He has no idea how he got there, and he's barely coherent - it looks like he's been in the sun and radiation for far longer than is really healthy, but there's no mistaking it. It's him. The little batch of new Killjoys babble excitedly among themselves until Rattlesnake snaps at them to be quiet and find a few bottles of water. They instantly go quiet, do as she asks, and the stranger who isn't really a stranger drinks the water greedily before curling up in the backseat and falling asleep.
He'll be fine, Rattlesnake tells the rest of them. But we have a diner to visit. I know someone who will want to see him.
And that's how the group of three, plus one they absolutely knew to be dead, end up at the diner. Rattlesnake checks the backrooms, brushing her hair out of her face, calling out for Show Pony, Dr. D, or any of the others who might recognize the newcomer. ]
[The nights are either busy with life or still as death--it's never both, always the fine line of chaos and peace, everything uncertain even with the perpetual tension in the air. As far along as the night had come in that exact moment and as still as the winds had been, she was beginning to think that the hours would drag on endlessly till the morning sun made the skies that sickish hue of orange and green. It's a night she would rather be out on her bike, patrolling the zones but instead she's watching the levels and listening to the silent static over the waves for a call, for anything. Show Pony and Dr. D had a nasty habit of leaving her behind lately and while she was not exactly sure why, it had become mildly annoying from her perspective: an eager one, one that never had held still easily.
Later she would be thanking them for giving her the order to keep her feet nailed to the floor.
She's digging around for a pack of cigarettes when she hears the sound of a voice. Pulling her hands back from fumbling around the organized mess that the good doctor kept precariously stacked she slides off the corner of the surface and heads towards the open door where she looks out from around the corner, whistling to grab the girls attention when she's passes.]
[ Rattlesnake pauses when she hears the whistle, glances over her shoulder. She doesn't often smile, but right now? She definitely is. She thinks she knows how the Girl is going to react to this, and it'll be a nice lift for everybody. If they can get just one of the heroes back, it's enough. ]
I have something for you. [ She crooks her finger. ] Come here. To the front.
[Heroes is a broad enough term to encompass all of them and she's been telling their stories since she got back to the zones, since she slipped out of her stage of silence about the whole ordeal. It had taken awhile but she knew that sharing their adventures with the other and incoming Killjoys was better than keeping them tucked inside. Still, when Rattlesnake smiles she's not sure what to think about it because surprises are something that people differ in opinion on.
Looking to the frequencies she bites her bottom lip for a moment and worries the flesh between her teeth before moving through the hall, a few long strides of a jog to catch up with her.] I swear if it's like the last surprise you had for me, I'm punchin' you square in the face.
[A warning glance then the smile is quietly returned before she moves on.]
[ That makes Rattlesnake flash the other something more of a smirk, though it's subtle. ] You know me. I never give the same surprise twice. [ She'll lead the other Killjoy out from the maze of backrooms, reaching to pull her hair down and over her shoulder. Running her fingers through it to get rid of knots, Rattlesnake continues. ] I will warn you to remember to breathe, though.
[ And then they reach the front of the diner.
There, at one of the tables, is Fun Ghoul. He's missing his vest, his normal clothes, dressed in ripped, white, BLI-esque fabric. He looks confused, like he has no idea how he got here; his hair is buzzed short, and he looks older, more worn than he used to. Like he never actually died. He's staring at his hands, at the blank skin devoid of tattoos, gnawing on his bottom lip.
Rattlesnake steps to the side, goes quiet, and watches. ]
[The last thing on her face that Rattlesnake would see was a flash of uncertainty at her last comment, then she turns and she looks out that door that leads into a room of so many fond memories--a room that was always haunting to pass through she suddenly forget that breathing was even possible. The breath that she sucks in is audible but she does not exhale as time slows down, time slows down and all that comes to mind is a voice and a smile.
(Hey, baby girl)
She can't breathe, she can't think because it's like stepping into a dream, but this dream is just a nightmare because while she can see so much familiarity in the figure before her, the mind rebels because no--he should be dead, this isn't him, it can't be, he is a void, a shell of what he used to be--no (Hey yourself. What's fresh on the air today?) he's dead, she watched him fall being pulled away from trying to go back after him (Just waiting for the call from Dr. D, Ponyboy's got the orders in transit).]
No-- [Is the only word that slips out of her mouth, it's not a command to anyone, only to herself as she finally breathes, taking a step forward and pushing aside a 'joy in her path, a hand to the shoulder and she almost stumbles forward as she reaches the table, looking down at him, hands itching to just reach out and grab hold of him and never let go because fuck reality, fuck things being said, what happened in life and death. Quietly though, almost still, almost unsure she slips down next to him in the seat, these familiar walls.]
[ Rattlesnake lets out a low whistle, and the other 'joys filter out of the room. She follows, with one last glance at the two at the table. She leaves them alone.
He's caught up in his thoughts, because they're a fucking jumble of mixed up, contradicting ideas and feelings. Feelings. It's been so long since he's felt anything. There's gun shots, laser blasts echoing in his mind, the sound of shattering glass and a door slamming shut behind him. Screams from all sides (No, Ghoul!) and hot, sharp flashes of pain in his chest. The sound of glass crunching under him, white walls with black soot, the only remains left of the Dangercrew.
And then it's fuzzy. Blank. Dull. How long has he been under? It's like going through detox all over again, his hands are shaking and his head hurts, and he doesn't feel like he's had enough water ever in his life. This is what withdrawal feels like, he knows it, because he's done it before. Came off those blanking out meds, escaped into the desert with his colors bleeding out. He's getting his mind back, himself back. But nothing is right. Because he woke up in a desert, with no sense of time, with no tattoos, no nothing. His skin is blank and it's freaking him right the fuck out, because -- (Calm down, Mr. Jones, they have to be removed. You cannot be a functioning member of society with these unsightly things, now can you...)
