Work Text:
Fun Ghoul was a somewhat new addition to the fabulous four and thinking back on it, Party Poison wasn’t sure they could even pinpoint when exactly the other killjoy had inserted himself into their lives. It sort of showed up one day but then it never left, claiming the three killjoys as his crew like some sort of stay dog. Or maybe a tick. But however he had come about, let alone managed to stay, one thing was for sure- he had dug out a hole in each of their hearts and rooted its thorny tumbleweed of a self within. He was one of them now, a part of their little family.
Sometimes Fun Ghoul really despised Party Poison. Don’t get him wrong, he loved the bastard but they were just that- a bastard. They’re great at what they do: leading the team, fighting for freedom, the whole shtick. But what Ghoul just can’t stand is how much they just put into it . The passion, the love for this life. Party Poison will fight for what they believe in with all their being and Ghoul hates it because it means he can’t ignore his desires on the excuse that Poison’s not a good person. Because he is a good person, the most amazing killjoy that Fun Ghoul has ever met but it hurts because they're not his . And they never will be. But Ghoul’s poor heart just can’t accept that.
He could remember the exact moment his heart began to break perfectly. Poison had been rambling about something or another, going on about something they were writing, ever the creative. Ghoul had been zoned out for a few minutes, daydreaming alone to the warm tone of Poison’s voice in the background, imagining it in his ear when they’re all alone on some cool night, watching the stars or huddled together by a campfire. But then something Poison said brought him back to the moment. His eyebrows had furrowed and he remembers frowning, looking back up abruptly.
“I don’t really believe in love.” Poison had said, staring thoughtfully at their own hands, slender and calloused.
“You don’t?” Ghoul had echoed. “How? I mean isn’t that like, the whole thing ?”
The corner of Poison’s mouth quirked into a little smile. “The whole thing .” They repeated and Ghoul huffed a little breath from its nose.
“You know, like, the whole killjoy thing. Hope and love and freedom and shit.” He clarified. Poison shrugged.
“I mean, yeah.” They agreed. “I do believe in all that, you know me. I guess I meant something more like uh.. luck, maybe. Yeah, luck. I don’t know. It’s just.. everything’s temporary, yknow?”
Ghoul didn’t really understand so it just shrugged and the conversation quickly morphed into some other topic, but Ghoul still lingered on that initial phrase that had caught his attention. Even if Poison had meant something like luck, it still sort of made sense. Them not believing in love, or at least not love like that. Because it’s obvious Poison loves and they love intently. They cherish life like they could die at any moment, which they could. Everyone could, out in this world.
Everything is temporary, it’s not a lie. Lives are so short compared to the history of the universe and when you live in the moment like killjoys do, days come and go. Ghoul lost count of the date and subsequently his age years ago. He wasn’t sure if he was seventeen or twenty-five. It didn’t matter to him.
And he had seen Poison play their theory of temporality firsthand on all those days they disappear after a concert or sneak out to spend the night with a stranger just to return in the morning without a second thought. Sure, Poison still believed in love, but they definitely didn't believe in settling down and living the loyal partner life when they could be out there having a new experience with a new body whenever they want, enjoying the moment. And Fun Ghoul hated Poison for that but he could understand it. The appeal of that wild lifestyle when it came to intimacy, the idea of not getting attached, of not falling in love when you live in a world where you could so easily lose the person you chose to give your heart to.
He was drawn to that lifestyle, had even lived like that himself, once. Drifted across the slums of Battery City paying his debts in whatever way he could, whether it was money, medication, or the relief of his own skin and bones for the night. It wasn't really that bad of a way to live at all, but it had been lonely.
He wouldn't go back to that life now, though. He had a job to do, an evil corporation’s drones to fight, a crew to stand with. He had a family. He had a home. He wasn't lonely anymore, not in that sense. In that old sense he still was, he has so much passion to give that even back then, he only let out in its spurts to pay his heated dues. But he never gave all of himself to someone. Oh, how he wants to, though. But he bottles it up, saves it for a lover that will never come, because his fool's heart just had to go and fall for someone unattainable.
