#2.4k

And you loved it just as much. Kurt was actually a sweet hugger. He always tried to swallow you whole in his happy hugs back, and you ate it up every time. Being held by Kurt, watching him smile as you held him, it really made everything feel right. Like one day soon, you two could do that without worrying the other didn’t think of your too short touches, the way they did. At least those touches were lasting longer, and happening more.

You’d even held Kurt’s hand two days ago! Granted it was to point something out Kurt still couldn’t see from your own aimed finger, so you’d grasped his in yours to point that way. He’d apparently seen it then, he had stammered. But feeling a little riskier, you smiled, and as you dropped your hands, you didn’t let go. You instead shifted to actually hold his hand, smiling at him once more as you continued to swing it in yours for the rest of the five minute walk to the store you were both heading for.

Kurt’s hand had gotten seriously clammy in that time, but you didn’t really mind. You liked when he held your hand back. Granted, about thirty seconds in. And it took him a minute to fully commit to it, holding your hand solidly, but gently, in his Kurt fashion, eventually as he walked you down the mall strip.

But today was a first. You and Kurt kept complaining that you just missed the simple things! Kurt thoroughly agreed and added to the conversation, even though both of you knew he couldn’t ‘miss’ some of these things that he’d never even experienced before.

“Man I just miss cuddling.” You complained, pouting a little at your best friend who, hyped as ever, agreed loudly.

“Yeah! I wanna cuddle someone!”

This sparked an idea in your mind. It had been something you’d thought about much before, but with an opening right in front of you, your mind exploded with the opportunity to take it. “We could cuddle!” You suggested, sounding much more natural than your banging heart made you feel.

You smiled good naturedly at Kurt, and while his smile dipped a bit, it came back, lightheartedly. He laughed a little. But then you confidently took a step closer, in his tidy room, nudging his hand with the back of yours. “No I mean it. We could cuddle right now. If you want?”

Kurt froze up. Staring in the space he was looking before, until his eyes darted closer to your body, but not directly in your eyes, blinking madly.

“I-I mean if you want. You don’t have to or anything.” You quickly followed up with, beginning to feel your heart sinking. But you were quickly interrupted by him.

“No! No, I-I-“ Kurt was really unsure about the thought at first. Not because he didn’t want to, God... did he want to lay down and cuddle with you so badly. But because he thought he was going to be awkward, or bad at it, or fuck it up somehow, like he always does. He took in an open mouthed breath, his gaze darting down to your feet, before looking into your eyes again. His own brown ones uncertain, eyebrows furrowed, in what you still thought was cute. “I mean, are you sure you wanna?”

“Yeah, course! That’s why I offered, right?” You felt yourself bouncing on your toes a little now, giddy that this was actually happening. “Besides, friends can cuddle!”

“Y-Yeah. Friends can... do that.” Kurt still seemed a bit unsure, but he offered you a small smile, under his slightly hooded head. Looking down at where Kurt was smiling into the carpet, you saw his own feet shuffling alongside yours.

Kurt extended one arm, unsure how this was going to go. But then you sat down on his mattress on the floor, and Kurt quickly followed suit. Oh you reallly meant cuddling. Kurt felt his breath starting to get a little hotter as he clumsily made his way onto the bed, beside you.

You began to lay down, turning on your side to face Kurt, and he moved just like you. Tucking his sheets to the side so you didn’t get tangled up in them. Maybe later you’d want the blanket, or something though. To share. Kurt didn’t know!

Taking a steadying breath he wasn’t even consciously aware of, Kurt lifted his arm to wrap it above your head. Shuffling down on the mattress, when you did something that made his heart stop. You leant on his chest.

You moved so your body was tucked into Kurt. Your head resting on his chest, endearingly gazing up at him. Your hand also placed on his torso, your knee nudged under his, as you began to quietly sigh. Getting comfier and comfier.

God Kurt was warm. And actually pretty soft. You knew his skin was, and you knew Kurt moisturised, but he had a really nice body to lay on. Not that you were thinking about that in other ways! Right now, you just felt good, home, somehow, as you rested yourself on top of Kurt. Who you really did love.