-- And Jesse nearly jumps out of his skin when she sits next to him. She calls him Ghoul. That was his name. Right? Except it's not, it hasn't been for years -- ] That's -- that is not my name. That isn't. [ His eyes are wide, expression startled, almost a little panicked. Everything is so confusing right now and this young woman in front of him feels familiar, like he should know her somehow. But he can't think. ]
[With the sound of footsteps quietly exiting the room, the Girl looks upward to watch the backs of the others disappear before remaining in the silence. Shifting her glance to the top of the table, scattered with empty cans and newspaper clippings, she felt her heart jump up into her throat. It was that point where she didn’t really know how to react because there were so many emotions fighting to surface first. Right now it was shock, disbelief and the quiet twitch in the back of her mind that there was no way this could be real. The entire feeling made her forgot how to breathe again, those breaths that did catch her lungs heavy and shaken. It reminded of night terrors, issues she had been experiencing more often as of late; the dreams so vivid that she would wake up in the middle of the desert screaming.
Screaming for them.
She couldn’t look at him for that time they sat in silence, till he spoke again. Then she brought her gaze to his face slowly, watching him. Everything should be handled carefully but she was not sure how long she could keep composed. Brows furrowing slightly she exhaled a heavy breath (how do you find a name in the first place?) and folded her hands on the tables surface.
(it just comes to yah hairball, but don’t rush it.)] Yeah?
[Her voice cracked slightly before she cleared her throat.] What is it now then? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure the last time we were face t’ face it was Fun Ghoul.
[ He can't remember much of anything when he sleeps. He knows he has to dream, the others in Battery City tell him that he's supposed to, but he can never remember anything from the night before. He has to, because sometimes when he wakes up, he's tired, like he's been running all night. Like his dreams are there but being suppressed. Like there are things there that he can remember about color and love and music, and the medication's hiding them away. Jesse scrubs at his face with his hands, breathing in deeply. ]
That's -- it's not supposed to be my name. I'm not supposed to answer to that. [ It comes out like a pre-recorded message, words he's been fed rather than came up with himself. He pauses, and says quietly, looking up at her nervously: ] It's Jesse. My name is Jesse. That's what it's always been, and I'm not supposed to...
[ His head aches, and he coughs, wincing. ] But I used to be that. [ It comes out hurriedly, like he knows he's not supposed to say it and he's saying anyway. ] I used to have a family, I used to -- it used to be me and Party and Kobra and Jet and -- and our Girl. [ He isn't thinking straight at all, coming off the medication and getting used to seeing without the haze, and he's not even sure where he is. He flinches back, like he's anticipating pain for saying what he said.
Reintegration therapy is usually pretty effective, back in Battery City. ]
[Coming off the chemicals that the city shoved down citizens throats was never an easy task, there was always withdrawal. It was never pretty and less appealing to watch someone go through it. Sometimes with new recruits that wanted to break away, some could handle it, some couldn’t and escaped back into the façade of loving arms that BLI had held open for them. This face though, this delightfully familiar face, she was beginning to wonder how long he had been away from the pills, the therapy because he was handling this in a stage four manner, not a stage two or one.
The lies he’s been fed are sick, a mistake, but she listens--reaching down to pick up a bottle of water to the side and place it in front of the other. Attention snapping too when he drops the robot act, watching his face carefully she allows the silence to linger a little after he's done. Her voice is level and she tries to keep her expression equally so though a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. It’s bittersweet, but the wince the admission draws from Ghoul makes her stomach turn and heart clench.] Sounds like a pretty sweet set-up, this family.
Mister Star and all his worldly know how. Kobra’s kung-fu magic, then Party’s sweet moves, the way he takes t’ the asphalt—like he learned t’ drive before he walked. [She leans back in the seat and picks at the corner where the top is recoiling against the heat stain.]
Asides, you don’t look like a Jesse t’ me. It’s a little too plain for a man like you.
[ A while, is the answer to that question, he's been off them a while. His hands are shaking enough to make opening the bottle of water a challenge, but a hint of his old stubbornness leaks through. He'll get the damn thing open by himself or die trying. And he does, with a slightly satisfied look, before drinking.
When he sets the bottle back down, he listens to her talk. She has to be a Killjoy, he thinks, studying her carefully. The water helps clear out the haze a little, and even if he's still confused, still a little too off from being drugged to hell for years, he's beginning to realize what's going on. This is the diner. This is a Killjoy, in front of him, and she looks familiar, in a weird way. ]
I haven't... I haven't been, in a long time. [ He frowns. ] Years? Has... has it been years? You're a Killjoy -- I don't know if my family is even... still alive. [ His speech is as disjointed as his thoughts, and he frowns even more deeply, staring at his arms again. ]
They took my colors away from me. They erased them. [ He looks up at her again. ] You're a Killjoy. How long has it been?
[The disjointed speech, the problems formulating the complete thought process, everything about it she could handle but the moment he talks about his colors, she turns to him completely, facing him as she tucks a leg up into the seat of the booth. She wants to reach out to him, wants to grab hold of him but instead to prevent any fast moves that might throw him off she reaches up and idly flips the whistles around her neck between her fingers--keep busy. It takes a moment for her to open her mouth; she simply just stares at him and tries not to get mad, tries not to think about what that damn city has done to him, done to her--what they’ve put upon everyone fighting it out in the zones, just simply for freedom.
