Chapter Text
Sitting across his moms at the dinner table had never been more awkward.
Not even as awkward as the evening he came home from school when he was 8, trying to avoid their disappointed stares after they had just received a phone call from the principal, explaining that Eugene had sent a swarm of mosquitos after a boy who called him a couple of names.
Eugene had claimed half-heartedly that it must’ve been someone else. Sue and Janet were not amused.
The fork in Eugene’s hand shakes as he moves his greens around, taking little bites every so often, eyes fixed on the plate in front of him. His stomach swirls with enough anxiety to make him question if he can make it through the entire meal without throwing up.
Pugsley has no such problem.
He uses his cutlery, thank god, but shovels pieces of steak into his mouth like a man starved. Sue and Janet try not to stare, but it’s difficult not to. He’s not what they thought he’d be.
It’s not like they weren’t expecting someone a little strange. After all, they had met Wednesday, and they insist they approve of her. How can they not approve of her? Eugene would’ve been completely alone without her, and it had broken their hearts during Eugene’s first year at Nevermore, when he had called every week to talk about the progress of the bees, and never once did he bring up a human friendship before she joined the Nevermore Hummers.
They clearly thought that if they could wrap their heads around her, then they could handle her little brother.
They were sorely mistaken.
Sue tries to spark a conversation, attempting to sound as natural as possible, but Eugene can sense the unease in her voice. “I hope you’re enjoying the meal, Pugsley. Do you like the meat? I wasn’t sure what type you preferred.”
“Yeah! It’s great. Not the kind I eat at home, but you’re an awesome cook.”
“What kind of meat do you usually eat? Maybe I could pop out and get some for dinner another night during your stay.”
Pugsley opens his mouth, but glances sideways at Eugene, remembering his earlier commands being repeated in his ear for an hour during the journey. One of them being the no talking about what you eat at home rule.
“That’s okay. I’m fine with whatever you have. Seriously, I’ll eat anything.” Pugsley grins, no doubt an attempt to be reassuring, but the smile comes off maniacal instead. To them, at least. “Can I have seconds?”
“Help yourself, dear,” Sue pushes the large dish in the middle of the table closer towards him with two tips of her fingers.
They fall into a silence again, broken only by the sound of Pugsley moving to get a little bit of everything. He has a healthy appetite, Eugene’ll give him that.
Janet’s the next one to try. She pipes up, attempting to start with something safe.
“How’s school been? Are you still happy at Nevermore?”
“It’s been good. Pretty uneventful so far,” Eugene replies with a shrug of his shoulders.
He knows Janet’s question isn’t random. They’ve asked about his happiness every other month, ever since the attack. He knows they mean well.
“No monsters we need to be informed about this year?” Sue says light-heartedly, hoping for the tension to ease.
“None that I know of,” Eugene answered, cutting his steak into smaller pieces. Courtesy of his braces. “School’s been fine this year. Just a lot of work.”
“Well, your studies are important,” Sue nodded, her expression soft. “But if you ever need a break, Eugene, don’t hesitate to ask your teachers for some leniency—”
“I’m fine, Mom. Really.” Eugene cuts in quickly, before this turns into yet another hour long talk about how Eugene can and should ask for help. He doesn’t need it. What happened was years ago. Nevertheless, he adds, not wanting to be rude, “Thanks, though.”
“If you say so, sweetheart.”
“Do you enjoy school, Pugsley?” Janet redirects curiously, clearly wanting to know more about the boy without overstepping.
“Oh. Uh…it’s okay, I guess.”
“Do you have a favourite subject?”
Eugene can’t help but beg internally, his grip tight around his cutlery:
Don’t say lunch. Please, please don’t say lunch.
“Well…I guess I like the sciency ones.”
Thank god.
“Oh, really? Is that something you’d like to do one day? Science?” Sue asks, grasping desperately onto the topic. Finally, something to talk about.
“Maybe. I don’t know, I haven’t really thought much about it yet.”
“He likes inventing things,” Eugene chimes in suddenly. This seems to be a gateway to safe, normal conversation, so he knows he needs to put his foot in the door. Maybe he can maintain that. Lucky for him, Sue’s eyes light up.
“Do you really? Are you good?”
“Pretty good. Not as good as my uncle Fester, but I’m getting there,” Pugsley smiled proudly.
