They made it as far as Neptune’s capital city before Nureyev stopped driving.
He pulled the Ruby Seven to the side of the street, turning off the engine. They were just outside Salacia, on the outskirts of one of the city's many suburbs. It was silent, the roads empty and lit only by a flickering street lamp in dire need of service. But still Nureyev was cautious as he stepped out the car, his head on a pivot as he checked for cameras.
There was a bank across the street, its glowing sign proudly advertising an ATM. But a carefully aimed laser from his pocket made short work of its camera. By the time anyone thought to reconstruct what was left of the tape, he would be long gone.
Hands trembling and heart aching, that thought shouldn’t have hurt nearly as much as it did.
Fold it away.
The bus depot was only a few kilometres away. It would take him to the spaceport, where one of his three shuttle tickets would get him far away from here. Each one had been paid for under a different name, and each one was headed in a different direction. Even Nureyev wasn’t certain which shuttle he intended to catch, he would pick at random when he got there.
Nureyev grabbed his bag, and slung it over his shoulder. It was light, small enough to fit under his seat on the shuttle and packed only with essentials. Everything else had been destroyed when he… when he…
Unbidden, his eyes burned, filling with tears. Nureyev tilted his head back, jaw clenched as he blinked rapidly.
Fold it away.
There was only one thing left to do. With hands trembling so badly he nearly dropped it, Nureyev pulled Peter Ransom’s comms out of his pocket, with its purple case and dangling fox charm. The tiny thing had been a gift from Rita after their second week aboard the carte blanche, handed to him with a hug and a fit of giggles.
The charm spun lazily on its tether, orange enamel glinting in the streetlight. He snapped it off, slipping it into the front pocket of his jacket before powering on his comm. It came to life with a chime and a flurry of missed messages.
He ignored them all, pausing only to muster a watery smile at Juno’s lovely face staring up at him from the wallpaper. With a few button presses, he erased everything from the device. The SIM card was removed in short order and snapped in two before he dropped the comm and smashed it beneath the heel of his boot.
All in all, it was a far nicer funeral than Peter Ransom deserved.
Behind him, the Ruby seven whistled- low and inquisitive as its headlights flashed. Nureyev rolled his shoulders as he grasped his emotions tight and shoved them somewhere deep inside him.
“Thank you for bringing me this far.” He told it, running a grateful hand along the slope of its hood.
The greatest getaway vehicle in the galaxy. If it wasn’t for this car, Nureyev wouldn’t have been able to escape Dark Matters. Even if he wasn’t the one they were looking for, Rex Glass was not something easily forgotten, or forgiven.
Another chirp, more enthusiastic than before as the driver's side door popped open, the engine turning over with a hopeful rumble. But Nureyev shook his head.
“Not this time, I’m sorry to say.” He said sadly, taking a step back. “This is where we part, I fear. Go back to Carte Blanche.”
He had spent years of his life idolising this car. Stealing it from the Oasis Casino had been one of his greatest achievements as a thief. It had saved his life so many times over the last few years. His, and far more importantly Juno’s.
Nureyev only prayed it could save the detective one last time.
The Ruby revved its engines, back tires spinning in place and spitting up gravel. If it wasn’t a car, Nureyev would call the display petulant.
“This isn’t up for debate.” Nureyev told it firmly, jaw clenched against the burning behind his eyes. He had made it this far, he would not cry now. Not when it was his decision to leave. Not when he had torn apart everything that Juno had tried to build for them. Not when this was his fault. “Go find Jet and the others. They need you.”
Outside of the city lights, Nureyev could just make out the stars through the dome. If he squinted he could pretend that one of the glowing white specs was the ship he had left behind. The ship that Dark Matters had invaded.
But if they had the ruby, then maybe the crew of the Carte Blanche still stood a chance. Nureyev may have abandoned them, but he couldn’t… He wouldn’t… He had to do something.
Warm metal nudged against his legs as the Ruby inched forward, vibrating with the force of its engines. But Nureyev turned his back on it.
“You are the greatest getaway car in the galaxy.” He forced out, fists clenched at his side.“They need you. I can’t take you from them. Now go, Ruby.”
The blast of a horn shattered the silent night. But louder still was the whip crack of Nureyev’s voice as he whirled on it.
“I said GO!”
Nureyev bit down the pang of sympathy that clawed at his throat as the Ruby whistled, low and dejected sounding. Its door slammed closed, gravel crunching beneath its tires as it backed away from him
Breathing hard in the wake of his outburst, Nureyev watched it turn around and drive away. His nerves were struggling as tight as garrote wire as the Ruby’s thrusters activated, burning orange then blue as it lifted into the sky.
Nureyev couldn’t look away, even as the Ruby faded from view. Tears poured down his cheeks- he wiped at them futilely, but it did nothing to stem the tide. A strangled sob escaped Nureyev’s lips as his only way home left without him.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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An offline browser built from the ground up to archive Homestuck and its related works. Now with mod support!
Is an excellent way to read homestuck and I highly recommend it, whether you're new to the series (are people willingly subjecting themselves to it without the filter of nostalgia???) Or returning to it (way more likely).