It’s heartbreaking listening to him and with all the strength she can summon she’s pushing away the threat of tears that make her eyes seem glossy, pinpricks building in the corners of her eyes. Her voice sounds harsh but it’s because he doesn’t need that stress right now, to know how long it had been. She knows, she knows it’s been nearly ten years and for someone who really never kept track of time unless necessary, someone who really didn’t even know how old she was, it was a feat.
She could never forget that day though. Ever.] Does it matter how long it’s been?
Really doesn’t. I can tell you that and what I can also tell you is that no one can ever take your colors away from you. [The severity thickens for that moment and she stares at him straight on.] Those colors are yours. No one can pull somethin’ from your heart, doesn’t matter what’s on your sleeve, doesn’t matter what’s on your skin.
Your colors are who you are, and I can tell you straight that you’re colors ain’t city white. Your family all had their colors, wore ‘em proud and no matter where they are right now you bring ‘em all hope to wear ‘em again by comin’ back home.
[ The tense atmosphere only gets more so when she speaks, and Jesse looks up at her, slightly startled by the harshness in her tone. And by her expression -- he might be a little more worn than he used to be, but he's always been a good judge of expression. She's trying not to cry, and he doesn't understand, but -- he's so distracted, everywhere at once, that he can only half pay attention to that if he wants to hear her words.
It doesn't matter how long it's been. That's true enough, and Jesse exhales slowly. It doesn't matter. They didn't take his colors, they just covered them up. He wants them back. And if he wants them back enough, he can have them. He doesn't have to be dull, city-white -- he can come back to this. He could -- but he's not sure he wants to. His family... his family, he needs them, and he always has, and if they're all dead, he doesn't want it. He'll go back to the city willingly.
There's a long pause, and he looks back at her, gripping the table. ]
I don't want it if I don't got them. [ He says it truthfully, and the pain of the idea that his family could be all gone, not just his brothers but his Girl, shows up on his face. ] Sorry, miss, it just isn't -- it ain't the same. They're -- they're dead, they ain't --
[ Oh, god, saying it out loud -- his expression breaks, and he goes back to staring at the floor. ] Dunno how long it's been, dunno if Jet or my Girl made it, Party n' Kobra dead, thought I was dead -- Curse might -- might as well be --
I can't fucking think! [ He says it in frustration, and the cursing feels good. He hasn't said that word in years. They took so much from him. His gaze goes back to the other Killjoy. ] ... Tell me she made it, at least.
[The admittance was not unexpected but at the same time it hit her hard, like a slap across the face because the idea of him going back to that damn city just because the unit wasn't around was a hard enough pill to swallow. It hurt for her every day to not be with them, to know that even though killjoys never die--it was all metaphorical because she and many others wouldn't let them. So Ghoul would just give it up, he would give in, throw in the towel just because he was alone?
He had no idea of her conscious heartbreak in all of this. Waking up every morning to know that when she walked out into the diner none of them would be there even though in her dreams she replayed that scene almost every night. Show Pony and Dr. D were fantastic, they were wonderful, sweet, supportive and attentive to her as family, like blood but they were not her boys. The whole thing, Ghoul's entire confession spiked the pressure in her blood because it made her mad he would throw in the towel just like that.
The change was obvious in her face but she knew she had to be understanding even though she looked away and brought her hand up like she would slam it down upon the table, only to gently rest it palm down. The entire time he spoke she kept her eyes down, even to the last comment. At that point, she had no choice--even if she felt it might be better to keep it from till he was a little more stable, a little more sure of himself. If it might keep him here, then so be it. So silence persists for a moment before she speaks, free hand reaching up under her scarf to tug sharply at the chain of whistles that she loosens in the motion.] Yeah.
[Comes the reply as she moves to lay the item on the table and slide them towards him, eyes drifting up to watch his face as she bites back so many emotions that threaten to fall through.] Yeah, Ghoul.
[ He's not even sure how he got out here, or why he is. And it's been so long that he feels like even if his Girl was alive, she'd be angry with him, that he's been alive this whole time and he didn't come back to her. That none of them did. And she is angry, but for a completely different reason. Ghoul just can't. He doesn't have anything to fight for anymore, is so tired and has been so alone for so long that he can't find the effort he needs.
Until right now.
Because the Killjoy across the table pulls the chain of whistles from around her neck and slides them over to him, and he stares at the necklace, expression blank. She survived. His Girl, their Girl, got out, kept on, and she's right in front of him.
The feeling that rises in his chest hurts because it's so strong, so loud and sudden. He hasn't felt anything this intense for years and now it's right here, right now, and -- those are tears, rising up behind his eyes. Of course it's her. Of course she survived. She's right here and he didn't even recognize her, and he actually stands, pulls himself up, even though he has no idea what he's going to do next. ]
Sunspot. [ He recognizes you now, Girl. That was enough to lift the rest of the haze. ]
[The silence is deafening in a way and it feels heavy, it makes her feel tense because she's not sure how the other will react to the news and so watching his face is almost as painful as the silence. It's painful until there is a spark, there is familiarity and the tears that rise in his gaze that she watches so intently is unable to hold back the mist of sorrow and overwhelming happiness all at once. Her breaths speed up, her shoulders tense as he rises to stand and watches him for a moment until that familiar nickname rolls of his lips and it's a done deal, it's sealed.