Apparently, Kurt was not finding it as restful.

Kurt started panicking. You could feel his chest moving under your head, literally moving your own head, and when you looked back up at him, the fact he was a little shook was clear on his face.

You immediately lifted your head. Slowly stroking over his chest soothingly, getting him to look into your calm eyes to hopefully help his concerned ones. “Hey. It’s okay. We’re just cuddling.” You repeated, voice gentle and grounding, as well as your repeated strokes. You gave a small smile, and Kurt relaxed a little. His chest deflating again. Although Kurt couldn’t quite pick up the courage to hold your hand as he got better. He wished, though.

“Hey, you wanna try this instead?” You asked, piquing Kurt’s attention, with his curious eyes.

You got off of him, still remaining on the bed though, shimmying to lie flat on your back by his side. You’d decided to ask first, then move, in case Kurt thought he was doing it wrong or something, and you kept your eased state the entire time.

Kurt watched you eagerly, wondering what your new plan was. He really did wanna keep cuddling with you! He swore he would do it right. He really liked having you lie on top of him a little like that, he hoped you could do it again soon, and he could stroke his hand through your hair, or something. Hold you, and keep you safe, in his arms. Just like a boyfriend would. Like Kurt would do, as a boyfriend, your boyfriend. If given the chance. And Kurt’s brain nearly exploded, when you finally lay down, and patted your own middle.

Kurt was a bit more cautious about this one.

He started moving his body, sitting up a little to reach you. But then he realised where his head was heading, and as he looked to your stomach, then your chest, quickly averting up to your eyes, then straight at a random spot on his bed, he asked what he needed to know, to get this right. “Uhh... Where should I lay- put my head?” You tapped your middle, just under your... your chest. Surely that meant what Kurt thought it did.

You didn’t even shrug, you just answered perfectly normally. “On my chest.”

But you could tell these steps needed some extra assurance from you for Kurt, and you knew he was worried about overstepping boundaries or scaring you away. You lay down your hand, gently resting your pinky on top of his, splayed on his mattress. “It’s okay Kurt, I promise. It’s just cuddling.”

Kurt nodded at your encouraging words, and you made yourself comfortable as he shimmied down, and finally, rested his head on top of your chest.

Very lightly at first. You laughed in a short breath through your nose, wrapping your arm around Kurt’s chest, and feeling your skin tingling happily there as Kurt held your arm in his still clammy, but grippy, hands. “It’s okay Kurt. You’re not gonna crush me. I want you to cuddle me properly, and be comfortable and stuff.” You smiled down at him.

Immediately as you were giving your okay, Kurt started to lay on you properly. His head fell into your chest, and his body sank with what looked like him finally relaxing. For once in his life. Between his influencer career, and spreeing, Kurt was usually up and roaring, even without any passionate energy behind him sometimes.

Once you started stroking through his hair, you felt Kurt really relaxing. He sighed, almost dreamily, and didn’t bother to hide it, closing his eyes as you caressed his head. Kurt shuffled his body around a bit, getting extra comfy with you. He leant his cheek against the skin of your chest, his feet lightly knocking against yours, that you returned playfully, as his lower body was in between your legs. You kept up the repetitive petting of his hair, and Kurt really leaned into your touch. His head going up to meet your movements sometimes.

Kurt just couldn’t believe he was being touched by you. Not like this. But also he could, because you were a good friend, and a loving person, and Kurt hoped beyond hope, that maybe you liked him too, in the way that he liked you.

Your hand was so comforting to him. Playing, and scritching, and ruffling, and massaging, and stroking allllll the right spots. Kurt decided he loved being pet by you. Although he also knew that was gonna be the case anyway.

And being able to hold you back? Getting to wrap his arms around your stomach, as you wrapped one back around him? Kurt loved having you in his arms so much, he never wanted to let go, he never wanted you to be out of them.

And he could smell you. Not in a creepy way, he even knew that himself, but it just felt... comforting. Like a home, Kurt hadn’t really had before. Even in his own house.

