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Chapter Text

Looking for a place to party? An escape for a secret love affair? Introducing the Four Suits Casino, a kingdom of challenges for those daring enough to experience it! Includes special features dedicated to four different rooms you can choose from:

The Club room - it's exactly what it sounds like! A club with a bar, a food table, a dance floor, loud music and everything a party should have! Perfect for visitors who are seeking a fun, casual night out!

The Diamond room - home of exclusive stage performances, weekly auctions and a glass case of prizes you can trade you poker chips for! Winnings can range from rare jewelry, to taking home anything in this room- you'll just have to see for yourself!

The Heart room - you won't find a better place to organize secret meetings than behind the curtains of the most romantic lobby in of all! With comfortable couches and an open closet, you can have it all for just one night!

The Spade room - only the most daring guests are allowed in here! High-quality weaponry and a setup table for high stakes Russian Roulette are kept in here! Not everyone leaves this room alive, but many are richer than when they walked in!

The address to this casino can be found under the silver square below- scratch it off with a penny, and we'd love to see you there!

Chapter Text

Freddie silently watched the wolf monster read over his test results behind a mahogany desk. He couldn’t get much of a read on his face, since it was mostly obscured by circular red lenses, hiding his three eyes. All Freddie could assume based on his humming was that he might at least leave this room generally unscathed.

“Well… you’ve passed your background check, your credit score isn't terrible, and you didn't enter this interview wearing sunglasses, so you’re officially in our consideration.” Tony smiled warmly, closing the manilla folder before sliding it aside with the tip of his claw. “Now all that’s left to do for you is pass one final test. It’s truly the last one, I promise.”

He pressed a button on his message receiver, leaning down to speak directly into it. “Kim, bring in the gun.”

Freddie stayed seated, unable to tell if Tony was joking or not. The door opened behind him, he could hear it lock closed, footsteps approaching until Kim Diamond came into view. She held a small black suitcase with a spade emblazoned on the top.

Kim opened it out of view, letting Tony pull out a shiny pistol. He shook several bullets from it, clattering all over his desk, and Tony opened his drawer to load a golden bullet in the carousel.

Freddie coughed to interrupt, freezing them awkwardly. “What’s the final test, exactly?”

“I'm getting to it!” Tony shut the gun, flipping it in the air and catching it backwards, extending the handle to Kim.

“We're all going to play a little game called Russian Roulette,” Kim said, smiling as she pressed the gun to her temple. “I’m going to pull the trigger. Tony will go after me. If you survive your pull, you are hired without question.”

Freddie shook his head. “I don’t- is she serious? This wasn’t part of the deal, was it?”

Kim pulled the trigger, the click loud enough to silence him. She blew a hair out of her face and rolled her eyes, handing it to Tony. “You didn't shuffle it enough, dear.”

“Yes I did, watch!” Tony pulled the trigger to his head, frowning when nothing happened. “Ugh, fine, Freddie, it’s your turn.”"

“No-”

Tony shuffled the gun, snapped it shut, and tossed it onto Freddie’s lap. Freddie scrambled off the chair, letting the gun hit the floor as he backed into the corner of the room.

“I’m not dying for a job interview!”

“C’mon, Freddie,” Kim cooed. “It’s all just part of the initiation! We’ve all done it.”

“What do you mean you’ve all done it? How many people have died here?”

“No one!” Tony paused. “I think, anyway.”

Kim lifted the gun, holding it out to Freddie. “Trust me, cœur, it won’t kill you.”

“I just met you people!”

“Shoot the gun! Shoot the gun!” Tony chanted.

Kim shoved it in Freddie’s hand and pointed it to his temple. Freddie shook uncontrollably in her grip.

“Count of three,” Kim whispered. “One, two-”

Freddie pulled the trigger, reeling back as a mini flag shot out and poked his head. He looked down at the toy, trying to block out the hysterical laughter from his new bosses.

“You're HIRED!” Tony screeched, slapping his desk. “Congratulations!”

Kim grabbed Freddie’s sleeve for balance, laughing so hard her heel broke. She took the back of his hand holding the gun, waving the flag in front of her gleeful smile.

“Your face- you really thought-”

“This looks real!” Freddie flipped it over, having never held a gun before. Instead of labeling which country it was made in, on its side was a spade symbol.

Freddie threw the gun down and stormed out the door, walking so fast he ran into another person who presumably worked there.

The man stumbled back, and Freddie shielded his eyes on the verge of tears.

“Sir, are you okay?”

Freddie shoved past him and walked down the hall, stepping outside into the chilly air. The December snow fell lightly like ash, sprinkling past the leftover Christmas lights decorating the casino exterior.

He considered leaving the place behind and walking back to his dying car parked across the street, surviving the cold until he found another job. Anything would probably be a smarter decision than enrolling into a suspiciously random casino, in the middle of nowhere instead of a city. He'd only ended up here by chance.

The door opened behind him, and Freddie quickly wiped his eyes.

“Sir, I greatly apologize for my associates’ reckless behavior, I can assure you we're not all like that.”

Freddie looked up, noticing the man had one gold eye. He looked genuinely apologetic as he pulled out his wallet, going through an impressive amount of cash.

“I can refund you for your time.” The man met his eyes again. “Name your price.”

Freddie smiled. “How much is too much?”

“I work at a casino, don’t worry about it.”

Freddie hummed, pretending to consider actually taking this man’s money. He never considered himself a thief, only ever resulting to stealing after being robbed himself.

He decided to change the subject, leaning back to raise his chin at him. “What’s your name?”

The man blinked, blanking out for a second. “Ashton. I work in the Spade department, so I understand if you-”

“Put your wallet away, I’m not buying something you didn’t do.” Freddie shrugged. “Just explain to me why the guy who interviewed me had three eyes.”

Ashton laughed, pulling a ten out of his wallet. “Good question. It’s because he’s immortal.”

Freddie squinted doubtfully. “Really?”

“He reincarnated. Long story, so I’m told.” Ashton held the folded dollar out to him. “Look, before you go anywhere, at least use this to buy some food down at the hot dog stand over on Chord Street. I swear by their food.”

Freddie looked at the dollar hesitantly. Part of him expected to unfold it and see a religious message on the other side.

Ashton moved his thumb, revealing another ten inside. “Twenty dollars. You can get four hot dogs-”

“What’s your salary?”

“No more than what you were offered.”

Freddie rolled his eyes and snatched the money from him, turning back to the door. He glanced back at Ashton as he pocketed it. “Do you think I should work here?”

Ashton gave him a once-over, possibly comparing the price of their respective suits. He dressed like a funeral attendant compared to Freddie’s light brown suit he stole along with the car. “I wouldn't advise you to take any job you're not suitable for.”

He casually walked back into the casino, not leaving the door open. It closed behind him with a click, and Freddie suddenly felt offended at Ashton’s implication. He could be fit for any job, he could do anything if it meant making enough money to buy something better than that plain black suit.

Before he could stop himself, he marched through the door and caught up with Ashton, who only made it halfway through the hall. He grabbed his arm.

“I’m already hired, Ash.” He said it more aggressively than necessary. “Good luck paying me off now.”

Ashton raised an eyebrow, already turning his attention away as the red door opened in front of them.

Tony poked his head out, grinning at both of them. “Ah, you're back! I’m so glad we didn't have to hire the guy before you, his audition was a joke.” He beckoned them inside, taking Freddie’s arm and sitting him back on the chair where he started.

Kim sat behind the desk, stacking papers and organizing them into the drawer. Her smile avoided Ashton entirely. “Welcome to the family, Freddie. We look forward to working with you starting tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thanks.” Freddie didn't know what else to say, suddenly wary of Tony standing next to him with a hand on the back of his chair. The room felt crowded with awkward tension, and Ashton lit a cigarette from his place guarding the closed door.

Tony tilted his head. “You don’t have any questions, mate?”

“Uh, sure I do.” Freddie coughed. “Why did you people pretend to kill me?”

“It’s just part of the ritual.” Kim pulled out a keyring from another drawer, tossing it at Tony. “Can you give him the tour? I need the office alone with Ashton for a minute.”

Ashton snorted, and Freddie wondered how common the exchange was. Tony patted Freddie’s shoulder and urged him out of the chair.

Once Tony shut the door he exhaled, yanking Freddie by the arm through an elevator. “Ah, let ‘em keep the office. The best part of this building are the dorms, and yours is going to be all the way down here.”

They stopped at a white door with a red heart in its center, accompanied by three other white doors with matching card suits. Freddie noticed another keyring hanging from Tony’s belt, holding four duplicate room keys.

“Whenever you need us, we’ll be right with you. But don’t make noises you don’t want us to hear.” Tony swung the door open, inviting him inside.

“Are you also the keymaster? Can you enter everyone’s room?”

“I’m the family guard dog, so to speak.” Tony pointed to his third eye. “I can see nightmares, and if anything scary happens, I’ll know. If you need protection, I’m your guy.”

Freddie decided it was a joke, based on his casual tone, and cautiously followed him inside. 

Tony turned on the bedside lamp, casting the room into a rosy glow, and Freddie gasped in disbelief.

He slowly took in the design of his entirely red room, and the price of luxury he’d only seen in movies started to make his head spiral. Heart motifs decorated every inch in sight, candles arranged with rose bouquets, a mini kitchen with an espresso machine, everything made it look like a Valentine’s Day hotel suite.

Even the bed was heart shaped, and Freddie excitedly sat on the silk covers before falling back. It felt like a cloud. He’d never have to sleep in that stupid car again.

He propped himself on his elbows. “Mr. Tony?”

“You don't gotta call me Mister, that makes me sound formal. And old.”

“Sorry- Tony? Are all of the suit rooms like this?”

Tony cackled, taking a seat on the heart-shaped office chair. “Corny, eh? My room’s the Club room, and lemme tell ya, it’s the most fun for sleepovers. Kim’s is Diamond, she’s got all the expensive jewelry ‘n shit, and Ashton’s Spade.” He tipped his sunglasses, boring his red eyes into Freddie’s head. “Whatever you do, don’t go in there.”

“Sure thing.” Freddie thumbed his blankets, wondering if his wardrobe had clothes as expensive as everything else. “Are there any, um, ground rules I should be wary of?”

“Only three: no destroying the property, no stealing, and have fun!” Tony stood up with his arms thrust out like a scarecrow. “This room is your safe space, and where you’ll spend time getting ready for your shifts. You wanna see the rest of the building?”

Freddie didn't want to do anything but curl up and fall asleep. He figured if any of his new coworkers were easygoing, it was probably only Tony.

“I think I’ll take a nap first, if that's okay. I haven’t slept in a real bed in days.”

“Really?” Tony dropped back into his seat, ignoring the nap mention completely. “Do tell.”

Freddie chewed his tongue, calculating how much to say. “Well, um, I’ve been driving away from my hometown for about a week now. I stayed in a few motels, none of which were offering jobs, so-”

“You saw our ad on the news?”

Freddie frowned. “No, I saw it in the newspaper, actually. But it was so small, the only details I really paid attention to was the location, and the lack of experience necessary.” He waved a hand like he was addressing an audience. “No bachelor’s degree, no good grades- but I’m more than qualified to start anywhere that has instructions. Probably.”

Tony’s fluffy tail wagged behind him. “That’s not smart.”

“I know. That’s why I thought I was going to die.”

“HA! Not yet, you’re not!” Tony jumped to stand on the chair, pointing down at Freddie. “Give it a week, mate, and you’ll have no idea when props are fake and when they’re real. We host real Russian Roulette every Friday night in the Spade room.”