There is no way that she can hold back, there is no stopping her now because everything, every reason has lost sense with him standing before her but she doesn't care, doesn't care in that moment how long it's been, doesn't care how she's changed, how he's changed but two out of five is better than one standing alone so after a moment of failing to compose herself she pushes herself up and immediately her arms are around him. She's pulling him close, she's holding him tight and she's not letting go now that she has him here.
Burying her head against his shoulder she grasps at what she can, a hand on his back fingers wrapping tight around what material is there, another on the back of his neck where that long hair had been and maybe she's crying, but that is enough she can share with him because she didn't share it with anyone else, rarely even shed a tear with her crew before this happened.
Words barely catch formation as she speaks, sucking in a breath through a sob.] You gotta stay now.
Don't you see? You can't leave me again, you just can't.
No no no, shh shh. [ It's like riding a bike. He settles right back down into the way he used to be, voice going a bit rough, arms slipping around her. She's still here, she's grown up, and he didn't get to see it and wasn't there for her, but it doesn't matter. He's here right now, and she's right, he can't leave her again.
He won't.
Ghoul rests a hand against the back of her head and holds her close, closes his eyes, listening to her sob. She's been strong, and he knew she would be, he knew she'd keep on going, and he knew it'd be hard. Hell, Ghoul knows how it feels, though definitely not for as long as her. He'd been ready to give in -- he's just simply not a creature who can exist by himself. ]
M'not leaving you again, promise, baby. [ He kisses the side of her head, voice choked up. ] Shh, shhh. You grew up. S'been a long time -- I'm so sorry, I didn't --
Don't apologize--just don't. [It feels so natural, to be this close to him again. It's not an awkward reunion in the least, it's so close to everything she every wanted in her life. So have them back, even one of them, was some sort of twisted miracle that got lost in the copies of life, the order, chewed up and spit out again because it hadn't been time, there was more to be done.
Whatever it was, she leaned a little more against him, turning her head to the side to face him more, her grip shifting just slightly but not letting go, not just yet. Yeah, she grew up but in her heart she was always their girl, no matter what size, what maturity. Even now though, even grown up she didn't know how to react to this completely, what to say.
Just mumbling, keeping the words between them as she tried to keep her voice even, dragging a hand around to cup the side of his face. He was warm and he was real and please, don't let this be a dream.] Don't gotta apologize for anything, you did what you had to do, you didn't know.
You didn't, all that matter's is you're still standing, and you're standin' where your feet belong.
[ She's so much taller than she used to be, and it's throwing him off. He's just... not used to it. The last time he saw her she was half his height. Holding her tightly, Ghoul nods a little, keeping close to her. He doesn't have to apologize, even if he does -- he just won't do it right now. But it'll pop up every once in a while. He thinks she probably knows that anyway. ]
Right. Right, right, yeah -- yeah, m'here. [ After a long moment he pulls away just slightly to look her over, because he hasn't gotten enough of a good look. It's not more than arms length. ] Sunspot, babydoll. You grew up. [ He breathes. ] D'you gotta name now? Did you ever pick?
You gotta -- you have t'fill me in. [ He bites his lip a little. ]
[When he pulls away she doesn't really want to let go and the hold lingers for a moment long before she allows him to slip a little out of her grip, hands sliding back and while one halts on his forearm, another draws up to push away the wetness upon her face, fairly certain she doesn't like crying in front of anyone because of how messy it is, makes you seem.] Grew up? Depends on what you mean by that--I don't think I'll ever be able t' do completely grow up so I promise you're not lookin' at much.
[It draws a small laugh out of her, a mildly sarcastic one but she's never been able to shed that childish air, playful nature that's been dampened but lingered in her actions. She could hide it, but she knew that there were some things she could help--that everyone around here was still a kid in one way or another. The name though, the concept of the name, she looks away for a moment and brings that single hand to the back of her neck with a small shrug of her shoulders.
This was more nerve wracking--names, they were particular and she was never sure if the one she had settled on was something they would like, which is why she never really completely made a choice in her mind, truly.] My name? I--
I dunno, it's nothin' solid, couldn't ever really settle. [Without them around.] Got things I call myself every now an' then, got things people call me. I mean, there's a lot t' fill you in on but you're my priority right now, Ghoul.
You're my focus. I'll get you anything you need, anything within reason.
[ He doesn't mind her crying. Never has, always encouraged it if she needed it. He knows she's like him in that respect, not wanting to show the weakness, but sometimes it just has to happen. Ghoul's not willing to be too far away from her, resting his hands on her arms and giving her a small smile when she laughs like she does. ]
You're grown up enough, shh. Tall as me, now. [ But he knows she's still the same Girl from before. He listens to her talk about her name, brush over it like it's not important, and he frowns a little, wanting to ask why that is -- names had always been one of the most important parts of this, for him. But she continues and Ghoul shakes his head. ]
You don't gotta get me anything. Maybe -- maybe more water, but I mostly just gotta know what happened while I was gone. [ He also needs to sit down, because he is just the tiniest bit dizzy. Pause. ] ... Forgot how good it is to be called that. Ghoul.
[ Runs a hand through his hair. ] Sit down with me, sunspot, I wanna hear about things. What's gone down while -- while I was away?
[Sniffling, she slides her hand back from her neck and over her eyes once more, trying to keep all the emotions at bay even if she feels like collapsing at the weight of this train wreck of mental fuckery. Just, she needed to focus that she was here, was alive and breathing and she hadn't lost her mind, wasn't going to wake up in the middle of the desert with Show Pony shaking her awake. So watching him, she drops her hand down to pat one of his, squeezing his forearm with the other.] Bet you all wish you would've cropped me off at the knees when you had the chance. Still, water's somethin' I can do.