Next time, or maybe even later, if this continued, like Kurt prayed for, he could smush his head in the crook of your neck. Although Kurt realistically thought he’d probably fall asleep right then if he did that. There, Kurt only had to be surrounded by you. It’d be dark where he could hide his face, it would smell like you, he’d have your touch, your warmth, he’d even be able to hear you better. Although the sound of your heartbeat was also very soothing to him.

Kurt shifted his head again against your bare chest, stroking you with his own soft cheek, as he managed you take in more of you. Your scent sticking with him, just like your show of affection. Especially now under the blanket you’d thanked Kurt for throwing over the two of you, and for making sure your side was covered first. Kurt adored your praise. And the fact you told Kurt he was so good, like a weighted blanket, you thought you’d need him to help you sleep every night... Oh my god Kurt couldn’t believe his ears. He wanted that. He would be there for you, if you just asked him. Like you’d asked him to cuddle.

‘Thank you God’, Kurt thought, for letting you be brave enough, where Kurt wasn’t, to ask such things first. He shimmied into your soft touch even more.

You guys continued chatting a little, after you both got comfy. Nothing important was said. You both just got each other, and easily fell back and forth in your lulled conversation. All while your hand was raking through Kurt’s hair, and he was picking pieces of fluff off your shirt dotingly, over your ribs. But then you both fell quiet. Your movements still keeping up, but no one saying a word. And Kurt liked the silence. Which he had rarely liked before, especially between the two of you.

But then, a good ten minutes into you both first laying on that frameless mattress, your heads both peeked up at a muffled voice on the other side of the door.

“Kurt have you seen the-?” The doorknob turned, and Kurt’s mother paused in the open doorway, her eyes surprised.

“MOM! Seriously!” Kurt sat straight up, the blanket falling from his chest, as you mildly hid behind his torso, out of embarrassment.

“Sorry! Sorry!” She quickly left, closing the door audibly behind her. But Kurt got up with a grunt and walked to the other side of the room, turning the lock on his door handle for added measure. Then Kurt turned back to you, with embarrassment clear on his own face.

You only giggled, behind your hand, Kurt walking back over to you and rather unceremoniously, plopping himself back down into the mattress. Maybe his ass had just got used to him throwing himself down there by now, you thought.

“Sorry - about that.” Kurt apologised, but was able to keep looking at you because you were only chuckling. And not at him.

You just giggled more audibly at his little apology. Instead of speaking, leaning over, and giving Kurt a quick kiss on his cheek. Telling Kurt he was definitely more than okay. And touching him even more.

Love was cruel and not worth anything in the end. It’s just a consumeristic ploy that gets you to buy movie tickets and to sell chocolate on Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t real. It was all lust, love at first sight? Fake, what they're really thinking is, ‘my god, that person really is fuckable.’

Sighing, you went into your powder pink bathroom. Feet slipping on the water Steve had left after his shower. When all his clothes were in the correct hampers, you quickly passed the kitchen, deciding to skip dinner. You weren’t that hungry, working at a diner was hard, but the free food was a good perk. Especially for a broke college student. 

Your room was dark, the door screamed against its hinges as you shut it. As much as you loved Steve, you were glad he was always gone. In part because it’s what you preferred and you didn’t want to infect in with your sadness. Was it really that pathetic that you were currently reaching for a half-empty bottle of cologne to spay onto your sheets? That in two minutes, you would light three cigarettes and hold them near your pillow? Maybe, but it was the only thing keeping you afloat. Especially now. 

With the cigarettes burning in your hand, you picked up your favorite picture of him. It was a rare one, he was actually smiling. It wasn’t one of those signature smirks he always gave. It was real. The real billy. No one really gave the real Billy a chance. They wrote him off as a punk as soon as they saw him. People are quick to judge when they don’t know the whole story. Just like love, the truth was more painful than what they told us growing up.