Freddie paled, thinking back to Ashton. “Are you serious? Do people actually sign up for it?”

“Yup. And the winning customers are always satisfied. One guy walked away with Kim’s corvette, she was so mad.” Tony sighed wistfully as he climbed off the chair. He walked up to Freddie, standing several feet over him with a bent neck just to keep eye contact, making Freddie crane his neck out of politeness.

“Your shift starts at twelve tomorrow, but there’s free breakfast at eight.” He said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a golden pocket watch, popping it open to let its ticking fill the air. “Dinner’s at six, though depending on your schedule, you might need to fill your own fridge.”

He dropped the watch into Freddie’s lap, startling him. “You’re gonna lose track of time faster than you think, so keep this on your person, yeah?”

He didn’t wait for Freddie’s response, already halfway through the door with a smile. “Oh, and one last thing: your uniform hasn't been tailored yet, you’ll have to get that done with Kim soon. But there’s a placeholder suit in the wardrobe for you when you're ready.”

Freddie held back from excitedly running to check it out, offering Tony an appreciative nod instead. “Thanks. I hate to have to ask this, but-” he gestured at Tony’s clean cut attire. “Do we always have to dress formally? Don’t you guys ever wear t-shirts?”

“Of course we do! We wear all kinds of things, we’re only formal on the clock. You’ll find pajamas in there too.” His claws curled around the door as he pulled it closed. “Sleep well!”

Freddie waited for the footsteps to descend completely, met with silence as he set the pocketwatch aside. He stood, walking to the wardrobe next to the closed window and yanked it open.

Examining each red clothing on the hangers, he found a striped penguin suit, a bathrobe, an assortment of ties and suspenders, garters, belts- and a flannel set of pajamas he gravitated toward on sight. He ran his hand down the soft fuzzy pantleg, and as he turned to close the doors, he saw a pair of glasses taped over the small door mirror.

They were red, heart-shaped, and Freddie suddenly wished he didn't have to wear his own worn out pair. His cheap reading glasses he bought at a gas station already had a cracked lens. But if the hearts were a requirement for the uniform, he wondered if they’d allow prescribed designs.

He threw his old clothes into a pile by the door, took a hot bath in his new bathroom, toweled off and felt so clean he could act like yesterday didn’t even happen. His curly hair didn't look oily for once, since he used so much shampoo the scent of lavender started to cloud the whole room.

Just as he climbed under the covers to rest, he accidentally kicked the nightstand back, rattling something rolling around in the drawer. Having only found holy bibles in such drawers, Freddie’s curiosity made him scoot across the bed to open it.

He found a tiny open bottle on its side, spilling dozens of white pills. The only other objects rolling around were the cork and a red heart-shaped box with plastic wrapping poking through its crack.

Freddie shut the drawer and turned the lamp off.

Chapter Text

Kim chuckled as the door clicked shut. She waved a pen at Ashton like she was scolding a child. “Be nice to him, Ashton, he’s new to the business.”

“Exactly why this is a bad idea. He’s too random.”

“Oh, any face in the crowd can become as powerful as us, with the right guidance.” Kim leaned back in her chair to kick her feet up on the desk, motioning for Ashton to sit in Freddie’s chair. “I have a proposal for you, since you seem so eager to buy our boy out so soon.”

Ashton kept a poker face. “Shoot.”

“Hiring the fourth member was our final goal this year, and now that we’re on our way to actual fame, we’re going to need to train Freddie to be one of us. And I’d prefer to get it done as fast as possible.” Kim chewed her pen. “Tomorrow's New Year's Eve, and by the end of January, I want Mr. Heart to be our casino’s entire focus. He is going to be the trophy people will come far and wide for.”

Ashton cracked his knuckles to keep from interrupting. Once Kim stopped talking, he asked “how? He’s just one guy.”

“Well, once he’s displayed in my auction, he won’t be.” Kim winked.

Ashton’s fake eye twitched. “If you think people are going to pay to date that guy-”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I would be. Sure.” Ashton shook his head as he stood up. “Because he’s not up to any millionaire’s standards, and if you think you can turn him into one, you’re gonna have to convince him this job is worthwhile.”

“He needs money. That’s all the convincing he needs.” Kim flicked her eyes toward the safe embedded in the wall, blocked behind bulletproof glass. “He’s too weak to rob us, so… why not promise him a wealthy future?”

Ashton’s knuckles were white. He hadn’t been infuriated like this in a while, but he and Kim were the two most disagreeable people in the building. Being security at her auctions had always drained his energy, and to think she’d offer up one of their own felt a little dehumanizing, even if Ashton had nothing to do with it. He’d only been lucky enough to see the rich side of life after killing his way up the ladder.

He didn’t want to bury Freddie with them.

“I’m gonna get something to eat,” he said, leaving the room.

-

Ashton ordered hot dogs and fries for dinner.

Tony sat across from him at the white cloth table, eagerly sticking his nose in the bag and thanking him between bites. Kim sat next to them, across the empty seat they’d arranged for Freddie.

Ashton glanced between them. “Is our fourth wheel coming?”

Tony snickered. “He’s coming, don’t worry.”

“Do you seriously think he’s here to stay? He just seems too inexperienced-”

“You’re making a lot of assumptions, Ashton.”

“I’m being observant, actually.” Ashton peeled the wrapping delicately, careful not to drop too many poppy seeds off his bun. “Just because we did one interview doesn't mean we know anything about him.”

“That’s why this’ll be the perfect time to ask questions.” Kim snipped. “Maybe he’s more than qualified.”

“He’s never even worked at a fast food joint.”

Tony lifted a finger. “He did mention he washed a car once, all by himself.”

Ashton sighed. “Anyone can do that.” He could swear they just didn’t want to admit they purposely hired a blank slate so they could mold him into whatever they needed. Freddie was willingly walking straight into the job the other three couldn’t manage, and if he was as much a people pleaser as he seemed, he would break like an overcrowded bridge. 

Ashton himself had seen enough people shoot themselves to wonder how long it would take Freddie to lose his sanity like the rest of them.

Kim, on the other hand, remained optimistic. “I’ll train him tomorrow.”

Tony grabbed the ketchup and mustard bottles to make a mess of his food. “Tomorrow’s Friday Die-day, Spade, who’s coming to the Roulette?”

“I don’t remember their names until they die.”

The conversation cut as they turned to the kitchen area. Freddie stepped in wearing his red pajamas, holding heart sunglasses to his chest.

Ashton turned back to his hot dog, vaguely beckoning him to the empty chair.

Freddie sat at the table, smiling innocently. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nah.” Tony snatched the sunglasses away, holding them up. “Aw, you can’t wear these?”

“If you let me get them prescribed-”

“Done.” Tony snapped his fingers. “Expect them by tomorrow.”

Ashton pushed a hot tog toward Freddie. “Try it, it’s… it’s got relish on it.”

Freddie eyed him as he ate it, mumbling his thanks.

Kim clapped her hands, causing Tony to stop chewing. “Freddie. Since you’re so new to the family, why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself, hm?”

Ashton watched the way Freddie sat a little straighter. His demeanor went from casual to alert within seconds.

“Um. There’s not much to say, really.” Freddie set the hot dog down. “I was driving for a long time, and… now I’m here.”

“Ran away from home.” Tony added.

Ashton shot Kim a frown, but she only grinned back.

“Freddie, I have another question for you.” She leaned forward on her elbows, staring into his eyes without blinking. “Are you a virgin?”

Tony belted out laughing, nearly scratching the table with his claws. “What kind of question is that? Of course he is, look at him!”

Freddie bit his lip, suddenly fake laughing just to match Tony. “I’m- no, I’m not a virgin, actually.”

“Ah-ha.” Kim sat back in her seat, satisfied. “Then you’ve already beat Ashton in that field.”

Ashton snorted. “Sex is a waste of time.”

“Only if you're bad at it!” Tony cackled. “C’mon, mate, give us the scoop! You leave a string of broken hearts behind or what?”

Ashton felt the urge to end the subject before it escalated. He could see Freddie uncomfortably shift in his seat, and whatever he said next could be the final straw.

Freddie swallowed another bite. “No. It was just one.”

“Oh, you’ll be doing numbers at this job,” Kim giggled. “I can’t wait to see it.”

“Kim.”

“What? Don’t be so paranoid, Ashton. You ask him a question.”

Ashton turned to Freddie. He had multiple questions ranging from ‘do you even know what this job is’ to ‘do you have any hobbies’, but he ultimately decided to go the easy route.

He cleared his throat, offering Freddie a professional smile. “Have you seen the karaoke jukebox yet?”

Freddie’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you guys have one of those? Where?”

“In the Club room!” Tony laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll have to show you after your training’s done. We usually get wasted on Saturdays.”

Kim raised an eyebrow as she sipped her wine. “Do you drink, Freddie?”

Freddie shook his head. He glanced at Ashton, quick enough for the others to miss, but long enough to leave an impression.

Tony refilled Kim’s glass. “How many are you on? Three?”

“It’s a small glass, Tony, it barely counts.”

Ashton lowered his voice while they were distracted, leaning closer to Freddie. “I don’t drink either, it’s fine. I’m only an addict to cigarettes and caffeine.”

Freddie chuckled as he crumpled his wrapper. “I’ll bet you twenty dollars I can work here without forming a single addiction.”

“That’s-”

“Did someone say BET?” Tony whooped. “What are we betting?”

Kim grinned uncomfortably wide. “Well, Freddie, you’re catching on quick!”

“He’s joking.” Ashton snapped, already knowing Freddie stupidly wouldn’t back out of anything. “He thinks he can last here without becoming an addict.”

Tony wheezed. “Tough luck. I’m betting NO.”

“How many things can people even be addicted to?” Freddie asked. “I don’t do cocaine, I’m not an impulsive shopper, I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I-”

“You’ll become an addict to something, trust me.” Kim said, reaching in her purse to pull out a fifty. “I’m only betting because I know you’ll lose.”

Tony added another fifty, and Ashton threw in a hundred to pile it off. Freddie stared at it as his heart sank.

“Two hundred versus twenty.” Ashton looked him in the eye. “You can back out, if you’re not scared to bruise your ego.”

Freddie looked at him with a mixture of annoyance and regret. It made Ashton want to yank him outside and send him off to a boring office job, to live out the rest of his life away from a casino full of temptations.

Tony patted Freddie’s shoulder. “I got a better idea, why don’t you change the bet? Instead of thinking you can survive without addictions, let’s bet over your ability to work despite it, eh? I bet you can do your job even if your head’s as cloudy as London.”

“You’ll work up a tolerance.” Kim added. “I’d give you a week before you’re spending your tips on the medicine cabinet.”

Ashton nudged Freddie. “That’s what she calls her drug collection.”

“I knew that,” Freddie lied.

Tony gathered the crumpled wrappers into a ball, tossing it in his hands. “Ay, Kim, you should probably show him that before his first shift starts. You don’t know if he’ll get queasy.”

Kim hummed. Ashton knew her long enough to know she collected poisons as much as she did psychedelics, but she didn't hand out either of them on a whim.

She tossed her head, grinning at Freddie. “C’mon, lemme show you the cabinet.”

-

Kim pulled the curtain back, revealing a giant glass cabinet filled with bottles and boxes on twenty shelves. Freddie drew his eyes over the entire thing like he'd entered an illegal warzone.

The single lightbulb dangling over them flickered, and the chord bounced off the glass like a moth.