[It's a quiet memory of Party but it's well placed before she gives another squeeze to the others arm to pull away and reach behind the seats in the diner to dig around in some milk crates where she tugs out another bottle of water, not minding tossing all her rations at him if she had to.] Things though, depends on what kind of things because lots of them have been hittin' the air these last few turns of the sun, the bad, the good.
[Shifting to listen to his request, waiting for him to take a seat before sitting down next to him and placing the water before him, she spoke quietly.] Maybe we should start with a point and branch out cause otherwise I'm gonna be talkin' for fuckin' hours.
[ He smiles a little when she mentions Party's words in passing. He can remember him saying that, and it makes his heart clench up in his chest -- but he ignores it the best he can. There's no way to know if Party Poison (or any of the others, really) are alive at all. So he doesn't think about it. And he won't, until it's eating him up inside. ]
Yeah. Thanks, ladybug, yer a lifesaver. [ He takes that water, gulps down a bit of it and then carefully lowers himself down into the booth. Dizzy. He's fighting off that and how sleepy he is, because he needs to hear what's been going on in his absence - it has to be at least eight, nine years? His Girl's a lady, now, it has to be around that. ]
Tell me 'bout you. Everythin' that's been happening with you. You gotta have contacts -- Show Pony. Dr. D, any others. How many're out here anymore?
[For her it's necessary, to throw them all into her day to day in small ways like that. It keeps her sane, keeps her focused. Yeah it hurts, not she's gotten used to it, telling their stories, talking about them to anyone who asks. Quietly though, she watches him sit down, leaning back into the seat--keeping a close eye because he looks tired, he looks worn but if he's just as stubborn as he was in the past he's not going to admit that.] I don't like talkin' 'bout myself much and everythings a long time t’ talk, but for you I'll give it s shot.
[She took up the necklace she had removed before and reached up to place it around her neck once more, securing it as she spoke, tucking it under a scarf.] After everything went down in the city I kept cozy at the station, kept near Pony and the Doctor. I remember, um-- [She dropped her hands back down before folding them on the table.]
Remember sittin’ with them in the wires. There were clusters that wanted t' to play the revenge game, said the whole thing was somethin’ more t’ fight for but D didn’t really support it, said that it wasn’t about that--the whole thing, everything that happened. Not everyone listened, some took the chance, some went in, some didn’t come back out again it’s just how it passed.
[Fingers shifting across the table she picked at the same spot she had focused on before, a habit, not being able to keep still because talking about it all made her nervous, like she didn’t do enough while they were gone.] I kept close t’ base for the next few rotations, got to know people, people I’d never met before. Since then I focused on the networkin’ scheme, once I got a hold of transportation of m’ own they couldn’t really keep me nailed t’ the floor as much as they’d like so I spread out, tryin’ to figure out who is who, who’s doin’ what, who is still around. I’ve got contacts t’ spare; I’ve got double agents, I’ve got one or two permanents on the outskirts of the city, I’ve got ‘joys but the issue is keepin’ ‘em.
[She pauses then looks to meet his face.] It’s BL, Ghoul. They’re diggin’ their nails in, it’s their monopoly and the longer people stay there, the harder it is t’ get ‘em to come out. It’s like it’s in the water there, like a sickness.
[ Ghoul settles back, listening and trying not to fall asleep on her. He'd feel terrible if he did. And besides, he needs this information, if he's going to get back into all of this. It's a long story, but he nods when she pauses, keeps his eyes on her as she talks. If he knows his Girl, he knows she would've handled the upset the way she handled everything else upsetting -- quietly, without fuss. He knows she hasn't talked about it.
The fact that there are less Killjoys around now, that BLI is trying to pull everybody back in -- that's upsetting to hear. There aren't leaders anymore, there's no face of the rebellion, and Ghoul frowns. ]
I don't remember a lot from when I was in there. [ He sighs, looking up at the ceiling. ] Wish I did. But m'willing t'bet they kept me a secret. Don't want people knowin' I'm alive. Give 'em hope.
But looks like you're doin' a good job though, sunspot. [ He offers a small smile. ] Better than us. We were just a gang. You got a small army, y'know? [ He curls up against the wall. ] We'll figure it out. Don't wanna sound cocky, but m'thinking the more people know I ain't dead, the more we'll get.
[ He pauses, and glances away. After a hesitant pause: ] Hey uh -- did y'ever get t'know anybody named Counter Curse? Just. Outta curiosity.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
✘ all thick and dull, all gravel and glass
He has no idea how he got there, and he's barely coherent - it looks like he's been in the sun and radiation for far longer than is really healthy, but there's no mistaking it. It's him. The little batch of new Killjoys babble excitedly among themselves until Rattlesnake snaps at them to be quiet and find a few bottles of water. They instantly go quiet, do as she asks, and the stranger who isn't really a stranger drinks the water greedily before curling up in the backseat and falling asleep.
He'll be fine, Rattlesnake tells the rest of them. But we have a diner to visit. I know someone who will want to see him.
And that's how the group of three, plus one they absolutely knew to be dead, end up at the diner. Rattlesnake checks the backrooms, brushing her hair out of her face, calling out for Show Pony, Dr. D, or any of the others who might recognize the newcomer. ]
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Later she would be thanking them for giving her the order to keep her feet nailed to the floor.
She's digging around for a pack of cigarettes when she hears the sound of a voice. Pulling her hands back from fumbling around the organized mess that the good doctor kept precariously stacked she slides off the corner of the surface and heads towards the open door where she looks out from around the corner, whistling to grab the girls attention when she's passes.]
