Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Just a quick glossary in case you're not familiar with the slang :3

Battery city: A city controlled completely by Better Living Industries. A dystopia of conformity
Better Living Industries or BL/ind: Controls Battery City. Limits the freedom of and brainwashes/drugs Battery City residents
The Zones: The areas surrounding Battery City
Killjoy (or ‘Joy): A rebel who lives in The Zones
Draculoids or Exterminators: People brainwashed by Better Living Industries tasked with killing or subduing rebels/killjoys
Scarecrow/Crow: Higher ranking than Draculoids or Exterminators, takes orders directly from The Director, who runs Better Living Industries
Puppy: Youngest member of a crew, used as an endearing/sibling term
Destroya: A giant robot and failed BL\ind experiment. Seen as a god-like machine by droids, can be used to replace words like “God” or “Jesus”
Phoenix Witch: Cares for the souls of the dead. Also can be used to replace words like “God” or “Jesus”
Power Pup: Originally intended to be dog food but is also the main source of food for killjoys and other people in The Zones
Batt Food: Any food better than Power Pup, usually smuggled out from Battery City
Ray Gun/blaster: Guns that shoot laser beams and the weapon of choice for Killjoys and Dracs. Usually specially customised for each Killjoy
Clap: Fight
Dusted/Ghosted: Dead
Shiny: Cool/awesome
Cage-mad: Really crazy
Zoneweed: A drug common in the zones (in this story it has the same effect of real weed)
Lighthouse: A well-known place where killjoys can stay if need be
Un-aide: A killjoy with no crew
Sand worm: A derogatory term for killjoys, mostly used by BL/ind higher-ups
Top left: No lie
Cordial: Alcohol
Porno-droid: Androids from Battery City used for sex (also a derogatory term for a Zones sex worker)
Zoned: High on zoneweed
Ritalin rat: Drug addict
Raindead: Hungover
Smiley: Suspected to be a BL\ind informant
Sand Pup: Someone who was born in The Zones
Chilly: Suspicious
Carbons: Money - the currency in The Zones
Sparkies: Disabled killjoys (can be derogatory or just a describing word)
Cemetery Drive: A place where killjoys were ambushed by Dracs. Their things are left untouched as a sign of respect. Killjoys passing through will fall silent as a sign of respect.
Mailbox: A place where dusted killjoys masks are taken so their souls will be safely passed along to the Phoenix Witch
Battery Acid: A type of drug. In this story is similar to MDMA
Gravehead: Killjoys who are the last of their crew and have gone crazy with grief and loneliness
Screwhead: Someone who parties way too much and makes dumbass decisions

Chapter Text

Party Poison laid back in the sand, closing their eyes and letting their body relax for the first time in what felt like days. Their crew (which consisted of their brother Kobra Kid, their best friend Jet Star and a young girl, usually just referred to as ‘Pup’, ‘Girlie’ or ‘The Girl') had run into a small group of Draculoids earlier in the day and Party had sustained an injury to their thigh. It was nothing Jet couldn’t fix, just a scrape, but it left them exhausted and they just wanted to lay in the sun and relax for the next week.
There was a thump as something landed in the sand next to Party’s head and before they could think they were in a crouching position, ray gun pointed in front of them, trained directly on – their kid brother, who had his hands up in surrender and a sheepish smile on his face.
“Destroya, Kobra,” Party laid back in the sand, exhaling heavily. Apparently the adrenaline from their clap with the Dracs hadn’t yet worn off. “’m gonna accidentally dust you one of these days.”
Kobra Kid shuffled towards them and nudged them gently in the side with his foot. Party removed their sunglasses and peered up at him.
‘Pony is here.’ Kobra signed with his hands. Apparently today was a non-verbal day.
Party scowled. “Tell them they can shove their rollerskates up their ass and fuck off.”
Kobra shook his head but grinned, nudging them with his foot again.
“’m gonna deliver that ‘joy to the Phoenix Witch myself.” Party mumbled as Kobra held out a gloved hand to help them stand.
Party didn’t actually have any ill wishes towards Show Pony – they were just in a terrible mood and Pony happened to show up at a terrible time.
But was there really ever a ‘good time’ in the Zones?
Party winced as they put weight on their injured leg and Kobra casted them a worried look. They brushed him off, limping towards The Diner.
“Yer gonna fry what’s left of your brain cells sitting out in the radiation for that long.” Show Pony said in a way of greeting.
Party scowled and slumped into the booth opposite Pony. “What's so important that ya have ta make me miss out on my beauty rest, Pony?”
“I don’t think beauty rest would do you much good, Poison.” Pony grinned, but their smile dropped when they realised Party wasn’t in the mood. “Dr D wants to repay yer crew for fixing his wheelchair after the clap the other day.”
Party perked up, sitting up straight and resting their palms on the table. To hide their excitement, they joked, “Is it a porno-droid?”
Pony rolled their eyes. “There's an abandoned warehouse just inside Zone Five, so not that far from here.” Pony produced a pencil from Destroya knows where and started drawing a rough map on the table. “Just follow Route Guano until you reach Zone Five then follow this,” Pony continued showing them directions on the map.
When Pony finished his spiel, Party squinted at the map, trying to commit it to memory.
“I gotta go, Poison.” Pony stood, surprisingly steady on their rollerblades. “Things to see, people to do.” They grinned.
“See ya later, Pony.” Killjoys never said goodbye. It was bad luck. “Thank you for yer help and extend our thanks ta Dr D.”
Pony bowed dramatically then sped off outside.

After a very long and loud match of rock-paper-scissors, they decided Kobra would stay at The Diner with The Girl while Jet and Party sped off in the Trans Am, Mad Gear and Missile Kid playing quietly in the background. Jet kept watch for danger with a pair of binoculars while Party drove.
Route Guano was a route they had to be particularly careful on. It was a highway that ran through all of The Zones all the way to Battery City, and was a common hunting ground for Dracs and Exterminators. Party and Jet kept the conversation to a minimum until they turned onto a side track neither had noticed before. They both relaxed and turned up the music, but still kept their guard up. You could never afford to be completely relaxed in The Zones.
Party found a place where the ‘Am would be hidden from the road but would be easy to leave quickly if need be, and cut the engine.
Excitement mixed with nerves fizzled in Party's belly. Depending on the content of the warehouse, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime.
As Jet struggled to unlatch the rusty door, Party loosened their ray gun in its holster.
Jet opened the door, hinges squeaking loudly, and Party stepped inside, sweeping the room with their gun. After deeming it safe they waved Jet inside and closed the door. Enough light filtered through the gaps in the building for them to see.
“Keep your gun close.” Party muttered to Jet. “Dunno what’s hiding.”
Jet nodded and cautiously stepped towards a crate, trying to leaver it open with her hands. After watching him struggle for a few moments Party helped and they both managed to get it off.
Party gasped. “Is that fucking Batt food?” They turned to Jet, who was grinning widely. “You bring a bag?”
Jet darted out of the warehouse and Party took the chance to go through the food. Their mouth watered as they sorted through the only partially rotten fruit and muesli bars.
A heavy weight slammed into them from behind and their ray gun flew out of their grasp and across the room. All the breath was knocked out of them as they hit the ground hard. They struggled to roll over, kicking and clawing furiously. Their hands tangled in a greasy mop of hair and they tugged, making their assailant yowl in pain. It gave them the much-needed leverage to roll over and come face-to-face with their attacker. They were met with a face twisted horribly into a snarl and eyes filled with anger and fear. Hands wrapped around their throat and they clawed at their attackers face.
“Oi! Geroff ‘em or I’ll blast ya, ya mangy bastard.” Jet had his gun aimed directly at Party’s attacker. Her arm was steady and gaze determined, but Party wasn’t fooled. They knew Jet’s missing eye affected his aim to the point where he would most likely miss and get Party instead. It was too risky of a shot to actually take.
It seemed to work, though, as Party’s attacker went still and his grip relaxed, allowing Party to shove him off and scramble away and to their feet, gasping for air. When they were able to breathe properly again, Party crossed the room to pick up their ray gun, not taking their eyes off of the man crouching on the floor for a second.
Feral was the only word to describe him. His long black hair was a greasy, tangled mess and he had a long, thick, jagged scar extending from the corner of his lip to the middle of his cheek. He was crouched on the floor like an animal, his eyes wide and terrified.
He had attacked in a moment of fear, and down on the floor like that, probably wouldn’t be much of a threat. Plus, he appeared unarmed.
“Party.” Jet, getting the same idea as Party, put her ray gun back in its holster and gestured for Party to do the same.
The man in front of them relaxed slightly but was still on guard, eyes flitting back and forth between the two.
“Who the fuck are you?” Party spat, still visibly pissed from the sudden attack.
The man just stared at them.
“Do you... Talk?” Jet asked, much gentler than Party.
The man slowly turned his head to Jet but didn’t give him a reply.
“Did Dr D send you here too?” Jet continued. “He didn’t tell us there would be anybody else.”
The man shook his head, still not uttering a word.
“So... what are you doing here, then?” Party asked. “Do you live here?”
The man nodded his head.
There was a moment of silence while both of them thought of how to continue.
“Oh. We’re both very sorry for trespassing. I’m Jet Star and this is Party Poison, Jet and Party for short.” Jet knelt down so they were eye-level. “Do ya have a name?”
The man avoided eye contact, looking at the floor. He took a long time to reply, biting his lip. “Um, can’t remember.”
Jet and Party glanced at each other, frowning.
“Where’s yer crew?” Jet asked.
He didn’t reply.
Jet studied him for a few moments before slowly standing up, like he was trying to not startle a cornered animal.
“Uhm, we were kinda tryin’ ta gather some food here, if that’s okay with you?” There was an attitude to Party’s voice that they didn’t intend. Jet shot them a look that they ignored. “It's just, this was kinda a reward and we weren’t expecting a cage-mad motherfucker to come mess it up.”
The man scowled and Jet elbowed them.
“Take what you want.” The man mumbled, quiet enough they almost didn’t hear it. “Don’ need it.”
Jet hesitated but Party clapped their hands, startling the man still on the floor, and took the bag from where Jet had dropped it on the ground. “C’mon, Jet. We haven’t got all day.”
Jet quietly thanked the man then helped Party pry open boxes and load whatever they needed into the bag. They found many crates of food, as well as batteries, clothes, hygiene items and other bits-and-bobs that would be fun or useful.
“Is that fuckin’ zoneweed?” Party cackled. “Fuckin’ shiny.”
Jet rolled her eyes and grinned. “Fuckin’ ritalin rat.”
Party held their hand to their chest in mock offence. “How dare you!”
As Jet threw his head back and laughed, Party noticed the man sitting in the corner, watching them curiously.

Party was ecstatic over the new supplies, so much so, they forgot about the man in the corner until Jet spoke to him.
“Yer can come with us, if yer like.” Jet said gently. “Party and I live in a lighthouse, with the rest of our crew.”
The man stared at Jet for a few moments, then shook his head, hair falling in his face.
“Well, if you change yer mind, we’re at The Diner in Zone Six.”
There was no acknowledgement from the man.
Jet sighed and smiled weakly at Party, both exiting the warehouse and getting in the ‘Am.
“I feel bad.” Jet said on the ride back. “We can’t just leave a poor un-aide out there by themself.”
“We left him enough supplies. When he runs out he can start working for it, like everyone else.” Party said bitterly. The adrenaline from the attack had worn off and the wound in their thigh was aching. “He didn’t wanna come, anyway. Better off by ‘imself.”
Party could tell Jet was still uneasy, but didn’t receive a reply.
“We gotta ask Dr D where this stuff came from.” Party said after a long silence.
“And how it hasn’t been taken yet.” Jet added.
Party nodded. “It’s kinda chilly.”

When they walked in the door to The Diner, Party braced for ray guns pointed in their face. But it seemed that Kobra and The Girl had seen the ‘Am as they were both relaxed, listening to the radio. They both jumped up when they saw them enter. The Girl hugged both Jet and Party while Kobra hugged Party and gave Jet a fist bump. It didn’t offend Jet that Kobra barely touched him. She understands that Kobra only liked to touch Party.
“What did ya find?” The Girl asked, holding onto Party’s clothes and looking up at them.
Party grinned. “C’mon, we’ll show you.”
The Girl ran ahead of them to the car and waited impatiently for them to unlock it, then opened the bag and gasped. “Is that Batt food?”
“It sure is!” Party ruffled her hair.
“Shiny!” She looked up at them with sad-puppy eyes. “Can I have some?”
Party sighed dramatically. “I guess so.”
“Yay!” She took a piece of fruit and tried to hand a piece to Kobra, but had to wait a moment until he had finished flapping his hands around in excitement.
Party smiled at him. They loved that out in The Zones, he had the freedom to stim whenever he needed to and would never be judged. Back in Battery City, he didn’t get that choice. Party shivered at the emerging memories and pushed them away, focusing on their crew, who looked overjoyed.
When they finished putting everything in its place, they dealt out the random nick-nacks. Jet got a box of guitar picks, Kobra got a pack of cards, The Girl got a toy gun and Party got the zoneweed and shitty makeup. After a few hours of running away from The Girl, who was trying to shoot them all with the toy gun, they all collapsed on their shared mattress in the hotel connected to the diner. Kobra, because of his sensory issues, got his own child-sized mattress next to them. Feeling safe and content, they all fell asleep instantly.