“Why can’t I move on?” You whispered to yourself. You took a drag of the cigarette that sat lit between your fingertips. A coughing attack took over, and you groaned reaching for some water. You couldn’t understand his appeal for them, never had, and never will. After all three were burnt, you laid down in your bed that was now plastered in his scent. It wasn’t perfect. Your sheets weren’t mixed with his shampoo, his hairspray or the way his skin smelled after a basketball game. But it was close enough to lull you to sleep for a few hours. 

“Hey! Wake up, we gotta go. It’s an emergency. Pack a bag we’re going to the airport,” Steve shook your shoulders ripping you away from a peaceful sleep. Your heart climbed into your throat and made you sick to your stomach. When you finally gained full consciousness, you watched as Steve ran around the room putting things he thinks you like in a bag. 

He motioned for you to hurry and rushed to his own room to do the same. Grabbing more essentials and getting dressed, you found Steve waiting in the living room for you. He had a toothbrush in his mouth, the paste dribbling down his chin. His shoulder held the phone close to his ear, confirming two flights to LAX. It was two am, and it was officially proven that Steve Harrington was crazy. 

~~

Three days earlier

Billy’s eyes widened as he saw a brown-eyed boy with a bowl cut standing in front of him.  A chill ran up his spine, he knew this kid. The boy smiled before he took a small step back. 

“Will Byers, Jonathan's brother, I was a friend of Max’s?” Billy nodded, finally putting the pieces together. They weren’t friends by any means, but he’d seen him around. He never tried to date Max, so there was no point in getting to know him. 

“How are you alive? We all saw you die, you sacrificed yourself to the mind flayer. How did you survive? Did El bring you back to life?” Rather than frightened, the boy looked confused. He looked as if Billy being brought back to life was an acceptable answer. There was no fear, only confusion, and genuine concern. And for some reason deep down, Billy didn’t feel afraid to tell him the truth, so that’s what he did. 

“Everything was dark, it was Hawkins but with the life taken out of it. It was so cold. No matter what I did, I could never get warm. Sometimes I was in a dark room with water, and I saw that girl you know there too. I tried to get to her, but she left before I could reach her,” with every word he said Billy got more and more withdrawn. A cold breeze running through his body. Will shivered the more he talked 

“We call it The Upside Down, I’ve been there too. When they thought I was missing, that’s where I was. The thing that you saw down there, and what died in the mall was a mind flayer,” the young boy sighed knowing this was information overload. But he also knew that Billy deserved answers. 

“It possessed me too, except I wasn’t stuck in the upside-down. I’m not sure how that happened. A couple of years ago, the U.S. government used Hawkins as one giant experiment, trying to find out that the supernatural existed, to use it as a weapon. Things turned sour, and it left a big mess for my friends, it’s how we found El. She’s the girl you saw down there.” 

On any regular basis, billy would’ve told the young child to go fuck off and give some insult about how he was crazy. But Billy heard the stories about Will Byers, the boy who came back to life. He’d once found an old missing poster with him on it. So for now, he didn’t find it that crazy, especially paired with Billy’s own experiences 

“I saw her touching me.. not me per se but, whatever looked like me. I was sitting on my bed in my room, and she was real and apparently so was I. I tried to yell, to run to get there but nothing was enough. Now it just feels like it’s watching me, following me.”

“We’re connected to it now, to the mind flayer. Even in death, I can still feel it. Maybe it will never leave, maybe it will go away. It’s terrifying, but I don’t want it to control my life. Do you?” A simple question, yet it caught him off guard. He had moved on, things were going fine he had a job, a home, and a small group of friends. But if he asked himself if he was truly happy, he probably would’ve said no. He was scared shitless. 

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Billy whispered. The boy nodded, knowing that despite everything, the two young men would do anything for each other. 

