#aaayyyyyy

Rogue rolled his eyes and passed up the crystal ball in favor for the decorations of the fortune tellers cabin they had chosen to explore. All Rogue had wanted was to get a cheap fortune read by a scam artist, but when Sting and him entered the tent there was no one there.

At first Rogue had thought maybe the fortune teller was busy in some back corner of the tent flaps. But upon investigation those tent flaps only lead to a desolate backstage of the halloween themed carnival. So instead of a fortune teller, they had a one room round tent so decorated with swirling patterns, wind chimes, and fairy statues that it was an affront on the eyes. Rogue had to take his time looking around in order to really absorb the different rocks, tarot cards, and books that were displayed everywhere.

He stopped at a book spine that read Communing With Your Dead. Rogue scoffed and grabbed the book–a heavy tome with a leather backing and gold embellishments. If this were a movie, Rogue would be holding the most important book in the world.

“That’s disconcerting,” Rogue said, holding out the book for Sting to see.

Sting chuckled, “I don’t know, it’s kinda comforting how it’s your dead. Not like somebody else’s dead.” Rogue raised his eyebrows to give Sting a look. “Seriously though, Rogue, this place is weird. We should just leave and check out the rest of the scary rides.”

“Afraid of a little silence are we?” Rogue teased.

“Silence is never good in horror movies!” Sting countered. “The moment it turns silent is the moment before they get you.”

Rogue shrugged. “Alright, this was a bust anyway. Guess we’re not getting our doom-ridden fortune told today.”

“The next apocalypse perhaps?” Sting joked, laughing dryly as if he were actually unnerved but didn’t want to show it.

Sting turned to the exit, Rogue followed shortly after, but just before he was about to open the tent to leave, something glowed from behind them. It wasn’t a faint glow either; the entire tent lit up with a red tint, and Rogue swore the tent wasn’t this dark before. Slowly the couple turned back to the fortune teller’s table...on which sat the glowing crystal ball, now the only source of light for them.

Rogue and Sting shared a look. Rogue was more cautious and wary about what was happening whereas Sting’s blue orbs went wide as saucers. Rogue opened his mouth but Sting beat him to it, quickly opening the tent flap again and rushing out with a hurried chorus of “Nope! Nope! Nope!”

Rogue reached out to pull his shoulder back in, but it seemed he didn’t need to because as soon as Sting set one foot outside the threshold of the tent, the flap was forced down by what Rogue thought was a gust of wind. Sting stumbled backwards, Rogue caught him under the arms so he wouldn’t fall.

“Something pushed me!” Sting blurted out and suddenly the tent went completely dark. There hadn’t been a single trace of electricity in it to begin with, only lots of candles and incense, but now it was more like even the sun had dropped off the side of the solar system.

Rogue could barely see Sting in front of him; his partner’s messy blonde hair was a haze of a ghost in the otherwise dark tent. Before either of them could say anything, the crystal ball flashed like lightning.

Rogue caught the sparks in Sting’s blue eye, saw the way it lit up the tip of his nose and the round edge of his cheeks. Lightning flashed like a backdrop, while that red glow returned and swirled in the milky crystal.

“What the h-” Rogue was about to say, knitting his eyebrows together. But in the next moment the entire tent rumbled. The rickety metal beams holding the whole thing together shook like they were experiencing an earthquake. The cloth of the tent trembled. The books and healing rocks on every shelf rattled.

As soon as the tent started shaking a deep, warped voice sounded in the air, like it came from a megaphone. It was deep like rocks rolling underwater but there was an added reverb that echoed in their ears and made every note deeper than the last. The sound of it sent chills up Rogue’s spine.

“The spirits are displeased,” it hissed. The minute the voice spoke, Sting shrieked and jumped closer to Rogue. “Sting Eucliffffeee-” If Sting was scared before now he was positively ghosting with fear.

He gripped onto Rogue tighter, nearly jumping into the other’s arms. His leg twisted over Rogue’s body as he screamed and pushed his head in the crook of Rogue’s neck. Rogue meanwhile rolled his eyes, completely unphased by the racket Sting was making.

