same moment the machine Tango sat on ended its cycle, buzzing at him. All of it was drowned out by the loudest sneeze Tango had ever suffered, the force of which was enough to knock him right off his precarious perch. Enough to scare his companions.
“I think Skizz’s grandma heard that!” Gem laughed.
But Jimmy frowned, “Do you need a sweater?”
“S’in the dryer still.” He sniffled, trying to keep his eyes from watering.
That didn’t deter the guitarist, who went for their laundry bag, then stumbled outside towards the trailer when he didn’t find what he was looking for. Tango wondered if he even noticed he still had his guitar around his neck, case abandoned. Another machine buzzed, this time a dryer.
“He’s definitely going to bump off the doorway.” Gem whispered. On cue, Both ends of Jimmy’s poor guitar slammed into either side of the trailer, almost throwing Jimmy to the ground. He stood there, confused, before he hugged his guitar to his shoulder and went in sideways. Tango raised an amused eyebrow towards Gem, who was trying not to laugh too loud. “Oh, silly Jimmy.”
“Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.” Tango tried to defend even as he also began to giggle. He absently grabbed for the laundry bag and yanked open the dryer. The warmth soaked into his skin.
Gem rolled her eyes and sent him a pointed, unimpressed look. “That’s ‘cause you’re also a silly goose.”
“Guilty as charged.” He couldn’t exactly defend himself on that one. So, he changed the subject. “You two play well together.”
There was a hum Tango thought might have been agreement. “We picked up guitar around the same time, so we learned together from my mum.”
He’d heard it before. How Gem had gone from only wanting to sing as a kid to feeling embarrassed it was all she could do in her teens. Nothing wrong with expanding your horizons, he had told her. As often as Tango experimented with new instruments he always wandered back to his bass.
“You were part of Empire, then?” He asked.
Gem shrugged, “Not really? I mean, we played together and Lizzie and Scott were writing some songs, but the band didn’t really exist yet. They talked about it a lot but I don’t know, guess I knew from the start I wouldn’t end up playing with them.” She grinned, “I have way more fun with you guys, anyways!”
Maybe it was just his imagination guilt tripping him, but it felt like there was something almost determined and a bit desperate in her last statement. He looked away. “It’s been fun playing with you too, Glitter Girl.”
The door creaked open, and Jimmy tripped through it. One hand held his guitar flush to his chest, while the other was wrangling a familiar blanket that had been rapidly unfolding itself. “I couldn’t- Scott wouldn’t let me mess with the clothes he already folded, but...”
“Thanks, partner.” Tango smiled, letting the man throw it over Tango’s shoulders like a cape. He didn’t bother to mention that he now had access to several pieces of his own clothes. It couldn’t hurt to wait for the second load. What was he going to do, suddenly be even more embarrassed than he already was? Besides, the blanket had trapped its fair share of warmth from the dryer, and Tango was very quickly sinking deeper into it.
Jimmy’s smile was shy, cheeks just slightly rosy, before he turned towards his guitar case. Leaned out of the way, Tango got a clear view of Gem once more, who had her clasped hands to her cheek and was making kissy faces at Tango. Like the responsible adult he was he stuck his tongue out at her. She giggled. Well, at least he had company now.
-
It was ten to eleven when they rolled into the next venue. They were lucky to do so, as check in would close for the day after eleven. The very grumpy and tired staffer was particularly adamant on reminding them of that fact through the entire process. They made it, though, and they parked in their place. A gravel lot used for parking, with no room for much else between vehicles. Worse yet, there was separate designated spaces for cars and trailers, so the car wound up a quarter of a mile away. It all sucked, to be frank, but it also didn’t matter. Everyone was too tired and too excited to care. Everyone except Scott, at least, who was already preparing a speech that would make whatever poor worker he would confront tomorrow morning about these inconveniences wish they were never born.
For the rest of them, though, it was bed time.