“Can you call someone for me?” 

~~~

Present:

The car moved shook with the bumps along the pavement. The smell of sea salt was becoming stronger, the closer you got to the beach. It was beautiful, that’s what Steve said at least. Your mind was racing, your heart stopped, and your chest slowly moving. You didn’t know how to feel. When you touched down in Los Angeles, you figured something was off, but when Steve started driving towards Palos Verdes, you knew something major must be wrong. You had begged and pleaded to know if El and the rest of the Byers family were okay. It terrified you to no end when Steve remained silent. It took you screaming your lungs out for Steve to finally pull over to a local diner. 

Now you sat in the passenger seat tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t even blink. Billy was alive. Steve told you everything on the side of the highway, at first you thought you heard him wrong because of all the cars driving past. But Steve stood there barely looking you in the eyes like he felt guilty for giving you the information. He hasn’t said much either since you stepped in the car. Explaining it all either drained him or he was afraid to say anything more.

“Billy Hargrove died in the Starcourt Mall from a freak gas leak. If that’s not true, that means the truth is more painful than what actually happened” Steve sighed, he had no idea how to comfort you. He couldn’t tell you everything was okay or it would be fine because it wasn’t. 

Billy was alive, you knew that in your heart. You prayed for so many nights it was all a joke and Billy was pissing his pants from how funny it was. That he would pick you up from work and drive you home. That the man you all thought had died just looked a lot like Billy, and you didn’t know who he really was. 

Yet somehow the truth was much worse than that. Billy knew your heart was shattered, he knew that you were in pain, and he was the only one who could save you. Instead of coming back and risking questions, he walked away. He walked away from you, Max, and everyone else. He watched you and decided you weren’t enough of a reason to come back. He lived it up in California while you got to hold max when she cried herself to sleep every night. Maybe everyone was right, he wasn’t redeemable he was just an asshole. 

“Do you want to see him?” Steve asked you, the beach was only a few minutes away, and your anxiety grew with each mile closer. 

“How am I supposed to look at him after everything. I thought he died in my arms and it turns out he was alive the whole time? Why didn’t he come to me?” A small part of you knew why he did what he did, he was scared and alone. 

“You’re the only person who’s looked at him with pure kindness, he was confused and had nowhere to go. Can you blame him for running away?” He reached over and grabbed your hand. A small gesture that brought you great comfort. 

“How many people know?” 

“Only you, me and Will. Billy wanted to make sure you knew before the others. I’m not sure if he ever plans on telling the others.” He pulled into the beaches parking lot. The glow of the setting sun burned your eyes. He was down there, in the flesh for the first time in over a year. 

You figured out later that the last time you saw the unflayed Billy was the night of the accident. He had just dropped you off, and he said he would see you tomorrow, that he loved you and to be safe. He kissed you and smiled before getting into his car and driving away. After that, Billy started pushing you away, using you only for sex. Until that stopped too and he barely spoke to you. Then he died. You’d felt guilty for so long for not seeing the signs. 

“What if I can’t forgive him?” the whispered confession left your lips in shame. Was it fair to have spent a year grieving for this man only to push him away when you finally got him back? 

“Then you move on, but you won’t know until you see him. So go, he’s waiting.” that was his gentle way of kicking you out of his car. 

You stepped onto the hot pavement. The heat immediately suffocating you, this wasn’t Hawkins anymore. You saw Will standing close the steps, silently greeting you. He gave you a warm smile like he was telling you everything was going to be okay. Will nodded towards the water before going to sit in Steve’s car. 

Taking a deep breath of the salty air, you made your way down to the water. The hot sand sinking underneath your feet. Billy was here, this was the moment. Was he still the same? Would you still love him? Had he moved on? Was he just as broken as you? Your mind flooded with all these questions as you kept walking. Billy wasn’t there yet, giving you a small second of relief to catch your breath. 