He remembers the moment it happened well. It was something mundane, of all things. You'd think it would be that time that Poison cleaned up the wound on his cheek that it had self-inflicted in a moment of purely accidental moment of idiocy when he had tried to do some fancy trick with its blaster and almost lasered its face off. Poison had cradled his jaw so gently and they called him an idiot with a sharp edge to their voice, but their hands were shaking and their eyes were so warm as they gazed down at him. Surprisingly, it wasn't that moment, although that was surely a catalyst.
No, the moment during which Fun Ghoul fell irrevocably in love with Party Poison was purely simple, it was the height of a blistering day but Poison was paying it no mind, slaving away at a slab of plywood with a handful of paintbrushes. "It's nothing big." They had said when Ghoul had asked after emerging to make sure they hadn't gotten heatstroke. "Just a little thing for Doctor D's place."
It was way more than a little thing , it was a beautiful concoction of colour and fluidity and the way Poison was crouched in front of it when Ghoul stepped out of the diner meant the first thing he saw was their impeccable profile, hair falling in their eyes and paint smudged on their cheek. And sure, their shirt was drenched in sweat and they smelled like roadkill but then they had turned to him with that crooked grin, wiping the moisture from their forehead and leaving a streak of bright green paint behind. The sight was just the truest essence of Party Poison that he had yet to see and he fell immediately and violently in love. It didn't help that they were so fucking cute , either.
Then the tightness in his chest started. It was a couple weeks after his revelation, he had been coughing for days and at first first he blamed it on one too many smokes then he diagnosed it as just a regular case of zoneflu that his shitty immune system made him catch. But there was no denying it for long, especially when one day, he excused himself from a conversation where he may have been staring at Party Poison to run to the bathroom when he felt that tickle in the back of his throat, warning of an oncoming cough. But this time it was accompanied by a slight nausea and when he coughed until that itch in his throat died he felt something slimy caught on his tongue. He spat it out and in the midst of a wad of phlegm and saliva was a dark petal. The Witch's Bloom had figured him out.
Things started to go downhill from there. Now he knew what the problem was and he knew that it might very well kill him. What a way to go, imagine surviving so many impossible odds on the battlefield just for the Witch to decide to kill you slowly while you have no way to escape. There were outs, of course there were, but none that Fun Ghoul was willing to take.
After a few more weeks, during which he kept his curse hidden and the petals appeared more often, he had everyone believing he just had one nasty flu. But then one morning he had a worse coughing fit than usual and tears pricked in his eyes as his lungs and throat protested. He finally coughed up the blockage into his palm just for his heart to drop.
He had just sat there for a while, staring down at the splotch of colour in his hand. Eventually he wiped it away with a rag, shoving the bundle into his pocket to throw it away later. He sat, taking a few deep breaths as he tried to collect himself and forget what the blood that had suddenly appeared with the petals meant. When he finally emerged from his room to join the others Jet spoke to him first.
“That sounded like a nasty one.” He said with a frown. Ghoul had shrugged, glancing at Party and immediately looking away when he felt his chest tighten. He felt a different type of sickness well up in his throat and his eyes started to water again.
“Yeah.” It finally mumbled, “Um, I’m gonna get some fresh air today, maybe some sun will clear it up. Kid, mind if I take the bike?”
Kobra drummed his fingers on the tabletop for a moment before sighing. “Go ahead.” He replied, nodding to where the keys were by the entrance. “Be gentle with her.”
“Always am.” Ghoul replied, grinning crookedly but half-heartedly as he turned for the door.
“Need any company?” He heard that cursed voice ask and he only just stopped himself from looking back at them.
“Nah.” He answered, “Don't worry, I’ll be back in a while.”
It heard Poison hum. “Alright. Stay safe.” They urged.
