Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bloom’s first practice with the Lazies and New Jacks went about as much as he expected. Suddenly arriving and immediately being declared as the new Second Ace didn’t really endear him to most of them who’ve been in the club for longer but was never given the same opportunity.

Thankfully, he already knew most of the parts he was expected to perform aside from his solo so it wasn’t that hard for him to catch up. It gave him the added bonus of impressing everyone with how fast it seemed for him to learn the songs and choreography. Of course, that wasn’t completely true but it’s not like he was going to tell them that he pretty much memorized the routine after watching everyone from the shadows as a Mystic.

He refused Deep’s invitation to eat and drink after rehearsal, saying he still needed to practice his song. He almost gave in when the other kept whining but he managed to escape by promising to join him next time. As much as he cared for Jr—well, Deep now—he wasn’t willing to drag his drunken ass afterwards two nights in a row. Besides, he really needed to prove himself to the other members so he had to practice more.

He went through his song part by part, making sure to get all the notes right. Then he repeatedly sang the song, barely resting until he could sing it completely without looking at the score sheet.

By then, he was starting to feel tired, his throat protesting the fact that he was not used to singing consecutively. The next time he sang, he missed a note and wondered if he should rest already. The decision was taken out of his hands when the instrumental record stopped abruptly.

“I believe part of being a good performer is knowing one’s own limits.”

Bloom froze at the sound of a very familiar voice. He’d been dreading meeting its owner again after everything. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to hide his old identity, not from his now-former partner.

“I’m sure you wish to do well for your first performance but your efforts will be for naught if you do not rest.”

As he heard footsteps approaching him, Bloom slowly turned around with a nervous laugh. “You’re right. Thank you…?”

“Starting with the letter ‘Q’, my name is just that, Q. I’m part of Mystic, which I’m sure you’ve heard of by now. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the other introduced with a bow.

“Uh, yeah, I did…I’m Bloom,” he returned somewhat lamely with his own bow. “Nice to meet you too.”

Q straightened and Bloom finally caught sight of that smile he didn’t realize he’d missed, scary as it was at this moment. “I apologize for not welcoming you immediately. I’m afraid I was attending to other duties.”

The new Lazy shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m sure they were more important than greeting me. Thank you anyway.”

He fought the urge to fidget when Q merely stared at him for a moment. Then, the Mystic raised his hand and snapped his fingers, startling him. Other Mystics wearing black half aprons suddenly came in, the first two carrying a wooden table and another with a cushioned chair. They placed the table and chair beside Bloom. Another couple came in and set up a dinner for one on it, along with a tea service. Q pulled out the chair for him.

“Please sit, Bloom-san,” he said, clearly expecting to be obeyed. Momentarily surprised by his old partner calling him by his new name, the Second Ace did as asked. Q placed a napkin on his lap then poured out hot tea into the cup and dropped a couple of slices of lemon into it. He handed it to the Lazy, adding, “Drink this first to soothe your throat. It won’t do for you to lose your voice before your first show.”

Bloom stared at him, overwhelmed from the sudden treatment. Q’s smile and tone as he spoke was cold but the cup in his hands was warm, and so was the food set in front of him. The plates were full of his favorites…8’s favorites.

He knew 9—Q—probably resented him for leaving. He could sense it. But he also knew that he still had his partner’s support. He was thankful for it. It gave him hope that, perhaps one day, he could get his forgiveness as well, as much as he didn't deserve it.

“Thank you,” he said with an expression he hoped conveyed I’m sorry and I miss you at the same time. He almost sagged in his chair in relief when Q’s smile turned warm, momentarily as it was.

“Mystics take care of their own.” Q’s voice was almost fond for a second before turning icy again right after. “Please drink the tea and eat your dinner before they get cold. We have a warm bath drawn up for you after.”

“Will you wash my back for me?” Bloom chanced a (not) joke.

“No,” Q immediately denied. “There is a back scrubber in the bathroom that you may use.”

The Second Ace shrugged. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”

“Please don’t try it again, Bloom-san.”

As Bloom chuckled and drank the tea, he heard a whisper of, “Welcome home,” to which he replied in kind, “I’m home.”

Chapter Text

As regular performers, it wasn't that unusual to get injured. Everyone experienced it at one point.

Even Bloom, who seemed to be one of the best Lazies so far, was no exception.

They were practicing the group dance when one of the New Jacks made a mistake and ended up bumping into him while he was in mid-step. He was unable to stop himself from falling and twisting his right ankle and hitting his head on something hard.

Pain suddenly took over. He couldn't understand why there was suddenly chaos around him, why he kept hearing apologies from Hop, why Cool Beans was panicking, why Deep was calling for help, why everything looked blurry. He could only feel the pain.

Is he dying from hitting his head? Will he finally be able to meet a ghost? Will he go to heaven—

"Please calm yourself, Bloom-san, you are not going to die."

9 was here. 9 wouldn't let him go to heaven, not yet. 9 said he still had duties to do.

"The doctor will be able to fix you up, but I have to move you to the infirmary. It will be uncomfortable but you must stay awake. We do not know if you have a concussion or not."

Was he imagining it or did 9's voice just tremble?

"Focus, Bloom-san. Try not to close your eyes."

Oh, right, he was Bloom now, not 8. And 9 was Q. And nah, Q's voice was steady. He almost wished it weren't. Where was the concern for his partner? Oh, right, it was former partner now.

Strong hands lifted him from the ground. He instinctively clung onto the dark blur that carried him.

"You'll be fine, Bloom-san," Q's voice came from his carrier, not even sounding like he had difficulties carrying the Second Ace. "Stay awake—please don't use my chest as your pillow."

"But s'comfy," he managed to mumble, trying to ignore the trickle of something wet from the back of his head. He felt more than heard, the sigh (of relief? exasperation?) from the Mystic.

"That is no excuse to be lazy," Q retorted as he walked briskly.

"'M a Lazy," he said back.

"That you are, Bloom-san. We are here."

He was carefully laid down on a bed and he immediately missed the other's warmth and comforting presence. But he didn't have time to dwell on it before their doctor approached and started treating him.

It didn't take long. The doctor was no ordinary healer after all. Soon enough, the pain was completely gone and his head felt clear. His leg felt normal and there was only a bit of weakness remaining.

He blinked as steady hands helped him to a seated position. Q was still there, assisting him instead of the other Mystics hovering nearby. It made him smile.

"Thank you," he said to his former partner sincerely.

And Q, with his eyes shining with relief only 8 could read and blood drying on his vest, flashed him his own smile and responded, "You're welcome."