Snake.
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I have something for you. [ She crooks her finger. ] Come here. To the front.
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Looking to the frequencies she bites her bottom lip for a moment and worries the flesh between her teeth before moving through the hall, a few long strides of a jog to catch up with her.] I swear if it's like the last surprise you had for me, I'm punchin' you square in the face.
[A warning glance then the smile is quietly returned before she moves on.]
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[ And then they reach the front of the diner.
There, at one of the tables, is Fun Ghoul. He's missing his vest, his normal clothes, dressed in ripped, white, BLI-esque fabric. He looks confused, like he has no idea how he got here; his hair is buzzed short, and he looks older, more worn than he used to. Like he never actually died. He's staring at his hands, at the blank skin devoid of tattoos, gnawing on his bottom lip.
Rattlesnake steps to the side, goes quiet, and watches. ]
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(Hey, baby girl)
She can't breathe, she can't think because it's like stepping into a dream, but this dream is just a nightmare because while she can see so much familiarity in the figure before her, the mind rebels because no--he should be dead, this isn't him, it can't be, he is a void, a shell of what he used to be--no (Hey yourself. What's fresh on the air today?) he's dead, she watched him fall being pulled away from trying to go back after him (Just waiting for the call from Dr. D, Ponyboy's got the orders in transit).]
No-- [Is the only word that slips out of her mouth, it's not a command to anyone, only to herself as she finally breathes, taking a step forward and pushing aside a 'joy in her path, a hand to the shoulder and she almost stumbles forward as she reaches the table, looking down at him, hands itching to just reach out and grab hold of him and never let go because fuck reality, fuck things being said, what happened in life and death. Quietly though, almost still, almost unsure she slips down next to him in the seat, these familiar walls.]
Ghoul.
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He's caught up in his thoughts, because they're a fucking jumble of mixed up, contradicting ideas and feelings. Feelings. It's been so long since he's felt anything. There's gun shots, laser blasts echoing in his mind, the sound of shattering glass and a door slamming shut behind him. Screams from all sides (No, Ghoul!) and hot, sharp flashes of pain in his chest. The sound of glass crunching under him, white walls with black soot, the only remains left of the Dangercrew.
And then it's fuzzy. Blank. Dull. How long has he been under? It's like going through detox all over again, his hands are shaking and his head hurts, and he doesn't feel like he's had enough water ever in his life. This is what withdrawal feels like, he knows it, because he's done it before. Came off those blanking out meds, escaped into the desert with his colors bleeding out. He's getting his mind back, himself back. But nothing is right. Because he woke up in a desert, with no sense of time, with no tattoos, no nothing. His skin is blank and it's freaking him right the fuck out, because -- (Calm down, Mr. Jones, they have to be removed. You cannot be a functioning member of society with these unsightly things, now can you...)
-- And Jesse nearly jumps out of his skin when she sits next to him. She calls him Ghoul. That was his name. Right? Except it's not, it hasn't been for years -- ] That's -- that is not my name. That isn't. [ His eyes are wide, expression startled, almost a little panicked. Everything is so confusing right now and this young woman in front of him feels familiar, like he should know her somehow. But he can't think. ]
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Screaming for them.
She couldn’t look at him for that time they sat in silence, till he spoke again. Then she brought her gaze to his face slowly, watching him. Everything should be handled carefully but she was not sure how long she could keep composed. Brows furrowing slightly she exhaled a heavy breath (how do you find a name in the first place?) and folded her hands on the tables surface.
(it just comes to yah hairball, but don’t rush it.)] Yeah?
[Her voice cracked slightly before she cleared her throat.] What is it now then? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure the last time we were face t’ face it was Fun Ghoul.
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That's -- it's not supposed to be my name. I'm not supposed to answer to that. [ It comes out like a pre-recorded message, words he's been fed rather than came up with himself. He pauses, and says quietly, looking up at her nervously: ] It's Jesse. My name is Jesse. That's what it's always been, and I'm not supposed to...
[ His head aches, and he coughs, wincing. ] But I used to be that. [ It comes out hurriedly, like he knows he's not supposed to say it and he's saying anyway. ] I used to have a family, I used to -- it used to be me and Party and Kobra and Jet and -- and our Girl. [ He isn't thinking straight at all, coming off the medication and getting used to seeing without the haze, and he's not even sure where he is. He flinches back, like he's anticipating pain for saying what he said.
Reintegration therapy is usually pretty effective, back in Battery City. ]
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The lies he’s been fed are sick, a mistake, but she listens--reaching down to pick up a bottle of water to the side and place it in front of the other. Attention snapping too when he drops the robot act, watching his face carefully she allows the silence to linger a little after he's done. Her voice is level and she tries to keep her expression equally so though a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. It’s bittersweet, but the wince the admission draws from Ghoul makes her stomach turn and heart clench.] Sounds like a pretty sweet set-up, this family.
Mister Star and all his worldly know how. Kobra’s kung-fu magic, then Party’s sweet moves, the way he takes t’ the asphalt—like he learned t’ drive before he walked. [She leans back in the seat and picks at the corner where the top is recoiling against the heat stain.]
Asides, you don’t look like a Jesse t’ me. It’s a little too plain for a man like you.
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When he sets the bottle back down, he listens to her talk. She has to be a Killjoy, he thinks, studying her carefully. The water helps clear out the haze a little, and even if he's still confused, still a little too off from being drugged to hell for years, he's beginning to realize what's going on. This is the diner. This is a Killjoy, in front of him, and she looks familiar, in a weird way. ]
I haven't... I haven't been, in a long time. [ He frowns. ] Years? Has... has it been years? You're a Killjoy -- I don't know if my family is even... still alive. [ His speech is as disjointed as his thoughts, and he frowns even more deeply, staring at his arms again. ]
They took my colors away from me. They erased them. [ He looks up at her again. ] You're a Killjoy. How long has it been?