“Prepare to be teste-uh-shit Raios!” Before the voice could finish speaking the warped audio cut out and what was once a ghostly wail was reduced to a deep, normal voice. Gruff sounding, and raspy, but normal. Sting didn’t realize it until Rogue was smirking, and swinging a cord around in his free hand but he must have found a plug and cut the voice changer. At the same time the special flashing lights ceased. The normal lights of the tent turned back on and the red glow of the crystal was left looking substantially less intimidating.

Sting knitted his eyebrows together. He looked around and behind Rogue in confusion. “Where did you find that?”

“I accidentally stepped on it when you jumped on me,” Rogue replied with a shrug and tossed the cord to the ground.

Sting pouted and crossed his arms. “I didn’t jump, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ya jumped like a little fucking girl,” the gruff voice returned to the speaker system, once more startling Sting until he looked around for the source. “Never heard a scream so pathetic in my life.”

Finally the recognition dawned on Sting. He’d heard that voice before. “Gajeel?” he asked, still looking at the ceiling of the tent as if Gajeel were a floating spirit not some disembodied voice.

“Bingo,” the speaker system said again. There was a pause then someone punched the fabric of the tent where Sting was standing. “Right here, ya idiot,” Gajeel said, coming into full view from a break in the tent flaps they hadn’t known was there.

“What the hell was that, asshole?” Sting rounded on him but Rogue held him back with one strong arm over his stomach.

Gajeel laughed in the way that is so unique to him Rogue could never forget it. Sting however only seem more irritated by it. Rogue flashed his brother a look. “C’mon, Gajeel you know easily scared Sting is.”

“Ghihi, that’s exactly why I had to do it. You make it too rewarding, kid.” Sting flashed Gajeel an obscene gesture which only made him laugh some more. “At least now I know how useless you’ll be if you ever meet a real ghost.”

Rogue pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gajeel, ghosts aren’t real.”

Gajeel frowned and gave Rogue a very serious look. “You say that now. But mark my word, Ryos, there’ll be a day you’re stuck with this idiot and it’ll be prime time for a ghost meal.”

Sting scoffed, and Rogue could already tell where this was going. For some reason whenever it came to his his brother and his boyfriend they loved to compete. More often than not Gajeel would tease Sting who then let his pride get the better of him and chaos would ensue.

“I could take a ghost one-handed if I want,” Sting boasted.

Gajeel lifted an eyebrow suspiciously. “Ya can’t fight a ghost, its incorporeal.”

“I don’t even care what that means,” Sting said his voice getting louder now, “Doesn’t mean I can’t kick its ass.”

“Actually yes, that’s exactly what it means. What the fuck are you smoking?” Gajeel said.

Rogue rolled his eyes, “You’re both idiots. Okay, can we get food now or something? Y’know, before you destroy the tent with your roughhousing?”

Rogue may as well have been invisible. Sting and Gajeel stepped closer, nearly butting heads as they bickered back and forth. Rogue let out a sigh and gave up trying to stop them when Gajeel started boasting about how his cat could kick Sting’s cat’s ass.

Slyly Rogue slipped out of the tent, back into the chilly fall breeze. Some golden leaves strayed in the wind down the path of vendors as the halloween fair. As soon as Rogue stepped out a familiar voice called to him.

“Oh, hi Rogue,” she was cheerful and sweet sounding like candy.

“Hey Yukino,” Rogue replied with a lazy wave. Yukino was standing by the aim and shoot prize game, next to Minerva who had a furious grip on her water rifle, trying to shoot down every empty soda can she could.

Minerva was too involved in her game so Yukino walked over to Rogue a stuffed bear already in her arms. It looked like Minerva had been at that game for hours. “How’s the fair going?” Yukino asked as she got closer. Once she was within earshot though she caught wind of Gajeel and Sting’s play fighting. It helped that the two had now taken to roughhousing, which shook the entire fortune teller’s tent. She gave the tent a quirked eyebrow.

Rogue sighed, “Sting and Jeel,” he said. Yukino gave him a look of realization, mouthing the words Ah, that.