“Thanks.” He replied, a relieved breath stuttering from his lungs when his hand closed around Kobra’s keys and he slunk out into the desert’s morning light.
It drove for a while, kicking up a cloud of sand in his wake as it pushed the bike to its limits then slowing down again while he contemplated where to go. He ended up at the Fuck You House, an ideal spot to get distracted. There were joys hanging around outside before the day got too hot, shooting at lines of cans and some just lounging in the debris. Music blared from a mound of rubbish and speakers and Fun Ghoul found himself pulling one of Kobra’s tricks, pulling two to face each other and laying his head right between them, letting the volume melt his brain and erase his worries. He focused on the bass and the warmth of the early sun on his face, drowning out the rest of the world.
After a while there was an interruption, its leg being jostled as someone kicked his boot. He cracked open his eyes, raising a hand to shield its gaze from the sun and brightness of the sky. It squinted at the killjoy who disrupted him, sitting up with a grunt when he realized who it was.
“Pony.” He greeted, ears ringing when they were free of the direct barrage of decibels. They crouched beside him with a disapproving look.
“Kobes is already deaf from tha’ little trick, wha’s got you so desperate you gotta mash your brain all to mush too?” They drawled.
Ghoul sighed, “Nothing.” it replied, coughing as he started to push himself to his feet. It had been a few hours, it should start heading back. “I dunno, I’m just all-“ He made a few wild gestures. “Wacked, y’know?”
Pony made a noncommittal noise and stood beside him, hip cocked in a way that reminded it of Poison. He coughed some more, spitting more bloodied petals into his fist that he quickly hid. He cleared his throat and made to move , “I should get going.”
“Still got that zones flu, huh? Pony said, eyeing him. “Hold it, Funny.” They said, gesturing for him to follow them to a weathered sofa on the porch. “C‘mon, tell lil’ old Ponyboy wha’s wrong.”
“You’re not my shrink.” Ghoul complained but followed them as they walked away anyway.
“Bullshit.” Pony returned, “I might as well be. All four o’ya ‘ave cried on my shoulder at some point.”
They plopped onto the old sofa, patting the spot beside them. Fun Ghoul grimaced, “No, Pony.” it sighed, “It’s something I gotta deal with myself.”
That made them narrow their eyes. “I did not just hear ya’ say that.” They growl, “A killjoy ain’t alone, Ghoulie-boy. Especially you, so don’ fuck around like ya’ are.”
“I ain’t fucking ‘round, Pony.” Ghoul groans, crossing his arms. “A distracted killjoy is a dead one, lean on your crew an’ all that yadda yadda. I know. It’s not that bad.” He lies, “Trust me.”
“I know you, Fun Ghoul.” Pony says seriously, “You’re not one t’ bottle things up. I don’ think I’ve ever seen you shut yer’ friends out before. And this- ” they make a loose gesture at him. “You all alone out ‘ere at the fuck yer’ house at eleven in the morn, wallowin’ between speakers like Kobra Kid and bein’ all bitchy t’me- it ain’t you. So I’ll ask again- what in the fresh hell is wrong?”
“Ugh, Witch on a stick, Pony.” Ghoul groans, coughing a little. “I hate that you notice things.” It complains, eyeing the seat beside Pony before sinking to the sofa beside them, putting his head in his hands. “I just really don’t want anyone to know.”
“Hey.” Pony says softly and Ghoul feels an arm wrap around his shoulders. “You know I can keep a secret. Unless it’s something life threatening, y’can trust me.”
Ghoul knows it was sort of meant to be a joke but his throat closed up and he cast a fearful glance sideways at his friend before looking down again.
“Oh.” Pony whispers, realizing, “Well, in that case-”
“They can’t know.” Ghoul interjects, looking back at Pony with a new determination in its eyes. “I’ll-” Actually, he isn’t sure what he’d do, but he’d do something. But before he can finish his threat Pony interrupts him again.