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It’s heartbreaking listening to him and with all the strength she can summon she’s pushing away the threat of tears that make her eyes seem glossy, pinpricks building in the corners of her eyes. Her voice sounds harsh but it’s because he doesn’t need that stress right now, to know how long it had been. She knows, she knows it’s been nearly ten years and for someone who really never kept track of time unless necessary, someone who really didn’t even know how old she was, it was a feat.
She could never forget that day though. Ever.] Does it matter how long it’s been?
Really doesn’t. I can tell you that and what I can also tell you is that no one can ever take your colors away from you. [The severity thickens for that moment and she stares at him straight on.] Those colors are yours. No one can pull somethin’ from your heart, doesn’t matter what’s on your sleeve, doesn’t matter what’s on your skin.
Your colors are who you are, and I can tell you straight that you’re colors ain’t city white. Your family all had their colors, wore ‘em proud and no matter where they are right now you bring ‘em all hope to wear ‘em again by comin’ back home.
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It doesn't matter how long it's been. That's true enough, and Jesse exhales slowly. It doesn't matter. They didn't take his colors, they just covered them up. He wants them back. And if he wants them back enough, he can have them. He doesn't have to be dull, city-white -- he can come back to this. He could -- but he's not sure he wants to. His family... his family, he needs them, and he always has, and if they're all dead, he doesn't want it. He'll go back to the city willingly.
There's a long pause, and he looks back at her, gripping the table. ]
I don't want it if I don't got them. [ He says it truthfully, and the pain of the idea that his family could be all gone, not just his brothers but his Girl, shows up on his face. ] Sorry, miss, it just isn't -- it ain't the same. They're -- they're dead, they ain't --
[ Oh, god, saying it out loud -- his expression breaks, and he goes back to staring at the floor. ] Dunno how long it's been, dunno if Jet or my Girl made it, Party n' Kobra dead, thought I was dead -- Curse might -- might as well be --
I can't fucking think! [ He says it in frustration, and the cursing feels good. He hasn't said that word in years. They took so much from him. His gaze goes back to the other Killjoy. ] ... Tell me she made it, at least.
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He had no idea of her conscious heartbreak in all of this. Waking up every morning to know that when she walked out into the diner none of them would be there even though in her dreams she replayed that scene almost every night. Show Pony and Dr. D were fantastic, they were wonderful, sweet, supportive and attentive to her as family, like blood but they were not her boys. The whole thing, Ghoul's entire confession spiked the pressure in her blood because it made her mad he would throw in the towel just like that.
The change was obvious in her face but she knew she had to be understanding even though she looked away and brought her hand up like she would slam it down upon the table, only to gently rest it palm down. The entire time he spoke she kept her eyes down, even to the last comment. At that point, she had no choice--even if she felt it might be better to keep it from till he was a little more stable, a little more sure of himself. If it might keep him here, then so be it. So silence persists for a moment before she speaks, free hand reaching up under her scarf to tug sharply at the chain of whistles that she loosens in the motion.] Yeah.
[Comes the reply as she moves to lay the item on the table and slide them towards him, eyes drifting up to watch his face as she bites back so many emotions that threaten to fall through.] Yeah, Ghoul.
I did.
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Until right now.
Because the Killjoy across the table pulls the chain of whistles from around her neck and slides them over to him, and he stares at the necklace, expression blank. She survived. His Girl, their Girl, got out, kept on, and she's right in front of him.
The feeling that rises in his chest hurts because it's so strong, so loud and sudden. He hasn't felt anything this intense for years and now it's right here, right now, and -- those are tears, rising up behind his eyes. Of course it's her. Of course she survived. She's right here and he didn't even recognize her, and he actually stands, pulls himself up, even though he has no idea what he's going to do next. ]
Sunspot. [ He recognizes you now, Girl. That was enough to lift the rest of the haze. ]
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There is no way that she can hold back, there is no stopping her now because everything, every reason has lost sense with him standing before her but she doesn't care, doesn't care in that moment how long it's been, doesn't care how she's changed, how he's changed but two out of five is better than one standing alone so after a moment of failing to compose herself she pushes herself up and immediately her arms are around him. She's pulling him close, she's holding him tight and she's not letting go now that she has him here.
Burying her head against his shoulder she grasps at what she can, a hand on his back fingers wrapping tight around what material is there, another on the back of his neck where that long hair had been and maybe she's crying, but that is enough she can share with him because she didn't share it with anyone else, rarely even shed a tear with her crew before this happened.
Words barely catch formation as she speaks, sucking in a breath through a sob.] You gotta stay now.
Don't you see? You can't leave me again, you just can't.
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He won't.
Ghoul rests a hand against the back of her head and holds her close, closes his eyes, listening to her sob. She's been strong, and he knew she would be, he knew she'd keep on going, and he knew it'd be hard. Hell, Ghoul knows how it feels, though definitely not for as long as her. He'd been ready to give in -- he's just simply not a creature who can exist by himself. ]
M'not leaving you again, promise, baby. [ He kisses the side of her head, voice choked up. ] Shh, shhh. You grew up. S'been a long time -- I'm so sorry, I didn't --
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Whatever it was, she leaned a little more against him, turning her head to the side to face him more, her grip shifting just slightly but not letting go, not just yet. Yeah, she grew up but in her heart she was always their girl, no matter what size, what maturity. Even now though, even grown up she didn't know how to react to this completely, what to say.