A small tap on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, it was hesitant, and he was obviously just as nervous as you were. There he was. When you turned around, the man you loved more than anything was again standing in front of you. He had been kissed by the sun, and his hair was wilder than ever before. His green eyes were bright against his now tanned skin. 

A surge of anger ran through you as you shoved him away, again and again, and again. He took all of it. He grabbed your wrists when you started beating his chest. Bruises would appear later, but Billy knew full well he deserved all of it and more. 

“I’m so sorry,” he begged. His heart was beating so fast against his chest; he was afraid it would kill him before he could get the words out. You looked so perfect, he never doubted you would, but after a year you weren’t just in his dreams anymore. Your face was perfectly clear, the nightmares about forgetting your face vanished. 

He caught you before you fell to your knees into the sand and lowered his own body to you. He ran his fingers through your hair and held you close to his chest. Repeating that he was sorry and that he loved you so much. He begged you to forgive him. 

As he held you, your lungs filled with the smell of cigarettes, his cologne, and the smell of dried sea salt against his skin. He was back, he was warm, life was coursing through his veins. Every image of his cold body being whisked into a black back was replaced. You loved him, he was your one and only. The only man you could ever think of loving. Forgiveness was already given,   and explanations could wait until later. You had all the time in the world, nothing would separate the two of you again. He would always be there for you, he was your forever and always, and you were his.

“I don’t think –” Fjord begins to say, and then cuts himself off as Nott turns her wrathful gaze onto him.

“Go. Get. Jester.”

Fjord nods and hurries out of the room, trying to look as though the reason he’s rushing is because he’s worried about his friend. The homicidal, slightly manic look in Nott’s eyes does not bode well.

(Neither does the growing hole in their floor).

Nott turns her attention back to where Caleb is still on the ground, still groaning but not opening his eyes, still breathing (but for how long?). Nott presses her ear to his chest and listens to his heartbeat, her own sounding a little unsteady as blood roars through her ears.

Jester barges into the room, spells sparking pink on her fingertips, face a mask of blind panic.

“What happened?” she says, crouching next to Caleb and slapping him non-too gently in the face. The only reason Nott moves it because Jester is a healer, and also maybe because she could (theoretically) smack Nott by accident and send her flying into the wall. Jester tended to get a little…overenthusiastic, when she actually deigned someone bed off enough to be in need of her healing. It had happened before.

Nott points with a low hiss at the offending object – the dodecahedron, sitting out of Jester’s pink backpack, glowing faintly in the dim lighting. Caleb had taken it out to study, but had gotten frustrated halfway through and started pacing. Nott hadn’t been paying too much attention at that point, but now she wishes she had been.

From where Nott is sitting, it looks unbearably smug with the situation – insomuch as an inanimate (probably inanimate, Nott is onto it) object can express emotion. She kind of wants to grab it and throw it down the stairs. 

Just as Jester is about to shock a spell into Caleb’s body, he gives a low gasp and lurches forward, eyes flying open. In his rush, he headbutts Jester, and is immediately knocked back onto the ground in a daze. Jester, unbalanced by the unexpectedness of the attack, falls onto her butt.

“I can see it,” Caleb rasps, reaching out to grab Jester’s wrist in a vice-like grip. “I can see it all. There’s – there’s so much of it, Jester, there’s –”

“FUCK!” someone yells, downstairs, as acid drips onto their head.

There are still only three cups.

“I thought I had more time,” Caduces says, mouth quirked slyly as he picks up his own cup of tea to take a long drink from it. They’re all piled outside his house in the cemetery, overgrown canopy dappling the sunlight green and grey. Most of them have found indifferent purchase on the graves, except for Molly, who is sitting on the ground. “I didn’t know when you would show up.”

Caleb’s smile is unbearably fond. “Never change,” he says.

Caduces gives them all a proper grin, teeth showing and eyes lazy. “Oh, I doubt that will be a problem,” he says. He looks at Molly. “And who is this? Your friend?”

“Your friend, too, now,” Nott says. She’s bundled herself next to Caduces to ward off the slight chill in the air, foregoing the tea in favour or something heavier.

“Of course,” Caduces says, face unchanging.

“Mollymauk Tealeaf, a pleasure to be at your acquaintance,” Molly says. He starts to get up, but Yasha just grabs the back of his ridiculous coat and pulls him back to the ground.