By this point in their journey, Jimmy had become used to waking up wrapped around Tango. It was cold at night and the man was practically a furnace, sue him. The sun had yet to rise, but there was a subtle thumping from the bathroom before Scott walked out, sans makeup or patience. His exhausted glare landed on Jimmy and warped into a raised eyebrow. Jimmy’s face turned pink, rolling over and burying it into Tango’s hair. No confrontation came of it, only a snort. Still, he waited until the door rattled close. Someone else in the trailer groaned, but no one got up.
After a long moment of debate, Jimmy decided to begrudgingly get up. Someone should make breakfast, and he was on a usefulness streak lately. When he sat up, though, Tango’s face scrunched and he was pulled in tighter. Jimmy muffled a snort, “I’m not your teddybear, you know.” he murmured to the sleeping man. A pillow seemed to suffice as a replacement for Tango. It did not do so for Jimmy himself, who was now surrounded by freezing morning air and clinging to his equally cold guitar. Right, sweater first, then teeth.
Ten minutes later Jimmy made it out of the trailer without waking anyone else. Scott was, predictably, nowhere to be seen. Whoever their neighbour was to be had yet to arrive, so Jimmy got to work pulling out the folding table.
The smell of coffee woke someone up. Jimmy was halfway through setting up chairs when something inside slammed against the wall. That, or someone went face first into the bathroom door. Pearl’s face poked out the door, hair still twirled up in a braid and a sheepish smile on her face. “How’s it going out here?” She half-whispered.
“Was about to mix up scrambled eggs.” He explained, motioning towards the table. Milk, cheese, and the whole carton of eggs patiently waited next to an unopened tray of breakfast sausages and bag of hash browns. “We got some miniwheats if you want something now, though.”
“I can wait.” She flopped down into one of the folding chairs, next to the one Jimmy’s guitar was leaned in. He threw her an orange juice at the very least. “So, where’d Scott run off to?”
Jimmy tilted his head, frowning. Not that he was an expert, but that was most certainly not Pearl’s usual tone. She was focused on getting the straw into her juice box when he looked to her, though. Was he still half asleep? “He’s-”
“Right here.”
Now that tone Jimmy was an expert in. Tired, cranky, and done with everything, but, like, while still covered in glitter and a spotlight. There was no way to tell if he was actually enraged or just wanted to put on a show. Either way, Jimmy counted down with perfect timing to Scott’s hand slamming against the table and letting out the world’s longest sigh. “The organizers at this venue are absolutely incompetent.” He whined, head lulling dramatically as though he’d been shot. A show it was.
“Oh really? How so?” Pearl indulged.
“Well, by not even being awake yet, for one.”
“It’s six AM, mate. Give ‘em at least until eight, there’s like five people here at this point.”
Scott pouted, glancing off into the distance as if he was really considering it until he huffed. “I’m awake now, though, and I want to give them a piece of my mind.”
“A piece, or the whole pie.” Jimmy teased, pointing the whisk at him before turning towards the eggs.
There was a gasp, “Jimmy! Of course not.” There was an odd quiet moment that followed. One that had Jimmy worried until he heard the hash brown bag shake. His head shot up in time to watch Scott place the frozen bag back into the cooler.
“Hey!”
“They’ll thaw.” Was his only explanation before he went to sit down.
Jimmy’s nose scrunched up in annoyance. “They’re just hash browns, it’s not a big deal.”
“I don’t want to have to buy a whole new bag like the salad.”
Another protest almost left his lips, but they clamped shut as he watched Scott run his hands over his face. Bags under his eyes and bruises all over his arms still. You said it yourself, it’s just hash browns, not a big deal. He went back to preparing the egg mixture and setting the table, waiting for more folks to awaken. If Scott needed to stick his nose in things to get over his mood it wasn’t his business.
Pearl had much stronger words for him from what Jimmy could make out from her tone, though too quiet to catch much of what it was. Given he heard something about punching Jimmy guessed it was about the bar still. He snorted, good luck with that. Scott had always been a messy drunk, like one of those toy cars. The tighter he wound during the day the worse it was when he let go. Something people had to learn on their own, he supposed.