Kim offered him a movie theater mint from a crystal goblet. “Mint?”

Freddie took it just to be polite. He pointed at a random bottle to distract her. “What's that one?”

“Oh, this is my finest truth serum, Siero Della Verità.” Kim presented the purple wine with flourish, tapping her nails on the glass. “The ingredients for this are currently extinct, making this one of the last bottles in existence. Most of the production of these were done during World War 2 in the state of California-”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Freddie nodded at another bottle. “I know these are just wines, you don't have to pretend they're fancy. I get it.”

Kim frowned. “You don't believe me?”

“I mean you're an auctioneer, you gotta upscale it all the time.” Freddie tried to think of a compliment. “Because ‘success isn’t ethics’ or something.”

Kim wrinkled her nose as she put the bottle back, and the bulb cut out for a split second. “Don’t tell me you were a business major dropout.”

“No. Art major, actually.”

“Dropout?”

“Unfortunately.”

Kim poured him a shot glass of sparkling champagne. “I’m starting to think I’d kill you last, Freddie.”

“Ah. Thanks.”

The light burnt out completely.

Chapter Text

Tony kicked the jukebox until Black Dog by Led Zeppelin came on. Other than the radio sitting on the kitchen counter, it was the only source of music in the entire private quarters of the casino.

He gave Freddie the rest of the backstage tour, handing him a map in case he got lost, taking him past a bar, pool tables, slot machines, and collections of priceless items behind glass. Once they reached the kitchen and dining area, it looked as simple in daylight as it did when they ate hot dogs for dinner.

Tony introduced Freddie to the waffle maker, and after piling their plates with bagels and sausages, they lifted their fancy coffees and clinked mugs.

Tony let his tongue hang from his mouth, drooling between bites of sausage. “Figured I’d let you know how we get so popular over here since you're joining the train to fame. It's all about the appeal of immortality.”

He sank his teeth into the meat so fast it spurt juice against Freddie’s glasses. “Whoops. Anyway, as far as we know, all immortals are monsters.” He licked his claws. “And believe me, none of them look as good as I do.”

Through his chewing he withdrew a pair of red heart-shaped glasses from his breast pocket. He unfolded it with just a flick of his wrist, reaching across the table to set them directly on Freddie’s head.

Freddie blinked as he adjusted them, setting his old pair aside. “Wow, this is- this is the best pair I’ve ever had! I feel like I can actually see everything,” His gaze shifted, suddenly noticing just how terrifyingly uncanny Tony looked in front of him.

His teeth were neon yellow, sharp as knives, and the black fur that covered his entire body looked as soft as a well-groomed cat. Smoke tendrils radiated off of him, floating up like raindrops in antigravity.

Freddie had yet to see him in an angered state, which he'd try to avoid at all costs. “So, there's um… other monsters?”

“Not a lot of them! But many humans wanna join the few. That's why they come here, they gamble, mingle with the crowd, gather whatever they can, and BANG!” Tony slammed the table, rattling their coffees. “They bet it all on Russian Roulette! If they win, they'll put a bullet in their head, and reincarnate like a zombie without a due date.”

Freddie took his sticky coffee mug that spilled over the edge. He wasn't the most skeptical person, and he found himself believing in most of what Tony said, especially considering the man was living proof. “How many have succeeded?”

Tony pretended to count on his claws. “Well, technically…” he chuckled darkly. “We don't actually know how to complete the reincarnation process, because it all happens post-death.”

Freddie stiffened. “You mean you've been scamming people to commit suicide?”

“Whoa, hold on, mate, that's exaggerating! Lemme put it this way.” Tony folded his hands, resting his chin on them to appear less threatening. “First of all, I have no memories of my past life, so technically any monster wandering around could be a reincarnation and not even know. Second of all, being immortal isn't- it’s not the most glamorous life ever.”

The furry ears in his hair lowered suddenly. “It comes with the cost of having one specific weakness, which I can still die from even if I’m immune to being murdered, or catching disease, or every other way of dying. The only way I can die is by starvation, and I have an insatiable hunger.”

Freddie caught on quick, shifting uncomfortably where he sat. He had what he used to think was an irrational fear of cannibals, and why he thought eating alfredo would kill him instantly.

“You eat them, don’t you?”

Tony grinned. “Bingo.”

“How many?” Freddie demanded, too scared to stand up but too curious to stop. “Do you do it because they’re sinners? You just lure people into the illusion of rich immortality, and just- eat them?”

“Yup.”

“Are you planning on eating me?”

Tony chewed in thought, quietly staring at him. Freddie couldn’t read his face, but looking at his own reflection in his lenses made him feel small enough already.

“Eh.” Tony grinned. “I think you’d enjoy immortality. Wouldn’t wanna take that away from you.”

Freddie blinked. Somehow the answer stunned him, and he remembered a time he genuinely believed immortality was a possibility. Nowadays he associated it with as much realism as the concept of heaven- real, but not within his reach.

“Do you like being immortal?” he asked.

Tony’s tail wagged. “I love it! Besides the famine problem, my life is smooth sailing for eternity! I’ve got friends, no fears of dying, and best of all-” he clamped a hand on Freddie’s shoulder from across the table, like a soccer coach ending his speech with complete seriousness. “I get to live to see the end of the world.”

He grinned again. “And everything else!”

Freddie sipped his coffee. He wrinkled his nose and rushed to add more sugar. “I don’t think I’d like immortality. I mean, I’d have to outlive everyone, over and over again- and what if I got stuck somewhere?” He drank his coffee, surprised Tony hadn’t said anything yet. He leaned back in his seat, feigning nonchalance. “Death is only scary if it’s too soon. Once I hit seventy, I think I’m good.”

Tony snorted. “I don’t even know how old I am. What about reincarnation? Don’t you ever get tired of being human?”

“What’s wrong with being human?”

“I used to be one.” Tony pointed at his forehead. “Don’t remember what it was like, but I probably didn’t have a third eye!”

The music cut off, and they looked up to see Kim leaning on the jukebox wearing a pink silk bathrobe with fur on its edges. Her hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and her makeup was done so subtly as if she wanted their attention to be only on her arched eyebrow.

“Enjoying your breakfast, are we?” she teased, suddenly holding an unlit cigarette.

“Morning.” Freddie greeted. Tony grunted with his mouth full.

Kim lit her cigarette with the stovetop burner. “Tony, dear, we have a schedule for today. It’s New Year's Eve.”

She blew smoke over Freddie’s head, causing him to duck and wave it away. “You. Bartender’s office. Fifteen minutes.” She spun around and left without eating.

Tony licked his plate clean, taking Freddie’s unfinished breakfast to eat too. “You better go. She gets impatient fast.”

Freddie nervously stood up and pushed his chair to the table. He was in no rush to start whatever tasks she’d assign him, not that he had any idea what they’d be, and he started to wonder if Kim was as potentially dangerous as Tony was. 

Ashton may even be the most dangerous, if someone like Tony believed so.

“Tony,” Freddie started, “What is she going to make me do?”

Tony smirked up at him from his seat. “Depends on how much she likes you. All I can say is keep your chin up and remember that she’s the boss, and whatever she says goes. She’s the reason this casino’s even still running.” He pointed a claw at Freddie’s flannel pajamas. “And get ready to change out of those, because the uniform won't be nearly as comfortable.”

-

Ashton tapped his foot as he waited at his car, checking his watch every five seconds. He’d been standing in the casino’s driveway for several minutes as snow lightly sprinkled around him.

The air chilled his breaths between puffs of smoke, and Ashton almost distracted himself with the thought of riding the train again when the door burst open behind him. He didn't turn around to see Tony stumble down the stairs.

“It’s already two o’clock, Tony,” Ashton said, shifting on his heel. “Now let’s get this show on the road before the new guy finishes-”

He was suddenly staring at Freddie, frozen behind him like a statue caught stealing. His red suit was loosely worn over his shoulders, his tie done wrong, and nothing about his appearance read as sophisticated as anyone else in the building.

Ashton narrowed his eyes. “I was just talking about you.”

If Freddie wasn't already disoriented and leaning against the wall for support, he might've snapped back. Instead he just nodded weakly. “I can see why you think I'm not fit for this job.”

Ashton watched him sit on the steps, bury his head in his hands, and he suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of regret. Not for judging Freddie, but for being right.

“I can't leave,” Freddie murmured, so quiet Ashton could barely hear him. “I can’t go back to being unemployed, this is all I have. I really like it here.” He lifted his head, pushing his heart glasses up his head to wipe new tears forming in his eyes. “I can't keep up with any of you.”

Ashton sat next to him, causing Freddie to wince with a forced laugh. It was like he tried to make every situation less awkward with that laugh of his, and it never worked. It just made Ashton confused.

Freddie sniffled, still avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry Tony’s not helping you. Kim called him over to help her set up fireworks for tonight's party.”

Ashton snorted. “That was originally your job, I’m guessing?”

“No, I- I was supposed to bartend tonight. I just didn't think my training would be so intense.”

“What did she make you do?”

Freddie’s head fell on his folded arms, and with his knees pulled up, he looked like a sullen child. “They were paid actors, but I thought they were real customers. She said the stress was to prepare me for what actually happens.”

Ashton bit his tongue from lecturing him about how right he was, and saying Freddie was too soft for a place like this. He didn't have the strength to handle crowds, let alone rich ones who put their investments in all the worst promises, and he knew it. Freddie was just at the wrong place at the right time.

Despite all of this, Freddie forced a smile back on his face and turned to look Ashton in the eye. “I can still try again, I just- I need a minute.”

Ashton ran his thumb over his knuckle, thinking of ways to pummel the supposed ‘paid actors’. To take his thoughts away from complete violence, he nodded at his car. “Why don't you help me with what Tony was supposed to do? It’s easier than bartending.”

Freddie shivered. “What is it?”

“We were just gonna drive into the city to pick up some supplies. You don't even have to leave the car, you just have to keep a lookout.” Ashton stood, extending his hand down. “C’mon, we’ll only be out for half an hour, tops.”

Freddie hesitated, his fingers lingering an inch away from Ashton’s. He peered up at him like a nervous rabbit. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

Ashton sighed. “I don't do it for fun. You have anyone in mind?”

“No! I just… thought I’d ask.” Freddie took his hand, being pulled to his feet. He stood two stairs above Ashton, making them the same height for once. “Who have you killed?”

“Only those who deserve it, and all of them were fed to Tony.” Ashton whisked his coat aside to withdraw a rifle from his belt, loading it as he strode over the crunchy snow to his car. He climbed inside to turn it on with the radio, and Freddie gingerly joined him on the right.

“What do you mean they ‘deserve it’?”

Ashton held the gun out to Freddie, who backed away like it was poisonous. “I mean they were not fit to keep living. You ever know anyone like that?”

Freddie hesitated. “I’m sure some people would say I fit in that category.”

Ashton cocked his gun. “Who would say that?”

“Put the gun down, Ash!”

Ashton pulled the car onto the road, slowly placing the gun on the dashboard with a sigh. He drove them toward the city on the road with nothing on either side but the endless desert, where cacti and tumbleweeds made their homes all over the sand.

Freddie started to adjust to the leather seat, getting comfortable sitting next to a deadly criminal with only one hand on the wheel. He clicked through the radio, stopping at a channel playing the Carpenters.

Ashton glanced aside. He saw Freddie lean his head against the window, watching the ground race pass with the same look of wonder someone would have on a roadtrip. With his glasses pushed up, Ashton could see the hazel color in his eyes, like an amber speckled with green dots.