Just mumbling, keeping the words between them as she tried to keep her voice even, dragging a hand around to cup the side of his face. He was warm and he was real and please, don't let this be a dream.] Don't gotta apologize for anything, you did what you had to do, you didn't know.
You didn't, all that matter's is you're still standing, and you're standin' where your feet belong.
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Right. Right, right, yeah -- yeah, m'here. [ After a long moment he pulls away just slightly to look her over, because he hasn't gotten enough of a good look. It's not more than arms length. ] Sunspot, babydoll. You grew up. [ He breathes. ] D'you gotta name now? Did you ever pick?
You gotta -- you have t'fill me in. [ He bites his lip a little. ]
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[It draws a small laugh out of her, a mildly sarcastic one but she's never been able to shed that childish air, playful nature that's been dampened but lingered in her actions. She could hide it, but she knew that there were some things she could help--that everyone around here was still a kid in one way or another. The name though, the concept of the name, she looks away for a moment and brings that single hand to the back of her neck with a small shrug of her shoulders.
This was more nerve wracking--names, they were particular and she was never sure if the one she had settled on was something they would like, which is why she never really completely made a choice in her mind, truly.] My name? I--
I dunno, it's nothin' solid, couldn't ever really settle. [Without them around.] Got things I call myself every now an' then, got things people call me. I mean, there's a lot t' fill you in on but you're my priority right now, Ghoul.
You're my focus. I'll get you anything you need, anything within reason.
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You're grown up enough, shh. Tall as me, now. [ But he knows she's still the same Girl from before. He listens to her talk about her name, brush over it like it's not important, and he frowns a little, wanting to ask why that is -- names had always been one of the most important parts of this, for him. But she continues and Ghoul shakes his head. ]
You don't gotta get me anything. Maybe -- maybe more water, but I mostly just gotta know what happened while I was gone. [ He also needs to sit down, because he is just the tiniest bit dizzy. Pause. ] ... Forgot how good it is to be called that. Ghoul.
[ Runs a hand through his hair. ] Sit down with me, sunspot, I wanna hear about things. What's gone down while -- while I was away?
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[It's a quiet memory of Party but it's well placed before she gives another squeeze to the others arm to pull away and reach behind the seats in the diner to dig around in some milk crates where she tugs out another bottle of water, not minding tossing all her rations at him if she had to.] Things though, depends on what kind of things because lots of them have been hittin' the air these last few turns of the sun, the bad, the good.
[Shifting to listen to his request, waiting for him to take a seat before sitting down next to him and placing the water before him, she spoke quietly.] Maybe we should start with a point and branch out cause otherwise I'm gonna be talkin' for fuckin' hours.
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Yeah. Thanks, ladybug, yer a lifesaver. [ He takes that water, gulps down a bit of it and then carefully lowers himself down into the booth. Dizzy. He's fighting off that and how sleepy he is, because he needs to hear what's been going on in his absence - it has to be at least eight, nine years? His Girl's a lady, now, it has to be around that. ]
Tell me 'bout you. Everythin' that's been happening with you. You gotta have contacts -- Show Pony. Dr. D, any others. How many're out here anymore?
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[She took up the necklace she had removed before and reached up to place it around her neck once more, securing it as she spoke, tucking it under a scarf.] After everything went down in the city I kept cozy at the station, kept near Pony and the Doctor. I remember, um-- [She dropped her hands back down before folding them on the table.]
Remember sittin’ with them in the wires. There were clusters that wanted t' to play the revenge game, said the whole thing was somethin’ more t’ fight for but D didn’t really support it, said that it wasn’t about that--the whole thing, everything that happened. Not everyone listened, some took the chance, some went in, some didn’t come back out again it’s just how it passed.
[Fingers shifting across the table she picked at the same spot she had focused on before, a habit, not being able to keep still because talking about it all made her nervous, like she didn’t do enough while they were gone.] I kept close t’ base for the next few rotations, got to know people, people I’d never met before. Since then I focused on the networkin’ scheme, once I got a hold of transportation of m’ own they couldn’t really keep me nailed t’ the floor as much as they’d like so I spread out, tryin’ to figure out who is who, who’s doin’ what, who is still around. I’ve got contacts t’ spare; I’ve got double agents, I’ve got one or two permanents on the outskirts of the city, I’ve got ‘joys but the issue is keepin’ ‘em.
[She pauses then looks to meet his face.] It’s BL, Ghoul. They’re diggin’ their nails in, it’s their monopoly and the longer people stay there, the harder it is t’ get ‘em to come out. It’s like it’s in the water there, like a sickness.
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The fact that there are less Killjoys around now, that BLI is trying to pull everybody back in -- that's upsetting to hear. There aren't leaders anymore, there's no face of the rebellion, and Ghoul frowns. ]
I don't remember a lot from when I was in there. [ He sighs, looking up at the ceiling. ] Wish I did. But m'willing t'bet they kept me a secret. Don't want people knowin' I'm alive. Give 'em hope.
But looks like you're doin' a good job though, sunspot. [ He offers a small smile. ] Better than us. We were just a gang. You got a small army, y'know? [ He curls up against the wall. ] We'll figure it out. Don't wanna sound cocky, but m'thinking the more people know I ain't dead, the more we'll get.
[ He pauses, and glances away. After a hesitant pause: ] Hey uh -- did y'ever get t'know anybody named Counter Curse? Just. Outta curiosity.