“Ghoulie, if yer’ in danger-” They start, voice raising. “Either you tell me how or I go to the Doc n’ yer’ boys and tell em’ you’re hiding something, leave it to Pois an’ the old man to weasel it out of ya.”
Ghoul gulps, knowing Pony was dead serious and if they went to anyone else it would be over for him before it even began. “Fuck you, Pony.” He sighed, curling in on himself and coughing for a moment. “Leavin’ me no choice like this.”
“Spit it out. Who’dya piss off so bad they want you dead this time?” They ask and Fun Ghoul finds a sick irony in their first words as he feels that incessant itch in his throat.
“The Witch.”
He looks back at Pony when he’s met with silence. They’re looking back at him. “She’s after you?” They ask softly.
Ghoul shrugs. “She’s cursed me.” He clarifies, “I’ve got the bloom, Pony.”
“Oh.” Pony breathes, “ Shit , Ghoulie.”
“Yeah.”
“Just tell whoever it is, idiot.” They hiss, Ghoul shakes his head vehemently.
“I already know they don’t feel the same way.” He says bitterly, “But they’d try to save me, force themself to love me back that way even if it’s not real. I can’t make them doom themself to that, can’t let em’ get stuck with me. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“But it’s fair to kill yourself rather than fucking try ?!” Pony exclaims, “Whoever they are I bet they wouldn’t want you to die for their- their what? What would you even be taking away from them? Nothing as important as you , that’s for sure!”
Ghoul shrinks away from Pony’s raised voice, looking around to see if they caught any other killjoy’s attention. “You're probably right but still- they’d be stuck with this burden now. Love me or I die? It’s fucking toxic. It would ruin the relationship we already have. Everything would change. I wouldn’t be able to handle that. I don’t-” He breaks off into a short coughing fit. “I don’t have any options.”
Pony sighs shakily, “You could get the cut?” they suggest, Ghoul shakes its head again.
“I’d rather die a million times loving them than continue living without knowing why I ever did.” He says with finality.
Pony shakes his head. “Well you don’t get to decide for everyone else whether they get to fucking lose you or not.” They snap, “You may think you’re being selfless, sacrificing yourself for someone’s happiness or whatever but you’re not, that’s just being goddamn selfish. You have to take the risk.”
They sigh and their voice softens. “You’re brave, Ghoulie. One of the bravest killjoys I know. This won’t be the thing to shut you down.”
Ghoul let’s out a weak cough and looks at Pony miserably. “I don’t know.” He says. “I’m not so sure this time.”
Pony squeezes him from where they still have their arm around his shoulders. “I know you can survive this.” They say, “And I’ll even give you a chance to tell yer’ boys about this yourself, but if ya’ wait too long I will tell them you have the bloom.”
“I know you will.” Ghoul says, letting out a weak, wet chuckle. “You’re a good friend, Pony- and I hate you for it.”
“I hate you too, ya’ self-sacrificing bastard.” Pony returns, leaning over to smack a wet kiss on Ghoul’s cheek. “Everything’ll be alright, Ghoulie-boy.”
Ghoul shoves them off after that, pushing himself to his feet. “We’ll see.” He returns. “I’m going to head out.”
Pony nods and Ghoul turns to leave when they don’t speak again. He’s a few steps away when they do.
“Hey, who is it?” Pony asks. “You never said.”
“Yeah.. I’m not giving you any more leverage over me.” Ghoul says with a little smile.
Pony shrugs, “Worth a try.” they say. “But hey, if you want.. come find me tomorrow, I got some of the good stuff from Tommy. Could be a good distraction for the day, or maybe a confidence booster.”
Ghoul smiles more genuinely at the suggestion, turning to leave again. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He calls over his shoulder, “See ya, Pony. And fuck you.”
It hears them laugh behind it and coughs as he makes for the bike. He leaves another couple petals in the sand before he drives away.
- - - - - - -
So it had come to this.