“He’s being modest,” Eugene insists, shaking his head. “He’s made bottle rockets from scratch before.”
He thinks it best not to mention that they were made to alert them if Pugsley’s old pet zombie ran away. Which it did.
He adds quickly, “Totally harmless. They worked perfectly on the first try.”
“How impressive!” Janet exclaims, meeting Pugsley’s eyes. “You must be very talented! I’m sure not many boys your age can do anything like that from scratch!”
“Oh, it was nothing special, really,” Pugsley waves his hand, but clearly a little pleased. “Didn’t take much work.”
“What else have you made?”
Pugsley looks at Eugene for help once again. Eugene, rather unhelpfully, only kicks him under the table, urging him to say something. Rather unconvincingly, he responded while avoiding eye contact. He’s not a great liar. So he tells a half-truth.
“Mostly prototypes for stuff. Hardly worth mentioning yet, really.”
“There must be something that—”
Alright, time to shut this down. At least he tried.
“Mom, are the cookies in the tin? Can I bring them out? Looks like we’re all done,” Eugene interrupts nervously, before the discussion can take a wrong turn.
Sue looks at him questioningly, before answering. “I…yes, they’re in the tin. Help me clear the table, and then we can eat them together in the living room. We can keep having a chat.”
“I…I don’t know, Mom, it’s late. We’re pretty tired.”
It’s a lost cause and Eugene knows it.
“It’s hardly eight, Eugene! Don’t be shy. We want to get to know your boyfriend, it’s not a crime.” Janet huffs, before shifting her voice again to sound polite, glancing at Pugsley. “If that’s alright with you, of course. If you’re tired after the trip, we completely understand.”
Typical. They’ll happily ignore his pleas, but god forbid they make a guest uncomfortable. Eugene rolls his eyes.
“Sure! I’m always up for snacks after dinner,” Pugsley says eagerly, glancing towards the kitchen, clearly considering trying to find this supposed tin himself.
“Wonderful!” Sue claps her hands together, getting up and taking his plate. “Eugene, help me load the dishwasher.”
Eugene sighs, resigned, and pushes his chair back, stacking glasses and taking some of the empty plates, balancing them and heading for the kitchen.
Behind him, he hears Janet tell Pugsley, “Why don’t you follow me to the living room? They’ll come as soon as they finish up. Maybe you can tell me a little more about yourself.”
“Sure!” Pugsley stands, flashing her a bright smile.
Oh, Pugsley. Sweet, naive Pugsley.
There’s no way of Eugene protesting without looking suspicious, so with the restraint of a saint, he keeps his mouth firmly shut and follows Sue into the kitchen, setting down the dishes and opening the slightly broken-down dishwasher.
“Is something the matter, honey?”
Sue’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, his worry.
“What?” Eugene blinks, processing.
“You seem on edge.”
“I’m always on edge.”
“Okay, more than usual then.”
Eugene swallows. There’s no right answer to give. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Sue raises an eyebrow. Eugene bites his lip, before caving a little.
“What do you think of him?”
“Pugsley? He’s… got a strong personality.”
“…And?”
“Well, I’d have to know more about him to answer that. I don’t have a reason to distrust him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Eugene lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. Until Sue mutters,
“Yet.”
“Yet?”
“Yet. I’ve only known him for a couple of hours. That’s hardly enough time to get a grasp of who he is as a person.”
“Please don’t study my boyfriend,” Eugene groans, running a hand through his hair. “He’s a bit weird, but he means well. Can’t you trust me on that?”
“We just want to know if he’s good for you, Eugene, okay? We’re not waiting for him to slip up.”
They totally were. Sue knows it. Eugene knows it.
But Eugene doesn’t argue. There’s no point.
Janet certainly doesn’t expect the first words to come out of Pugsley’s mouth when they’re alone, pointing at a stray cat in the garden, to be “Have you ever thought about stuffing it?”
“What?”
“The cat. When it dies. Thought about what you’ll do with it?”
“I…she’s not ours. Neighbour’s cat.”
“Oh. When she passes, you can let me know. I’ve got family in the taxidermy business. Professionals. Highly successful.”
“I…I don’t think they’ll be interested.”
“If you say so. If they happen to need experts in the field, you’ll know who to call,” Pugsley beams brightly.