When Party woke up and sat bolt upright in bed, they weren’t sure what had woken them at first. It could’ve been a bad dream, or someone shifting in their sleep – or the sound of shuffling and things moving around in The Diner.
Party picked up their ray gun from the floor and nudged the others awake, putting a finger to their lips to signal to keep quiet.
Kobra stayed in the room to keep The Girl safe while Jet and Party snuck to The Diner as quietly as they could, crouched low to the floor with their ray guns held out in front of them.
Party’s heart pounded in their ears and their mouth went dry. They had dealt with enemies almost an uncountable number of times, but there’s never been a time where they’ve had an intruder in their home. Never.
Party got to The Diner and took aim, pulling the trigger – only to jerk the gun to the side at the last second, laser hitting the wall.
The man with long, dark hair shrieked, dropping to the floor and rolling behind the counter.
“Holy fuck, dude!” Party exclaimed. “You can’t just break into somewhere in the middle of the night without expecting to get blasted!”
The man hadn’t emerged from his spot behind the counter.
Party sighed. “You can come out. We aren’t gonna blast ya.”
Party heard shuffling and the man stood up, eyes wild and looking ready to bolt at any moment. “You said this was a lighthouse.” There was a barely-concealed tremble to his voice.
“It is.” Jet said gently. “We just weren’t expecting ya in the middle of the night. We’re sorry, friend.”
The man looked at his hands that were fiddling on the bench. He mumbled something that sounded vaguely like the word “sorry”.
“Here, sit down over there.” Jet pointed in the direction of the booths. “I’ll get ya some food.”
It wasn’t quite breakfast time, the sun had barely risen over the horizon, but it was customary in The Zones to offer any visitors food if it could be spared.
Jet placed a can of Power Pup and a piece of fruit on the table and the man slowly sat down. “I’ll go get the others.” He smiled reassuringly at the man, then slipped out of the diner.
Party sat down opposite the man, moving slowly so as not to startle him. “So what’s your deal?” When the man looked at them questioningly, they explained. “What happened to yer crew?”
The man only said, “No crew.” And started struggling with the can of Power Pup. Party sighed, but didn’t press further.
“Hello!” Came a voice from behind Party. The man jerked his head up, staring at The Girl blankly.
“This is the rest of my crew.” Party explained to the man. “This is my brother, Kobra Kid. He doesn’t talk sometimes, so don’t worry if he’s ignoring you.” Kobra smiled shyly, waving. “And that’s Girlie.”
The Girl said “Hello” again and waved. This time she got a weak wave back. She grinned widely.
The man still hadn’t touched his food but was eyeing it, like he wanted it but wasn’t sure if it was safe.
Party asked The Girl to get them all food and she complied, giving them all a can of Power Pup and a piece of fruit. Jet sat next to Party, Kobra sat at the booth next to them and The Girl sat next to the man. He shied away and his knuckles whitened on the edge of the table.
“Pup, maybe go sit with Kobra, yeah?” Party suggested.
The Girl nodded, leaping off the seat to go talk to Kobra. It looked like a one-sided conversation, but she didn’t seem to mind. The man visibly relaxed. Party was even more convinced that he reminded them of a cornered animal.
Party and Jet opened their Power Pup and dug in. The man watched them, then when he was satisfied that the food wasn’t going to kill him, he started shovelling spoonful’s into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days.
Jet took the chance to try to get to know the man better. “So, what happened to yer crew?”
The man shook his head. “No crew.” He repeated, shovelling a spoonful into his mouth. “He already asked me.” He gestured at Party.
“They.” Jet corrected instinctively.
The man paused and furrowed his brow. “What?”
“Party doesn’t like to be called ‘he’.” Jet explained. “They like to be called ‘they’.”
“But...” The man continued looking between the two, brow furrowed in confusion. Party could almost hear the gears turning in his head.
Party sucked in a breath. Most Killjoys were very open-minded and couldn’t care less who people liked or what they liked to be called, but there was the occasional Killjoy who hadn’t managed to shake off all of Battery City’s influence.
There were a few moments of silence while the man processed, then his expression softened. “Oh.”
Party exhaled in relief.
“I like being called ‘he’ and ‘she’,” Jet continued. “Kobra likes being called ‘he’ and The Girl likes being called ‘she’.”
The man nodded, seeming to understand now.
“What do you like to be called?” Jet asked.
The man took a moment to consider. “’He’.” He went back to eating.
Jet nodded. “And, whaddya mean you don’t remember yer name?”
“Don’t remember.” The man supplied helpfully.
Killjoys forgetting their names weren’t a rare occurrence, especially if they had spent too long out in the radiation or by themselves. Some killjoys didn’t have names at all.
“What if we give ya a name?” Jet suggested.
The man paused. He seemed to take a long time to consider it. Then he shook his head and continued eating, not looking at either of them.
Jet looked at Party and shrugged.
“Ya planning on staying, then?” Party asked.
The man didn't give them any clue that he had heard them. Party was about to repeat themself when the man nodded his head slowly, looking up at them through his hair like he was expecting them to kick him out.
“Shiny.” Jet smiled.
The man gave him a weak smile then looked back at his food.
“When yer done I can show you to yer room, if you’d like.” Party spoke, trying to be a good host.
The man nodded.
They sat in silence as they finished their breakfast. The sun had risen by now and Party could already feel the start of the sweltering heat.
The man finished his food and slid to the end of the seat, looking at Party expectantly. Party took the hint and stood up, gesturing for the man to follow them.
They stopped at the room next to the one they all slept in and opened the door.
“It’s a little dusty as it hasn’t been used in a while. No one really stops here because of the amount of radiation out here.” Party apologised. “This is the only other room with a proper mattress left, so yer lucky. The rest of us sleep in the room next door and there are spare blankets in there if ya need.”
The man nodded. He had been facing the floor and when he looked up to smile gratefully at Party, his eyes shone with tears.
“Oh, honey,” Party said sympathetically. “Why’re you crying?”
The man sniffled and looked at the floor again, shuffling his feet. “’m not.”
Party didn’t know what to do. Jet usually dealt with all the emotional shit. “Hey, you don’t have to hide your emotions here.” They said gently, leaning down to try to catch the man's eye. “You’ll never be hurt or judged as long as you’re in our care.”
The man didn’t speak, and there was a quiet whimper as a tear fell from his face to the floor. He was trembling with the effort of holding in his sobs.
Party shuffled his feet awkwardly, then reached out, but paused. “Can I touch you?”
The man tensed and took a few moments to reply, but eventually nodded.
Party gently touched his shoulder then reached down to soothingly rub at his back. The man tensed, sucking a breath in then relaxing. His hand shot to his mouth as he held in a choked sob. He stepped away from Party’s touch and into the room, seemingly getting himself under control.
He smiled weakly. “Thank you. So much”
Party nodded and smiled back. “Anything for a ‘joy in need.”
The man sniffled and looked away.
“You coming back to The Diner or do ya need a minute?” Party asked.
“I’ll be out there soon.”
Party nodded and headed back to The Diner, being met with raised voices.
“Party, can you believe this shit?” Jet turned on them. “Yer brother just cheated me out of me shoes!”
Kobra gaped, throwing his cards down on the table. “I won! Top left!”
Party grinned. Although they were glad Kobra had the freedom to go non-verbal when he needed to, it was nice hearing their brother's voice. “Alright, restart. Deal me in.”
Jet stuck her tongue out at Kobra, who frowned.
“And no gambling if you can’t accept how it ends!” Party scolded.
Kobra smirked at Jet.

After a round or two of poker, Party got bored so grabbed a lighter, rolling paper and the radio and headed outside. The heat was blistering so they stripped off until they were in a sleeveless shirt and jean shorts. Their favourite spot in the whole desert was behind The Diner where a tree provided just enough shade to shield them from the sun. They slipped on their sunglasses and pulled out the zoneweed, rolling a joint.
The first drag was amazing. They couldn’t remember the last time they smoked. They closed their eyes and laid back in the sand.
After a few minutes of smoking and listening to Dr D ramble on about the latest killjoy news, Party heard footsteps and looked up to see the man standing a few steps away from them, looking nervous.
“What's up?” Party asked, sitting up.
“Bored.” The man replied. “What’re you doing?”
“Smokin’ zoneweed.” Party replied. “You want some?”
The man nodded and Party patted the spot next to them. The man sat down next to them and took the offered joint, taking a hesitant drag. He started coughing instantly.
Party giggled as they took the joint back. “You ever smoked before?”
“Can’t ‘member.” The man rasped.
Party frowned but didn’t press further. There was a strange feeling in the pit of their stomach, but they ignored it, not wanting to ruin their good mood. They would come back to it later.
The man cleared his throat and took the joint to take another drag, this time managing to not cough.
Party grinned. “You’re a natural.”
The man ignored them and laid back in the sand. Party followed suit and took the joint back, taking a long drag. They held it in their lungs for as long as they could before releasing, letting their eyes close.
The two laid like that for a while, passing the joint back and forth until it burned out, then another, and another.
“Im fuckin' zoned.” Party mumbled.
The man chuckled, then Party felt something warm press into their hand. They opened their eyes and picked up the rock resting in their palm, the man avoiding looking at them. They studied it closely, turning it over and watching the sun bounce off the bits of quartz embedded into the stone.
“What's this?” Party asked.
“Rock.” The man replied.
Party rolled their eyes. “But why?”
“A gift.” He replied, still not looking at Party. “A thank you.”
Party smiled. “Well, yer so welcome, and thank you. It’s beautiful.”
The man still wouldn’t look at them, but they saw the tips of his ears turn red.
Dr D signed off and music started playing. Party gasped and stood up, stumbling in their haste. The man sat up, alarmed.
“This is my jam!” Party moved to the music, movements lazy and clumsy from the high.
The man watched him with amusement, a smile on his face and a giggle building in his throat.
Party sung to the music, voice high and off-key. Momentarily, they forgot the man was even there.
...She said come on, come on, kiss my battery
Come on, come on, I'll be your android girl
She said come on, come on, kiss my battery
Come on, come on and fuck this whole wide world...
Soon, the song ended and they sat back down on the sand, grinning.
The man still had that same bemused expression. He shook his head. “You’re weird, Party.”
Party laughed. “You’re just no fun.”
The man rolled his eyes, then pulled a bottle of clear liquid from his jacket.
Party gasped and grabbed at it, but the man pulled it away, uncapping it and taking a swig of the alcohol.
Party grinned. “Maybe you’re a bit more fun than you let on.”
Ghoul grinned back.
The silence stretched on, the man’s expression softening and turning dreamy as he zoned out.
“I know my name.” The man spoke. When he looked at Party, his eyes were shining. “Fun Ghoul.”
A wide grin stretched across Party’s face. “Ghoul for short?” Ghoul nodded and Party held their hand out to shake his. “Welcome to the party, Fun Ghoul.” They wiggled their eyebrows at their own pun.
Ghoul rolled his eyes and grinned, shaking Party’s hand.
“I think this calls for a celebration.” Party swiped the alcohol from Ghoul, taking a mouthful and grimacing at the burn.
They stayed like that for hours, getting progressively higher and more drunk as the day went on. They cranked up the radio, Party occasionally getting up to dance or sing to whatever Mad Gear song came on next.
When the music was interrupted by Dr D rambling about the latest Tommy Chow Mein deal or dusted killjoy, Party switched off the radio, claiming he was ruining the mood.
“We got ta introduce you to the others.” Party stated, using the tree to try to get to their feet. They tugged Ghoul up with them and he stumbled, falling into them. He mumbled a red-faced apology.
“If ya wanted ta cuddle ya could’ve just asked.” Party joked, earning a shove from Ghoul. It was a terrible idea as they both fell back in the hot sand, giggling their asses off.
They helped each other up again and put their arms around each other to help steady themselves. They stumbled back to The Diner, Party making fun of Ghoul’s short stature along the way.
They stumbled through the doors of The Diner and Kobra and Jet looked up in alarm.
“He has a name!” Party announced, much louder than necessary. “Everyone say hello to Fun Ghoul.” They bowed dramatically and sweeped their arms towards Ghoul.
Ghoul blushed, uncomfortable with all the attention.
The Girl and Kobra clapped, The Girl cheering loudly.
“Are you drunk?” Jet asked, raising a brow.
“Actually, I’m cross-faded.” Party said, collapsing in the seat next to Jet and leaning against her.
“Yer such a bad influence, Party,” Jet scolded. “It's barely past noon!”
Party sat up suddenly - and let the consequential dizziness fade - then put their hand to their chest in shock. “He’s the one who bought the cordial!”
Jet rolled his eyes. “The fuck did you do with our radio?”
Party squinted at Ghoul, trying to remember where they left it. “Under my tree.” They waved their hand in the general direction of the tree.
Jet sighed. “It's gonna fry out there.”
Party waved their hand dismissively. “She’ll be right.”
“And yer s'posed to be the leader.” Jet grumbled, pushing Party off him
“Hey!” Party exclaimed, stumbling. “Every leader needs to let loose once in a while.”
“‘m gonna deliver you to Korse m’self.” Jet shouted over her shoulder as she exited The Diner.
“Awe, you would miss me too much.” Party shouted back. They slid into the booth with Kobra, putting their arm around his shoulders.
“Nah, he’d give you right back after you force him to watch one of your fashion shows.” Kobra joked, shoving Party away.
“Why does no one love me?” Party wailed dramatically, sitting on the floor.
The Girl giggled and sat in their lap. “I love you, Party.”
Party grinned and ruffled her hair. "Knew I could always count on you."
Jet walked in at that moment and rolled her eyes, setting the radio down on the table and stepping over Party to sit next to Kobra.
Ghoul studied them all interact curiously, like he hadn’t seen anyone act quite like them before. Party waved him over and he sat down in front of them, criss-cross-applesauce.
The Girl pivoted in Party's lap so she was facing Ghoul, then something seemed to catch her attention and she reached out to touch Ghouls arm, running her finger along one of the long, faint scars that covered every bit of visible skin other than his face. Party hadn't noticed them before. Ghoul flinched away, drawing his arm into himself protectively.
Party leaned closer to him, trying to get a glimpse of the scars. "What are they?"
Ghoul worried his lip with his teeth and shrugged. "Dunno. Always had 'em."
"They look like pictures." The Girl said.
"Can I see?" Party asked, holding out their hand.
Ghoul eyed them warily then slowly held out his arm. Party took it and squinted, trying to see past the blur in their vision and the cotton in their head. There were stars, blobs that could've once been faces, letters on his fingers and more unidentifiable patches.
"They look like lasered-off tats." Jet said, leaning over Party's shoulder.
Party nodded, frowning. "Ya really don't know where they came from?"
Ghoul shook his head, looking almost apologetic. He took his hand back and ran his fingers over the scars.
"Huh." Party didn't get to dwell on it any further as they were hit with a sudden wave of drowsiness, their forehead resting on The Girls shoulder.
The Girl giggled. "Go to sleep."
"Don' think I can get up." Party mumbled.
The Girl stood up and struggled to pull Party to their feet, eventually getting Jet to help her. They climbed into an empty booth and laid down, shutting their eyes. Before they drifted off they noticed Ghoul sitting in the booth opposite them, resting his head in his palms.