Fun Ghoul looked up from the can of Power Pup it was half-heartedly picking at when someone saddles up beside the booth. “Hey.” He greeted, voice rasping slightly.
“Hey.” Poison returned, “We’re going on a raid.”
“Shit, alright.” Ghoul says, perking up. “Let me get ready.”
Ghoul stiffens when Poison’s hand lands on his shoulder. “You’re not coming.” They say softly, smiling sadly when Ghoul pouts. “You’re sick, you need to stay and rest.”
“I can still fight just fine.” Ghoul protests, “And all I’ve been doing is resting. I’m bored .”
“Sorry, Fun.” Poison replies, “But until you’re feeling better, you should probably stay out of the field.”
Ghoul knew it was sensible, the best thing to do for the team, but it still hurt to not be included.
“Yeah, okay.” It sighs, slumping back into the booth and biting it's lip. “Will you guys be alright a killjoy short?”
“It’ll be a quick one. And it’s a stealth mission so with any luck we’ll be in and out without ever being detected.” Poison explains, “We’ll be alright.”
Thought you didn’t believe in luck , Ghoul felt tempted to say. Instead he sighs, “Fine.” He relents, “Good luck, see you later.”
Poison smiles at him but it looks strained. They share another goodbye and Fun Ghoul watches with something uncomfortable swirling in his gut as the three killjoys file out the door and a minute later, the trans am sped westbound towards Battery City.
In the weeks since telling Show Pony, Ghoul had quarantined in it’s room as the bloody wads of pedals turned to small blooms that felt like they were tearing up his throat every time they came up. And that’s similarly how Fun Ghoul spent the next few hours, hacking up flowers and blood while it tinkered on a few projects, being as useful as he could be in his cursed state.
As the day’s youth faded Ghoul grew antsy. A raid would normally take a few hours but Poison had said it would be quick. A stealth mission, ‘in and out.’ This was taking just a little too long for an in and out . As evening approached, Ghoul knew they must have encountered a couple hiccups and sat waiting by a window, growing more anxious with each minute that passed.
Headlights finally greeted it just when he had started to drift off, eyes fluttering and head sinking before it would jolt itself back awake. He watched the car pull to a quick stop and the doors open, three figures emerging from within,
He coughed just a little as he opened the door to greet them but then cursed and watched in horror as Poison limped inside, an arm wrapped around his middle and the other hung over Jet Star’s shoulders as she supported them. Kobra followed behind them, his face lacking expression but his eyes tired.
“I thought you said it was going to be quick! And stealth! Fuck, are you okay?!” Ghoul asked, following them to where Jet guided Poison to the sofa, where they collapsed, sinking into it with a groan.
“I’m alright, I’ve had worse.” Poison assures, smiling crookedly at Ghoul. “Sorry we took so long, pumpkin.” They apologize, but their words just make Ghoul turn to cough into his elbow, wheezing a little as they hurry to speak.
“What happened?” He rasped, looking in turn to Kobra and Jet, who was behind the counter fetching the med kit.
“It was going fine, we were almost done when we were ambushed.” Kobra explained, “We must’ve missed an alarm or something 'cause they found us. We got cornered in a storage room, had to fight our way out.”
Jet returned with rags, iodine and couple bandages, the usual arrangement to clean wounds. Luckily it seemed that none of them had anything worse than a few scrapes beside Poison, who still had an arm wrapped around his middle.
“Were you shot?” Ghoul asked shakily, Poison’s eyes fluttered back open from where he had closed them.
“No, thank god.” They replied, “Broken rib or two, I think. Fell down some fucking stairs, of all things.”
Ghoul let out a relieved sigh that turned into a dry cough.
“Hey, we may have faced more trouble than we wanted to but at least it wasn’t a complete failure.” Poison said, “We got some good supplies and even-”
They rummaged in their jacket pocket, pulling out a clattering bottle and tossing it to Ghoul, who barely caught it. “What’re these?” He asked, turning it over in his hands. Pills.
