Chapter Text
You felt like you were in the middle of something.
Harlequin had shifted his attention from you in order to stare down Pierrot. Which, yay, his attention was finally off you but you got this weird feeling of impending doom. Like, it wasn’t a good thing Harlequin had discovered this.
Though, you didn’t really know what “this” supposedly was? It was just Pierrot getting a free drink out of you. Unless they weren’t allowed to accept free stuff? That would make sense, you guess. Sucks for them though.
You glance over at Pierrot, who's still frozen in place. He was standing remarkably still, you were pretty sure he stopped breathing too. It was both a mix of unsettling and impressive, mostly impressive.
It also looked like his eyes had disappeared? Which, probably wasn’t right because eyes didn’t just do that. His weird mask that may be his face was probably just casting a shadow over them. The dim lighting of the Cafe also wasn’t helping the sight, for how aesthetically nice it was it certainly wasn’t very illuminating.
The two seemed to be in some sort of mental standoff that you weren’t privy to. Not like you cared though, you didn’t have to be tuned into whatever mental conversation they were having with each other. You weren’t curious at all, you were just here to make do on your promise.
Speaking of, you look Pierrot up and down slowly analyzing for any sign of visual injury. No obvious blood nor bruises, and it didn’t seem like he had a limp or anything. From what you could see, he looked pretty good! Must’ve meant he finally took your advice seriously.
“Hi Pierrot.” you say and instantly you have two heads turning to face you and four eyes staring into your soul. Okay, that was a little horrifying but, whatever. “You look good! I mean, of course you would, you actually listened to my advice!”
You smile mostly to yourself, if people honestly listened to you more often then the world would be a much better place. Pierrot was just one in what you were sure was going to be a long list of examples. A small huff of pride leaves your lips as you grab a menu and place it on the bar counter.
If Pierrot didn’t talk in public at all, you didn’t really want him to strain his voice by ordering or anything. After all, having him hurt himself would be counterintuitive to every piece of wonderful advice you were trying to plant in his brain.“Have a seat! Point to what you want and I’ll make it for you! Just nothing from the espresso machine, I’m not putting the beans back in.”
Pierrot seemed to snap out of whatever stone trance he was in, eyes dilating as he looked at you. It was like waving a treat in front of a dog, you could almost see him with a bushy white tail wagging furiously behind him.
Huh. Weird. You felt your heart constrict a little. Heartburn, maybe? That made sense, though the sudden urge to squeeze Pierrot till his bones cracked was probably not heartburn related.
Pierrot, luckily, interrupted that sudden line of thought by bounding over to the bar. He reached a hand out to his side and–without hesitation–pushed Harlequin off his seat.
Harlequin was a green motion blur, it was almost comical how fast he fell and disappeared behind the other side of the bar. You’re pretty sure he let out some kind of noise of distress or pain before he hit the floor; and by the sound of the thunk that echoed throughout the Cafe, he hit it pretty hard too.
You blinked, looking at Pierrot before steadily turning your gaze to where Harlequin used to be sitting. You then glanced back at Pierrot.
He seemed entirely nonplussed about what just happened, sitting down and pointing at the strawberry chocolate milkshake with a pleased smile.
Well, it looks like your advice to Pierrot worked even better than you thought, he was actually fighting back now! Pride in someone else was a strange feeling, but one you wouldn’t forget. You gave him a small grin, which seemed to make his smile grow larger.
“Sweet tooth, huh? Alright then, one milkshake comin’ up!”
Pierrot gave you an even wider smile as you turned around, ignoring the somehow angry-sounding jingling of bells as another loud thunk of both a body and chair hitting the floor echoed behind you. The jingling was getting progressively more aggressive, so you turned on the milkshake machine and let that be your white noise.
Honestly, you thought Pierrot was one of those wet blanket types who didn’t fight back because he didn’t hate anybody. It was a welcome surprise to see that even he could dislike someone, especially since he and Harlequin were probably coworkers.
You filled the shaker with custard methodically, adding a couple pumps of strawberry syrup before mixing it. Luckily it wasn’t your job to clean the milkshake machine, that honor belonged to the Boss. So after you made this and bid the two actual clowns in your Cafe adieu, you could finally go home. Maybe you’d even get an hour or two of rest before you had to train.
God that sounded amazing, you’d been itching to do something productive and the lack of activity for two nights in a row was getting to you. You turned off the machine, slowly pulling the shaker out before grabbing a milkshake glass and filling it to the brim. You drizzled the chocolate on and fished for the whipped cream, giving it a couple of shakes before forming a perfect spiral.
A couple shakes of some cheap rainbow sprinkles on top combined with a well placed cherry and you were pretty sure you had just made the most perfect milkshake you’d ever make in your career.
You took out your phone and snapped a picture, already prepared to brag to Carol about it later. Of course, all your drinks were perfect drinks but this one was just flawless. You considered not giving it to Pierrot and having it framed somewhere where everyone could bask in its beauty.
But no, you had made a promise and you intended to keep it. Pierrot should consider himself lucky that you were so kind and generous.
“Okay this is lowkey one of the best milkshakes I’ve ever made so you better… enjoy it…”
You turned back around to set the milkshake back on the bar only to see Pierrot and Harlequin, who were now both sitting back in their seats, covered in scuff marks and smiling at you like nothing had occurred.