Some time later Impulse and skizz tumbled out of the trailer, perkier than any of them, and Jimmy was finally allowed to pull the hash browns out of the cooler.
Jimmy was sitting with his chin up on his guitar when Tango stumbled out, last of the whole bunch and clinging to the pillow Jimmy had left him with like a lost child. He caught sight of Jimmy and beamed a toothy grin his way even as he shivered like a leaf in the cold morning air. Whatever was left of Jimmy’s earlier sour mood flew away. “Anything left for me?” He asked.
Skizz answered, putting sombre hands on the sleepy man’s shoulders. “You know what they say, Top. Early bird gets the worm. I’m afraid you’ll have to starve.”
“I made you a plate already.” Jimmy announced, pulling the pot lid off the plate sat behind him and holding it out. “You’ll have to make the toast, though, if you want any.”
A smug little noise left Tango along with a matching look towards Skizz, “Thank you, and that I do.” He then turned to the toaster and spun the dial all the way up to charcoal levels. That, Jimmy mused, was a practice he could never get behind. But to each their own, he supposed.
Then something whistled.
There was no thump.
And others paused.
“Okay, what is that?” Joel hissed as he approached the tires. “There a leak?”
“Never heard a leak sound like that.” Impulse chimed in with concern and joined him. Jimmy pulled his case closer.
Another whistle. Another no thump.
That one had Pearl, Scott, and Skizz all joining in the search for the defect. Lizzie worried the hem of her shirt. “Oh gosh we only just got to the second venue. I hope nothing’s broken.”
“You okay?” Tango asked, and it took Jimmy a moment to realize it was directed at him. He shrugged back and buried his face in his case.
“It’s from in here!” Skizz called out. The storage lock clicked open. “Kinda sounds like- WOAH, HEY!”
The whistle turned into a frantic flurry of chirps and rattles. Someone nearby gasped.
“What in the world-”
“Is that a bloody bird?”
“Oh my god!”
“Stop! Don’t open it!”
“Who would...”
“Put it down, put it down!”
Metal clanged against the gravel lot. Jimmy finally peeled himself apart enough to peek out at the scene. Most of the two bands were surrounding a painted cage, where a little yellow bird was flitting about in a panic. Instantly three sets of eyes turned onto him instead. Lizzie, Joel, and Scott.
“Jimmy.” Scott said with great strain.
Jimmy shrunk away, face twisted. “What?”
“I couldn’t help notice you don’t seem all that surprised.”
“Wait a minute, I’ve seen this before.” Skizz interrupted them both, kneeling down next to the cage. “There was something just like this in a house next to the park.”
Lizzie’s hands went to her hips. “James Solidarity, did you steal a bird? Don’t you lie to me!”
“No!” He lied.
Joel’s hands went to his hair, a humourless laugh escaping. “Dude, what the heck, you didn’t even drink! Why did you steal a bird?”
“I don’t know!” He curled his whole body around his guitar. “I was just- everything was really exciting and- look, I’m not the one who got stabbed with a broken bottle!”
“Uh, this ain’t about me right now, dude.” Fwhip muttered, though he nudged out of the circle to hide behind his bandmates.
While his own bandmates continued shouting GIST stood to their own side, caught between shock and amusement. At least Impulse and Gem seemed shocked. Tango was doubled over, cackling like a madman, while Skizz tried to hide his giggles and failed miserably. “Oh this is too good.” He said. Pearl had her own hand over her mouth, impossible to tell what his emotions were except from the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes. None seemed angry. It made Jimmy feel much better, if he could only block out the yelling from his peers.
He launched forward, spurred on by a new wave of confidence, “Look, I know it was stupid-”
“Stupid barely begins to cover it.” Scott drawled, rolling his eyes. “What are we supposed to do, now? We can’t just bring it back, we’re on a schedule. And what if someone saw you? Did you think this through at all?” His foot was going against the gravel, letting Jimmy know how close he was to the end of the fiddler’s nerves. For once it only put more coals on the fire. It was Scott’s fault in the first place for his own stress, he had no right to put it on Jimmy like he was the only one who did something stupid in the last few days.