Party awoke to a pressure behind their eyes and a pounding in their head. Their back ached from lying on the hard seat. They groaned, rubbing their face with their hands. A shuffling noise they didn’t realise they were hearing stopped and they froze, opening their eyes.
“Just me.” Ghoul said and Party relaxed.
“What’re you doing?” Party asked, wincing as they sat up and their head pounded. It was too dark to see anything.
“Fixing.” Ghoul said simply. The shuffling sound resumed.
“Fixing what?” Party wanted to stand up to go see what he was doing, but the pounding from sitting up hadn’t yet gone away.
“The wall.”
Party furrowed their brow. They didn’t realise the wall needed fixing.
“You shot at me.” Ghoul explained. “Damaged the wall.”
“Oh.” Party’s cheeks flushed. They had forgotten about that. “Sorry about that, by the way.”
“My fault.” Ghoul replied.
Party wasn’t in the mood to argue about whose fault was whose, so instead they asked, “The fuck are you fixing it with, anyway?”
“Plaster Tommy made.”
Party frowned. “You left in the middle of the night, by yourself, cross-faded as hell and didn’t even let anyone know?”
There was a long pause. “Didn’t realise it would be a problem.”
Party sighed, scrubbing their face with their hands. “Of course it's a problem! What if you got injured? Or dusted? If you’re staying here you’re a part of our crew, even if its temporarily, so fuckin’ act like it.” Party felt like they might’ve been a little too harsh, but in their hungover state they couldn’t bring themself to care.
There was a long silence. Party almost gave up and went back to sleep when Ghoul spoke.
“Sorry.” It was so quiet they almost couldn’t hear it. “Won’t do it again.”
Party sighed again, their anger deflating. “Good. Besides, if you got ghosted and lost our car, Jet would march to the Phoenix Witch ‘erself and demand you be brought back just so he could kick yer ass.”
Ghoul chuckled and Party heard some rustling, then Ghoul slipped into the booth opposite them. They could see his silhouette in the moonlight shining through the window.
“Have you even slept?” Party asked.
Ghoul shook his head, then seemed to think Party couldn’t see him and said, “No.”
“Go the fuck to sleep, Ghoul.” Party scolded. “Nothin’ worse than to be raindead and sleep deprived. There's still a few hours ‘til dawn.”
Ghoul looked down at the table and fiddled with his fingers. “Nah. I got shit to do.”
Party raised a brow. “What shit?”
Ghoul didn’t reply.
Party frowned, then it dawned on him. “You get nightmares?” Nightmares were pretty common in The Zones. They’d been woken up more than once by killjoys screaming in their sleep.
Ghoul let out a shaky breath and nodded.
“Ya still need to sleep.” Party said gently. “A tired killjoy is a liability.”
Ghoul stayed silent, not lifting his eyes from the table.
Party tried to think past the cotton in their head. “You could sleep in our room for the night?”
Ghoul was silent for a few moments, pondering. Party almost expected him to not reply.
“Okay.”
Party grinned and stood up, pausing to let the resulting dizziness pass. “I’ll wake Kobra up and you can have his mattress.”
Party woke Kobra by prodding him hard in the side, earning them a punch to the ribs. After a small scuffle, Kobra grumpily moved to the shared king-sized mattress. Ghoul laid down and pulled a blanket over himself. He was asleep before Party could lie down. Party smirked. They loved being right.

It was almost dinner time and Party couldn’t find Ghoul anywhere.
They looked in the bathroom, the bedrooms and every other hiding place they could think of, but he was gone. Party couldn’t help but feel let-down. Were they too harsh the other day, when they scolded Ghoul? Maybe he was just on a walk and will be back soon. Or maybe they were terrible hosts and their (possibly permanent) guest hated them.
Deciding there was nothing they could do but wait, they sat in the sand next to the door of The Diner and lit a cigarette, watching the smoke swirl and rise through their sunglasses.
Ghoul did end up coming back not long later - his fist clenched around something small and a grin on his face.
“Whaddya have?” Party asked as Ghoul stopped in front of them, crouching.
“Spider.” Ghoul answered, opening his palm and watching the creature scurry around.
Party’s face scrunched up and they shuffled back, into the wall. “Ew.”
Ghoul looked up at them and frowned. “It is not ‘ew’.”
Party nodded, flicking their cigarette butt into the dirt. “They’re so gross. With their spindly legs and terrifying fuckin’ eyes. Freaks of nature.”
Ghoul rolled his eyes. “You’re so fucking rude to him.”
“He’s a fuckin’ spider!”
“Spiders have feelings too!”
Now it was Party’s turn to roll their eyes. “No they fuckin’ don’t.”
“How do you think they know they’re in danger? Cos they’re scared.” Ghoul answered his own question, looking smug. “That’s a fuckin’ emotion.”
“That’s instinct.” Party huffed. “They don’t have human emotions.”
“And how would you know? You talk ta spiders often?”
That was a good point. “‘Cos they’re bugs?” Party argued weakly.
Ghoul sighed, giving up. “At least hold him while I light a cig.”
Party shook their head, holding their hands close to their chest. “No fucking way.”
“He isn’t gonna hurt you.” A small, amused smile was starting to creep onto Ghoul’s face. “His fangs are too small.”
Party shook their head again. “Nuh uh.”
“Yuh huh.” Ghoul mocked, holding out his hand with the spider. “Pleeease?”
Party squeaked, squirming away and scrambling backwards in the hot sand.
Ghoul rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Am not!” Party protested.
“Then hold the fuckin’ bug for a few seconds while I light a cigarette.”
Party clenched their jaw, meeting Ghoul’s gaze. Ghoul didn’t back down and eventually Party sighed, breaking eye contact and holding out their hand. “Fine.”
Ghoul grinned widely and gently nudged the spider from his hand to Party’s. Party gasped and pulled a face at the feeling of its hairy legs on their skin, making Ghoul chuckle.
“Look at his face.” Ghoul said. “He loves you.”
Party hesitantly raised the spider to eye level. Unfortunately, they were starting to see why Ghoul loved it so much. Its tiny eyes were adorable and it clicked its jaws together, looking almost like it was studying Party. Party eventually became unsettled with the way its big dark eyes seemed to be staring into their soul and lowered the spider, cupping it in their hands.
Ghoul had lit his cigarette already and was taking a drag, watching Party intently with a small smile curling his lips. When he saw Party had looked up he quickly looked away, holding out his hand for the spider.
“I love bugs.” Ghoul said quietly, holding the spider in one hand and cigarette in the other. The spider looked content to just sit in the middle of his palm. “They’re so… innocent. Never done anything wrong in their life. Just tryna get by and make the world a better place in the process.” Ghoul lifted a finger to stroke the spiders back. “Except wasps. They’re fuckin’ assholes.”
Party smiled. “I’ve never seen them that way. I always thought they were ugly little fuckers tryna steal my leftovers and hide in my bed.”
Ghoul blew air out of his nose, almost a laugh but not quite there yet. “You should try being a bit more optimistic. It helps sometimes.”
Party pretended to think it over. “I’ll try.”
Ghoul looked at them and smiled and Party felt something flutter in their chest. Something nice, but something dangerous. They pushed it down, down.
Party cleared their throat. “I was actually looking for you. It’s dinner time.”
“Oh.” Ghoul sounded vaguely disappointed. “So I have to put him down?”
Party nodded. “Don’ think Jet wants another spider inside.”
Ghoul sighed sadly. “Okay.”
When Ghoul finished his cigarette he lowered his hand to the ground, letting the spider crawl off. “Seeya, Phillip.”
Party raised a brow. “Phillip?”
“Yeah. His name is Phillip.”
Party cackled. “That's such an old guy city name.”
Ghoul tried to look annoyed but failed, a smile tugging at his lips. “It's a good name!”
Party couldn’t reply over their giggles.
When they recovered and Ghoul finally separated himself from Phillip they went inside, where the others were already eating.
“Thought we lost ya.” Jet joked.
“He was making friends with spiders.” Party said, grabbing a can of Power Pup and sitting next to him.
Kobra looked up from his food, eyes sparkling. “You like spiders?” He asked quietly. It was always hard for him to talk to new people.
Ghoul grinned. “Love bugs. All kinds.”
Kobra grinned back.
Party and Jet didn’t get many words in for the rest of the meal as Kobra spent the next few minutes info-dumping about his favourite kinds of insects. Ghoul listened intently the entire time, not looking bored or interrupting even once. Party decided they really liked this guy.
“HANDS UP, SAND WORMS.” The Girl yelled suddenly, interrupting Kobra mid-sentence. She pulled her fake gun from her jacket and pointed it at Party.
Party screamed theatrically and leaped over the back of the chair, rolling behind the bench. They peeked over the edge to see that Jet and Kobra were gone but Ghoul was still sitting there, not quite sure what was going on.
“It's alright, dude.” Party yelled, accidentally giving away their location. “Hide before she blasts ya!”
Ghoul frowned, then seemed to get it and followed Party. Not a smart decision as Party just gave away their location, but at least he was joining in.
There was the sound of the gun firing and a triumphant yell. “Got ya, Jet!”
Party gestured for Ghoul to follow them and he did, barely making any noise as he shuffled along. They shuffled around the other side of the bench where The Girl had her back to them, looking under the tables. Jet was sprawled on the floor in the exit of The Diner. Party braced themself, then when The Girl was at a safe distance, they jumped, wrapping their arms around her waist and bringing her to the ground as softly as they could. She screamed, laughing, and her gun fell out of her hand.
Party grabbed the gun and pressed it to her chest. “Any last words?”
“Please, no-” She gasped, but Party pulled the trigger and she stopped struggling, collapsing and closing her eyes and letting her tongue loll dramatically.
Party jumped up, pumping their fist in the air triumphantly. They spun around, holding a hand up for a high-five. Ghoul connected their palms and Party grinned.
Kobra awkwardly half-crawled half-fell out of a cupboard and welcomed the resulting laughter, grinning at his choice of hiding place.
They all sat back at the booth, finishing their dinner and Kobra and Ghoul continued their conversation about bugs. The Girl curled up in Jet’s lap, looking sleepy.
When The Diner fell dark and The Girl fell asleep they all went to bed, feeling grateful for their new member.