“Are you…interested in taxidermy?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it one of my favourite hobbies. Think I’ve outgrown it. I’ve seen the process though. Pretty cool. Kind of child’s play though.”
“Child’s play?”
“I mean, yeah. Think I must’ve been about 7.”
Pugsley doesn’t read the horror on her face. He doesn’t get a chance - Sue chooses that exact moment to come in with Eugene in tow, a plate of fresh cookies in her hand.
“I hope you’re comfortable here, Pugsley,” Sue says, setting the plate down in front of him on the worn coffee table, “do tell us if there’s anything we can do to make you feel more at home.”
Pugsley nods and reaches for a cookie immediately. Typical.
“Goodness, I feel like we hardly know a thing about you. It’s like Eugene’s been hiding you from us!”
Eugene’s head snaps up, eyes flickering with something akin to panic, before awkwardly laughing. “Ha! Good one, Mom.”
Sue blinks, shooting an odd look at him, before turning her attention back to Pugsley, clearly determined to finally get something out of him.
“So, how did you two… get close?”
Eugene shuts his eyes, already wishing for it to be over.
Pugsley, however, doesn’t appear fazed, answering through a mouthful of crumbled cookie, “I mean, we were already around each other all the time ‘cause we’re roommates. And I guess I always hung around the Hummers’ Shed.”
“Oh! Are you interested in beekeeping too?” Sue asks, seizing onto the answer as an opportunity for an actual conservation like it’s a lifeboat.
“Not particularly,” Pugsley shrugs. “But bees are cool. Miniature creatures that sting. Definitely my kind of bug.”
“Insect,” Eugene corrects automatically.
“Right. Insect. Apologies, my–”
Eugene swiftly kicks him on the back of his shin, hard, before Pugsley can call him something ridiculous, like his honeybee, or his firefly, or something equally outrageous. In private, he’s just about gotten used to it.
In front of his parents? Forget about it.
Sue and Janet exchange glances, the befuddlement written across their faces, alongside hesitation. Ordinarily, they’d gently scold Eugene for being rude, assaulting a guest.
But Pugsley doesn’t even flinch. Message received. His mouth immediately snaps shut.
Eugene takes it from there, straightening up. “Pugsley helped out sometimes in the Shed. And outside of that, I guess we…”
When did they spend time outside of the Shed, outside of looking after Slurp?
Now is not the time to blank, Eugene.
“..outside of that, we hung out a bit in the forest sometimes. You know, looking for insects,” he finishes lamely.
“I see.” Sue’s smile slips, and for a split second, Eugene worries they’re not fooled. They’re going to prod. But instead, Janet says what Sue’s thinking.
“I hope you don’t go in the forest often, Eugene. After what happened…”
Damn it. He shot himself in the foot with that one.
“Mom, please,” Eugene shakes his head, not wanting to start this again for the hundredth time. “There’s nowhere else to go to find them. Every other suitable habitat is too far. And I don’t go too deep.”
“But still, you never know, honey. There’s all sorts of creatures that hide in the woods–”
“I can handle myself!” Eugene exclaims, cheeks flushing in mild embarrassment.
“That doesn’t mean you recklessly go in–”
“I’m not reckless! Besides, I just told you, I usually go with Pugsley now. I’m not alone.”
“Right,” Janet crosses her arms. That thought doesn’t seem to comfort her.
There’s an uncomfortable silence. Pugsley’s the one to break it.
“If I may…” he starts tentatively, “we take precautions before we go. If it’s any reassurance…Eugene always takes his backpack with him. First-aid stuff, extra flashlights, a compass… I don’t really know everything that’s in there, but it’s definitely more than we need for an hour in the woods, ten minutes from the gates.”
“But what about your whereabouts? If no one at the school knows where you two are–”
“I usually tell Thing.”
Oh, great. Great. Pugsley, whose lies are more obvious than Pinocchio’s, is attempting to fib for him.
In theory, it’s a great idea. How are they meant to know Wednesday and Thing are off god-knows-where looking for Enid? They’re keeping it pretty quiet.
However, Eugene heavily doubts his boyfriend’s ability to pull off a lie. Any lie.
“Thing? Who’s Thing?”