No, it was entirely unfair. “Everyone’s made a fool of themselves, why are you singling me out?”
Scott gaped. Wrong answer. “Because there is currently a fucking bird in our trailer right now! That you stole and that I’m going to have to clean up!” He snapped, throwing his hands at the cage and then at Jimmy. “Why are you always like this!”
Everyone quieted. GIST’s giggles died while Empire’s various reactions all settled into concern. The indignation had fizzled out from Jimmy’s heart as well, leaving him stubbornly silent as his face heated. Scott’s chest heaved, glaring Jimmy down and oh, if looks could kill he’d be nothing but minced meat ground deep into the mud. It’s about what he felt like in that moment.
Fwhip was the first to dare break the silence, placing a hand on Scott’s shoulder that was promptly thrown off. “Hey, it’s fine. I’ll just take the car and bring the bird back.”
“No, you won’t.” Scott hissed. He tore a lighter out of his pocket. “You need to be here to sell our CDs and manage contacts while we’re performing, and you can’t do that if you’re busy a day’s drive away searching for the owner on your own, because Skizz and Jimmy are not going back with you.” As he rambled his grip shook and the cigarette he fumbled with snapped in half. It was thrown to the ground, “Fuck’s sakes...”
“Hey, buddy, calm down.” Tango interjected. He was silenced with a single side eye, but Pearl took his place.
“Look, this is entirely fixable. If Fwhip can’t go then I will, and if not we’ll find another solution. It’s not the end of the world.”
If Scott heard her he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead he stomped off towards a neon green trailer down the way, leaving the group caught in the awkward atmosphere. When some of the eyes turned to Jimmy he took up examining the gravel under his own feet.
“Well, that... was a lot.” Impulse chuckled.
Tango snorted. “A lot of bullshit.”
“Tango!”
“What? It’s true!”
“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s come over him.” So started Fwhip’s apologizing, rambling on explanations to avoid their bands’ collective embarrassment. Jimmy could still feel his blood simultaneously boiling and frozen in his veins and did not bother to contribute.
A delicate hand landed on his arm, Lizzie’s eyes wide and glossy. “Are you okay, Jim?”
He shook off the touch and went to grab the cage, and bolted for the door. The moment it shuttered behind him muffled conversation picked up outside, audibly tense. Instead, he put the bird down on the counter, crawled into the safety of bed, and pulled his case into his lap. The leather was cold against his forehead, cooling his quick breaths before they buffeted back against his throat.
This was inevitable. They all knew it, it wasn’t like five whole adults were completely oblivious to the winding key that had been tightening since the start of this trip. Since the divorce, really. Or maybe before. Probably before. It still hurt.
Free from the dark the bird began to chatter. What seemed so soothing days ago grated against the last shreds of Jimmy’s composure. “Shut up.” He tried to snap but it came out more like begging. Of course, he canary had no idea. The chirps continued on. He thought he might be able to feel them scraping against his brain. It was probably thirsty and hungry, the kinder part of him reminded. He didn’t want to be kind right now, though. It was all he could do not to find something to throw at the cage.
The door shook. Jimmy didn’t look up, but he recognized the sound of heavy steel-toe boots by now. There was the smallest sound of a breath catching, but no words followed. Instead the bird cage rattled, agitating both the canary and Jimmy. “Here, find some food for it or something.” The bassist whispered to someone before the canary’s cries became distant. Jimmy knew from the way the trailer tipped that Tango had not left with it, but nor had he entered further than needed to close the door. He was probably waiting for some sign from Jimmy, whether to go away or not. Not a question Jimmy was sure he had an answer to quite yet.
“You want breakfast?” Tango asked instead.
Jimmy wanted to say no, but his stomach protest. He shrugged. The trailer shook and a box thunked against the counter. At first he assumed Tango was pouring cereal until he heard the faucet and something scraping. That was apparently enough to get Jimmy to peek. Butter hit the frying pan, and he watched half-baffled, half-fascinated, as Tango poured batter into it soon after.