Suddenly they could hear Minerva’s angered voice floating to them from the game as the carnie told her that she won second place. “Again?!” Minerva shouted, “C’mon, I clearly hit that top bottle but it didn’t move! This game is rigged.”

The carnie looked at her and shrugged, offering again the same stuffed bear Yukino was holding. “You still won second prize, lady, do you want it?”

Minerva slammed the rifle down on the counter. “No, I don’t want second prize! My girlfriend deserves first and I would have won it if your game wasn’t rigged.”

As Minerva went off for a bit longer Yukino and Rogue shared a tired look. “I’ve tried telling her I really don’t need it,” Yukino said by way of explanation.

Rogue nodded, “She gets too carried away. Half the time I think Sting just tries to prove himself to my brother, despite me telling him he really doesn’t have to.”

“Do you think one day they’ll learn?” Yukino asked.

Rogue shrugged. “Knowing Gajeel he’ll never stop being competitive. And Sting’s too prideful to let him have the last go.”

Yukino gave a small chuckle. “I s’ppose that’s true. Minerva’s always been too worried about impressing everyone. We’re working on it but now it seems she’s fixated on only impressing me.”

Rogue and Yukino shared a half laugh at how ridiculous they’re significant others were. But it didn’t last long because Minerva’s voice got louder. Looking back at her, Rogue could see she now had a tight grip on the carnies collar and was pulling him over the edge of the counter demanding a refund.

“Oh no,” Yukino said rather blandly before shooting Rogue an apologetic look and going to save the poor man. Rogue’s attention was divided just as quickly as suddenly the frame of the tent was crashed into and the entire thing came toppling down on a screaming Sting and Gajeel.

“Oh, for the love of-” Rogue shouted walking over to the tent where now the two boys weren’t fighting anymore but screeching in fear. “You two are going to end up dead without me one of these days,” Rogue said exasperated into the tangle of fabric as it writhed.

“Ow! Don’t poke it so hard,” Sting said as he sucked in a breath. Rogue rubbed the antibiotic ointment once more on his open wound. It wasn’t the worst cut Sting had gotten fighting Gajeel but it still left his cheek swollen and blue. Gajeel meanwhile had more scraps from the frame of the tent collapsing on him than anything else.

“Stop being a baby,” Rogue reprimanded. “If you two didn’t fight so much this wouldn’t happen.”

Sting and Gajeel looked at each other from across the room. Rogue had forced them both to sit down in dining chairs across the room while he checked them both for injuries and patched them up. Sting stuck his tongue out at Gajeel who sneered at him.

Rogue just grabbed Sting’s cheeks and forced him to look back at him. He winced when Rogue’s grip squeezed his cut a little. “How many times do I have to tell you, you don’t have to bicker so much.”

Gajeel crossed his arms and chuckled. “Relax Ryos, I just gotta make sure my little brother’s being taken care of.”

“By fighting with my boyfriend every chance you get?” Rogue shot him a look to which he grimaced and looked away.

When Rogue looked back at Sting he had a look of restrained pride on. “Don’t you start smirking either,” Rogue said firmly and Sting’s expression changed instantly. “You’re just as bad as he is, you never know when to let things go or not let him get to you.”

Sting pouted but didn’t meet Rogues eye as he finished applying the antibiotic and closing up the cut with a transformers bandaid. Now Megatron protected the open flesh with a fighting ready stance, it’s gun leveled at the outside world.

Once Rogue was done he put his hands on his hips and glared at both of them. Sting rubbed lightly at the new bandaid on his cheek. Still pouting he said, “Sorry, babe. I didn’t want to ruin the fair for you.”

Rogue hated seeing Sting like that, it made his heart melt. “You didn’t ruin it. If anything this will be a great christmas story to tell Dad.” Rogue smirked as Gajeel shot out of his seat and Sting hid his hands in his hands.

“Oh no. No, no, no, no…” Sting muttered at the same time Gajeel shrieked, “Don’t tell Dad!”

Rogue had to keep from laughing as Gajeel continued. “Ryos if you tell the ol’ man I may just have to kill him.”

