angel, no, i think you come too soon

[gloryisbullshit]

Who: Killjoys
What: Death and impermanence are as good friends as ever.
Where: House 5
When: Early Day 40
Warnings: Coming back from death, so probably discussion of death/violence/self-harm. Also bad words.

He wakes up and isn't sure what time it is. He doesn't even remember going to bed. Party Poison stares at the ceiling and feels to his side for anyone there. There's no one there. When he lifts his arm, though, he sees scars. Healing scars, which seems fast. He must have passed out. They must have put him back in bed. Sitting up takes slowness, and when he touches the back of his neck he feels more jagged scars. "Christ."

Everything feels heavy: head, limbs, eyelids. But he's hungry and cold, and unsure of what time it is. He needs to see somebody. So get out of bed, come on, boy. Get out of bed. The hallway is dark with the earliness, and as chilly as being in bed. Party shuffles out, looking both ways for his boys. No one. They're asleep, must be. He can look for something to eat anyway. Just as soon as he feels like getting off the wall, he'll be on his way.

Comments

[retrograding]

At first, Jet thinks that it's Kenzi again, climbing through the window and clattering around in the room that belonged to Party. It's early, much too early for even someone like Jet to be up, but he doesn't move to get up. She can have her time to herself, and she knows the other 'joys are in bed, so if she needs them, she'll probably go to them.

Except the noise keeps on, and Jet sighs, slipping out of bed. Alright, fine. He'll just peek, just to see if it's someone breaking in. And of course, it's not someone breaking in - it's someone Jet is very much not expecting to see.

He stands in the door frame and stares down the hall at what he's about ninety-five percent sure is the back of Party Poison's head.

... He must still be dreaming.

[gloryisbullshit]

A good dream, we hope! Party turns at the soft sounds behind him, scrubs at his eyes with the hand that he's not afraid of cracking open. "Hey."

[retrograding]

A good dream, definitely! But Jet has the suspicion that it could end up terribly. They just finished with the hallucinations, after all. What if they're not really all gone?

"Out all of all the things I was expecting..." Jet says absently, watching for flickers.

[gloryisbullshit]

"I know." He grumbles, turning slowly. "It was stupid. I wasn't--man, I wasn't in my head. I don't even feel the things anymore, just...just feel kinda crazy." His arms fold over his chest, hands tucking into his armpits as he scoots closer to Jet Star. "How long was I asleep?"

[retrograding]

Asleep. Jet laughs incredulously, moving out into the hallway properly. He doesn't head to meet Party quite yet. "You were dead, Party. You still are dead, as far as I know." No beating around the bushes with his hallucinations. If he tells them they're not real, they usually leave.

[gloryisbullshit]

"I am not dead, don't fucking start. Don't." Because he's heard it before and he's broken a lot of people, places, and things over it, this is not what he wants to hear so why do we keep talking about it? "I'm not talking about Korse, I'm talking about last night."

[retrograding]

"So am I." Jet says, but his voice is less calm. And now he moves forward, stormy, almost angry. "I found you dead for a second time three days ago, Party Poison. I'd prefer it if you don't 'fucking start'."

[gloryisbullshit]

You don't see Jet angry, and you definitely don't get on the receiving end of Jet angry. Party stops short, feet planting solid in the corridor and hands balling up under his arms. "No? No, you didn't, I'm right here! I said I was sorry, don't be a shithead!" Did he apologize? He's pretty sure he did. So you can't be mad.

[retrograding]

Party really has no idea. He doesn't know what happened, and because Jet's starting to see that, he has to calm himself back down. For a moment, he just breathes, and then he pinches at the bridge of his nose, like a headache is coming on.

"With what I've seen here already, I'm not even sure if it's really you standing here," Jet mutters, dropping his hand. "When I found you, you had bled to death. Ghosted. Almost literally, really, in a move that I don't find very amusing at all, seeing as your body was gone not long after."

He doesn't care if Party tries to squirm away - Jet's going to take his arm and look at the scars there. Then manhandle Party until he can see the ones along the back of his neck.