Cooking took only a few minutes. Really, with the instant mix it was amazing how quickly it could go. Inevitably, the fire alarm went off, startling both of them. Tango grumbled and hissed while waving a towel around. It didn’t take long, but just long enough for Jimmy to loosen the tight ball he’d pulled himself into. Giant boots still on, Tango sat down on the bed next to Jimmy and handed him the pancakes past his guitar.
They sat in silence through the first half, Jimmy slowly shovelling bites that were a bit too big into his mouth while Tango looked at everything but him. Eventually, though, the guitarist remembered his manners. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Tango assured, even though it certainly was.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said instead.
It got a shrug and a shift to a more comfortable position on the bed, accepting the silent invitation. “Every bands’ been there. Can’t tell you how many times me and Skizz have yelled at each other.”
“But not like that.” Guessed Jimmy, which from the look on Tango’s face he was right. He sighed and set his plate aside. “He’s never yelled at me before.”
“Really?” There was a skeptical eyebrow raised.
“Yes.” Jimmy shut down immediately, though his full reply took another moment to gather his thoughts. “Silent treatment, passive aggressive comments, but we’ve never yelling. Not seriously. Never had a fight.”
“Nothing at all?”
He paused. In the grand scheme of things, Tango was still a stranger. All of GIST except Gem were, really. Having someone new to talk to was great, and Jimmy wasn’t clever enough to deny his growing fondness for Tango, but he was still mostly a stranger. One who didn’t need dragging into their band’s silly interpersonal drama. Maybe, though, that Pandora ’s Box was already ripped wide open, given the incident that just occurred. If they were going to be stuck with it for the next month they at least deserved to know a bit more.
Or maybe Jimmy was just looking for an excuse to let it all out on some poor guy who was a bit too nice to him. His tongue made the choice for him, beginning to spill out the story before he thought anymore about it. “You know there wasn’t a fight even at the end?”
Tango perked up, attention fully turning on him now with a sombre expression.
“I just- there never was. I remember thinking now and then about what getting a divorce might take. Scott’s the one who organized all the marriage stuff. There’s probably something poetic in there or something.” He let out a humourless laugh. “But, one day I just sort of... did it. Nothing happened. Normal day. I just called up and asked after work, and then I had the paperwork in my hands.”
He could picture the scene quite clearly, not from that specific day but from how many times he walked through that side door. The teal paint that was beginning to chip, the colourful fish themed wind chime, the tall trashcan he always caught his jacket on no matter how many times he passed it. “Scott was sitting at the table writing a song or something. I put them down beside him and asked if he could sign them. Think he already knew, not like I do much paperwork stuff. He didn’t say anything, though. Just read it like I was handing him a flyer or anything else. I don’t know if he really was fine with all it said, it was pretty heavy in his favour since I was the one with family nearby and the house and car were his to start. But he signed it. Four minutes of reading and he just signs it and hands it back.”
“After that was like the most normal conversation in the world, too. Asked when I wanted to move out, when he should call Joel and Lizzie to come over, if I had boxes yet.” And Jimmy had replied much the same back. Of course, he knew what was going on in his own head at the time. A whole lot of nothing and everything all at once that made the rest of the day pass in a blur until he was in the spare room at Lizzie’s. It took a day before he finally had his first breakdown over it, and of course it had to be at the dinner table in front of both his sister and brother-in-law. “We didn’t see each other for two weeks, and then we were back in his studio, practising for a gig that was coming up. It was like none of it ever happened. Talked about it one more time, wrote a song about it as you do, just to get it out of our system. Peachy after that.”
“That’s a lot to just sweep under the rug.” Tango finally interjected, brow pressed into a stressed line. Saying it out loud, Jimmy understood. The whole thing was ridiculous.
He leaned back, letting his guitar fall off beside him. “But we never yelled at each other.”
A particular loose thread in the blanket had captured Tango’s attention at some point, long enough for his finger to have gotten under the weave and pulled it further. He’d turned his full awareness onto it now, unlooping his finger and trying to smooth it out despite how long gone it was. Jimmy began to think maybe Tango wasn’t the person he should be talking to about this, that it should be Lizzie, or maybe some random person in a bar. Someone who wasn’t straddling the line, unquestionably on Jimmy’s side of things.