Rogue spared him no mercy. “Then don’t tell him you’ll stop fighting and disregard your own word.” Gajeel grumbled in response. “Now what did we learn?” Rogue asked like a teacher to his students.

Sting mumbled, “No more fighting,” at the same time that Gajeel said, “Don’t kick my brother’s boyfriend’s ass.”

Sting shot Gajeel a hairy eyeball to which he snickered but was shot down quickly with a look from Rogue. Gajeel cleared his throat and corrected himself. “No more fightin’.”

“Good,” Rogue began. “Now we should probably check on Yukino and Minerva. Last I knew Minerva was having a bout with one of the vendors. With any luck they’ll only be kicked out of the fair.”

    John’s bunker was like a museum dedicated to sin. Blood covered the walls like a Jackson fuckin’ Pollock painting. People’s heads were covered with animal skulls and flowers, looking like some grotesque homage to Salvador Dali’s more peculiar works. Each step made you feel like you were taking a part of your own funeral march. Each step made you feel inanimate, like you were going to be the latest addition to John’s sinister workings.

    When Staci was led to that final room, the first thing he noticed wasn’t the workbench. It wasn’t the tattoo gun. It wasn’t the stench of blood and decay. It wasn’t even John. A man who demands everyone’s attention was nothing more than a mere fly on the wall to Staci. What took hold of Staci’s attention? What made Staci’s heart wrench in his chest? Who made Staci’s eyes widen and show true fear?

    Alex.    Alex was there.    Getting tattooed by John.    Being forced to atone.

    'Ah deputy! I was hoping you would do the honors of removing the tattoo, our brother has not yet properly atoned. But he will soon.’

    Staci never wanted it to come to this. Staci never wanted John to get between Staci and Alex. Did Alex and Staci know they were doomed? Of course they did. They knew they were fated to fail. They knew there was no salvation for them both. Being torn apart was a certainty they knew of, but they at least wanted to be together as long as they could. Now, Staci just had to accept that today was the day they would be torn apart. 

    He took the knife that John handed to him. It was like Judas’ kiss, betrayal in its finest. The Deputy could feel John smile. Feel that enraptured, manic gaze aimed towards him. Here Staci was, taking the bait and following orders like a good mutt. Slowly, he sat on Alex’s lap, bringing that knife up to Alex’s chest, but not yet piercing his skin. 

    Blue eyes watched him in intrigue. Green eyes looked at him in betrayal, but that betrayal quickly turned into confusion.

    Staci winked.    He winked.    He winked and flashed a reassuring grin that only Alex could see.    The kind of wink and grin combo that assured that Staci was about to do something incredibly stupid. 

    Staci dropped the knife, standing up and looking back to John with feigned sorrow in his eyes. If John wanted dramatics, then he would give John dramatics. He bowed and shook his head. “I can’t, brother. I can’t cut into his flesh. Look at him!” Staci angrily pointed back at Alex. “He is not sorry for his sin! He will not regret his sin! He cannot atone! He’s proud of his sin, can’t you see it?”

    Staci, Pratt, Peaches, whatever John wanted to call him, put his fingertips on his chest and brought them down his sternum, just like John did. He breathed in and out heavily, simulating that broken breathing. “Alex…He!! He revels in his sin! He lives in it! Why does he get to atone when all he does is take advantage of this–this gracious gift you give him?”

    The former Deputy’s eyes were wild, filled with the light of John’s hellfire. There had never been so much excitement in them before now. His mind was full of flares, each shooting off in bright, brilliant colors as he orchestrated each and every one of his movements to blur the line between Staci Pratt and John Seed’s personalities.

    “He does not deserve to atone. Not yet. I say we let him go. Let him stew in his sin like a maggot in a decaying corpse!” Staci rushed behind Alex’s chair, placing a clawed hand over the new tattoo and an open hand on his shoulder. “He will crawl back to you, brother. He will crawl back to you and he will beg for forgiveness. He will beg for you to get rid of his pain, of his sin. Only then will he truly appreciate what the Baptist does for his people.”