“You and Ghoul have gotten a lot closer over the last week.” Jet observed.
Party hummed, watching Kobra and Ghoul as they laid in the sand outside. They weren’t that interested in what they were doing, they were watching them more out of habit than anything. “Usually happens when you get wasted with someone.”
“What's yer opinion on him?” Jet asked.
Party frowned, thinking. “He’s a bit… off. A good guy, but off.”
“Reckon he’s smiley?”
Party shrugged. “Maybe. But an informant would have a better cover story.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know he's an informant?”
Party paused. That was a good point. “Either way, we gotta keep an eye on him.”
Party cut off whatever Jet was going to say next by letting out a shocked laugh when Ghoul threw a handful of sand at Kobra.
Kobra sat up, looking shocked, then scooped up a handful of sand and pelted it at Ghoul. Ghoul grinned wide and leaped to his feet.
Party, expecting the impending sand fight, raced outside to join. As they were wearing booty shorts, they bandaged their wound extra securely so no sand could get in. Perfect for a sand fight.
Kobra had darted behind the car to dodge Ghoul’s attacks and Ghoul was slowly creeping around the car to Kobra’s side, his hands full of sand.
Party grinned and ran at him, tackling him to the ground. Ghoul yelped and managed to flip them over so he was straddling them - Party observed he was freakishly strong - making sure to keep his weight off their wound, rubbing sand in Party’s freshly dyed red hair.
Party shrieked. “I washed my hair yesterday, you fucker!” Shampoo wasn’t very easy to come by in The Zones.
Ghoul cackled, but spluttered and fell back when Party threw sand in his face. “Foul play!”
“You putting sand in my clean hair is fucking foul play!”
Party waited for Ghoul to get all the sand out of his eyes then dashed away, Ghoul following close after. Party ran around the car past where Kobra was hiding - Kobra taking the chance to try to trip Ghoul, but only resulting in him stumbling a few steps - then around to the back of The Diner, to their usual smoking spot. Party couldn’t run very fast so Ghoul had caught up in no time and tackled them in a similar fashion to how they had tackled him earlier, straddling them from behind and pinning their wrists behind their back. Party squirmed, trying to get their face out of the dirt. They rested their cheek on the hot sand, one eye closed against the dust and chest heaving.
“Do you surrender?” Ghoul asked. Party could almost hear the smirk in his voice.
“Fuck off.” Party’s voice was muffled against the sand.
“Sorry, I thought I heard you say ‘yes, Fun Ghoul, you are so much better than me in every way and I surrender, my liege-’”
Party kicked up their feet, connecting with Ghoul’s back. Because of the awkward position, it didn’t have much of an effect, and Ghoul cut himself off and laughed.
“I hate you.” Party mumbled.
“No you don’t, or you would’ve kicked me out.”
“Nah, we just feel bad for you. Wouldn’t survive a day by yourself.”
Ghoul tugged hard on Party’s arms then pushed them down into the sand. Party groaned.
“Terrible idea to taunt the man currently holding you down.” Ghoul grinned.
Party struggled weakly, kicking their legs and thrashing their body as much as they could. It achieved nothing and Ghoul laughed.
”Lookin’ pretty pathetic down there, Poison.” Ghoul teased.
Party gulped and stilled. Party was a bit of a freak and they couldn’t deny that the whole situation - the position, as well as the roughness and Ghoul’s words - were making warmth flutter in their stomach and if they couldn’t get out of this situation fast their body would have an embarrassing reaction they wouldn’t be able to control.
“Geroff me!” Party resumed struggling, only achieving in making Ghoul tug their arms harder.
Party felt Ghoul lean down, pressing their bodies together and they held their breath. Ghoul licked a stripe up Party’s cheek and Party squealed to hide how that made their situation so much worse.
“You freak!” Party kicked their legs again, moving side-to-side, trying to throw Ghoul off them.
Ghoul laughed. “Do you surrender?”
“Yes, yes I surrender!” Party spluttered.
Ghoul instantly released Party, climbing to their feet. Party took a few moments to catch their breath then grumpily took the hand Ghoul extended to help them up. Party ‘accidentally’ bumped into Ghoul, making him stumble. Ghoul side-eyed them but thankfully didn’t shove Party back.
“Thought he dusted you.” Kobra said when they rounded the other side of The Diner. He was sitting on the hood of the car, one leg crossed over the other.
“He did.” Party grumbled.
“Party lost.” Ghoul grinned.
Party ignored him and walked into The Diner. The feeling in their belly hadn’t yet disappeared and it was quite distracting.
Party sat in their previous spot with Jet, who was now reading a book.
Kobra and Ghoul resumed their sand fight, The Girl joining in, but they had to finish early when The Girl got sand in her eyes and started crying.
Ghoul sat down opposite Party, next to Jet, and peered over her shoulder. The Girl sat next to Party, so they used the excuse of making sure there was no dirt left in her eyes to distract themself from the resurfacing thoughts about the man across from them.
“What are you doing?” Ghoul asked Jet, frowning at the page.
“Reading.” Jet replied, not looking up from the book.
“How do you understand what it says?”
Jet looked at Ghoul, frowning. “Can you not understand it?”
Ghoul shook his head.
It wasn’t that uncommon for killjoys to not know how to read, especially if they were sand pups.
Party and Kobra grew up in Battery City so they learned how to read at a young age. When they escaped when Party was fifteen and Kobra was eleven, they ran into Jet’s family and taught her how to read, as they both had a love of books and wanted to share that with their friend. When they left to start their own crew two years ago and picked up The Girl along the way, they taught her to read as well.
Party wasn’t quite sure how old they were now, as no one really kept track of that in The Zones.
“I could teach you.” Party suggested, trying to hide their excitement.
“Why do I need to do that?” Ghoul asked.
“Because it’s fun.” Party replied. “You can enter a new universe and make friends while sitting on your bed. It’s an amazing escape when the world feels too hard.” Party mumbled the next part. “It’s what got me through life in Battery City.”
Ghoul was silent for a moment. “Okay. I wanna learn.”
Party grinned. “Awesome.” They jumped up to get a comic from their room, taking their time in choosing which one.
“This is my favourite comic of all time.” Party gushed as they slid back into the booth opposite Ghoul. “It’s called The Walking Dead. Come sit next to me so you can see.”

Jet ended up retreating to their room with The Girl to play guitar and Kobra was on the other side of The Diner, listening to the radio.
Ghoul was sitting close enough to Party that they could feel his body heat through the thin cotton of their shirts, but they weren’t touching, less than an inch of space between them. They had been sitting like this for hours but they had only gotten through a few chapters of the comic as, in between teaching Ghoul how to sound out words, they kept going on rants about ‘easter eggs’, their favourite characters and fan theories. They were sure they were annoying Ghoul, but he kept his face perfectly neutral the entire time. His ability for his expression to remain emotionless never failed to infuriate Party.
Party turned to face Ghoul during one of their rants and their voice died in their throat. Ghoul’s expression had shifted, eyes bright and interested and expression soft, lips quirked up in a small, amused smile. The afternoon sun shone through the window, highlighting every feature of his face perfectly. Party’s eyes trailed over his face, his perfectly angled eyebrows and hazel eyes, the curve of his lips, the tiny scar underneath that could have once been a piercing and the long scar on his cheek. Party knew Ghoul was self-conscious about it, but they thought it was attractive. Adds character.
Party snapped themself out of it and laughed nervously, trying to fight off the heat rising to their cheeks. “Sorry, mind blank. What was I saying?”
“You were talking about how you wanted to fuck Shawn.” Ghoul deadpanned.
“Oh, yeah. When he turned into a walker? man-”
“You like zombies?” Ghoul asked, raising a brow.
Party faltered at the sudden interruption. “Yeah. zombies are hot as fuck, man.”
“Huh.”
“What?” Party asked.
“Nothing. You're just weird. Is it my turn now?”
Party ignored the jab and nodded, handing him the book. Ghoul put his finger under the word he was reading, like Party had taught him. He was on the wrong speech bubble so Party nudged his finger to the one beside it. Ghoul’s cheeks flushed.
Ghoul managed to read “I am,” before needing Party’s help. To his credit, there were a lot of big words in the book. They hadn’t managed to find childrens books yet, but Party always kept an ear on the radio whenever Dr D was talking about Tommy’s deals or promoting another killjoy. Party was shocked at the lack of children's authors in The Zones.
Eventually, Party noticed that Ghoul’s attention was shifting and they decided that would be it for the day. The day had gone by a lot faster than they had realised, so they did the nightly routine of dinner, a game and bed.

Party had only been asleep for an hour or so before a blood-curdling scream woke them.
They were on their feet with their ray gun in hand before they were even sure if they were awake, bursting out of the door and into Ghouls room.
They knelt beside Ghouls bed, watching as his face contorted horribly and his body writhed. There was a light coming from somewhere but Party didn’t have time to wonder where from - there’s no electricity in The Zones - before they were met with a fist to the face. They fell back, Ghoul pinning them to the floor with his hands around their neck, like a replay of their first meeting.
The rest of their crew was standing in the doorway and Party stopped Kobra and Jet’s advance with a wave of their hand. They kept their hands at their sides and their legs on the floor, ignoring the instincts to fight Ghoul off.
“Stop!” Party wheezed. “It’s just me! It’s Party!”
Ghoul didn’t seem to hear them, his expression terrified and eyes unfocused. Almost unrecognisable.
Party started to gasp for air and grabbed at Ghoul’s wrists. “Ghoul! Fun Ghoul, stop! You’re safe.”
WIthout warning, Ghoul leaped off Party, grabbing the gun Party had dropped. Jet yanked The Girl out of the way just in time for Ghoul to barrel through the door.
Party coughed and wheezed, trying to haul themself to their feet. Their crew helped them, slinging Party’s arms over their shoulders. The Girl clung to their waist, burying her face in their clothes.
“We need to go get him.” Party rasped.
Jet shook her head. “Let him go.” But he sounded regretful.
“What if he gets hurt?” Party protested, trying to struggle away from them, but Jet’s grip was too strong.
“Chasing after him is just gonna scare him more.” Jet said gently. “I’m scared for him too, but you gotta let him go.”
Party deflated, letting Jet and Kobra lower them to Ghouls bed. The Girl sat next to them, curling into their side. Party put their arm around her and used their other hand to rub at their neck, where they knew fresh bruises were going to form, replacing the just-faded bruises from Ghoul’s first attack.
Kobra knelt down and hugged them tightly, Party releasing The Girl to hug him back.
“He’ll be back.” Kobra mumbled into their shoulder. He released them and stood up.
“You coming back to bed?” Jet asked.
Party shook their head. “I’ll stay here and wait for him to get back.”
“I’ll stay here too.” The Girl said, still clinging to Party’s side.
Jet nodded. “Sweet dreams, Party.” She left the room, Kobra following, and closed the door.
Party closed their eyes, fighting back tears. The Girl hugged them tighter. “Are you okay?” She whispered.
“Yeah,” Party lied. “Just a little scared.”
“He’ll come back.” The Girl said. She sounded so confident. “He just needs time-out.”
Party nodded, wiping their eyes. “You’re right.” They hugged The Girl to their chest.
Then something caught their eye.
They gently peeled The Girl away from them, standing up to study the small mass of wires in the corner of the room. A soft but surprisingly bright light was emanating from the centre.
“Did he make this?” Party asked, more to themself than anything.
The Girl nodded, standing on her tiptoes to see it clearer. “He’s scared of the dark.”
And now he was outside, in the dark. All alone.
Party felt a sick feeling settle in their stomach but kept the thought to themself. “Oh.” They set the light down and laid down on Ghoul’s bed, opening their arms for The Girl to cuddle up with them.

Ghoul wasn’t back when Party woke up in the morning. Or the next morning. The sickness in Party’s stomach never went away, their worry eating at them from the inside.
“We should get yer a new gun.” Jet said, startling Party out of their thoughts.
“What?” Party looked up from the table as Jet slid into the booth beside them.
“It's dangerous to not have a gun out here.” Jet explained. “Even if Ghoul comes back, yer need one in the meantime.”
Party shook their head. “Ghoul was fine without one. And he’ll be back with mine soon, anyway.”
Jet sighed and put her hand on Party’s shoulder. Party was worried he was going to argue, but he didn’t say anything.
After a long, contemplative silence, Party slammed their palms on the table, standing up. “We’re going to go find him.”
Jet shook her head, not moving out of Party’s way. “We have no idea where he would be.”
“Kobra hasn’t spoken a word since he left, The Girl has been sleeping in his bed and I feel like I’m going to be sick every time I think about him.” Party challenged. “You’ve taken the Trans Am engine apart and put it back together at least five times in the past two days, so I can tell you’re worried too. We have to try. He’s part of our crew, and killjoys never leave their crew behind.” Party heard the irony in their own statement and internally cringed.
Jet stared at Party for a few moments then sighed in defeat, standing up so Party could clamber out of the booth. “You need a gun.”
“I’ll borrow Kobra’s.” Party said, marching to The Motel to get the others. “He has shit aim and is better at hands-on combat, anyway.”