His demeanor finally relaxed as the song continued, uninterrupted, taking the tension from his muscles until he had slumped enough in his seat to fall asleep if he wanted. He kept his eyes open, and Ashton suddenly realized he’d noticed him staring.

Ashton brushed it off immediately. “You still awake?”

Freddie rotated completely, flipping to lean into staring at Ashton on his left side. “Why are you considered the ‘Spade’ of the casino?”

Ashton’s mouth twitched. He suddenly remembered Freddie was supposed to be the supposed ‘Heart’ member, which nearly made his eyes roll. “Because I’m the deadliest, I guess. I've dug a few graves if that helps.”

Freddie hummed. “Kim’s the diamonds-expert, and Tony seems to love running the club… I knew they'd need me to fill in the Heart position the moment I started, but I never really questioned what the other options even were.”

“Your options are auctions, clubbing and gambling.”

“No confessional booths, I’m guessing?” Freddie laughed, and it was the first time Ashton saw him match Tony’s smile. “What made you all so tight-knit, anyway?”

Ashton narrowed his eyes as the car pulled into the outskirts of the city, brightly lit in preparation for the night. The sun wouldn't set for two more hours, but party decorations littered the buildings with snow powdering the streetlamps.

“At the end of the day, this casino only exists to keep Tony alive.” Ashton said. “He needs to eat one human every week, and the only viable substitute he’s found so far is the occasional cow.”

Freddie cringed. “He eats their whole bodies?”

“Nope. He usually just eats the heart. That’s where my gravedigging responsibility comes from.” They drove into the parking lot of a butcher’s shop, with a wooden sign shaped like a slab of meat and the words ‘Cleaver's Corner’ painted over it.

Ashton unbuckled his seatbelt and took his gun, looking at it briefly before dropping it on Freddie’s lap.

Freddie screamed and threw it back. “I don't want it!”

“You need protection even if you're staying in the car!” Ashton snapped, shoving it back at him. “It’s easy, just take the safety off and aim. I’ve got plenty of bullets.”

“No.” Freddie stubbornly kicked his door open and left the car with the gun in his seat, slamming the door shut. “I don't even have a license to use it!”

Ashton slammed the gun on the car roof, glaring at him from the other side. “What are you planning to save yourself with? Having big eyes?”

“I don't need a gun to go grocery shopping,” Freddie droned. He brushed past Ashton, swiftly making his way through the butcher’s door as the bell chimed above his head.

Ashton watched it ring, recognizing it as a leftover Christmas decoration. He followed Freddie past glass cases filled with red slabs of meat, and the delayed stench of raw, putrid flesh swarmed into his senses.

Freddie didn't seem to enjoy it either, keeping his head low while avoiding looking at any of the items for sale. He reluctantly returned to Ashton to whisper, despite them being the only people in the room.

“Why are we here again?”

Ashton pointed up at the Meat of the Month sign. “We’re just picking up the kobe beef. It’s part of the Roulette prize.”

A person wearing a white apron stepped through the curtain from the back. He looked to be no older than twelve, barely tall enough to see over the counter, and he waved at Ashton over his head. “Hello Mr. Ashton! Happy New Year’s Eve!”

“Hi, Mark.” Ashton nudged Freddie. “This is Mark, the butcher’s assistant. He’s a good kid.”

Mark started wrapping some meat in brown paper, tying it with a thin string to carry like a Christmas present. “Did you need anything besides the beef? This is the last day of the knife sale, so take a look before they're all gone.”

He pointed their attention to the knife collection, a large set of knives ranging from meat cleavers to snail forks displayed on a red table. Ashton pulled Freddie by the wrist to examine it.

“No gun license? You could use one of these.”

“I don't need a knife, Ash, I'm not a murderer.”

Ashton lifted a pair of sheep shears, slicing the air to test their cut as Freddie turned away. They weren't even the scariest items on the table, but he looked like he might vomit before they left.

Ashton picked up a simple kitchen knife, with a basic black handle. He took it to where Mark stood at the register. “I’ll take this one too.”

Mark suspiciously looked both ways, pointing crookedly at Freddie. “Is it for him?”

Freddie, out of earshot, kept his attention stuck on the framed painting of a cow’s meat guide.

Ashton grinned and punched Mark’s shoulder. “Just put it in the sleeve, kid.”

“He doesn't look like anyone else you’ve brought in here.” Mark refused to stop squinting at Freddie as he bagged the meat, with the kitchen knife tucked into a leather protector. “Who is he?”

“He's just-” Ashton paused. Mark was the only kid he ever spoke to, and even though he was probably only eight years older, he felt like he needed to be a good influence since Mark didn't have a father. Not that running a casino by killing people was any of Mark’s business, Ashton liked to sugarcoat his lie of ‘working at the bank’.

He studied the back of Freddie’s head as he formed an idea. He turned back to Mark with a hand cupped next to his mouth. “He’s the line cook we hired because Kim and Tony are sick of eating hot dogs. The kitchen knife is just part of the initiation.”

Mark, believing everything he said, nodded along. He handed Ashton the bagged goods cheerfully. “Can you ask him to make rabbit stew someday? I can provide the rabbit!”

“Why do you want rabbit stew?”

“Tony mentioned it last time he was here.” Mark had gotten used to Tony’s monster form enough to stop hiding whenever he came shopping, but he was still wary enough to prefer Ashton running the errands. “He probably knows the recipe, but he made it sound really good. The only other ingredient I remember him mentioning was ‘fancy mushrooms’.”

“Chanterelles.” Ashton lied, knowing damn well Tony hated real mushrooms. “I’ll ask him later. Freddie? We’re all done here.”

Freddie turned around, shooting Mark a quick smile before rushing to follow Ashton out the door.

“Thanks again, Mark. And happy New Year’s Eve.”

Mark saluted from the counter. “Stay safe out there!”

Chapter Text

Kim stepped back to admire her handiwork on the karaoke stage, complete with disco lights, a mirrorball, and the jukebox positioned on the left to give the singers room to duet. The casino would open at six pm, causing her to constantly check the golden clock over the front doors.

The ticking was finally interrupted when Ashton and Freddie stepped through, delivering bags of groceries for the party.

Kim greeted them with open arms, taking the bags off their hands excitedly. “Excellent! Though you could've come sooner.” She was unaffected by the weight of them, which only Freddie seemed surprised by as he watched her take the sparkling cider bottles to the pyramid of champagne glasses.

“Where's the Kobe beef?”

“Right here.” Ashton helped her lay everything out, handing Freddie the meat. “Take this to the kitchen and leave it on the fridge’s top shelf.”

Freddie muttered something as he took it and left.

Kim smiled, wrapping a bottle of aged wine in a red napkin. “He's easy to boss around, isn't he?”

“Only for basic tasks.” Ashton stacked boxes of cigars into a tower, tied with a black ribbon. “He doesn't have a driver’s license, and I'm starting to think he's only twenty.”

Kim shrugged. “If he doesn't want to share his age, that's his right.”

“No, it’s not.”

“We hired you when you were only seventeen.”

“That's different.” Ashton stepped away from the table, checking his gun again. He made it a habit to check it at least every hour. “He shouldn't be bartending if he's not old enough to drink. Some laws are okay to break, but-”

“Oh, what hypocrisy.” Kim put a hand on her hip, turning her nose up as she faced him. “If you want to swap places with him tonight, you're more than welcome to.”

Ashton nearly agreed on the spot, but he had to weigh his options first. Bartending was easy enough, but sending Freddie to witness Russian Roulette in real life would be the real problem.

He sighed with finality. “I’ll bartend. Just have Tony give him a quick run-down so he can guard the door when it happens.”

-

Freddie closed the fridge door and jumped when he saw Tony standing behind it.

“Tony!” Freddie held his hands up, an apple in one of them. “I'm not taking anything else, I’m just hungry, I swear!”

“Snacking before the party even starts?” Tony yanked the fridge open. The food inhabiting it ranged from aged cheeses, truffle butter, lobster tails, to expensive desserts taking up space beside the ordinary fruit bowl.

The apple in Freddie’s hand was arguably worthless in comparison. Tony leaned forward and sniffed it.

Freddie flinched as he chomped into it.

Tony pulled back, satisfied. “It's not poisoned, you can eat it.”

“Are they normally poisoned?”

“Ha! There are hundreds of ways we prepare for murder around here!” Tony linked their arms before dragging Freddie out the door, into the hallway to the dorm rooms. “You're about to see another one now that you're off the bar tonight.”

Freddie halted with sudden terror in his eyes. “Am I fired?”

“No, mate, jeez. Ashton’s covering for you.”

“Oh.” Freddie felt relief at that, mixed with some other emotion he couldn't dwell on as they stopped in front of the Spade door.

“It's Friday,” Tony started, curling his claws over the handle. “I know I told you to never enter Ashton’s room, but if he's not already in here, it's fair game.”

He tapped his knuckle against the door just in case, rhythmic like a drum. “Hey Ash-hole, you in here?”

He swung the door open, sticking his hand through to flick on the lights. The room was dark, lit only by tiny sconces on every wall, with a shiny black floor to reflect everything on the surface like water.

There was no bed, as far as Freddie could tell. Just a round obsidian table with four chairs, a record collection with a gramophone, and an entire section dedicated to displaying weapons wall-to-wall. Axes, hatchets, swords, crossbows, and more guns than Freddie even knew existed were hung over them like warnings.

He started to hate this room and appreciate his own a lot more.

Tony rocked on his heels after setting a suitcase on the table. “Nervous, huh?”

Freddie flinched from looking at a bear trap, gesturing at it as he turned back to Tony. “Doesn’t any of this bother you?”

“What, the hunting gear?” Tony scoffed. “If Ashton suddenly decided to become a monster hunter, I’d be his last target. We’re best friends.”

Freddie didn’t know whether that was sweet or disheartening, knowing he had no best friend of his own. He was pulled from the thought as Tony yawned loudly.

“I gotta favor to ask you, mate.” Tony approached him with his shoulders hunched, like he had second-hand embarrassment from whatever he’d say. “Look, so- it’s New Year’s Eve, right, and it’s the first one all of us have ever celebrated together, yeah?”

He clamped a hand on Freddie’s shoulder. “You know how there’s this… tradition, where you’re supposed to kiss someone when the clock strikes twelve?”

Freddie didn’t know that. “Uh-huh.”

Tony lifted a finger. “I’ve got dibs on Kim. We’re friends with benefits.” He sank his claws into Freddie’s sleeve. “Ashton, on the other hand, has no one.”

He pulled a twenty from his back pocket. He pushed it to Freddie’s chest. “I need you to help me make sure he doesn’t feel left out.”

Freddie gaped, unmoving. “You’re paying me to kiss your best friend?”

“Well, you said you’re not a virgin. You know how to kiss people, right?”

“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even like me!”

“What?” Tony laughed, crumpling the dollar. “Oh, come on, mate, he’s just not a joker like the rest of us! Of course he likes you!”

Freddie folded his arms, glancing at the weapons again. The only thing he’d trust Ashton to be is honest, he’d never trust him to be a particularly safe individual. Just because someone knows how to live dangerously doesn’t mean they can protect everyone around them.

Tony added another twenty, and Freddie pushed his hand down.

“What’s the big deal?”

“You shouldn’t bribe someone to trick your best friend.” Freddie scolded. “Regardless of my actions, don’t you think it’d piss him off to know you did this?”