[goodluckkobra]

Kobra sees Party and he thinks he's hallucinating again, but none of the shit he saw was any good and this isn't the same. He doesn't feel all fucked up now.

He pulls out his knife. Kenzi had said that Galen was okay, but he wouldn't put it past a clone to want to take over the life of the obviously cooler original. "... Galen?"

[gloryisbullshit]

There's someone. Party groans, rubbing at his arms and scuttling towards Kobra's voice, towards Kobra. "What? No, fucker, what're you doin?"

[goodluckkobra]

He falters for a minute, arm lowering. "Party?" It can't be. It fucking can't. Life isn't that nice to them.

[gloryisbullshit]

"Yeah, no shit. Why...?" He slows, looking up and down over his brother who is acting really fucking weird, what's up? "You okay, Kobra Kid?"

[goodluckkobra]

"You were fuckin' dead, you piece of shit." He stabs the knife into a piece of furniture and pounces on Party. He'd better like hugs.

[gloryisbullshit]

The stabbing makes him jump, no lie! He barks unhappily at being jumped too, but once he's trapped against Kobra's chest, it's the only place he needs to be. Don't say that, he means to scold, but Party just bends to be held, hands twisting into the back of Kobra's shirt.

[goodluckkobra]

Kobra has no intent to let go any time soon. He's just going to use his stringy arms to hug the ever-loving shit out of Party. "You're not allowed to leave me, goatfucker."

And then he has an amazing oh fuck moment. "I think I did something stupid."

[gloryisbullshit]

His grip tightens. "What the hell did you have time to do?"

[tooghoulforschool]

"Motherfucker, I thought I taught your scum suckin' ass a lesson already--" Oh. Well shit. That's not Logan. Which is probably for the best, because Ghoul's still feeling the bruises of that 'lesson' and his shoulder's still fucked to all hell.

Instead, he's standing in the hall face to face with a ghost. Staring him down. Feeling his chest tighten. The fuck is this supposed to be?

[gloryisbullshit]

"Why are you fuckin yelling already, it's not even bright out." The harsh words have him in goosebumps though, not a big help when he's already teetering. Party ducks his head, forgets about food. "Can I come in your room?"

[tooghoulforschool]

The fuck-- He was just-- ...

It was real. He knows it was real. His eyes search the wall for the imprint his fist made. It fucking happened. You don't hallucinate that much blood. You don't hallucinate holding that corpse until those fucking bastards take it away from you without you even knowing-- ... or maybe you do.

He nods absently, turning around and heading back in to sit on the bed with his elbows on his knees and his head bowed. Did he make the whole thing up?

[gloryisbullshit]

Party is close after him, scooting onto the bed at Ghoul's side. He goes for the blanket immediately and pulls it up over the back of his neck. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up." His head settles against Ghoul's shoulder. "I was fucked up last night."

[tooghoulforschool]

No imaginary bodies ever settled against him before. None of the hallucinated corpses ever stole his blanket. He stares at Party, incredulously.

"You wasn't even here last night." Or the night before. Or-- "They took you, P. I know they did."

[gloryisbullshit]

Party stares back at him, brow knit loosely and knees tucked to his chest. "...You still dreamin, Ghoulie?"

[tooghoulforschool]

Ghoul frowns and punches Party in the chest. "Did you feel that? I'm not dreamin'." And he's not seeing shit anymore, either. "They took you. You died. They knocked me out and took you away from me." You just let that shit sink in, Party Poison.

He scoffs. Turns away. Folds his hands over his chest. "Jet was there. Jet found you. Dead. In the bathroom. The Kid ran off... Jet went after him. It was you n' me until they took you.'

[gloryisbullshit]

Getting punched sucks! Party yelps and rocks back, rubs where Ghoul hit him. It does shut him up long enough to let him listen though, and the explanation skeeves him right the fuck out. Scooting back against the wall, Party stares at his back. "...Nah. Musta been...y'know, drugged. Somethin like--like that, musta been."