The first place they searched was the warehouse, where they first found Ghoul.
Party felt a strong wave of deja vu as Jet pulled open the rusty door, hinges squeaking loudly. They stepped inside, sweeping the interior with Kobra’s gun the same way they did all those days ago.
“Ghoul?” Party called. “Are you in here?”
They were met with silence.
Party waved the rest of their crew inside. “Search everywhere. We’re not going home until we find him.”
Party searched everywhere. Under tarps and behind piles of crates, inside boxes and under pallets.
They almost gave up, ready to head to the next spot, when they saw the yellow tip of their ray gun poking out from under a tarp at the very back of the warehouse. They picked up the gun, putting it in their waistband and lifted up the tarp. They were met with a big, wooden crate. They leavered it open with their hands and stepped inside. It was large enough that they could stand upright and their head only just brushed the roof. The inside was lit with the same soft light in Ghoul’s room at The Motel.
There was a body huddled under a blanket in the corner.
“Ghoul?” Party called softly, stepping inside.
Slowly, the blanket slid down to reveal Ghoul’s face. He looked almost… scared?
Party smiled, a feeling of overwhelming relief flooding their system. “Hey, Ghoulie.”
“Why are you here?” Ghoul asked quietly.
“We’re here to take you home.” Party frowned.
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“I hurt you.”
Party shook their head. “It wasn’t your fault. You were scared.”
“But I hurt you.” Ghoul covered his face with his hands. “You’re the first friend I’ve ever had and I hurt you. Twice.”
Party shook their head again, stepping towards Ghoul and crouching, taking his hands away from his face.
Ghoul’s eyes focused on the bruises on Party’s neck and he gasped. “Fucking hell. I’m so sorry, Party.”
“It was not your fault.” Party said firmly, looking Ghoul in the eyes and holding his wrists tightly so he couldn’t pull away.
Ghoul didn’t look like he believed them, but he nodded, breathing “okay”. Party released his wrists and he rested his head on his knees.
Party sat back, looking around. “Is this all your stuff?”
Ghoul nodded, not lifting his head. “I left it all here ‘cos I knew I’d be coming back.”
Party tried not to take it personally. “Well, pack it all up because you won’t need to come back here again.”
Ghoul looked up at Party, shocked. “What?”
Party sighed, starting to feel frustrated at Ghoul’s insistence to feel like he wasn’t wanted. “You’re a part of our crew, Fun Ghoul. You’re staying with us if you like it or not.”
Ghoul smiled wide and embraced Party in a hug. It was awkward and uncomfortable and stiff and Ghoul was holding on too tight, but Party quickly returned it, although they were surprised at Ghoul’s first show of affection. Eventually Ghoul relaxed and they stayed like that for a long time.
Ghoul finally pulled away, wiping his eyes. Party noticed the shoulder of their shirt was damp.
“Thank you.” Ghoul whispered.
Party smiled, standing up. “Let's get all this junk packed up.”
Ghoul kicked at Party’s ankle and they jumped back, laughing, then hit their head on the roof and it was Ghouls turn to laugh.
Party helped Ghoul to his feet and they started packing everything into Ghoul’s satchel. As he didn’t own much, it all fit inside easily. There was only a small hand-held radio, a few blankets, a few changes of clothes, a bunch of small contraptions Party didn’t know the purpose of and a collection of rocks, leaves and bug exoskeletons.
“I got everything from Tommy.” Ghoul explained. “‘Cept the radio. That was already here. That’s how I learned about him.” Ghoul paused. “I didn’t get the rocks and stuff from him either, of course.”
Party didn’t know how Ghoul got the money to get things from Tommy and they didn’t really want to know the answer. Instead they smiled, stepping outside. Ghoul turned to face the now empty crate, exhaling shakily and gripping tightly to the strap of his satchel. Party gave him a moment. They knew from experience how hard it could be to leave your home.
Ghoul turned to them and smiled weakly. ”Let's go.”
Party grinned and pat him on the shoulder, lifting the tarp for Ghoul to step out of. “The others have missed you.”
Ghoul frowned. “Why?”
“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Party rolled their eyes. “We like you.”
Ghoul blushed. “Oh.”
A yell of “Ghoul!” was the only warning they got before The Girl slammed into Ghoul, sending him stumbling back a few steps.
He wrapped his arms around The Girl, hugging her back tightly.
“I missed you so much.” She sniffled.
Party smiled at them, happiness swelling in their chest.
“Come on,” Party said after a minute had passed and The Girl still hadn’t released Ghoul. “We gotta go.”
The Girl let go just long enough to jump onto Ghoul’s shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Ghoul leaned down and ran, weaving through the piles of boxes and making The Girl laugh.
When Party rounded the corner, The Girl was back on the ground, holding Ghoul’s hand and Jet was giving him a side-hug. When Jet released him, Kobra gave him a fist-bump and a wide smile. Ghoul looked almost stunned at the amount of affection directed at him.
Party took a few moments to watch their family interact. It made happiness bubble in their chest and spread through their limbs, turning their blood golden.
Party realised everyone was waiting on them and stepped forward, putting their hand on Ghoul's shoulder and smiling softly. “C’mon, let's go home.”

The whole ride to The Diner Ghoul had a wide, goofy grin on his face that he couldn’t seem to wipe off no matter how hard he tried. It felt like a pile of bricks had been lifted off Party’s shoulders, letting them breathe for the first time in days.
Suddenly, Jet, who had been listening to the radio, gasped, whipping her head around to face Party. Party ripped their eyes off Ghoul, pretending they weren’t staring.
“Mad Gear and Missile Kid show in a week!” Jet exclaimed. His excitement was contagious and Party grinned. “It’s free and in Zone Four. Wanna go?”
“Fuck yeah!” Party whooped. They turned to face the others in the back seat. “How d’ya feel about live music, Ghoulie?”
Ghoul shrugged. “Never been.”
“Well, yer about ta know.” Party grinned. “Get ready for the best night of yer life.”
Party turned to Kobra, who was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and biting his lip, knee bouncing.
“Don’ worry, Kobes.” Party soothed. “Mad Gear has accommodations for sparkies, ‘member? Ya can bring yer headphones, too.”
Kobra let out a breath and his fingers stopped fidgeting with his shirt, gripping it tightly between his fingertips instead. He gave Party a weak smile and nodded. Party smiled back softly.
When Party glanced back at Ghoul he was already looking at them, eyes shining.

Ghoul had another nightmare that night.
This time, when Party rushed into his room and dropped to their knees next to his bed, there was no fist to their face or hands around their throat. Instead, they were met with wide, terrified eyes and a hand gripping to their wrist tightly.
“Party." Ghoul breathed.
“I’m here, Ghoulie.” Party said softly. “It’s okay.”
“Fuck.” Ghoul squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily.
“It’s okay.” Party repeated.
“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to hurt them.” Ghoul whimpered. “I didn’t.”
Party frowned but didn’t press. “It's okay. I know you didn’t.” They, in fact, didn't know, but didn't know how else to comfort him.
“So much fucking blood.” Ghoul curled in on himself, not releasing Party’s wrist. Like it was a tether to real life, reminding him where he was.
Party felt that same uneasy feeling deep in their gut, like something wasn’t right. But they ignored it in favour of comforting their friend.
Ghoul continued mumbling incoherently and Party sat there patiently, waiting for Ghoul’s expression to clear and his breathing to return to normal.
When it did, Ghoul released Party’s wrist, closing his eyes and uncurling, leaning back into the mattress. “Sorry.” He whispered.
“Stop saying that.” Party frowned. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Ghoul shook his head but thankfully didn’t argue. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Ghoulie.” Party smiled softly.
They stayed like that for a few moments, waiting for Ghoul to fully come down from the aftereffects, watching him practise the breathing exercises Party taught him.
“Do you want me to go now?” Party asked softly.
Ghoul opened his eyes and startled a little bit, like he forgot Party was there. He shook his head. “Stay. Please.” His eyes were wide and desperate.
“Like… all night?” Party asked.
Ghoul nodded.
Party smiled. “Okay. It’ll be like a slumber party.”
Ghoul smiled back and slid back against the wall to make room for Party. Party was mildly surprised, they had thought Ghoul would feel too boxed-in like that. They slid under the blankets anyway. Ghoul turned around so his back was facing Party and they did the same.
“Thank you, Pois.” Ghoul mumbled.
Party smiled. “No problem, Ghoulie.”
Party drifted off with a smile on their face.

When Party woke up, Ghoul wasn’t in bed.
Their first reaction was to panic. What if Ghoul had another nightmare? Or was uncomfortable sleeping with Party? Or decided Party was absolutely terrible comforting people and decided he hated them?
Okay, maybe that was a little far fetched.
They stumbled out of the room, searching the bathroom, the other bedroom and The Diner. Ghoul was nowhere to be found and panic was building in Party’s chest. They can’t have lost him again. Not so soon.
“Ghoul?” Party called.
“Out here!” Came a voice from outside.
Party let out a breath of relief, shutting their eyes for a moment. Then they followed the voice outside, where Ghoul was standing on their car.
“The fuck are you doing?” Party asked as Ghoul jumped down, sending up a cloud of dust.
“Apologising.” Ghoul said, waving dust out of his face.
“What?” Party asked, frowning.
Ghoul grinned. “Watch.” He waved Party over and climbed into the passenger's seat. He pushed a few buttons that hadn’t been there before, then a bazooka Party hadn’t noticed hidden on the roof of the car raised, positioning itself facing the front of the car.
“Holy fuck!” Party exclaimed, stepping back to get a better look at them. “Fuckin’ shiny, dude. Where did you get all this shit?”
Ghoul grinned wide. “Most of it is from my stash of shit, but the gun's from Tommy. The gun moves, too.” He pressed a few more buttons, making the bazooka tilt up and down, then left and right.
“You’re the fucking best.” Party gushed, making Ghoul turn a bright red. “How did you learn to do all of this? And how did you do it so fast?”
Ghoul shrugged. “Dunno. I just knew. And I’ve been up for a while.”
Party quirked a brow, crossing their arms. “How long?”
Ghoul looked down sheepishly, fiddling with his fingers. “Most of the night.”
Party sighed. “Not sleeping isn't gonna make your nightmares better.”
Ghoul nodded. “I know.”
“Try to get more sleep, yeah?”
“Okay.” Ghoul looked up and gave them a reassuring smile.
“Now shove over and show me how to shoot these fuckers.”
Ghoul grinned.

As the others hadn’t woken yet, Ghoul and Party left them a note in The Diner and sped off in the ‘Am to an uninhabited part of desert, where they could test out the guns.
“Slow down, ya fuckin’ crash queen!” Party yelled over the music, holding on tight to the seat.
Ghoul laughed. “You’re so dramatic!”
“I’m not being dramatic, I’m scared for my fucking life!”
Ghoul sped up a little, laughing at Party’s reaction, then slowed down, letting Party rest and stop their heart from beating out of their chest.
They managed to get to their destination alive, Party scrambling out of the car so fast they fell, promising to never let Ghoul drive again, making Ghoul laugh so hard he clutched his stomach in pain.
When they recovered, Ghoul instructed them to walk around to find something to shoot. Evidently this place had been used as a shooting range often as there were remains of scarecrows (the farm ones, not BLi ones) wearing blood-stained Draculoid coats, and Power Pup cans scattered around. They managed to find a few in-tact scarecrows and propped them up a few metres away from the car.
Party and Ghoul climbed back into the car, excitement humming through their bodies.
Ghoul pointed to something on the windshield. “That's the sight,” He explained. “Dunno how accurate it is, but I’m sure it'll be fine. Press these until it's positioned right.”
Party had little difficulty positioning the guns, as they had plenty of experience playing video games from Before.
Ghoul took hold of a handle in the ceiling that Party guessed was connected to a series of pulleys. “Ready?”
Party nodded.
“Witch, I hope this works.” Ghoul mumbled under his breath. Party got the impression they weren’t meant to hear it.
“Wait,” Party blurted, anxiety creeping into their voice, stopping Ghoul just as his hand tightened on the handle. “What happens if it doesn’t work?”
“Then the guns break.” Ghoul was quiet a moment, like he was considering if he should continue. “Or we blow up.”
Before Party had time to protest or contemplate their probable death, Ghoul had tugged on the handle and there was a loud bang and a tremor through the car, pieces of scarecrow flying in all different directions and going up in flames.
“Holy fuck!” Party exclaimed, giggling. They turned to Ghoul and he had the same giddy expression, grinning widely. “That was awesome!”
“I know, right?” Ghoul exclaimed, not bothering to be even slightly humble. “I’m so glad we didn’t die.”
Party laughed. “Yeah, I’m never not gonna be pissed that you risked my life just to show me that.”
Ghoul grinned. “It was worth it though.”
Party shook their head. They knew they were grinning like an idiot but they couldn’t bring themself to care. “Best apology ever.”
“I could think of something better.” Ghoul joked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Party took a moment to process the dirty joke then giggled, shoving Ghoul. “Shut the fuck up.”
Ghoul grinned.
They spent a few minutes poking fun at each other until Ghoul yawned and leaned back in his seat.
Party sighed. “Why do I have to keep telling you about the importance of sleep? I’m not your mother.”
Ghoul shrugged again, dismissively. “Wasn’t able to sleep, anyway.”
“Why not?”
Ghoul looked away and Party swore they saw red dusting his cheeks. “Cos of the nightmare, probably.”
Party could tell he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but didn’t push.
“There’s probably soda in the back, if you want some?” Party spoke after a few moments.
Ghoul looked up, smiling. “I haven’t had sugar in so long.”
Party grinned back. “Grab me one too, yeah?”
When Ghoul climbed back into the seat beside Party and handed them the soda, they asked, “How did you know about this place?”
“Come here sometimes to test my bombs.” Ghoul replied nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink.
Party raised a brow. “You make bombs?”
There was an amused twitch to Ghoul’s lips. “Yeah. What did you think all that shit at the warehouse was?”
Party shook their head. “Didn’t really think about it, to be honest.”
“I sell them to other crews. That’s how I could afford the shit from Tommy.” Ghoul leaned his head back against the seat and Party tried not to watch the movement of his throat as he swallowed.
“That’s fuckin’ shiny.” Party grinned. “You’re more useful than I thought.”
Ghoul huffed a laugh. “Just drink yer soda, Poison.”
They stayed like that for a while, sipping warm soda and listening to the radio, occasionally climbing onto the roof to load another rocket into the bazooka, cheering as it blew up another scarecrow.
“Wanna see something else I made?” Ghoul asked, after a while of the only sounds being the music on the radio.
Party grinned. “Hell yeah.”
Ghoul, without warning, slipped out of his shirt and Party had to use every last speck of their willpower to keep their eyes on his face.
Ghoul started fiddling with his shoulder then his arm just… popped clean off.
It was still connected by wires and other fiddly things Party couldn't name, but it was still fucking scary.
Party gasped, their hand covering their mouth. “What the fuck!”
Amusement twinkled in Ghoul’s eyes. “Pretty cool, right?”
“I thought that was real!”
Ghoul grinned. “Good. That means it worked.” He popped it back into the manufactured socket. “Wanna see something cool it can do?”
Party didn’t know what could be cooler than an entire fake arm that you made yourself, but nodded enthusiastically anyway. Maybe it would have guns. Or lasers. Or grenades.
Ghoul tapped his forearm in a series of different patterns, then a hatch opened.
“What the fuck!” Party repeated, but awestruck this time.
Ghoul grinned even wider. “I know, right? This is where I stored the cordial the other day. The only thing you didn’t grab from my warehouse.”
Party laughed. “No way.”
“Yes way.”
“Do you have anything in there right now?” Party asked, maybe a bit too eagerly.
“Nah, but I could stash a soda or two in there for us so the others don’t drink it all?” Ghoul suggested, mischievously.
Party grinned. “Fuck yeah.”
When the sun positioned itself in the middle of the sky and the heat became terrible and unrelenting (“We need to get back in time for the crew meeting, anyway”), they threw their empty soda cans in the dirt and turned up the music even louder, singing to the songs Ghoul had only just learned the lyrics to. Party felt light and carefree, happiness swelling in their chest as their voice mixed with their friends’.
Ghoul made a jab at Party’s parking skills that made them giggle, kicking sand at him when they both got out. Ghoul retaliated and Party squealed, running inside The Diner. Ghoul ran to tackle them but they dodged out of the way, making Ghoul stumble through the door and almost to the floor. Party erupted into a fit of giggles. Ghoul glared at them, but something about the wide grin on his face took all of the malice out of it.
When Party extended a hand to help Ghoul up, they caught a glimpse of Kobra whispering something into Jet’s ear. They caught the start of something that sounded like “Told you they wer…” but didn’t have time to question him as Ghoul used Party’s extended hand to pull them to the ground.
“Oi, ya rats.” Jet called. “Git up, important business to discuss.”
Party and Ghoul scrambled to their feet, Ghoul shoving Party lightly, making them stumble and giggle.
Eventually, they settled in the booth opposite Jet and Kobra, giggles dying down and being replaced with a serious expression as Jet placed her palms on the table.
“Alright,” Jet cleared his throat. “Party, you wanna start?”
Party had always thought Jet was a better leader than them. He was better at emotions, more responsible and knew everyone you would ever need - but as an ego-driven teenager, Party had insisted they would be the best choice. Unfortunately, their ego was still too big to hand over to Jet.
Party sat up straighter as everyone’s attention was directed at them. “First things first, we gotta find someone to look after Girlie while we’re at Mad Gear.”
“Show Pony?” Kobra suggested.
Party shook their head. “When have you ever heard of Pony skipping a show?”
“I’m sure you can convince them.” Kobra said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Party tried to glare at their brother, but their laughter took all the venom out of it. “Shut the fuck up.”
Kobra giggled.
“Who’s Pony?” Ghoul asked.
“Someone Party hooks up with.” Kobra answered.
Party rolled their eyes. “Used to hook up with. They’re a friend of Dr D’s. Y’know the guy on the radio?”
Ghoul nodded. There was something in his eyes Party couldn’t decipher. He blinked it away. “Can’t we just ask Dr D, then?”
After a small discussion - and confirmation from The Girl - they decided on Dr D.
“Anyway, if we’re done discussing my sex life,” Party shot a look at Kobra, who grinned back. “Ya need a ray gun, Ghoul. There’s probably a vending machine around here somewhere, but if not we could ghost some dracs and you could take one of theirs to customise. Then there’ll be symbolism or some shit.”
Ghoul’s jaw had clenched, his head already shaking ‘no’ before Party had finished speaking. “Don’t like ray guns.”
Party frowned. “You need to defend yourself. It’s a wonder you’re not dead already.”
“And you’ve taken Party’s gun before.” Kobra added.
“I’ll be fine without one.” Ghoul protested, ignoring Kobra. There was something behind his eyes, something wild, scared and desperate, that made Party stop pushing.
Party sighed. “You need something.”
“I could have… a knife or a dagger or something.” Ghoul suggested. “Other weapons besides guns exist.”
Party frowned, considering. “It wouldn’t be ideal, but I guess it could work.” Then they grinned. “Now for the fun part. You get to design your logo.”