“Don’t bother,” she says, taking a small sip of tea. She passes the cup to Molly.

“Mr. Clay,” Caduces introduces himself, nodding his head in a slight bow. “This is just delightful. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“And I’ve certainly heard a lot about you,” Molly says, which isn’t exactly a lie per say, but they hadn’t really gone out of their way to explain…well, Caduces to him. Yasha had taken a tiny bit of savage glee in the jealousy generated from the pink mohawk. “Though I would certainly love to know just how you met my wonderful travelling companions. Everyone certainly seems very comfortable with each other.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Beau says through a yawn, basking in the sunlight. She had balanced herself between two graves – the names chipped clean, though the words “I TOLD YOU I WAS –” could be vaguely made out beneath the ivy – and was lying back with the kind of peace that can only be found in a graveyard, surrounded by friends. “I only met you a month ago.”

Molly squints at her suspiciously.

“I’ve heard only good things,” Caduces reassures him.

“…likewise,” Molly says, after a long moment. He drags out a showman smile, bigger than life and twice as wide. “When did you say the last time you left this place was, again?”

“It’s been – hmm – twenty seasons, now? Eighteen?”

“Okay, what the –”

Yasha leaves, as Yasha is want to do.

“I’ll be back in a month,” she says, the storm an intense backdrop to the glare she gives them all. “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

“We’ll try not to!” Nott says, giving her a quick hug. Molly has stopped reacting to these open displays of affection now, but Yasha can tell it still startles him in the moment. She has never been an overly affectionate person – that has always been Molly’s bit. Despite her own…slight…overprotectiveness of him, she’s managed to keep it together well enough to fool composure. If Yasha is anything, she is an actor.

(Somewhere along the way, she’s become something so much more).

Yasha crosses her arms and stares them down, daring any of them to even get a scratch while she’s gone. Then she turns to Molly.

“if you die,” she says, enunciating the words very clearly. “I will kill you.”

He arches an eyebrow and twists out a smirk. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, and reaches up to press a kiss to her cheek. “Like I would ever do that to you.”

Yasha looks back at the group, who all – to varying degrees – look as though they’ve been sucker-punched straight to the gut. What a dick, she thinks.

“If any of you die,” she begins.”

Beau rolls her eyes and shoves her forward, darting in front of her to brush a quick kiss over her lips. It’s over before Yasha has time to react.

“Get going, already,” she says. “We’ll still be around when you get back.”

Yasha goes.

(They’re still there when she gets back).

“Keg!”

“What the fuck?”

Keg jumps back a good fives paces as two overly enthusiastic (and five less enthusiastic but still present) bodies surround her. She’s tired, she hasn’t slept in a good two days, and she’s run out of booze. Today probably isn’t a good day to antagonise her.

“Oh, Keg,” Nott says, latching onto her arm and hugging her.

Keg stares down at the little halfling (is this a halfling? Keg can’t tell, the creepy mask is blocking pretty much everything) with undisguised horror. “What the fuck,” she says, again.

“It’s been so long!” Beau says, sweeping both Keg and Nott up with an impressive show of strength. Keg grunts and tries to wriggle out of their grasp, but despite getting in a good kick to the kidney, Beau doesn’t let go.

“Who are you?” Keg yells.

“I’m so glad this isn’t just me,” someone tall and purple says off to the corner of her peripheral. Keg chooses to ignore that, because she has more pressing concerns. Namely, what the actual fuck.

They pick up someone who can turn into a horse, because of course they do.

Keg doesn’t even know if she’s supposed to be surprised by anything anymore. Honestly, it’s all just one massive alcohol-fuelled blur at this point.  

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Molly turns slowly to face Yasha, who is looking at him with the kind of crazy eyes he’s been seeing more and more often the longer they stay with this group of rabid maniacs. No offense intended – he enjoys the odd rabid maniac as much as the next person (probably more, if he’s going to be honest) – but Molly isn’t sure he’s enjoying just how much Yasha is being dragged in. He’s used to the almost claustrophobic (but not quite) closeness that she radiates simply by being in the same room; warmth, really. Molly has had so little warmth.

This does seem a bit excessive, though.