“Antivirals.” Poison said, “For your flu. It’s the good shit, nothing like what we got out here.”
Fun Ghoul stared at the bottle with a growing horror. His stomach twisted in discontent, bile rising in his throat. He realized Poison was still speaking. “We might’ve had to go a little out of the way for 'em, but it’s totally worth it if it gets our detonator back to a hundred percent.”
“Was the storage room you got caught in at the pharmacy?” He asked in a barely audible voice.
“Yeah.” Poison answered casually, “But if we didn’t go someone else would’ve, don’t beat yourself up over it. Like I said, totally worth it.”
Ghouls chest tightened and his eyes started to water. He looked at the pill bottle and felt sick. “I don’t even-” He choked, “Fuck, this is all my fault.” he gasped, starting to cough again. He dropped the pill bottle and sank to his knees as panic and guilt washed over him in tidal waves. “I’m a fuck, I’m such a fucking bastard.” He cries, “I’m- you could’ve been killed today because I wasn’t there when I could’ve been there if I just fucking- God, I’ve been putting the whole team in jeopardy because of how fucked I am. I’m so sorry .”
He stutters it all out between sobs and violent coughs. Poison had pushed themself off the couch to wrap their arms around Ghoul as he rocked back and forth. “Hey, you can’t help being sick.” They spoke in a gentle tone he didn’t deserve. “You haven’t been putting anyone in jeopardy.”
Ghoul shook his head, pressing his face into Poisons shoulder, soaking their shirt in snot and tears as each breath became harder to suck in than the last.
“No. No, no, no. You don’t- you go out of your way to get fucking pills I don’t even need, that won’t even work, help that I don’t deserve all because I’m a bastard, I’m a liar. I’m a selfish fucking coward.”
The last few words barely escape, strained over sharp coughs and gasps for breath. He can’t breathe. Why can’t he breathe?
He pulls away from Poison and doubles over, grasping at his chest as he wheezes.
Poison is grasping his shoulders in a bruising grip and panicking. He can’t hear anything that they’re saying, wrapped up in his own panic. He bangs on his sternum, trying to dislodge the blockage in his windpipe.
He registers a larger hand on his back. Jet. “Ch-choking.” He manages to gasp with the minimal air he has, clawing at his throat. Poison’s hands leave his shoulders and he instead feels arms wrap around him from behind. He’s jolted roughly as they thrust their hands upward into the area just below his ribcage. He chokes and they do it two more times before he wrenches over again, expelling the bloody flower from his windpipe with a painful groan. He sinks back against Jet Star, chest heaving as he sucks in painful breaths.
Screw the fact that the others could’ve died- he could’ve just died. He finally realizes this, realizes just what hiding this ailment really means for him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whimpers, “I'm not ready to die, I’m sorry.”
He feels his hair being brushed from where it sticks to his face with shaking hands and forces his eyes to open, gazing upon the face of an angel. Poison’s face is right in front of his and they look so scared . How could he do this to them? “I’m so sorry.” He cries again and Poison shakes their head, taking one of the rags Jet initially brought over for their wounds to wipe the tears, snot, and blood from Ghoul’s face oh so gently.
“Don’t be sorry.” Their voice reaches him as his ears finally stop ringing from the panic attack. “ I’m sorry, I’m sorry we didn’t realize. It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.” They stammer, assuring themself as much as Ghoul.
He now realizes he’s laying back against Jet and he’s glad he can’t see his face. But he can see Kobra, kneeling to their right and wearing an expression that Ghoul’s never seen on him before. He looks pissed off but mostly terrified, he’s never seen Kobra look so terrified. It’s a look that scares Ghoul too.
Slowly, he sits up. Jets arms are still wrapped around him, but they’ve loosened to rest around his waist. His gaze locks on the flower. It’s bigger than any of the blooms he’s coughed up before and its petals are coated in a disgusting film of blood and phlegm.