“A hand. Member of my family.” Pugsley catches the puzzled looks on their faces, and clarifies, “He has consciousness.”
“Ah. Right.” Sue tries to brighten again, hiding her judgement. Disembodied body parts aren’t exactly unheard of.
Not usually common to keep them as a part of your family though.
“So…yeah, anyway,” Pugsley continues, “Thing knows where I am a lot of the time. He’s Wednesday’s closest confidante, and she usually wants to know my whereabouts nowadays, ever since–”
His breath hitches, and Eugene’s head swivels towards him, panicked. The answer lies on the tip of his tongue.
Slurp.
“Ever since what?” Janet’s eyes gleam with curiosity.
“Nothing, nothing,” Pugsley tries to play it off, feeling Eugene’s stare. “You’ve met Wednesday, right? She just…loves to know everything.”
“Ever since the kidnapping?”
“Janet!”
“Mom!”
Both Sue and Eugene gape at her, simultaneously startled and wide-eyed. Pugsley doesn’t look bothered. More…lost. How is he meant to get himself out of this one? He didn’t account for this.
“I’m sorry, I know we agreed we wouldn’t bring it up,” she says to Sue, “but it’s a valid concern! That’s where the zombie was resurrected!”
“How do you even know about Isaac?” Eugene questions, eyes narrowing.
“How can we not? Do you really think Nevermore wouldn’t have told us about that homicidal…thing on the loose? They may have told us not to worry, but when the police got involved and said it was one of the highly dangerous Willow Hill escapees–”
“But how did you know it had anything to do with Pugsley?” Eugene pushes, clearly not ready to back down. “Nevermore and the press tried to keep it all anonymous.”
That’s when they shift uncomfortably, avoiding their gazes. Great.
“Well, rumours did spread quite quickly amongst the parents,” Sue starts carefully, a hand on Janet’s wrist. Clearly wanting to approach this a bit more delicately. “A lot of your peers saw Pugsley, his parents, Wednesday…coming back from Iago Tower. A lot of assumptions were made.”
“Assumptions? What assumptions?”
“Just…it’s silly, really. Just talk.”
“Talk about what?”
“Talk. It’s nothing to dwell on. A lot of us were just…concerned, when Pugsley’s family came back. Concerned by the state they returned in.”
“Really? Concerned?”
“And I suppose we were a little…curious, too. About how that… thing got out in the first place. We just thought–”
“You just decided to pin it all on them?” Eugene cuts in, his voice hard. “You just…what, immediately jumped and assumed they were behind it?”
“What were we supposed to think, Eugene?” Janet cuts in, her voice high with frustration. “It was a reasonable jump to make!”
“It wasn’t! It’s not! It’s unfair!”
“But it’s true, isn’t it? He’s the reason it got out in the first place!”
“It was a mistake!”
“It killed people, Eugene! Does that not matter to you? It killed people because he brought it back to life!”
The air goes still. Eugene doesn’t have a comeback – what can he possibly say?
That he knows? He knows Isaac killed people, and it doesn’t really weigh on him?
How can he tell his parents that he became numb to darkness years ago? From the second the Hyde ripped into his skin, he’s been unsurprised by the nature of the world? That he’s no longer twelve and carefree?
He looks to his side. For a moment, he completely forgot Pugsley was there, watching it all, allowing them to talk about him like he wasn’t even in the room.
For once, he doesn’t look ready to crack a joke. He doesn’t look prepared to chime in at all. He’s got a look on his face Eugene can’t read, almost…contemplative.
He doesn’t appear to have any desire to argue, to defend himself against everything being thrown at him.
It strengthens Eugene’s resolve to speak up for him.
“Were you ever going to give him a chance?” Eugene asks them bitterly, his arms crossed as he turns his gaze back to them. “Did you ask me to bring him here, knowing you’d disapprove?”
“Of course not, honey,” Sue softens, reaching a hand out with the clear intention of meeting his own, but thinking better of it and moving it back. “We just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t–”
“Dangerous?” Eugene interrupts again, unable to help himself. “He’s not.”
Unbelievably, that gets a sound out of Pugsley. Almost akin to a snort. No doubt when they’re alone, he’ll try to insist that he really is dangerous, and demonstrate by nearly setting his curtains on fire.
It’s happened before.