“Into the house?” he says, gesturing vaguely with his sword. On the other side of the compound, Nott is murdering a set of guards with the kind of stealth Beau wishes that she possessed.

“I don’t think so,” Yasha says.

“What? Why?”

“Yasha points to a log. “Sit. Stay.”

Molly gapes at her. “I most certainly will not!”

“Shh,” Fjord says, off to the side. “We are trying to be sneaky.”

“You as well,” Yasha says. She hasn’t stopped pointing.

“Nice try, Yasha.”

Yasha shrugs and then goes back to glaring at Molly, which is almost a reflex these days. Molly still isn’t sure what he did to warrant such an extreme reaction, but as soon as he figures it out he’s going to fix it.

He still isn’t entirely sure how they ended up here, anyway. They had met the delightful Keg on their way back from Shady Creek Run with Caduces ambling along with them, only to immediately turn heel and start back towards the (veritable) hellhole as soon as they met up with Keg. Almost certainly planned, Molly thinks darkly – or he would, if Keg didn’t exist in such an obvious and perpetual state of confusion.

“If I told you,” Fjord says with an easy kind of confidence. “That this was a one-off, trauma-based paranoia, and we would never, ever ask you to sit out of a fight like this again – would you concede to staying behind?”

“Absolutely not,” Molly says. “The only way you’re keeping me out of this is if you tie me to a tree.”

They tie him to a tree.

“You shouldn’t worry so much about it,” Caduces says, when they’re heading back (for real, this time) and their shared watch drags long. “They’re – well – they’re only worried about you, you know. It’s almost endearing.”

Molly bares his teeth and lashes out his tail, frustration building hot. “I’m not helpless,” he says.

“No,” Caduces agrees.

Molly flicks him a narrow look. “But you agree with them.”

“In this case, yes,” Caduces says. “But, well, only because they would have been very distracted with you there. You have noticed that, right? That you’re very distracting?”

“I am aware,” Molly says. It’s a struggle to keep a smile fixed in place, but that’s nothing new. At every turn, his new travelling companions are finding new and impossible ways to dazzle him with their bullshit. It’s an impressive feat, since he finds them so delightful that he doesn’t even mind it half the time.

“It won’t happen again,” Caduces says. “I’ll, well – I’d better talk to them about it. It is getting a little silly.”

“Just a bit,” Molly says.

They sit together in warm, companionable silence, watching over their sleeping friends and waiting for morning to come.

They’re thrown out of the inn.

It isn’t one they frequent very often, which is probably why Nott’s little “accident” comes as such a surprise. Anywhere they stay at for more than a week is bound to take at least some wear and tear – something that usually comes out of their shared budget. A lot of their regular holes are just charging upfront for damages, now, which is probably for the best.

“So what do we did we lean from this?” Fjord says. He still looks slightly stunned from the ferocity of their departure. The managed had actually come down from his office and loudly counted “one, two, three, four…” outside of their doors as they had scrambled to gather everything together, culminating in a shouting “YOUR FIVE MINUTES ARE UP!” and a swift boot to the backside. Nominating Jester to be the one to smooth things over had, in hindsight, been a bad idea.

“Absolutely nothing,” Caduces says, looking a little disgruntled at hanging been working up so rudely. Naps always did wonders for his composure, and a lack of sleep was an unfortunate necessity while travelling on the roads that had lead to this town.

“I need to get some things,” Caleb says, visibly dazed. There’s an ugly bruise forming high on his temple, and his eyes gleam with a frenzied sheen that seems to have very little to do with his recent (possibly ongoing?) concussion. “We should – go buy some – I should go and –”

Someone clears their throat pointedly behind them.

Caleb turns around to see Beau glaring at the group, leading Yasha forward by the hand. She looks simultaneously unimpressed and unsurprised.

“We’ve only been here three hours,” she says.

Her presence seems to have snapped Caleb out of his state of confusion, only for mania to take hold. “I have so much work to do!” he shouts, waving his arms around like a crazy person. Then he runs off.

They all stare after him for a long second.

“Not it,” Beau says, finger on her nose.

“You can’t be –”

“NOT IT!” Jester yells.

“Not it.”

“Not it.”

“I’ll go find him,” Nott huffs, storming after Caleb without a backwards glance.

Here’s the thing: on his knees on the floor of their (new) shared inn room, his friends curled up in unconscious grumpy balls along the wall, Caleb has no idea what he’s doing.