He looks at Poison again, meets their wide eyes and lets himself be drawn into their arms instead. He wraps his arms around them when they pull his head to their chest, petting his hair. They’re shaking, breath stuttering. Ghoul realizes they’re crying. He buries his face into their collarbone, trying to let them know he’ll be okay even if he isn’t sure he will be himself. But by the Witch, he wants to be.
Eventually he zones out, relaxing as he draws closer to the verge of passing out. He’s pulled to his feet, guided down the hall and laid down in bed. Someone lays beside him and he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow.
When he wakes up sunlight is streaming through the window and his throat feels all dry and torn up. He registers the mass of a body beside him, turns his head and sees their profile. They’re awake, staring at the ceiling. They look exhausted, old and worn like they only do after the worst battles.
“Did you sleep?” He questions in a rasp. Poison’s eyes widen and they sit up, looking down at him. Their eyes meet, Poison’s are red and swollen.
He sits up too, slowly. Sheets fall to his torso and he rubs his sore throat. “I’m sorry.” He says again, glancing away from Poison then back again. “I'll-I'll be okay. I want to be okay.”
Poison’s shoulders slump in what Ghoul thinks in relief but then they turn. Ghoul thinks they’re getting up to leave but they just retrieve something from the dresser, passing it back to him. A bottle of water. He takes it, nodding thankfully and gulping down half of it in one go. He sputters a little bit and Poison looks like they’re going to panic but Ghoul waves them off. It’s not a flower, not yet.
He screws the cap back on the water bottle, sighing and sinking into himself.
“Why wouldn’t you tell us?” Poison asks, “How could you let it get this bad? At this rate you’ll be dead in just a few-”
“I won’t die.” He interjects. “I know, I'm sorry. I didn’t realize- I thought I was ready to- but I never realized what it meant, that I’d be gone, what that would do to you. I’m sorry.” He explains. “I was scared, I’m so scared, I didn’t want everything to change, I didn’t want you to have that burden- I couldn’t- can’t get it cut, I just can’t . I’d rather die than that. But I didn’t want you to have to make that decision of whether to-”
He stops and sucks in a breath, tearing up again as he prays a coughing fit doesn’t interrupt this moment. “I… I don't want you to have to force yourself to love me like that in order to save me, I didn’t want you to have the burden of my life in your hands. It’s fucked and I thought I was being selfless.. making it easier for you cause you’re wild and free and refuse to be tethered down and then you’d be stuck with me but-” He sniffs and shakes his head. He watches as the realization dawns in Poison’s eyes and their expression goes slack.
“Fun Ghoul…” They breathe, speaking in something that's barely a whisper as they shift closer to him. “Oh Ghoulie.. sweetheart.. how could you think I’d have to force myself to love you?”
Their hand rises, cupping his jaw. He’s frozen, staring back at them with wide eyes. A tear wells up in their eye, carves a path down their cheek. “How could you think I don’t love you already?” They coo, wiping the tears off his own cheeks. He shudders as he realizes it’s getting easier for him to breathe. “God, Ghoul. How could I not ? You’re insane, you’re perfect . You’re brave and wild and I’ve never seen anyone be able get in your way; you’re so fucking passionate and loud , you’re our spitfire- our detonator- and fuck , I was obsessed with you from the moment you showed up in our lives. This handsome, adorable guy that didn’t take shit from anyone was hanging out with us for some reason? By the Witch, if you didn’t build yourself a little birdhouse in my soul and hole yourself up in there, Ghoulie.”
“Oh.”
Party Poison cradles his face, scoots closer. “Yeah, oh .” They echo wetly, “Fuck, this whole time you’ve been sick you’ve had the fucking bloom, how could you put yourself through that for so long?” they ask, “Of course I’d love you.”
Fun Ghoul chokes on a sob. “I’m sorry.” He says, putting his hand over Poison’s. “I’m so sorry.”