Two days later, Ghoul still had zero ideas for a design.
They were discussing it in the back seat of the Trans Am as Jet drove. Ghoul’s argument was everyone else’s made perfect sense - Party Poison’s was a pill, Jet Star’s was a star and Kobra Kid’s was a snake. There wasn’t really a simple design he could think of for Fun Ghoul. Not one that felt right.
“Just do a ghost or something.” Party suggested, for what felt like the fifth time.
Ghoul shook his head, looking increasingly frustrated and clutching the hilt of his new dagger tightly in his fists. “It’s not right.”
Before Party could formulate a reply, Jet spoke. “Cemetery drive comin’ up.”
The car fell silent and Jet switched off the radio.
As they reached the cemetery drive, Party felt the familiar pang in their chest. The pain of people with the same beliefs as them dying for their cause. Of fighting even when they knew it could cost them everything.
The ‘drive looked a few years old at least, the way the sun had bleached the fabric of the jackets and peeled the paint off the guns. Luckily, someone had already gone through and brought their masks to a mailbox.
Ghoul couldn’t stop fidgeting. He looked flighty and unsettled, fear crawling its way out his throat in the form of a choked-off whine.
Then, a desperate, terrified cry tore from his throat and he was throwing open the door of the car, stumbling into the sand and running.
Jet slammed the brakes and Party broke the unspoken rule of silence by calling, “Ghoul!”
Ghoul didn’t stop.
Party took off after him, stopping only when Ghoul fell to his knees and dug a piece of fabric out of the sand, holding it to his chest and curling over it protectively. He was shaking.
Party approached him slowly, hearing the other’s footsteps behind them. “Ghoul, what's that?” They asked cautiously.
Ghoul couldn’t seem to get the words out. He was babbling incoherently, heaving gasps and sobs only increasing his trouble. This was almost the most distress Party had ever seen him in and it sent a pang of worry down to their stomach, settling there like a stone.
Party eased to their knees beside him, speaking gently. “Slow down, Ghoulie. What’s the matter?”
Ghoul’s wild and desperate eye’s bore into Party’s. “I don’t- don’t know.”
Party frowned. “What do you mean?”
Frustration seeped into his expression. “I don’t know-” His voice broke.
Party - first asking for permission, of course - wrapped Ghoul in a tight, slightly awkward hug. Ghoul trembled against them, arms still holding tightly onto the sun-bleached green fabric like it was a lifeline. Party cradled his head against their chest, mumbling words of comfort that they weren’t even sure Ghoul could hear in the state he was in.
Party heard Jet mutter something then three pairs of footsteps were walking away, giving them space.
Party never ceased to be confused by their friend. His random breakdowns with little explanation and how he seemed to have such little memory of his past - it was more than suspicious. But Ghoul had never shown that he meant to harm them, so he couldn’t be that bad, right?
Ghoul didn’t speak when they climbed back into the car, or on the way to where they were meeting the crew they were selling a bomb to. He kept the fabric - that Party had worked out is a vest or jacket of some sort - held tightly to his chest. When they got back to The Diner, he immediately retreated to his room, still not uttering a word to anyone. Party itched to follow him, to hold him and ask him what was wrong and how Party could fix it, but they knew it was better to give him space. He would tell them when he was ready.

Party opened Ghoul’s door slowly so the hinges didn’t squeak. Ghoul was curled up under his blankets, presumably still wrapped around the jacket. “Ghoul?” They whispered.
It was silent for a moment, and Party assumed he was asleep already, but then he shuffled back against the wall. An invitation. Despite their worry, Party smiled softly at the gesture.
Party slipped under the blankets, facing Ghoul. “Are you ready to talk about it?” They asked gently. Not pressuring. An invitation to talk if he wanted too.
Ghoul shook his head, fingers clenching in the fabric of the jacket.
“That’s okay.” Party whispered. “Goodnight, Ghoul.”
Just before Party drifted off, they swore they felt something soft press into their hair.

Witch forbid Party gets one good night's sleep in this place.
They were awoken by a familiar scream, then a body wrapping around theirs from behind. Immediately, panic flared red-hot through their body, not aware of what was happening in their half-asleep state. They quickly relaxed when they felt Ghoul’s familiar, panicked breath on their neck and wrapped their arms around where Ghoul’s were anchored around their chest, holding them tight.
“Ghoulie.” Party said gently. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“It’s mine.” Ghoul blurted.
“What?”
“The vest. It’s mine. It’s my fucking-” His voice broke and he breathed in shakily. “My crew is dead. That’s why I’m all alone. My family is dead.”
“Oh, Ghoulie.” Party said sympathetically, their voice trembling. “I’m so sorry.”
Ghoul didn’t reply. Or give any indication that he had heard them.
There was a moment of silence, then Ghoul spoke,
“Do you know what it feels like to have your soul reenter your body?”
“What?” Party wanted to turn around, to look their friend in the face while they asked him what the fuck do you mean, but Ghoul had them in a tight hold.
“It hurts,” Ghoul’s voice cracked. His breath was still coming in those short, panicked gasps and his grip on Party hadn’t relaxed even a fraction. “It fucking hurts. It- it feels like there’s fucking lava in your insides and leaking out your mouth and I wanted to fucking die and there was blood that wasn’t mine and I was so confused Party I didn’t know what the fuck was going on-” He was barely making any sense, the words coming out too fast and jumbled for Party to put together in their mind.
“Ghoul.” Party said firmly. “Ghoul, stop.”
Slowly, his rambling trailed off into silence.
Party took a moment to think over Ghoul’s words. What the fuck does he-
Oh.
Party’s blood ran cold, their heart seeming to stop in their chest. It couldn’t be true, that was impossible, but there was no other explanation. Nothing else that made sense about the blood and the memories and the soul. “Ghoul,” Their voice was trembling. “Were you a drac?”
Ghoul’s silence was all the confirmation they needed.

Party didn’t sleep in Ghoul’s bed the next night.
It was strange, not feeling Ghoul’s breath hot on their neck or his hands tangled in the fabric of their shirt when he thought they were asleep. It was bittersweet, how fast this man had fit into their life. How he mixed so well that it felt like he had been there forever.
Of course. That should’ve been Party’s first warning.
Or maybe second. Or third.
Fuck, maybe even their fourth.
They had been way too fucking reckless and unobservant and now there’s probably a Better fucking Living spy in their crew. Mingling with their family.
So why hadn’t Party kicked him out?
Party couldn’t bring themself to kick Ghoul out and it made them so fucking mad. They were putting their family in danger, yet the thought of Ghoul out there by himself again made them feel sick to their stomach.
They should avoid him. Slowly push him away until he leaves himself. Then they wouldn’t have to go through the pain of kicking him to the curb like an abandoned kitten.

So, of course, the universe had to land them looking after The Diner with only Ghoul as company.
Jet, Kobra and The Girl had gone to get more information about the Mad Gear show, leaving before Party had woken up. They had been gone for hours, far too much time for what they were doing. Party was starting to think it was deliberate. It had been two days since Party had started ignoring Ghoul, and their friends had cast them so many worried looks they wanted to punch them in the face just so they wouldn’t look at them like that again.
Party knew Ghoul was standing in the doorway. They could feel his presence and they fucking hated how they were drawn to it. They hated that they missed him. That every time they saw him, looking sad and dishevelled and lost, still holding that damned vest, that their heart broke a little bit more and the yearning in their chest, to touch him and hold him and tell them they’re sorry, became so much stronger.
Party’s gun was definitely clean by now, but they ran the cloth over and over the surface, tracing the stripes with their fingers until the patterns were burned behind their eyelids, all so they didn’t have to look at Ghoul.
“Party.”
Party’s fingers stilled only for a moment, then continued their path on the gun, ignoring him.
“Party.” The voice was stronger, louder. Determined.
They placed the gun on the floor next to the mattress, keeping their eyes trained on their hands in their lap. Ghoul took a step forwards, into the room.
“What did I do wrong?” Ghoul’s voice was steady. Practised.
Party didn’t know what to say to that. Ghoul hadn’t done anything wrong. Nothing that Party could put into words.
“Party.” There was a hint of desperation to Ghoul’s voice now. “Stop ignoring me. Please.”
The sadness and confusion and anger and absolute brokenness in his voice made Party want to grovel at his feet and beg for his forgiveness just so they wouldn’t have to hear it again.
“You-” Party took a deep breath, squeezing their eyes shut, They still hadn’t looked at him once. “You were a drac.”
“I was.” Ghoul’s voice was almost pleading. “I’m a killjoy now. I escaped and you guys are my family. I would never do anything to hurt you.” The unspoken on purpose hung in the air between them.
“But how do I know that?” Party could feel the familiar anger start to swell in their chest and lick up their neck like flames. “How do I know they aren’t using you as a spy, that they returned your soul on purpose, so they could get intel on the Fabulous fucking Four?”
They heard Ghoul’s sharp intake of breath and instantly wanted to take it back.
“Even if you don’t know you’re a spy,” Party continued, quieter now. “I can’t trust you.”
The silence stretched on painfully, making Party shift uncomfortably and anxiety sit heavy in their stomach.
For the first time since Ghoul had stepped into their room, Party looked up.
Ghoul’s fists were clenched tightly, tears in his eyes that were shining with anger and regret. Party was dimly aware that he was wearing that vest. It suited him. “Then why haven’t you kicked me out?”
The resulting silence hung heavy in the air, pressing down on Party’s lungs like smog.
Their jaw clenched as Ghoul took a step closer, then another, until he was standing directly in front of Party. Somewhere, in the back of their mind, somewhere behind their anger and sadness and regret, they registered that they liked looking at him from this angle. Party rose to their feet anyway, feeling less vulnerable when they towered over Ghoul’s short stature. “If you can’t trust me, why haven’t you kicked me out?”
Anger and confusion spread red-hot through Party’s body, mixing to create a cocktail of bad. Their fists clenched at their sides, mirroring Ghoul. “I don’t know.” Their hands rubbed at their face and eyes in frustration, tangling their hands in their hair and pulling to try to retain one ounce of sanity. “You’re so fucking frustrating Ghoul. You- You don’t understand-” They let out a frustrated noise. “Ghoul, I- I don’t want you to leave, but I-” They cut themself off with another frustrated sigh. They had no idea how to word what they were trying to say.
Ghoul gently removed their hands from their hair, ducking his head to look them in the eyes. “Party.” He breathed. His anger seemed to have liquified.
If someone asked Party later, they would have no idea who moved first.
But, they do know it was them who pushed Ghoul against the wall, pressing their bodies together and taking a handful of his hair to tilt his head up and deepen the kiss.
Ghoul’s tongue probed at the entrance of their lips and they opened their mouth, letting their tongues slide together. A desperate noise escaped Party’s throat and Ghoul swallowed it greedily, fisting his hands in the back of Party’s shirt to pull them closer. Their hips pressed together and Ghoul made a needy, keening noise then Party was pushing themself away, away, until they tripped over the mattress and landed on their ass.
Party pressed the heels of their palms into their eyes until they saw stars, trying to calm their pounding heart and the pressure in their jeans. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Just- just get out. Please.”
Party tried to get the image out of their mind - of Ghoul’s blown-wide pupils, red lips and mussed hair, the needy, turned on noise he made. Otherwise they would get right back up and fall to their knees in front of him just to get him to make it again and again until it was the only noise Party knew.
The room was silent for a few uncomfortable moments. Then footsteps crossed the room, slamming the door behind them.
“I’m sorry.” Party choked out. But of course Ghoul didn’t hear them.