Tony groaned with his face to the ceiling. “You don’t get it! He’s a sad sack who’s been third-wheeling me and Kim for a long time, and I feel bad for him! If you don’t kiss him I can just pay someone else-”

“No! I mean-”

“You’ll do it?”

“I just don’t think he…” Freddie trailed off, spotting a painting on the wall he hadn’t noticed before. It was tucked to the side behind a thin curtain, like it was hiding from most visitors.

He walked over to take a closer look. It depicted who he assumed was Hamlet, with dark hair, holding a skull as he sat over the grave he pulled it from. The oil paints were expertly blended, giving the painting a warm amber tone, with the brightest hues focused on Hamlet’s skin and the glow of bone in his hand.

Freddie couldn’t help tracing his hand over the signature in the corner. He turned to Tony with wide eyes. “You painted this?”

Tony shrugged sheepishly. “Ashton commissioned me a while back. Hamlet’s his favorite play.”

Freddie could think of a million possibilities of what Ashton was really like, just based on the fact that he actually cared about something other than murder for once. Besides his newfound appreciation for Tony’s art talent, Freddie now had the urge to paint again, even though his skill level was nowhere near as high.

Tony spoke of Ashton like he was some closed-off, solitary, depressed individual who needed to be kissed at a party. Freddie started to see him as a completely normal man with a hitman’s career.

Freddie nodded at the painting. “Give me the painting and I’ll do it.”

Tony opened his mouth, hesitating. “But he’ll notice it’s gone!”

“Then you’ll have to tell him why.” Freddie said. “Or he’ll have to find it in my room and have me explain why I took it.”

“Then just lie! C’mon, mate, don’t tell him I told you to kiss him, that’s embarrassing for both of us-”

Freddie took the painting down, already marching out the room to hang it on his own. He knew it wasn’t the most sensible decision he’s ever made, but something about stealing a painting from him felt exciting.

Tony whined from the doorway, his howl morphing into a wheezing laugh. “Ashton’s gonna kill me if you two don’t end up together.”

Freddie hung the painting directly over his bed, taking down the heart-shaped mirror that originally sat in its place. “Was that your original intention? To have us become partners?”

“Here's my philosophy, mate: I don't think anyone who cares about humanity deserves to die alone. And Ashton cares about humanity more than he should, which is why he only kills people who’ve completed most of their lives already.” Tony scratched his neck with a deep frown forming on his face. “Kim’s philosophy is that two people shouldn’t be together unless it’s mutually beneficial, which is why she won’t date me.”

Freddie climbed off his bed, walking back to Tony, who was unintentionally blocking the door with his size. He folded his arms, eyeing him with his neck craned. “This is really important to you, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Tony’s ears flattened. “Even if you don’t end up romantically involved, I just want him to at least experience something before he dies. I’ll outlive him someday, which is already a turmoil I have to deal with. I mean- you’re literally the Heart member! If anyone can fix him, it’s you.”

“Fix him?”

“You know what I mean.”

Freddie’s head was spinning with doubts. He shoved past Tony and returned to the Spade room, and before he could say anything, the gold clock chimed the fifth hour.

It was loud enough to ring the entire building. Tony gave Freddie one last smile with his hand on the door.

“Please,” he said it so softly Freddie thought it was someone else’s voice. “At least high five him, eh?”

He shut the door and locked it.

-

The casino buzzed with excitement. Wealthy guests flocked the bar, the slot machines, the poker tables, and a crowd formed in front of the karaoke stage to watch Kim pop a bottle of champagne.

Normally the color scheme of the building never strayed from red and black, with gold accents and the occasional white or dark green of the poker games, but the festivity of New Year's Eve gave them an excuse to add blue to the mix. The Happy Hour menu included a limited edition Crystal Cider, which was a drink Ashton and Tony invented only a month ago.

After pouring glasses for a few of her prized acquaintances, Kim made her way over to the bar. She watched her coworkers struggle to serve dozens of drinks before they were left alone, and sauntered up to them with a smug grin.

“How’s it going?”

Ashton glared back. “Fine, thanks for asking instead of helping.”

Kim giggled, only partially sober. “It should cool down now that the karaoke machine’s running. Is Freddie in the Spade room?”

“Yeah.” Tony coughed, leaning on Ashton. “About that-”

“Who signed up?” Kim finished. “Well, I’ve got Ruth, Gladys, Rosemary-”

“Where are the paid actors?” Ashton interrupted with his fists on the counter. When Kim gave him a bewildered look he sighed and pulled the towel off his shoulder, wiping a random glass to keep his hands busy. “The ones you hired this morning?”

“Ohh,” Kim jerked her head at a group of men in leather jackets over their dress suits, like they were rich people pretending to be in a motorcycle gang. Kim grinned as she sipped her champagne. “They’re really good at intimidating people, I’m probably going to hire them again-”

“Maybe after they play the game.” Ashton whacked the towel at Tony without taking his eyes off the group. He left the bar to instigate something while the other two exchanged looks.

Tony grimaced at Kim. “Should I do something?”

“No. It’s funnier when he messes up.”

Ashton didn’t hear either of them as he tapped the tallest member on the shoulder, who stood at least a few inches taller than him. The leader turned around, his face hidden behind a pair of ridiculous sunglasses shaped like 1972.

He raised his eyebrows down at Ashton, and his four companions followed suit like clones. “Can I help you?”

Ashton whipped out his gun and pressed it to the man’s stomach. “Walk.”

He pushed him and his friends toward the hallway, leading them to the Spade room while they exchanged confused looks. Knowing the nature of the casino, they probably couldn't tell if the gun was fake or not.

Ashton kept it pointed at them and opened the door with his free hand, sending them all in before following. He shut the door behind him and blocked it.

Freddie was sitting at the table, standing up as soon as they entered. His eyes were wide, and the sheet of paper in his hands started to shake.

Ashton nodded at him encouragingly.

The 1972 leader started laughing. “Hey, I remember this guy!”

His companions snickered.

“Hi,” Freddie said nervously, moving his eyes to burn into the paper. “Um- welcome to the Spade room, where we play Russian Roulette every Friday night. Today’s prizes are-”

“I don't wanna play Russian Roulette,” one of the men wearing a top hat said.

“Too bad.” Ashton reset his gun. “Sit down.”

The four men sat down, and he forced the fifth one to drag another chair over from the back of the room. Freddie scurried to Ashton’s side at the door, still clutching his paper with basic instructions on ‘how to play Russian Roulette’.

Ashton wanted to yank it away and crumple it up, but he had a feeling that would just scare him more.

“Ashton, are you sure we’re supposed to make people play if they didn't sign up for it?”

Ashton popped the gun open, looking down at three loaded bullets. “Did these men hurt you, Freddie?”

Freddie hesitated. Too pale to deny it, he whispered, “Nothing they did warrants an execution.”

“Then tell them they can back out. You know they won't.” Ashton held his gun next to his real eye, ignoring him. “Winning prize is worth four million dollars, split among four winners.”

The men perked up at that.

“Someone has to die in order for anyone to win.” Ashton stepped back. “You already know how to play.”

“What do you mean it’s worth four million dollars?” the man wearing a sparkly gold suit asked. “It's not just cold hard cash?”

Ashton reached in his pocket to pull out a folded invitation, handing it to Freddie to read aloud.

Freddie adjusted his glasses, struggling to read the fine printed list. “In addition to three million dollars in cash, you will receive ten pounds of Kobe beef, a lobster platter, a diamond jewelry set stolen from the Louvre, a dormant dinosaur egg-”

“You get the idea.” Ashton interrupted. He cocked his gun. “Oh, and one more thing.”

He shot the top hat, sending it flying off the man’s head as they all started screaming.

“What the fuck was that for?!”

“My hat!” He lifted up its remaining tatters, still trembling from shock. “He shot my hat!”

Click.

“There’s still two bullets left.” Ashton said, dragging his stare across their bewildered faces. None of them thought he was joking. “I intend to give you one for the game, but the other’s destiny is your choice. Either I shoot one of you for fun, or I shoot the ceiling and you all apologize to Freddie.”

The men opened their mouths but said nothing, squinting amongst themselves. Freddie wanted to shrink into the ground from embarrassment.

“Ash-”

“Who’s Freddie?” 1972 asked.

Ashton walked up to his chair and pressed the barrel to the back of his head. “Your bartender from this morning.”

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry, I’m so- don't kill me, please! I have kids!”

“What did you do, exactly?”

“I, uh, I- uh- stressed him out by ordering too many drinks? I have a family! I have a wife-”

Ashton pulled the gun away to sweep across the table until every man blubbered out an apology, followed by tearful excuses. Ashton walked back to Freddie with satisfaction.

“Oh Lord,” Freddie covered his face completely. “You didn’t have to-”

Ashton fired at the ceiling. The men behind him sighed with relief. He opened the door, letting Freddie shuffle out into the hallway in shock.

He originally intended to just close the door in his face and finish the game, but he stopped when he saw Freddie back into the wall, hyperventilating.

Ashton shut the door behind him and tried to catch him before he fell over, only managing to roughly yank him back to his feet with his grip digging into his forearms.

Freddie wheezed, and Ashton realized he was laughing. He was grinning with tears in his eyes.

“What was that?” he whispered, like they were sharing an inside joke. “Did you see their faces? For a second I thought you were actually gonna-”

BANG.

They could hear screams from the Spade room. Neither of them moved for several seconds.

Ashton let go, swinging his arms as he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m going to check on the body. You can go back to the real party.”

“Yeah.” Freddie felt for his pocketwatch, glancing down at it. He waited for Ashton to close the door behind him before clicking it open.

He still had five hours left.  

Chapter Text

Tony was considered the party animal for a reason. Out of everyone in the quartet, he wore the most colors, played the most musical instruments, and ate the most humans. 

He occupied the karaoke machine with Kim, both of them singing Somebody to Love in matching red feather boas. They’d lost track of how many drinks they had, hours that passed, and they were only a few more away to completely forget where they were.

They’d never officially been together, as far as Tony was concerned, but they spent enough time together to pretend they’d been high school sweethearts- at least in a past life. Kim was the blonde head cheerleader prom queen, and Tony was the cryptid living in her attic telling her to kill people. Sometimes Tony couldn't take any of his eyes off her for hours.

Kim smiled back at him lazily. Her hair fell around her head in messy waves, too much hairspray, too much teasing. Her New Year’s costume was a sparkly red flapper dress, opposite Tony’s domino Jekyll & Hyde costume.

They wobbled off the stage, stabilizing each other pathetically. Kim’s high heel caught on someone’s walking cane, sending them flying into the wall. Tony groaned and guided them to sit on a velvet couch in the lobby.

He didn't feel sick enough to throw up, but he felt dizzier than any sober person should be. His ears flicked back to the next singers, kicking off with the Beatles. He shook his fur, twitched his nose until he sneezed.

Kim swung her head like it was too heavy to hold up. “C’mon, guard dog, you’re supposed to keep us both stable.”

“You nearly killed me with your heel, ma’am,” Tony said.

Kim playfully shoved him. “Bitch.”

His tail thumped on the cushion, wagging aggressively. She could treat him like a dog all she wanted, but he was just happy to have attention.

Kim tapped his nose just to watch his eyes cross. “I’m gonna be immortal like you one day. And I'm going to be absolutely divine, next to your ridiculous, fluffy excuse of a beast.”

She scratched his ears, and his head lolled aside until it crushed her hand against the couch. He nuzzled it slightly while she sighed.

“I’m not gonna kiss you at midnight, Tony.”

Tony frowned. “Why?”