It creates a fake browser for you to read the entirety of homestuck as it was when it came out, with internal links to music and other goodies. It also has some filters for language and sensitivity if that was a hindrance to your enjoyment of it (because to be fair, 2000s humor isn't for everyone).
Have fun! And go ruin someone's day by forcing them to read homestuck >:]
took a break from comic-ing to revisit one of the greatest aus i’ve ever made. the blue one. the one with the blues. the one where everyone is a little bit blue. blueverse.
it wasn’t anything special; a white crew neck gone soft with a thousand washes, with yellow flowers embroidered over a useless pocket. But it made him smile every time he wore it. A smile that only appeared when Benten stood in front of the mirror- soft, and entirely for him as he smoothed out invisible wrinkles, turning to see how the lines fell on his lean frame
Ben was wearing his favourite shirt, the day Juno visited home.
it was the first thing he always reached for once the laundry was folded and put away. It was just a shirt, but it always put a skip in his step —cheeks dimpled and eyes shining. Any day he wore it would be a good one, because Ben had decided it would be. a good luck charm made of worn cotton and yellow thread. It had been his favourite since the day Juno had bought it for him, all those years ago.
Ben was wearing his favourite shirt, the day he died.
And Juno wished he could think about anything else.
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There was something about cards. The smooth feel of them when Slip dealt them in front of him The balance between strategy and blind luck, finding patterns in the cards you were dealt. He’d been playing a lot of solitaire since coming back, waking up both his mind and his sluggish muscles.
Things like walking and taking had become easier in time, but it was the fine motor skills that Slip still found himself struggling with. The once familiar pattern of shuffling and dealing was definitely helping, even if progress was slower than Slip would have liked.
Patience, Vespa kept telling him at every check up- firm and rasping. Slip knew she was right, but that didn’t make it any easier.
“You winning?”
From his spot cross legged on the floor, Slip looked up as a plate of flood was placed at his feet. A grilled cheese, the perfect shade of golden brown with a neat stack of carrot sticks next to it. All carefully made by the lady standing next to him, hovering like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to stay.
“Depends on how you define winning I guess.” Slip said, putting the cards down in favour of a carrot stick. At first he had bristled at the idea of being waited on like this. Like was a fragile doll that would shattered to pieces if it wasn’t taken care of correctly.
But that was just the way Juno was, Slip was slowly learning. He did the same to everyone, if given half the chance and kitchen. It was cute… in a way that Slip was still trying to get used to. Back on Brahma nothing came without strings attached, especially as a pest. Doubly so whenever food was involved.
Something about Juno seemed like he understood that though. Slip had a hunch it was the same reason why nobody ever left the detective’s apartment feeling hungry.
“I don’t have to um… keep playing solitaire though,” Slip offered, waving a hand to the empty spot in front of him. “If you want to play something?”
“Oh?” Juno sat down on the floor next to him, grunting softly as his knees popped in protest. “You got something in mind?”
Slip gathered up the deck, stacking the cards together before shuffling them. A swell of pride filled him as he managed the bridge without his hands shaking too badly “Street poker?”
“With a shark like you? not on your life.” Juno snorted, leaning back on his hands. “I’m still figuring out all the rules to that stupid game. It doesn’t make any damn sense.”
“That’s kinda the whole point.” Slip said, an easy smile filling his face. It was easy to see why Petya liked him so much- there was just something about the detective that put you at ease. The rumble of his voice, or the way you didn’t feel like you had to pretend. “You have any suggestions?”
“What about regular good old fashioned poker.” Juno immediately offered, plucking the newly shuffled deck from his hands. “no war goats required. Also, eat- before it gets cold.”
“Fine.” Slip mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich. He had to admit it was good, the perfect amount of cheese all melted to perfection. “But no way I’m playing poker with you. Not with the way you count cards.”
“Hey! Where’d you hear that!” Juno protested, actually having the audacity to sound offended.
“Vespa.”
“You can’t trust anything she says,” Juno huffed, arms crossed defensively across his chest “she’s just a sore loser.’
“And, Petya,” Slip continued without mercy, “ and um Rita and Buddy, and—HEY!”
Slip ducked just in time as a pillow from the couch was lobbed at his head. He scrambled for it, throwing it blindly back. It caught Juno square in the face, the detective letting out a muffled off as Slip started laughing so hard his lungs hurt.
Juno was also laughing as the cushion fell into his lap. Somewhere in the frey his eyepatch had come askew- revealing the mess of scars that lay beneath. Slip wanted to ask him about it— maybe one day he’d actually work up the nerve.
“Alright, alright— no poker then.” The detective said, adjusting the straps across his face so his eyepatch sat properly one more. “Okay Jackson, you come up with something then.”
“I don’t know… crazy 8s?”
“Works for me,” Juno said, dealing the cards into two neat piles. “Winner does the dishes this week?”
“Only if we can’t bully Petya into doing them.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
Buddy always had a hunch that someone on her crew would betray them…
Never in her wildest dreams did she expect that person would be Juno Steel.
————
this fic is a very long time coming- and i am so excited to share it with everyone. its an s3 canon divergence featuring nureyev’s debt plot line. so spoilers up to s4, but nothing from the most recent season.
massive thanks to @violetsinviolence for the gorgeous banner and @melonoverlord for betaing this