Poison shakes their head, wipes their face dry. “No more apologizing. It’s okay. You’ll be okay, we’ll be okay.” They repeat, leaning in and kissing the salt from his cheeks.
“It’s gone.” Ghoul voices. “I can feel it. I can breathe.”
Poison’s responding inhalation is shaky, but they’re grinning. They’re grinning and they don’t look scared anymore and they kiss the tears from his cheekbone one more time before they pull him against them completely so that they’re wrapped in each other’s arms. “Thank the Witch.” They sigh into the crook of his neck. Ghoul presses his face into Poison's hair and takes a few deep breaths, still reveling at how easy it is to breathe now.
They stay wrapped in each other until their heart rates have calmed and their eyes have dried back out. Only then does Poison pull back to cradle his face again and gaze into his eyes and only then do they slowly lean closer until their lips slot perfectly together. Party Poison tastes like tears and bubblegum and Fun Ghoul wonders if Poison can taste the blood from last night on his tongue.
When they separate they sit for a bit longer with their foreheads pressed together, grinning and breathing each other in until one of them dares to break the silence.
“You need to talk to Kobra and Jet.” Poison eventually voices, “Let them know you’re not, um.. sick anymore.”
“Right.” Ghoul echoes, leaning forward and tilting his head for one more quick kiss. Poison drinks him in for a few moments before Ghoul reluctantly pulls away again, standing up and stretching. Poison follows him up, smiling softly when Ghoul nervously looks back at them.
“None of us are mad at you, sweetheart.” They say, because apparently they can read his mind. “Just scared.”
He nods, takes a deep breath, opens the bedroom door and pads down the hall to the front of the diner.
He spots Kobra Kid and Jet Star on the sofa, sides pressed together and heads leaned towards each other as they talk quietly. They look exhausted too and once again it strikes Fun Ghoul just how much his friends care about him. How lucky he is to have them. He was a fool to think things would have changed so drastically if he had just told them all in the beginning.
Jet notices them first, spotting them in the corner of his eye and doing a double take, looking up and standing abruptly to rush over and wrap Fun Ghoul in her arms. Kobra’s right behind her and when Jet steps back Kobra takes his turn, grabbing Fun Ghoul by the shoulders and looking him up and down with an expression so broken that Fun Ghoul is rendered speechless. “Idiot.” Kobra snaps, but the word lacks any bite. “Don’t ever scare us like that again.”
Ghoul starts to tear up again and nods quickly. “Sorry.” He says, looking aside when he feels a hand splay over his back.
“Hey, what’d I say ’bout that? No more apologies.” Poison reminds, giving him a supportive smile and rubbing his back .
He can’t help but smile back. “Sorr- I mean, yessir.”
Jet pulls him into their arms again and he hugs them back. “Everything will be okay.” He says, “We’ll all help you through this, you’ll survive the bloom just like you’ve survived everything else this desert has thrown at you. Who’s it for? You need to tell them.”
“I know.” Ghoul returns, a little muffled by Jet’s jacket. “Thank you, I’m so lucky to have you three. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys.” Poison seems to let that sorry slide as it was a necessary one. Ghoul pulls back from Jet, glancing at Poison and smiling. “But it’s um, it’s actually already alright.”
“It’s alright?” Jet echoes, Ghoul steps back and faces her and Kobra.
“Yeah, it was for Poison.” He says, feeling a warm hand slide into his. He smiles and squeezes it softly. “I realized that I was being a selfish fool and told them when I woke up.”
“We sorted everything out back there.” Poison spoke up from beside him, nodding down the hall then leaning their head on his shoulder. “The bloom is gone. No more apologies. It’s time to just cherish the things we love.”
Ghoul grins and blushes, pressing a kiss to the top of Poison’s head and watching both Jet Star’s and Kobra Kid’s exhausted faces melt into a surprised, joyful relief.
“Cherish the things we love.” Jet echoes softly. “Yeah, that sounds good to me.”