“Why don’t we have this conversation in private?” Sue tries, as if that’ll accomplish anything. As if the ugliest accusations haven’t been aired out to Pugsley in the open already.
Or who knows, maybe Eugene’s wrong again. Maybe they have worse things to say.
He doesn’t really care anymore.
“No thanks.” Eugene stands abruptly, having had enough. “I’m tired. We haven’t rested at all since we got here. We should go to bed.”
“We haven’t even talked about where he’ll sleep–”
“Pugsley will sleep in my room. The door’ll be open three inches.” Eugene says decisively, before extending a hand to Pugsley, who silently takes it and stands.
At least someone knows not to test him right now.
“Eugene–” Sue starts softly.
“Goodnight.”
Eugene drags Pugsley towards the stairs—not that he needs to. Pugsley goes willingly. Surprisingly, still doesn’t say a word. Not even when they step into the room. He sets himself down on the edge of Eugene’s bed, not taking his eyes off of him for a second as Eugene goes to his terrarium.
Eugene lifts his hand, his palm open. The beetles inside settle under the makeshift caves, where the shadows linger. At least they’ll get to have a good night’s sleep.
“I didn’t mean to start an argument.”
Eugene swallows. At least Pugsley's finally said something. Unfortunately, he's said something idiotic.
“You didn’t start the argument,” Eugene shakes his head, hands gripping the edge of the table. “You did everything right.”
“I did?”
“You listened to me.”
“I tried to lie for you, and that’s when it all went wrong.”
“I appreciate you trying,” Eugene sighs, briefly taking off his glasses to rub an eye. “Seriously. It was worth a shot.”
“Do I still need to avoid talking about Slurp? Or anything to do with being kidnapped? Or–”
“I don’t know, Pugsley. Okay? I don’t know.”
Eugene swivels on his feet and makes his way to flop down on the bed next to him. He turns over onto his back, head on the pillow, curling up into a ball.
He forgot what his own bed felt like.
“Okay,” Pugsley accepts quietly, unsure how to proceed. “So now what?”
“Now you come here and lie down. And stop talking. I just…don’t want to think right now.”
Pugsley shrugs and settles down next to him, turning so they’re lying face-to-face. He offers out an arm, which Eugene slips into without thinking. Maybe under normal circumstances, he’d roll his eyes or push back a little. Maybe he wouldn’t go so willingly.
But he’s so tired, and Pugsley’s presence is so inviting.
And these aren’t normal circumstances. His moms don’t like his boyfriend. Sure, he pictured it going a little south. He didn’t think they’d start implying Pugsley was dangerous to his face.
Maybe they didn’t mean any harm. He knows they can be a little tone-deaf. And to be fair, Pugsley doesn’t take offense like a normal person, so he knows Pugsley isn’t bothered.
But a small part of Eugene is bothered. He truly hoped deep down, that nothing would go wrong tonight.
He tugs up the blanket bunched near the foot of the bed, draping it over them. It’s always handy to have a bit of extra warmth when in the same bed as Pugsley.
“Thanks for being…cool about all this.” Eugene murmurs against the crook of his neck. “My moms can be…hard to swallow.”
“I’m always cool,” Pugsley grins, his hand settling in Eugene’s curls.
Eugene weakly pushes against his chest, before settling against him again. “You’re not.”
“I really don’t think tonight was that bad.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. Just…it’s fine. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
“We’ll deal with it.” Pugsley claims confidently.
“No. I will.” Eugene insists, cheek resting against Pugsley’s chest. “It’ll be fine, okay? I’m sure it’s just the…initial shock. They’re not used to seeing me with anyone. They’ll get over it.”
“You’re right.”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“...Shut up.”
“Okay.”
Eugene rolls his eyes, before leaning up to press a brief kiss to his jaw, meant to be a goodnight.
What he failed to predict is Pugsley never does anything half-assed, so he suddenly feels his chin lifted and lips against his. He lets out a small, surprised sound against his lips before allowing himself to let himself melt, kiss back.
Then he hears the stairs creak and is pulled back into reality, breaking away and resting his head against Pugsley’s chest again.
“Goodnight, honeybee.”
Eugene sighs, hand curling in Pugsley’s sweater. Tomorrow will inevitably bring more stress. He can’t bring himself to think about it another minute.
“Goodnight.”