He had the sudden urge to assure that Scott was a great guy, it was both their fault things fell apart, that he was normally kind and funny. Anything that might leave Tango with a better impression than yelling and binning a seven year relationship and three year marriage without a fuss. It didn’t make it out of his head though, past the fog of annoyance that stubbornly clung to him. Deep down he knew he wanted Tango to join him in being spiteful and angry, some sort of external assurance it was okay. Either side being validated would make him just feel like crap.
Yeah, he definitely shouldn’t have chosen Tango to talk to. He was going to blame the pancakes, who wouldn’t blab after that?
It took him a moment to register Tango was speaking again, after an eternity of silence. “You wrote a song about it?”
Jimmy shrugged, patted his case. “Quick thing in like twenty minutes. Fixed it up here and there, but it’s still pretty awful. Bunch of self-indulgent metaphors and stuff.” Scott had joked, once, that it was an example of why he and Lizzie were the lyricists and Jimmy just played guitar.
“Do you play it?”
“Just with each other.” In fact, he could count on his hands the number of times they’d played it. “Whenever things get a bit tense. Don’t think either of us brought our copy along.”
“Does it help?”
At that Jimmy had to pause. Did it? Sometimes. It helped them get back into the groove of working together in the band, reminded Jimmy they weren’t just husbands, but friends and bandmates. It probably wasn’t what they needed specifically, but it did something. So, he replied, “Yeah.”
“That’s good.” Tango said genuinely. “Maybe you guys should do that then? I don’t know, sorry, I’m not very good at this sorta thing.”
He laughed. “No, you aren’t. I thought you were going somewhere with that.”
“Listen, I’m trying!” Tango threw his hands up. “I mean if I were you I woulda knocked the guys’ teeth out, got the daylights knocked outta me back, and never showed my face again. I might still do that anyways, who knows.”
“Aw, don’t do that, I’d miss you.” Jimmy bumped his shoulder into the others, trying hard not to keep giggling.
A smirk stretched across Tango’s face, eyebrows jumping up to where Jimmy worried about the piercings in them pulling at the skin. “Oh is that the part wrong with that? Maybe you aren’t as forgiving a guy as you seem.”
“Nope, I’m an angel.”
“I’d believe it.” Tango got up. “Point is, I talk a lot and don’t say much. You two seem to have a lot to say, though, that you don’t like talking about. Can’t be to good for your noggins. Or your music.”
Jimmy sighed, and accepted the hand held out towards him that pulled him up out of bed. “No, probably not. I wouldn’t know where to start, though.”
“That one is definitely outta my pay grade. You’ll have to upgrade to Skizz or something. I’m just bozo over here.”
As he said it he reached up and squeezed his own nose, making a strange noise that took Jimmy far too long to realize was supposed to be honking. He barked, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh my gosh, what was that?”
“Hey! Don’t laugh at my joke!”
Jimmy burst, doubling over.
The door opened, interrupting their laughter. Joel poked his head in, looking wary only for a moment before he got a good look at Jimmy and his shoulders visibly dropped. “You guys okay in here?” He asked anyways.
“Think so?” Tango replied, gaze darting back to Jimmy, who nodded.
“That’s good. Couple of us were going to go get a look at the stages while Pearl talked to the organizers. You feeling up to coming along, Jim?”
He suddenly became painfully aware of how cramped and stuffy the trailer was, now that everything seemed lighter. “Yeah, okay.”
They were filing out when, “Oh, hey, Jimmy?”
Jimmy turned, watching as Tango’s hand hooked around the strap of Jimmy’s guitar case and lifted it up off the bed, holding it out towards him in question. A hand flew to Jimmy’s shoulder, and he blinked. “Thanks.” He muttered, taking the guitar and throwing it back into its usual place. It never felt so light.
Tango grinned, and slapped him on the back. “Alright, let’s go!”
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