“Oh, don’t be a pooch, darling.” Kim squished his face with both hands. “I'm just not that into you!”

“But we’ve been friends for so long…” He scrunched his nose, trying to remember exactly how long they've known each other. Months? A year? “We’ve done everything else, we held hands, we slept on the floor once, we’ve pretty much been flirting since we met-”

“We. Are not. A couple.” Kim smiled like she was consoling an injured animal. “My type of man is a put-together, well-adjusted father figure who can cook, wash the dishes, and help me raise a completely human child.”

Tony didn't know what he did wrong. He honestly felt too confused to even register why best friends couldn't just kiss each other and keep it platonic.

Not that they ever technically tried.

“Please?”

Kim laughed. “Aw, what, you have no one else to ask? Poor baby.”

“What about a high five? At least give me that!”

“A high five?” she scoffed. He could see a flash of mischief in her eyes, which he usually loved to see, but it felt directed at his expense this time. He couldn't tell if she just enjoyed putting him down because she was wasted or if it was genuine.

Tony envied her for never needing validation. They could have the same confidence on stage together, but he always feared the crowd wouldn't treat him the same without her company. He was literally a monster next to her conventionally attractive human self.

They heard someone from the crowd yell “one minute!”, followed by whoops and hollers. Tony raised his palm.

Kim rolled her eyes as she swung to high five him. She missed, and his hand smoothed his hair back.

“Too soon!” he cackled.

She blew a raspberry at him. “Give me your head.”

Tony bent his head forward obediently, and she placed a kiss on his forehead directly over his third eye. She pulled away with a smile.

“That’s all you get.”

-

The clock had only a few minutes left.

Freddie stood behind the bar, hiding from the crowd, which worked in his favor now that everyone was so wasted they couldn't order any more drinks (though a few still certainly tried, and Freddie politely turned them away). He had time to think about Tony’s request.

Truth be told, although Freddie had a bad history with romance, he’d never actually instigated anything before. He’d always been more of the type to drop hints and signals, waiting for the other to take control of the situation and decide whether he was worthwhile. Any skill he had came from following orders.

He had no direction if he was meant to be the one leading the way, and to make matters worse, he could tell Ashton was the opposite. That man had no issue making an entire room on edge just to make them apologize for ruining Freddie’s morning, which he’d never even witnessed. Freddie could lie about anyone and send Ashton on a killing spree.

Maybe Tony was right about Ashton liking him after all.

Freddie could spot Ashton’s golden eye from the crowd, reflecting back like a cat’s. He ducked his head to look at his pocketwatch.

Five minutes.

He took a deep breath and pushed his way through the crowd, stepping on confetti and excusing himself past countless costumed guests. His face brushed past feathers, he could smell thirty perfumes all at once, and the claustrophobia he never realized he had suddenly wouldn't leave him alone.

The only reason he pushed himself to complete Tony’s request was for the Hamlet painting. That’s what he reminded himself, thinking about the value of delicate paint strokes matched with the visual genius of the subject matter, the melancholic grief captured in oils. Tony’s craft from Ashton’s imagination, and Freddie would steal that painting even if it meant faking a possible interest in-

“What are you doing?” Ashton asked, yanking him from being stuck between two masquerade clowns. “They’re about to start the countdown, you don’t wanna be in the crossfire when that happens.”

He started to step away but Freddie planted his shoes, staying put at the edge of the crowd. He looked up in confusion.

“You really wanna stay for this?”

“Yes.” Freddie yanked Ashton forward, which was a struggle since he never seemed to lose his balance. He could feel his heart racing with fear, thinking of so many ways this could go wrong. “Um. So- I’ve never been the one to really initiate anything, but if you- have no obligation to leave-”

Ashton started to look genuinely concerned. “Are you drunk?”

Freddie hesitated. “No.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, really, I-”

“Are you even old enough to drink?” Ashton’s grip moved to his wrist. His voice became more stern, his grip tightening. “You need to be careful around here, alright? Everyone in this building is a criminal.”

“Including you!” Freddie laughed, narrowing his eyes. “Isn't that what makes this job so accessible? I mean the parties, the gambling, the fact that we’re all just having a fun, crazy time-”

“What are you on, Heart? You think this is some kind of sick game we play just to make money?” Ashton threw his hand down. “I’m only here for Tony. You’re only here because you’ve got me looking after your sorry ass whenever you run into traffic.”

“I'm not even doing anything!”

“Then why the hell are you still here?”

Freddie winced. He didn’t know whether the correct answer was ‘I needed a goddamn job’ or ‘Tony told me to kiss you’. He bit his tongue from thinking so hard he thought he’d bleed.

Ashton waited for a response, and when none came, he stepped back. His face fell into blank indifference at best, irritation at worst.

“I don't know what you’ve been through, but please just stay out of trouble. Call me if there's an emergency.” He turned on his heel and walked straight into the crowd.

Freddie followed him. The guilt of failing to Cinderella-story his way out of here was starting to seep in, and he quickly chased Ashton down. It was like he purposefully took a difficult route, weaving through the bodies effortlessly while Freddie struggled to keep up.

He thought about yelling it was an emergency, but he didn't want to scare everyone around them. All he needed to do was grab him before the countdown started.

They went upstairs overlooking the dancefloor, past the lobbies and bathrooms. The people gathered in groups that constantly switched members, crossing paths and trading drinks like there was no tomorrow. Freddie stopped apologizing for bumping them since they stopped acknowledging he was there, too occupied laughing in conversation.

Ashton stopped walking once he left the crowded back door area, making his way outside on the tiny empty balcony where the fireworks would be set off. They were laid out in the parking lot, attached to a timer like a bomb, ticking faintly under the roar of music.

Before Freddie stepped out, he was alone. The air was cold enough to make his breath visible, and he could see smoke coming from Ashton’s head.

As the door closed behind him, the music and cheers were still loud enough to hear from the open windows all over the walls around them. Cigarette ash and splashes of alcohol randomly fell like snow onto the pavement tens of feet below.

Freddie considered confessing Tony’s plan just for honesty’s sake, but he stayed quiet when Ashton looked him directly in the eye. The fake yellow one glowed from his burning tobacco.

“You’re too curious for your own good, aren’t you?” Ashton asked with an inquisitive smile. “What do you want from me?”

Freddie decided to ask the question he already knew the answer to, wanting to see if he’d lie. “I want to know if you’ll ever hurt me, if you’ll ever have to kill me to keep Tony alive.”

He’d been terrified of the possibility since yesterday. He didn't want to be the outlier of a murderous trio, especially if one acted like a cannibal, technical or otherwise.

Ashton kept one hand on the balcony as he faced Freddie head on, judging him for the tenth time. “You’re not a sacrifice, Freddie.”

“How do I know if I become one?”

“You’ll only become my victim if you piss me off.” His glare sent a tremor in his pulse, and Freddie looked away on instinct. “So unless you have any reason for me to dislike you, you don’t have to worry about my betrayal.”

He threw his cigarette on the floor and smashed it, kicking the ashes off the balcony. “And if you’re worried about the opposite, I don’t get attached, either.”

Freddie raised his eyebrows in fake surprise. He could see why Tony had no faith in this guy to pursue a relationship. “You're more of a fighter than a lover, I take it?”

“I'm not the one wearing heart-shaped glasses.”

“Well, it’s easier to be an ally to someone than to genuinely care for them. It’s easier to fear your own death than someone else's.” Freddie wrapped his arms around himself as he shivered. “But being killed isn’t the only reason I’m scared to be here.”

“What else is there to be afraid of?”

“Being isolated.”

The music from the windows amped up several notes.

“THIRTY SECONDS!”

Freddie swallowed, remembering Ashton mentioning he had big eyes. He widened them for no reason. “I’m just nervous because- I want us to fit in with the crowd, y’know? Everyone’s gonna kiss for the New Year.”

Ashton stared back. His tight-lipped expression either meant he was hiding his laughter or his confusion. “This is your way of saying you like me?”

No! “Well, not exactly, I just-” Freddie cycled through his twenty backup plans. “You’ve been really nice to me, in a weird way. I’d just like to repay the favor of kindness with whatever works.”

“You’re either a terrible liar or a really bad hookup artist.” 

“I’m not looking to hookup-”

“I’m a bad kisser.”

“I mean everyone is, at first-”

“Is this a setup?” Ashton blurted out, nearly scoffing at the idea. He looked more hurt than annoyed. “Nobody in their right mind would pick me unless they had something to gain.”

Freddie facepalmed. “Goddammit, Ash, I stole your fucking Hamlet painting, I’m sorry!”

“TWENTY SECONDS!”

Neither of them spoke for three.

“You what?”

“I’m sorry,” Freddie mentally fought himself over whether to give it back or not, finally accepting defeat. He didn't have the energy to keep arguing. “I’ll give it back. I don't know what’s gotten into me.”

That was a lie. He knew exactly why he was acting strange and it all circled back to Tony.

Ashton smirked, reaching out to gently punch his shoulder. “The fact you had the balls to steal from me means you earned it.”

Freddie blinked. “Wait, really? You're letting me-”

“It's my fault I didn't even realize it was gone. I was too focused on assuming you couldn’t handle yourself at all.” Ashton tilted his head, letting strands of his hair sway with him. “You actually could make a pretty good thief. Maybe I judged you too harshly.”

“TEN!”

“Ashton-”

“NINE!”

“Can I kiss you?”

“EIGHT!”

“Should I close my eyes?”

“SEVEN!”

“Yes.”

“SIX!”

“Count of five.”

“FIVE!”

Freddie exhaled, tunneling his focus until everyone around him became a mindless blur. It was just him and Ashton standing on the balcony, the only two people who belonged there.

He'd never had the fantasy of a New Year's Eve kiss, he'd never known it was a thing, but he also never expected to be at a party where kissing in public was encouraged. He knew matching them would make him feel like he was finally part of something, where he wouldn't stand out like a wallflower.

When Ashton closed his eyes, Freddie briefly considered backing out and returning the painting, packing his things and leaving the casino in humiliation at his own cowardice. He’d thought about the risks hours ago, and shoved his fears down by reminding himself of Ashton’s assumption that a man like Freddie couldn't last in a place like this.

He had to prove him wrong. He had to be more daring, more unpredictable, which was why he kissed him a second too early.

“ONE!”

Chapter Text

“It’s the year of the rat,” Tony said, shuffling a deck of cards at his coffee table in the Club room. He decided to host a ‘slumber party’ while the casino closed for the night, and after they spent all morning cleaning up the party mess, they lounged around his leather furniture in their pajamas.

Tony turned his nose to Freddie, sitting curled up in his red flannel. “What's your zodiac, mate?”

Freddie shrugged. “1951?”

Kim hung up the new Rat calendar, glancing at the animal zodiac tapestry next to it. “That makes you a rabbit.”

Tony clicked his tongue, pointing a finger gun at Ashton, who sprawled himself across the loveseat. “Tiger.”

“Dog.” Ashton responded.

Kim swung her arm dramatically. “Snake. Though you’d never guess it from how young I look.”

“How old are you?” Tony asked, uncaring that she glared back.

“Rude.” She turned to Freddie. “Guess my age.”

He looked very uncomfortable with guessing, more interested in his pocketwatch. “Um… twenty-five?”

“I turn thirty-one this year.”

Ashton laughed with smoke leaving his lungs. “That's old.”

Freddie whacked his shoulder. “For the record, Kim, I don't think your age is a problem. You're the head of the operation, right?”

“Correct.” Kim pointed her fingernail at each of them. “Club, my second-in-command, Heart, my third, and Spade, my-”

“Third?”

