#wickes

As Phantom takes a step forward, since Wickes is definitely right, Bim’s heart leaps into his chest, racing a mile a minute. Now? Already? Can’t they have another five minutes? Except Wickes is right. This moment has to happen, and the longer they leave this, the worse it’s going to hurt.

When Phantom’s cane glows, Bim steps closer, holding Tobi’s hand close, watching the light slowly spread over the dumbass hero. It grows, covering every inch of skin swallowing him up.

They all watch and wait in silence as it becomes brighter, glowing intensely until the details of the man in the light begin to blur, and eventually, the limbs they’re holding onto become air. Within moments, where Tobias….Damien once stood, there’s nothing but empty space.

Phantom says something, but the words don’t break through.

Bim stares at his fingers, empty. Silent tears cascade down his cheeks. It’s too quiet but what the hell is he supposed to say? What is he supposed to do?

Surprisingly strong arms reach forward, wrapping around him and pulling him against a strange yet oddly familiar chest. The hands are dirty, worn and cracked, a sign that whoever they belong to uses them often. Bim doesn’t think. He just leans into the chest, reaching to hold it back, not really registering who it is, just that they’re there, and right now that’s just what he needs. A shuddery breath in is followed by a quiet choking on a strangled cry that Bim can’t keep in.

This is all his fault.

“It’s okay.” the chest he’s held against rumbles. It sounds like Wilford, but Bim knows that means it must be William. Surprisingly similar but so different at the same time. “We’ll fix this.”

Except there’s so much to fix. How much more must they lose before this ends, before they can rise up and take back their home. Stress and anxiety he didn’t know he was holding in wells up and pours out, clinging a little tighter and just crying. Because godammit, Bim’s earned that much.

Part of him wishes he could stay like this. Hidden from the world and it’s cruelties, just for a little while. Pretend that everything isn’t all falling to shit. Except the ragtag remains of his family are waiting in the next room. They’ll be waking up soon and they’re going to need him to make sure nobody else does anything else incredibly stupid.

Bim pushes back, straightening up, barely able to raise his head, but still smiling, thanking William for the small comfort. Phantom is gone, but the three strangers are still there. Something else he will have to prepare the others for. Something to try and explain to Dark and Wilford. Oh lord! Wilford!

The door to the other room suddenly crashes open, revealing a still incredibly weak-looking Dark stood on the other side. Almost all his weight is leaning on Marvin, stood beside him with the grey man’s arm thrown over his shoulder. By the tired and aggravated look of the magician’s face, there was an argument about moving the grey bastard, and Marvin lost.

As always, Dark is scowling.

Dark isn’t sure about Bim’s attitude right now but they don’t have time to be fighting about it. “Fixing Google has to be our priority.”

“And what about Bing?”

“I understand I have this reputation of being heartless,” in fact it’s something he’s quite proud of. So many of their family, of their problems, stemming from an inability to act without emotions, “but do you honestly think we can have any hope of getting Ashley back without Google on side?”

Not to mention that without his emotional processor, none of that carefully cultivated loyalty will be loading properly. He’s too big a player to lose at this point, something that could very easily happen if his brothers manage to screw up keeping him in check, which given their current record of luck, could very well happen.

“Then we’ll need Mad to figure out that new emotional processor. Except him and Natemare have both gone missing.” Bim comments. They’ve searched the entire building more than once but there’s no sign of hide nor hair of either of them, at the worst possible moment no less.

“Of course they have.”

“In the meantime we need to-”

A dangerously exuberant voice cuts across him, “I thought I told you to stay down you pompous assho-”

They turn. Wilford stands in the doorway, having woken to find Dark disappeared and of course having walked to find where the idiot wandered off to, except now he stands in the doorway, eyes wide as his focus is entirely consumed by one of the three strangers stood to the other side of the room. Why does he look so familiar?

Dark recognises the look in his friend’s eyes.

“CODE PINK!” he shouts before he and Marvin fall to the ground, shoved down by Bim with a little bit of magic for good measure. It knocks the breath from his broken body as two shots are set off. Chaos erupts around them, Bim leaping back as he throws up a shield, having no time to figure out which direction the bullets are going.

Jackson and Wickes are stood in defence, both ready to fight but two feet before them William stands with his arms wide, blocking them. As the shots land, William grunts, curling in on himself partially calling over his shoulder.

“Wickes.”

“I got you.” Wickes calls back.

William charges, rushing at the gunman who lets off more shots. He hears but doesn’t register them, adrenaline coursing through him,  as he collides with the standing pink blur. He fights the urge to give in to the sensations, but as every time before, William draws back his fist and throws the first punch.

Beyond that he knows he’s fighting, that someone is right there, but who, what, why, it doesn’t matter. This is what he does. This is how he works. It’s what makes sense. There’s resistance, a proper fight from someone for once but details are irrelevant. Fight. That’s what he has to do.