The worried looks from their friends didn’t cease. Party thought everyone would’ve been too distracted by the excitement of the quickly approaching concert, but apparently not. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they had only seen Ghoul twice in the last two days.
Party was sure their eyes would bore holes into Ghoul’s bedroom door if they stood there any longer. Of course they had been tasked with reminding Ghoul of when they were leaving - the others giving excuses of ‘too busy’. Party had no idea what they were busy with, and gave up an embarrassingly short fight. They didn’t want to admit that they liked the excuse to speak to Ghoul.
Party couldn’t seem to get their hand to work as they stared at the wood. They took a deep breath, closing their eyes. Telling themself they could do this.
Then, they opened the door without knocking, throwing the handful of clothes they had painstakingly picked from their own pile of things at where Ghoul was curled up in bed.
He let out a surprised noise, trying to pull the clothes from his face. If their situation was any different, Party would’ve thought it was cute.
“Get up,” Party tried to get their voice to sound normal. And probably failed. “Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour.”
Ghoul was staring at the fabric in his hands, like he had never seen clothes before. He looked up and Party had to suppress a shiver when they made eye contact. “These yours?”
“Yep.” Party tried to sound as nonchalant as possible and, yet again, probably failed. “If you ruin them I’ll hand you over to Better Living myself.”
Party thought maybe the threat wasn’t the right one to use because of recent events, but their worries dissolved when Ghoul’s lips quirked up.
“I won't.” He promised.
“Good.” When Party stepped out and closed the door, they had to take a few moments to calm the red in their cheeks.

“Party, hurry the fuck up!” Jet called through the bathroom door.
Party leaned away from where they were doing their makeup in the mirror to call back, “You can’t rush beauty, Star.”
“Yer pretty enough as it is. Let's go!”
“Aww, shucks,” Party joked. “You really think so?”
Party overheard some grumbling and threats of violence, but otherwise Jet had nothing to retort. Party chuckled, resuming their makeup.
When they were done, they stepped back to admire their work in the mirror. They were wearing the tiniest amount of blush, red eyeshadow and pink lipgloss. The tiny wings on the eyeliner had been what had taken so long. They were convinced they would never master the art of eyeliner. The rest of their outfit was simple - a tank top emblazoned with “KEEP SMILING”, black jeans so tight they felt like another layer of skin and a sequined, cropped cardigan that they were sure would get lost within the first five minutes.
An insistent knock came from the door and Party rolled their eyes, flinging it open dramatically and striking a pose.
Jet looked them up and down, most likely criticising their outfit in her mind. “Remind me to make you use the bathroom last, next time.”
Party scoffed. “I’m your leader, you can’t ‘make’ me do anything!”
Jet rolled his eyes, pushing past Party into the bathroom.

Jet and Kobra had been arguing about whether or not they should put music on for the past ten minutes.
Kobra thought listening to the music of the band you’re on your way to see completed the concert experience - while Jet was convinced it was borderline illegal in concert law.
“We’re fucking killjoys, since when have we cared about the fuckin’ law?” Kobra protested, gripping his noise-cancelling headphones tightly as he waved his hands in the air.
“Concert law is different! That’s the only law we’re allowed to obey!”
Before Kobra could continue the argument, Party cut in, “Just turn on the fuckin’ radio before I dust ya both. There’re songs other than Mad Gear.”
Jet only gave the tiniest bit of protest before switching on the radio, playing a song Party (shockingly) hadn’t heard before.
When Party exhaled in relief at the ceased arguing and leaned back in their seat, their eyes unconsciously trailed to the rearview mirror that captured Ghoul’s face right in the centre.
Party shifted so they could view more of Ghoul. Specifically what he was wearing.
Maybe it was a mistake to give Ghoul their clothes. He was wearing a yellow tank top that showed off his toned biceps, black skinny jeans (Party tried to convince themself they hadn’t been staring at how his ass looked in them) and his vest.
In conclusion, Party didn’t know if they were going to be able to keep their hands off him with the copious amount of alcohol they were planning to introduce to their system tonight.

Party had missed this.
The press of bodies, the stink of sweat and drugs and the absolute ear-splitting screaming of probably a hundred killjoys all singing along to the lyrics of songs that had given them motivation and inspiration for their whole lives - it was electric with excitement and energy. Party could feel it in the drum beats echoing in their chest, in their aching ears, in the edm or ‘club’ beats Mad Gear liked to add to his music when he played live and the bodies grinding against their back. It was fucking amazing.
It could’ve also been the battery acid they picked up at some point mixing with the six beers they had downed.
Party had lost Kobra and Jet somewhere during the show. They thought they fuzzily remembered Kobra signing that he was going to the ‘quiet area’ as he had gotten overwhelmed and Jet had made his way to the front, where he could see Mad Gear up close.
Party had lost their sparkly cardigan and at some point someone had stuck a piece of tape over the word “SMILING” on their shirt, replacing it with “SUCKING”. They had no idea who did it, but whoever did was fuckin' hilarious, in their opinion.
Ghoul seemed to be as drunk as Party and he was a fucking animal on the dance floor. Party was sure there was going to be at least one Ghoul-induced injury tonight.
Party watched as he danced, his hips swaying and arms moving in the air above him, eyes closed.
Before Party knew what they were doing, they were sliding in behind Ghoul, pressing their bodies together as they danced. Ghoul looked over his shoulder to see who was basically grinding against him and was (understandably) surprised when he saw it was Party. Party couldn’t stop the grin spreading across their face.
Ghoul relaxed against Party, letting their bodies move together, to the music. Every touch sent jolts of electricity through their skin and added to the fuzz in their brain.
Someone bumped into Party and they gripped tightly onto Ghouls waist to stop themself from toppling over. They pretended they didn’t notice the way Ghoul leaned into it.
If Party was any more sober, they were sure that insistent, annoying voice in the back of their head would be telling them to stop and this is a terrible idea, but they were drunk and hyped and just wanted to touch.
As Party leaned closer and their lips brushed the shell of Ghoul’s ear, they felt the familiar jolt of excitement as their favourite song on earth started playing.
“They want to grip the cross
Make cavities
Adjust because it purely is a crime
Full-on freak the cops, that casuality
And break the walls of cryogenic slime
She said come on, come on, kiss my battery…”
Ghoul’s head turned and tilted upwards and Party’s heart pounded in their ears, matching the drumbeats as their lips brushed against the corner of Ghoul’s. Party desperately tried to rub their two remaining braincells together so they could get their body to move but then they were being tugged away into another solid, warm body.
Pony’s lips met Party’s before they could even process Ghoul was no longer in front of them, then they were kissing back, open-mouthed.
It instantly sent Party back - to rushed, desperate handjobs in storage closets and rutting together in the back of the ‘Am. But it lacked the same spark it used to.
Pony pulled them away by a handful of their hair, grinning. Their pupils were blown wide, evidently having gotten into the battery acid as well. Then they were skating off (Destroya knows how they’re still upright in those death-traps), leaving Party feeling confused and trying desperately to get their brain to catch up to current events.
When Party turned around, Ghoul was gone.

Party was lying on their back, looking up at the stars.
The sand was still warm under their back, a stark contrast to the cool air currently drying their sweat to their skin. There were a few others scattered around in similar positions to Party, slowly being picked up and dragged away by their friends. The ones who were left, usually un-aides or graveheads, were eventually going to be brought back to Mad Gears place for the night so they didn’t freeze to death or get picked off by the vultures.
The battery acid had basically worn off by now and Party was toeing the line into the bad side of drunk.
Someone was poking Party’s cheek.
Party groaned, batting at the hand and rolling the opposite way, onto their side. “Fuck off, Kobra.”
Kobra poked them again.
“The fuck do you want?”
“Home time.” Kobra answered. “Jet and Ghoul?”
“Dunno.” Party mumbled. “They both ran off.”
Party could feel Kobra’s disapproving look.
Kobra was tugging on Party’s arm, trying to get them to their feet.
“I can stay here,” Party slurred. “Feels nice.”
Kobra shook his head, tugging more insistently.
Party sighed and gave in, wrapping their arm around Kobra’s neck. As they made their way to the car, Party was sure all the stumbling wasn’t completely caused by them.
“Wait- no.” Party mumbled. “Gotta find the others.”
Kobra shook his head, pushing Party into the car and shutting the door behind them. Party gave themself a few seconds to regroup before following after Kobra, who was calling Jet’s name. They got halfway to the stage before tripping over their own feet and face-planting. They decided they had no more energy to go any further and laid in the sand, closing their eyes.
Party looked up when a small commotion came from the direction of the stage. Jet stumbled out from behind the stage, his hair flying in all directions and suspicious bruises on her neck. Party’s eyebrows almost flew off their head when Mad Gear stumbled out after him.
“Mads was just, er, jus’ showing me some shit on guitar.” Jet stumbled over her words, cheeks bright red.
Party laughed like it was the funniest thing they’ve ever heard, holding their stomach when it started hurting. “He was definitely showing you something, alright.”
Jet shot Party a glare. “Fuck off, Poison.”
That did nothing to help Party’s laughter.
When Party calmed down and Kobra helped them to their feet, Mad Gear introduced himself to everyone. Kobra was silent and distant the entire time, like he wasn't completely there. Party wasn't too worried as that usually happened after social events.
“The Fabulous Four,” Mad Gear grinned as he enveloped Party’s hand in his own. “It’s an honour.”
“Are you kidding?” Party exclaimed, louder than intended if Kobra’s wince was anything to go by. “You’re our fuckin’ idol, man.”
That only made Mad Gear’s grin widen. “Well, it’s an honour either way.”
“Oh, and it’s the Fabulous Five now.” Party didn’t try to hold back their own grin.
As they chatted with Mad Gear, Party became increasingly more and more aware that Ghoul was still nowhere to be seen.
“Hey, have you seen Ghoul?” Party asked Jet, interrupting whatever Mad Gear was saying. They were sure Jet was too busy to notice if their friend had fallen asleep in a bush or gotten kidnapped by a rival crew or something, but it was worth a try.
Jet unhappily pressed her lips into a thin line at the interruption and shook his head. “Not since I left you guys earlier.”
Party frowned. “Reckon he left with somebody?” The thought sparked jealousy through Party’s chest.
“It’s a possibility.” Jet pressed a finger to his chin in thought. “Check everywhere, just in case.”
So they did just that. They checked behind the stage, behind and inside cars, and everywhere within a hundred metres of the stage, but he was nowhere to be found. Party checked everywhere twice, but even with the help of their friends and Mad Gear, there was zero trace of him. Worry and panic was flooding Party’s veins, sitting heavy in their stomach and gripping their lungs in a vise-like grip.
“I gotta take care of these screwheads.” Mad Gear gestured to the killjoys still strewn over the sand, yanking Party from their thoughts. “I hope you find yer friend.”
Before Party could turn around to continue searching, they saw Mad Gear pull Jet in for a kiss.
“Stop pashing and come help me.” Party demanded, not trying to hide the annoyance and frustration in their tone.
Jet pulled away from Mad Gear and sighed. “We’ve looked everywhere, Party.” He said gently. “He’s probably just found somebody’s bed to warm for the night and will be back in the mornin’.”
Party clenched their fists. “No, he wouldn’t do that. He-” Party cut themself off, sighing, and relaxed their fists in defeat. “Fine. Let's go.”
A look of understanding briefly flitted across Jet’s expression, but Party had no idea what there was to understand. He put his arm around Party’s shoulders and started leading them to the car. She blew a kiss to Mad Gear over her shoulder and Party pulled a face.
As Kobra was the most sober out of all of them, he drove them home. Party was a bit worried as Kobra rarely drove and it was nighttime, but he was careful and they all got home safe. Party refused to walk so Jet picked them up and carried them inside. They were too exhausted to think anything of it when Jet deposited them in Ghoul’s room instead of their own.