“You know what I mean.” Kim snatched a champagne bottle from the ice bucket, pouring its golden liquid into a coffee mug. She sighed, rolling her neck. It cracked loudly.

Tony gaped. “Are you okay?”

Kim felt her neck. Her eye twitched. She blinked repeatedly and straightened her posture with a smile. “My curfew. Time for sleeping pills.”

-

Kim had never gone to the doctor in her life.

She had nothing against the idea, personally, but growing up with private tutors and a maid who cared for her fever was the most healthcare she received. Once her insomnia started to become an issue in her teen years, her parents had her drink ‘sleeping tea’ every night before bed. She became addicted to it within weeks.

Without her tea, she’d start having sleep paralysis, watching shadows on her wall move toward her. She never told the others the details of why she had a strict routine, only saying she’d done it for years, and breaking the cycle could cause her to become the worst version of herself.

She brewed her tea in the kitchen, adding honey to stir with a silver spoon she kept in her purse. They weren't allowed to keep silver lying around the casino since Tony was allergic to it and would burn himself on contact. Most items they had were gold or iron, but Kim’s spoon had been with her since before they met.

Usually she would cut her time with him and Ashton to spend it alone, sleeping early so she could wake up early before them. As the only woman in the trio, she sometimes found their late night selves mildly annoying and unrelatable.

Freddie, however, she had a completely different impression of. He hadn’t been corrupted with sin like the others yet, and if he had, he hid it exceptionally well. Kim recognized the way he held himself like a reluctant church follower; his head low, his hesitation to have any pride in his achievements. She could remember sitting in the cold church pews in her childhood just by looking at him.

Someone like that might need sleeping tea, too, she thought. She had an extra packet, why not extend a hand to another retired follower? He was only a rabbit, after all.

-

Kim brought two steaming tea cups back to the Club room, smiling as she sat next to Freddie. She offered him one cradled on a saucer, and he took it carefully.

“Thanks?”

“Sleeping tea.” Kim yawned after a sip. She waved for him to try it. “Not too hot.”

“Ay, cheers,” Tony lifted his coca-cola bottle to them before gulping it down.

Freddie sipped it, identifying lavender mixed in. He could see Kim staring at him from the corner of his eye, and when he turned, she closed her eyes and yawned again.

“Isn’t it ironic that you’re a rabbit? They’re known for their weak hearts.”

Tony laughed. “They’re known to reproduce like crazy, too-”

“Hey, I didn't even know my zodiac before today!” Freddie said defensively. “How important is it, anyway?”

“No reason. We just like its existence.” Ashton pulled out a butterfly knife to flip around, lying on his back to face the ceiling.

Kim curled into a giant club-shaped pillow with her head bumping Freddie’s shoulder. After he drank the whole cup, he reclined with her, letting the drowsiness take over them at the same time.

Tony watched them snore quietly. He whistled to Ashton. “Hey, Tiger, do you think she’s gonna try turning him into a playboy bunny?”

Ashton sat up abruptly. “What?” He hissed, quiet enough to let them sleep.

“Oh yeah, definitely. I know we don’t even have bunnies but I’m sure there’s a costume lying around somewhere-”

“Ridiculousness aside, he has absolutely no credentials to perform in a costume.” Ashton held his palm out, as if giving an English lecture, which he did with Tony pretty often. “Heels? Machines? He’d get a heart attack even knowing the option’s there-”

“Ohohoho, someone’s protective!”

“Shut up, Tony-”

“Did he kiss you at midnight?”

Ashton hesitated. He slowly turned his fake eye to scan Tony’s face, that grinned back unflinching. “How did you know about that?”

Tony cocked his head. “Ah, well, he told me. Said he thought you looked lonely, and probably the only person in the whole building who’s never been kissed. Real sweet guy, he is.”

Ashton snapped his fingers. “Sweet. That’s the word. That’s what makes him stand out, and not in a good way-”

“Just admit that you like him! Shit, I like him too! There’s no way we’re throwing him back on the street now.”

“There’s no way I’m letting Kim put him in a bunny suit.” Ashton didn't even know why he was so pissed off, but he and Freddie barely spoke after the party. There wasn't so much awkward tension as there was no acknowledgement of the kiss at all.

Ashton assumed Freddie must’ve been some kind of homewrecker in his past, accidental or otherwise. He was all too comfortable kissing someone after knowing him for two days, and his skill in the act was too delicate to forget. Ashton would probably never kiss someone again in case it didn't live up to that one small moment.

That being said, Tony could sniff out jealousy like cocaine.

“You’re jealous, Tiger-”

“There’s no one to be jealous of.”

“Uh, Kim, obviously.” Tony pointed to their sleeping bodies, only touching from Kim’s forehead to Freddie’s arm. “Guy who plays the Heart role is a literal rabbit, and Kim the snake could eat him alive? I mean for fuck’s sake, we all could if we wanted to.”

“I’m not a cannibal.”

“Technically, neither am I.”

Ashton sighed, needing to change the subject to a different concern he had. “Look, Tony, let’s get one thing straight-”

“We’re best friends?”

“Best friends don’t lie to each other.”

Tony faltered, twitching his ear. “Right. Yeah. Lying would be breaking the best friend code.”

Ashton dragged his hands down his face. He peeked over at Freddie, with his heart glasses pushed up into his curly hair, knocked out cold from Kim’s suspiciously powerful medication. “Tell me something, Tony, and don’t lie to me if you know the truth.”

Tony lost the ability to sweat after his reincarnation, and now his fur spiked up as saliva pooled in his mouth. His thundered in his ribcage like a breaking drumset. “Yeah, mate, of course.”

“Do you think…” Ashton never said it out loud before, the words felt too wrong to say aloud. “Do you think Kim would ever leave the casino?”

“Uh. Huh.” Tony blinked. “No, I never really thought about it, why?”

“I mean she’s been wanting to ‘find the right guy’ for a while, and as much as she loves partying, it’s really not good for her health. I’m pretty sure she’s just hoping to become immortal someday so she won’t have to worry about growing old.” Ashton tucked his butterfly knife back in his breast pocket. “As her two friends, we should both agree to point her in the right direction, instead of just encouraging her to do what every other alcoholic gets up to at her age. When it comes to responsibility, you are the absolute worst at it.”

“Are you calling me a bad influence?”

“One hundred percent.”

Tony chuckled as he finished off his soda. “Buddy, you focus on keeping your spades to yourself and I won’t let Kim steal Freddie from you, eh? Let’s shake on it.”

“No. We should go to bed.” Ashton flicked the lamp off to use his infrared to source a sleeping spot. Kim and Freddie’s heat sources were curled like hurricane patterns, while Tony’s glowed magenta on the psychiatrist chair. He stumbled through the dark onto a pile of extra blankets, stolen from the other three rooms, and bent his arm under his head with his eyes closed.

-

Freddie was having a nightmare, and he was fully conscious of it.

It was like he couldn’t force himself to wake up, trapped in a small room with only one door between the close-quartered four walls. He was stuck sitting on a chair, but he couldn’t tell what was restraining him, and the ceiling only had a powered off lamp dangling a foot over his head.

The door in front of him had gaps like a closet, and he could hear faint murmuring from a deep voice on the other side. A man in prayer, he guessed, and when Freddie opened his mouth to shout for help, his tongue caught on fabric he didn't realize was shutting him up. It pulled around his head into a tight knot behind him while his jaws closed around it uselessly.

He didn’t know how he got here, but he had to assume the man outside his door was the reason he was captured. His suspicions were confirmed when a firm hand yanked the door open, and he looked up into the eyes of someone he’d been running from for weeks.

Freddie banned his name from his mind, but his face stayed like a brand against his skull. Hair combed neatly like his father, posture relaxed like someone you thought you could trust with anything. He smiled down at him in a way that made his insides crawl with anticipation, and Freddie moved his gaze to the new room he had to escape from.

The closet was in the back of the church, the room only holding a shrine of someone he’d never seen before, and a broom leaning against the wall. A closed door on the right was the only exit.

“You must be exhausted,” the abductor said calmly. He hooked a finger into the gag, pulling it down gently as Freddie sputtered. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Freddie coughed, forcing a polite smile back. “I’m dreaming, aren't I?”

“Correct.” The man hummed as his finger traced Freddie’s head, drawing a line where lobotomies would be cut. “And since you’re living the dream, what are you craving? You can manifest whatever your heart desires, as long as you’re here.”

Before Freddie even knew what his heart desired, the door opened, and Ashton poked his head inside.

“Freddie, get up and get ready for work, you're running late.” He left as soon as he came.

“Ash, help me!”

Freddie thrashed in his seat, only to be pinned down by his abductor’s hands on his shoulders. He shut his eyes as ice flooded his veins, his breathing turned into frantic gasps for air before the gag was pulled back into his mouth.

“Calm down, calm down, don’t listen to him. You don’t have to work today.” Freddie felt his thumb wipe away saliva from the corner of his mouth as he hummed. “You’re asleep. You won’t wake up until the drug wears off.”

Freddie warbled something in disbelief, but by the time he opened his eyes again, his chair was shoved backward, slamming his head against the floor. The force of it knocked his teeth together, his bound hands barely catching the fall, but no amount of wincing and shaking brought him to wake up.

Dress shoes stepped next to his head, and he looked up as the man squatted down to see him eye-to-eye. His eyes were warm brown like chestnuts, which was one of the details Freddie couldn't erase from his mind if he tried.

“You’re probably wondering why this is the first vivid dream you’ve ever had of me.” The man smirked, clearly amused of his own existence. “Well, whether I’m the ghost of your past or a manifestation of your medicated subconscious is anyone’s guess. All I know is that you remember being terrified of me.”

He lifted a hand to brush his hair back but Freddie flinched. The scared laugh reverberating his trembling body came out like cries for help.

“What are you even scared of? If I hurt you, you know it’s not real.” He grabbed a fistful of Freddie’s hair, turning and dragging him by the head out the door. The chair screeched against the floor, louder than his muffled whimpers.

He looked up at the shrine, a man cut from marble wearing only a giant cloth covering most of his body like a blanket. If he had to guess, it was supposed to be someone’s rendition of God, taken place directly after human life was created.

His chair was uprighted directly in front of it, with one hand still tangled in his hair while the other forced his chin up. If he wasn’t still tied to the chair, it would’ve felt like he was back home, still in church long after everyone else had left.

“If you want,” the voice whispered directly next to his ear, “I can untie you, and you can kneel instead. This was all just a precaution to keep you from running away.”

Freddie glanced at the open door. He hated kneeling, but he could probably escape as soon as the ropes were removed, so he nodded. The hands around his head slipped away to set him free.

He shakily stood from the chair, dropped to one knee, and ran. Angry shouts followed him down the halls as he sped past empty wooden corridors, stained glass windows barely visible from the dark night sky. He yanked the gag from his mouth and tossed it behind him, and from the running steps catching up to his speed, he knew he was out of time.

Before he reached the double doors at the end, he was tackled, his chin hitting the floor so hard he saw white sparks flash over his eyes.

He knew he couldn't make it, he knew the body caging him to the floor wouldn't let up, and every attempt he made to throw him off only wasted his energy. He turned his head aside to press his ear to the floor, kicking uselessly while a sigh of disappointment brushed his cheek.

The man clicked his tongue. “You know you’ll have to come back someday, Freddie.” His torso squished against Freddie’s back, and instead of grabbing his wrists, he calmly held them with his thumbs brushing up and down his open palms. “I mean, really, you left us to work at a casino? Don’t you see how wrong that is?”

Freddie shuddered and willed himself to stay still. “Get off of me. Please.”

“You’re only having this dream because of your own recklessness. If you wanted to be safe, properly cared for-”

“I left because I was suffocating!”

His vision went white. A high-pitch started ringing in his ears. He squinted as his senses blurred, distant voices growing closer and more distinct, like he was floating to the water’s surface until he broke the surface with a pop.

“Another fun fact about rabbits,” Tony was saying, “is that they eat their own shit.”

Kim slapped him, hard. “He’s awake!”

Ashton peered over Freddie’s eyes like a surgeon. “Close your mouth.”

Freddie shut it, feeling drool on his chin again. His throat was dry, and after realizing his tongue still worked, he asked “how long was I out?”

“One hour.”

“In addition to eight o’clock.” Tony clarified. “So. Not fatal.”

Kim shushed them and rushed to his side, suddenly grabbing his hand. “Darling, I’m so sorry you’re allergic to the tea. I’ll make sure you never come near it again.”

“It’s fine, really-”

“That nightmare looked really bad.”

Freddie stared at Tony. “Wha- what did you just say?”

“I saw the whole thing.” Tony raised his hands as Kim and Ashton swiveled toward him. “Hey, I ain’t sharing that!”

Kim rolled her eyes and hoisted Freddie up, urging him out of bed and into a pair of white bunny slippers. “C’mon, I haven’t eaten breakfast all morning. Walk with me.”

Chapter Text

Every Sunday the casino stayed closed, which surprised Freddie because none of them were religious. Instead, Ashton explained they liked to take the day off doing fun things like restaurants, grocery shopping, movie theaters, and the occasional criminal heist if they’d planned one in advance. After witnessing his reaction to Kim’s sleeping tea, they collectively decided today would be a ‘take it easy’ day, which just meant a long drive away from the city to a mysterious location they wanted to be a surprise.

They all dressed for a one-day vacation, Tony without his sunglasses in a Hawaiian shirt with flowers, Kim in a casual purple dress, Ashton in a leather jacket, and Freddie picked out a band T-shirt and jeans from the Spade wardrobe. None of them looked like they were going to the same place.

Kim volunteered to drive, Ashton navigating with an unfolded map, and Tony sat with Freddie in the back with a picnic basket of snacks. The car (Ashton’s electric blue Chevrolet Camaro) sped past the crowded main roads in favor of the empty countryside, and Freddie patiently waited to see cows out his window.

Once Kim and Ashton finally agreed on the song Hello, Goodbye and started singing along, Tony elbowed Freddie in the ribs.

“Ow, what?”

“Psst.” Tony flicked his tail as he whispered. “Who was that guy? In your nightmare?”

Freddie paled, losing all the progress he was making trying to forget it. “Just… someone from my hometown.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, but I also have no idea what the secret is.” Tony reached in the basket and pulled out a bone-shaped dog treat, munching it like a cookie. “Tell ya what: I’ll tell you one of my deepest secrets as a trade, eh?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“Now I may not remember my past life before I was reincarnated, but I’ve had vivid dreams of what might’ve happened. Before I looked like this, I used to be a father.”

Freddie winced. “Okay?”

“I had a wife, and a baby.” Tony frowned. “They were murdered, and I’m pretty sure I killed myself.”

“Oh.” Freddie could sense genuine sadness in his voice, which was so far removed from how chipper he’d been only seconds ago. “I’m sorry, that’s horrible-”

“Hey, I don’t know any other details.” Tony smiled again, but it didn't reach his eyes. “Whatever happened to you’s probably worse since you still remember it vividly, eh?”

Freddie curled his fists on his knees, the same habit he had when sitting in confession. “Well. Okay, but you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone about my nightmares.”

Tony gaped. “Plural? Geez.”

“I mean it, Tony.”

“Right, right, right, keep my trap shut, lie if interrogated. Gotcha covered.”

Freddie sighed. “Thank you.” He hesitated again, composing himself even though he knew he might start crying anyway. “Before I start, do you happen to have a pair of sunglasses I can borrow?”

Tony didn't ask why, only handing him a sleek pair of aviator sunglasses. “Even stylish people have their sad times, mate.”

“Thanks. Okay-” He took off his heart glasses to switch. “The man you saw used to be my… best friend. I told him everything, my deepest fears, my biggest secrets, and he’d comfort me when no one else did. He taught me how to paint, he helped me with homework, y’know, stuff like that. He meant the world to me.”

He sniffed. “I knew him for years, and I spent most of that time with him. I left my family for him, and even though my nightmare made him look like he kidnapped me, the truth is that I went willingly. I just regretted it afterwards, and that was when he wouldn't let me leave. He wasn’t the same anymore, once he knew I’d devoted myself to the church completely.”

He took a shuddering breath before continuing, “he used to be so kind to me. I often think he’s the reason I try to be so kind to others, because he used to say it’s ‘rewarding’. But once I realized he'd been lying to me about who he was, about his powers, his identity, I-”

“Powers?”

“He-” Freddie choked, not knowing how to explain. He’d never thought he’d get this far. “To this day, I’m not sure what about our relationship was real, and what he fabricated. All I know is he told me he had the power to be possessed by God, and I believed him.”

Tony was dumbfounded. “What did he look like when he was possessed?”

“His eyes went white.”

Tony nodded, deep in thought. “Were his eyes white when he attacked you? In real life?”

“Every time.”

Tony patted his shoulder, and Freddie shoved the basket aside to pull him into a hug. He pushed his glasses up with misty eyes and buried his face in Tony’s fuzzy neck.

“I could’ve stayed- could’ve seen it through, let him explain everything, but- he almost broke my skull once. I left before I could find out more, because I wasn't sure how much longer I had to live.”

“Aw, mate, that sounds terrible.” Tony was glad Kim and Ashton were too distracted to notice as he pulled Freddie from his seatbelt, holding him gently. “You must hate God now.”

“No, I- I don’t even know if that was him.”

“Well, down here at the casino, we don’t fuck with God anyway.” Tony winked down at him. “If that bitch can sit in heaven while people read old books and start cults, he can kiss my ass.”

Freddie laughed, and he immediately felt guilty for it. “You guys are insane.”

-

Kim had miraculous luck when it came to parallel parking without even trying. They pulled into the nearly full lot of the biggest mall Freddie had ever seen. He had to switch his heart glasses back on just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, reading the silver letters of The Armoire Mall.

“This is a real place?”

Kim hummed proudly. “The one and only.”

“What are we here for?”

“To get you some new clothes.” 

The group pushed past glass doors, walking onto the first floor of a crowded hallway. Families carrying branded bags, couples roller skating past with ice cream cones, children scrambling over each other just to press their faces up to glass displays; the rich, the poor, everyone found something interesting at the Armoire Mall.

It was only called that because of the decorated suits of armor at the very center. Statues of four knights on horses poised together like guards, often rumored to be living robots when the mall closed.

Freddie could see the glint in the horse’s eye as he walked under it, guessing it had to be at least ten feet tall. He was so distracted he let Ashton pull his wrist into a clothing store.

Ashton cleared his throat, letting go to present the cowboy mannequin before them. “Allow us to introduce you to the concept of alter egos, another thing we all have in common.”

Tony posed next to it, stealing the hat to put on his own head at a crooked angle. “Howdy, stranger, I reckon yain’t been around these parts.”

Kim shoved him aside, pulling Freddie to a different mannequin dressed in a suit of armor. “My alter ego is a knight. I have one just like this except my chain mail is dyed red, and I wear a black wig to hide my identity better.”

“Why do you guys have alter egos?”

“Various reasons.” Ashton said. “Although it’s usually just disguises for places we’re banned from.”

“But now it’s your turn!”

Freddie swiveled his gaze past costumes upon costumes, all elaborate designs with price tags scaling higher than he could afford under normal circumstances. Tony continued rambling about his cowboy alter with a lasso on his hip, and how Kim’s knight alter often duels him with a sword.

“Whatever you choose can come with any weapon you want.”

Freddie shook his head. “I don't need a weapon. A prop, maybe, just to complete the look.” He waved his hands out at a futuristic astronaut costume, like a child seeing a dinosaur statue for the first time. “This reminds me of when I used to dream of being abducted by aliens.”

Kim got distracted by a gothic witch costume. “Ooh, if I ever needed a second alter ego, I’d be a witch.”

“You know you can wear a costume without needing an alter, right?”

“What’s the fun in that? I’m multi-faceted. Like a diamond.”

Tony cackled as he poked a werewolf costume. “This fake fur is horrible, it’s not even oily at all!”

Freddie noticed Ashton lingering in front of a family of mannequins, costumes ranging from a viking to a vampire to a detective. After having known him for three days, he felt comfortable enough to nudge him out of stoic silence. “What’s your alter ego, Ash?”

Ashton looked at him, tried not to smile until he rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Don’t laugh like the other two did.”

“It’s not my position to judge. I’m a mere observer.”

“Fine. My alter’s a farmer.” Ashton pretended to tip an imaginary straw hat. “I wield a scythe to cut wheat, and any idiot trespassers.”

Freddie tried to picture Ashton in overalls before wiping the image from his head. “Is there… a reason you wanna be a farmer?”

Ashton sighed wistfully, and for a second Freddie couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or not. “Living next to a wheat field, watching the sunrise every morning when I wake up early to start on the firewood, before lighting the chimney of my peaceful brick house in the middle of nowhere- I wouldn't even need a vacation if I didn't have a job. It’s more of a lifestyle thing.”

“Hm.”

“What did you used to see yourself doing at your age?”

Freddie sorted through the costumes hanging in the clearance section, past a wizard robe, a doctor’s coat, and a demon costume until he found what he was looking for. He tried not to smile too wide at the discovery before holding the cassock under his neck to show Ashton. “Think it’ll fit me?”

“A priest?” Ashton blurted out incredulously. “You're not just gonna wear that because it’s Sunday, are you?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Freddie admitted, a somber look passing his face before he shook it away. “I used to be an acolyte. I didn't like it, but that's just because I was stuck at the bottom. My goal used to be getting the title of ‘Father’ officially.” He took the cassock off its hanger, surprised at how realistic it felt despite being at the back of a costume store, and excitedly took it to the dressing rooms.

Kim swiveled her head to Ashton, clearly having eavesdropped part of the conversation. “Did he say he wants to be a father?”

“No, he just wants to be called one. Priests can't have kids.”

Tony poked his head over Kim’s. “What’s his prop gonna be, a bible?”

They impatiently waited for Freddie to finish changing, trying to pass the time thinking of how they’d look together out on the town. Tony convinced them that seeing a cowboy, a knight, a farmer and a priest walking into a bar would look like someone’s terrible imitation of a Dungeons & Dragons game.

“Alternatively,” he continued, flicking his ears back as Freddie’s door unlocked. “We’d be a rogue, a paladin, a bard and a cleric.”

“Who the hell is the bard-”

Before Freddie could step out, Kim hollered “did you put on the sock garters?”

“Yes- of course I did.”

As simple as his costume was, they couldn’t deny how well it suited him. He tried to fix his hair in the mirror until he was satisfied, turning back to the others with a sheepish smile. “This is illegal, isn’t it? Pretending to be a real priest?”

Tony laughed. “I have no idea, but I support it!”

“You need shoes.” Kim pointed out, taking a shoebox off the shelf. After handing them over, she ripped the tag off the back of the cassock's neck. “Now this can be a real crime.”