“I’m so fucking sick of that fucker disappearing all the time.” Party grumbled.
It was midday and Ghoul still wasn’t back. And Party’s hangover hadn’t gotten any better since they had woken up.
“He’ll be back soon.” Jet repeated for probably the fifth time that morning. It was probably an automatic response by now, judging from the fact that she hadn’t looked up from her book. Party could tell he was getting sick of them complaining. “He’s probably not in much better condition than you.”
Party dropped their head in their hands, scrubbing at their face. “I’m worried.”
“If he’s not back by tomorrow morning we’ll go looking for him.” Jet promised. “But I’m sure he’ll turn up.”
“He better.” Party mumbled against their hands. “If he’s in trouble I’m gonna kill that fucker when we get him back.”
Jet blew air out of her nose, not quite a laugh but getting there.
“He hasn’t even had a chance to look at my shirt.” Party joked, looking down at their tank top that still proudly displayed “KEEP SUCKING”.
This time, Party earned a giggle from Jet.

Party was still the only occupant of Ghoul’s bed that night.

Party had already climbed into the driver's seat of the Trans Am before the others had finished breakfast. Their fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel, anxiety mixing uncomfortably with Power Pup in their stomach.
The second Jet slammed the car door closed behind him, Party stepped on the gas.

The most obvious choice was to go back to where they had lost him in the first place.
The stage was never packed up. It was made out of wooden planks and was where the majority of shows and raves were held. Party didn’t know who built it, but they knew it was old.
Now that it was light, they could search more thoroughly for their friend. They searched in and around the stage and every patch of sand within a one hundred metre radius. But there was zero sign of him.
“Has anyone done anything to piss him off?” Jet asked when they climbed back in the car and continued to their next destination.
No one spoke.
“Party? You were with him last.”
Party wracked their brain to try to remember what happened right before Ghoul left. They were dancing, then Pony- oh. Oh.
But that wouldn’t be the reason Ghoul left, was it?
Fuck.
“Um, yeah. I think so.” Party said quietly. Jet looked at them expectantly, silently asking them to elaborate. When they didn’t, Jet sighed and leaned back in his seat.
“Did Ghoul and Party have a fight?” The Girl asked, leaning forwards and putting her head on Jet’s shoulder.
Jet spoke gently. “Yeah. Couples argue sometimes. But they’re gonna work it out. Right, Party?”
Party’s brain was having a hard time catching up to Jet’s words. “What?”
“I said, you’re gonna work it out, right?”
“Nono, I got that bit- did you just say Ghoul and I are a couple?”
“Yeah, I-” Another look of understanding, the same one Party saw after the show, crossed Jet’s face. “Oh.”
“oh.” Party echoed under their breath.

For the first time, Party hoped they wouldn’t find Ghoul.
If they found Ghoul here, in the warehouse, where they told him he would never have to go back to again, they would feel like a failure. A terrible friend and a terrible leader. Maybe they should hand over to Jet.
Party threw the door open with more force than necessary, not bothering to draw their blaster this time.
“Ghoul?” Party called.
Silence.
Party stalked directly to the crate at the back, tugging off the tarp and pulling the door off.
It was empty, and didn’t look like it had been lived in recently.
Party didn’t try to hold back their breath of relief.

The final place they searched was the shooting range.
A strange mixture of hope and anxiety slushed around in Party’s stomach, making them shift in their seat and drum their fingers against the steering wheel the entire drive. If Ghoul wasn’t here, Party had no idea where else to look.
When they got out of the car, ray gun already in hand, the first thing their attention zeroed in on was the familiar faded green fabric in a heap on the floor, then the dead drac on the ground next to it, then the green hilt of a knife protruding from its heart.
“Nonononono.” Party dropped to their knees beside the body, gathering the vest to their chest. “Fuckfuckfuck.”
There was a small gasp and Party turned and watched blurrily as Jet ushered The Girl back into the car. Then Jet turned and knelt next to Party, enveloping them in one of her famous bear hugs.
“This is all my fault.” Party gasped out, trembling in Jet’s hold. “Better Living has him and it's all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault, Party.” The gentleness in Jet’s voice made Party want to rip their hair out.
“Yes it is.” Party sobbed. “If I wasn’t such a fucking dick to him then he wouldn’t have ran away.”
“You didn’t force him to leave.” Jet protested quietly, but firmly. “You didn’t tell the dracs where he was.”
Jet seemed to take Party’s silence as a win and stopped speaking, holding Party tighter to her chest as they cried. Crippling anger and fear and regret ripped at Party’s heart, feeling like they were going to rip them in two. They gripped the vest tightly in their fists like maybe if they squeezed hard enough they’d be able to feel the warmth of Ghoul’s flesh underneath.
A thought cemented itself in Party’s mind, making them pull away and raise unsteadily to their feet. They steeled their expression, but the tears still steaming down their cheeks gave away their remorse. “I’m going to go get him.”
Jet shook her head. How had Party guessed that was going to be his response? “We need a plan first.”
“The plan is we’re getting our fucking friend back.” Party turned on their heels, giving no room for argument, and stalked to the driver's side of the car. Just before their hand landed on the handle there was a hand on their arm, spinning them around and holding their arms tightly.
“We need a plan.” Jet repeated, firmly.
Party rolled their eyes. “The plan is we march into Better Living, ask nicely for Ghoul back, and if they refuse we blast them to pieces.”
Party managed to struggle out of Jet’s hold and turn around, but then he wrapped his strong arms around them, pinning their arms to their sides, and tugged them away.
“Stop it, fucker!” Party tried their hardest to get away, biting at Jet’s arms and punching her in the stomach with as much force as they could manage in their current position.
Jet didn’t budge, not speaking a word and letting Party fight it out of their system. They kicked and punched and bit but Jet’s hold didn’t give.
Eventually, Party’s body went lax as they gave in, fresh tears trailing down their cheeks.
“I know you’re scared for him.” Jet said gently in their ear, not relaxing her grip. “But if we go in without a plan and we all die, what’s the point?”
Party squeezed their eyes shut, letting out a trembling breath. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”
Jet slowly released them, putting a hand on their shoulder to steady them.
When Party looked at the car and saw The Girl’s face pressed against the glass, tears shining on her cheeks, Party felt regret seep in through their pores and settle heavy in their stomach. They swallowed wetly, opening the door and bringing The Girl in for a hug. She clung to them tightly.
“Why does everyone keep fighting?” The Girl sniffled.
Party tried their hardest to speak past the rock suddenly lodged in their throat. “Because sometimes people have big emotions, really big ones that they can’t control, and they take it out on people they care about.” Party paused to take a deep breath. “But that’s not okay. That's not what- thats not what we’re supposed to do. And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Girlie.”
The Girl gave them a squeeze then pulled away to look them in the face. Party wiped the tears from her cheeks with their thumb. “Okay. I forgive you.”
Party smiled and fresh tears formed in their eyes. They cupped her cheeks and kissed her on the forehead. “You stay here, okay? There’s something I need to do first.”
When Party knelt down in front of the dead drac, Kobra’s warm hand landed on their shoulder and they leaned into the comfort of it, exhaling shakily. Then they wrapped their hand around the hilt of Ghoul’s dagger and tugged until it came out with a wet squelch.
Party gingerly turned the weapon over in their hands, studying the designs on the hilt. It had been painted dark green, with the face of what looked like a cartoon zombie on the end and “HORROR!” emblazoned on both sides. It gave Party deja vu to a previous conversation but they couldn’t grip the memory tight enough to know why.
Hands shaking, Party wiped the blade clean on the dead drac’s coat and stood, picking up the jacket from where they had dropped it in their scuffle with Jet and wrapped the dagger in the fabric. They closed their eyes and focused on their breathing, trying to not break down again.
When they trusted themself to speak, they turned to their crew. “Jet?”
Jet got the hint and moved to the back of the ‘Am, popping the trunk and pulling out a can of gasoline and a pack of matches. Everyone stood back as Jet searched the drac’s pockets, then after finding nothing useful, poured the petrol over the body and lit a match, dropping it onto the body and watching as it went up in flames.
As they watched it burn, Kobra sidled up to Party, pressing their sides together in a way Party knew was supposed to be comforting. Party leaned into him.
When the smell got too much to handle they all piled into the car, The Girl curling up to Party’s side. Party cried silently the entire way to The Diner, soaking Ghoul’s jacket with their tears.

Party turned the dagger around in their hands, staring at it in the dim light of Ghoul’s room. A series of memories flashed in their mind.
“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to hurt them. I didn’t. So much fucking blood.”
“Don’t like guns.”
The tip of their gun poking out from under the tarp, far out of reach of Ghoul.
It made sense, now. Why Ghoul felt uncomfortable with guns. It took him back to when he was forced to take the lives of innocents. In his eyes, guns were too much power. It was too easy to kill.
Party placed the dagger on the ground next to the mattress and curled further into Ghoul’s jacket, inhaling deeply. It smelled like him. Party hated that they could recognize that.
The door squeaked open and for an amazing, terrible moment Party thought that maybe, maybe it was Ghoul and he had escaped and he was back and Party could apologise.
“I miss Ghoul.” Came the tiny, trembling voice.
Party squeezed their eyes shut, willing tears not to form. “I know.”
The Girl sniffled, then climbed into the bed with Party. “Is he coming back?”
“We’re trying our hardest, honey. We’ll get him back soon. I promise.” Party regretted it the moment the last few words passed their lips. That wasn’t a promise they could make.
The Girl cuddled into Party’s chest and they wrapped their arms around her. “I love you, Party.”
“I love you too, Girlie. So much.” Party’s voice was wet and strangled, barely pushing its way out of their throat. They buried their face in her curls and cried, hoping she didn’t notice their wracking, silent sobs.

Party wished they hadn’t woken up. Before their eyes had even opened a weight pressed down on their stomach and chest, crushing their lungs and raising bile in their throat.
The Girl was still in their arms and they held her close, trying to calm their breathing.
“Party?” The Girl mumbled sleepily.
“‘m sorry.” Party mumbled into her hair. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
She didn’t reply, pushing away from Party and yawning. Then she placed her hands on Party’s cheeks and looked them in the eyes, expression serious. “Stop being sad.”
Party’s first instinct was to deny it, but instead they laughed through their tears and only said, “Okay.”
The Girl’s expression relaxed and she smiled. “Are we gonna go find him now?”
Party smiled back, although the reminder sent another stab of pain through their chest. “Yeah. We’ll go find him.”

When they entered The Diner, Kobra was pacing, hands alternating from fluttering near his face to tapping his ears.
Usually, Party would be content to let Kobra do his own thing, but they knew what the start of a meltdown looked like.
“Kobra?” Party called.
Kobra didn’t answer, looking completely focused on his pacing.
Party called his name again, stepping into his line of vision.
Finally, Kobra ceased his pacing, eyes focusing on Party. He was breathing fast and irregular and his hands wouldn't stop fluttering at his sides.
“Why don’t we go to your room, yeah?” Party suggested gently.
Kobra looked at the floor, nodding and closing his eyes.
Without touching him, Party guided him to their shared room. Kobra sat on his mattress and started rocking back and forth, hands still fluttering and eyes darting to everywhere in the room except Party. Party dug a stress ball from the pile of random shit on the floor and handed it to their brother.
“Remember our breathing exercises? Square breathing? Do it with me.” Party started drawing a square in the air with their finger, slowly breathing in and out with each side their finger made.
Slowly, Kobra followed. They continued until Kobra could breathe normally and his rocking and flapping stopped.
Party smiled at him and Kobra sheepishly smiled back.
“Thank you.” Kobra whispered.
Party held back the urge to pull him into a hug. “I’ll give you a minute, then we’re gonna have breakfast and start planning. Sound good?”
Kobra nodded and Party stood, closing the door behind them.
“He okay?” Jet asked when Party stepped back into The Diner.
Party nodded, sitting down across from her and opening the can already in front of them. “Crisis averted.”
Jet gave them a small smile.
When Party was half-way through their breakfast, Kobra emerged and silently sat down in another booth. He had his noise-cancelling headphones on and his hand clenching and unclenching rhythmically around the stress ball.
Kobra, not touching his Power Pup, pulled a pencil from his pocket (“Where the fuck is everyone getting all these pencils??”) and started writing on the table. The map Pony drew what felt like so long ago had faded, leaving Kobra plenty of room to brainstorm.
Party tried to not lean over the seat to see what Kobra was doing, as they knew it would interrupt his train of thought.
Party spent the entire day suffering in silence, jittering with curiosity while thinking up plans with Jet then almost immediately scrapping them.
Just as the sun reached a position in the sky where it shone through the window, blistering their skin, and they felt they were seconds away from vibrating out of their seat with curiosity of what their brother had been doing all day, Kobra stood and tapped Party on the shoulder, interrupting them mid-sentence.
Party looked up, and probably too eagerly, asked, "What've you been doin'?"
Kobra gave them a small smile and beckoned them over to the other table. They watched patiently as Kobra struggled to figure out how to explain without speaking or using sign, eventually deciding on pulling a sheet of paper out of his pocket and unfolding it, carefully `shielding the writing that was already there, flipping it over to write on the back.
As Kobra wrote, Party's fingers drummed impatiently on the table, causing their brother to shoot them a look. They ceased their tapping with a small, sheepish smile, tapping on their thigh instead.