Hm.
To address or to not address? That is the question.
Actually no, it wasn’t even a question, you genuinely did not give a fuck. Honestly all things considered, you were kind of proud. Pierrot seemed to be really taking your advice to fight back against people who harmed him to heart.
You placed the shake in front of Pierrot, sticking a straw and a spoon in it. “Tone apple beef.”
Pierrot, like the sensible man he was, began slurping at his milkshake. You could’ve used that moment to actually examine closely whether his mouth was actually his mouth or a part of the mask. You absolutely would have, if it wasn’t for an annoying, grating voice speaking to you.
“It’s bon appétit.”
“Genuinely shut up. Imagine defending the French, crazy.”
Harlequin’s grin sharpened, which left you feeling weirdly relieved. It felt wrong watching him feign innocence. “Oh~? Is that how you treat all paying customers, bug eyes?”
Shit, he got your ass there. You should probably back off, apologize for your behavior or whatever and hope he didn’t bring this entire interaction up to your boss. You didn’t want to get the Cafe shut down just because too many customers left a bad review.
“Yes.”
Or you could double down. That seemed like a good idea.
You held up a hand before Harlequin could even say anything more. “Imma stop you right there. You got maybe 10 minutes before I close this place up and if you wanna waste that time making fun of me, fuck you, but fine.”
You rest your elbows on the counter in front of him, staring straight into his eyes. You would’ve grabbed the sides of his head too and put your foreheads together, just to really sell how serious you were, but you didn’t know him like that.
(Out of the corner of your eye you could see Pierrot stiffen once again, staring at the two of you with a firm grip on his milkshake).
“All I ask is genuinely, deadass, wrap it up before close. I wanna go home, man. I wanna go home, workout, take a shower, and like maybe eat dinner.”
Harlequin looked at you as you spoke, waiting for you to finish before smiling. He reached out his hand casually, as if he was grabbing at his drink. Which you realized he wasn’t when you suddenly felt fingers under your chin, gently guiding you to look up further.
You froze, not of fear but out of two instinctual reactions wanting to occur at the same time but canceling each other out. It was like pressing two buttons on a controller and the commands canceling each other out. There was simply no registered input in your brain as you were in between instantly gagging at the touch, or, leaping over the bar to choke him out.
Your internal bluescreen was quickly broken, though, by the sound of a sharp shatter. Your eyes snapped first to Harlequin, who was no longer looking at you and instead staring off to the side with a sharper grin on his face. You, naturally, followed his gaze to see Pierrot. More specifically, Pierrot with strawberry custard and glass all over his hand and a couple shards now lying on the floor.
You had looked away for one second.
“Fuck!” You pushed away from Harlequin, rushing over to check Pierrot’s hand. His gloves looked stupidly high quality, so no glass got embedded in his hand, hopefully.
You took Pierrot’s hand in yours, flipping it over to see if any glass had punctured into his skin. You pressed lightly into his palm, feeling the smooth silk of his glove as you rub and gently prod across his hand, looking for any sign of glass or pain from him.
Luckily, other than the now rapidly melting strawberry and chocolate staining his black glove, there was nothing you could see. A small blessing, you supposed, it would be an actual legal nightmare if Pierrot fucked up his hand because you gave him a faulty glass.
“What happened? Did the glass burst in your hand or somethin’?” You couldn’t wait for Pierrot to respond, filled with an antsy panic as you jogged to the customer side of the bar, snatching the broom and pan on your way.
“Don’t get down, I don’t want you gettin’ stuck with glass.”
There was a sort of high-pitched noise that came out of Pierrot when you said that made you wince. Did that come off more demanding than you intended? Some people have said you can get pretty authoritarian at times, especially during emergency situations. You always took it as a compliment, but you didn’t want to scare the guy.
“Don’t worry ma’am,” Harlequin spoke, and God you almost jumped, you forgot he was there. “The Pierrot is quite pain-resistant, so don’t feel the need to waste your time on him.”
You tilted your head at Harlequin’s words. Sure, you had met Pierrot a literal day ago but the encounters you’ve had with the red clown provided enough evidence against Harlequin’s point. Seeing Pierrot lying on the ground pathetically, all busted up. Then Pierrot walked into the Cafe, looking like a sad, wet puppy with his tail in between his legs and bleeding from his head.
Given these entirely accurate interpretations, Harlequin was a dirty liar and you shouldn’t trust him. Facts that you had already learned from your previous interactions with him over the course of the day.
“Okay even if that was true, I still don’t want him gettin’ stuck with glass. Glass in the feet is not pleasant.”
That seemed to quiet Harlequin, for now. You began sweeping, making sure to get every piece of glass that you could see. Then you did a general sweep around the area, just in case there were smaller pieces of glass you couldn’t see around. You’d absolutely have to mop this area again too, just in case, but that wouldn’t be too much of a problem.
“Okay Pierrot, you should be good to get down now.”
You set the broom and dusting pan aside as you glance up at Pierrot– you faintly realize you hadn’t gotten a proper look at his face this entire encounter– with a small smile, about to offer him your hand to make sure he got down okay. It was a little much, even you could admit that, but after the jumpscare of an insurmountable amount of legal work that almost befell you, you felt like you were justified in doing the most.
At least the danger had passed now, that was what you had thought.
Until you finally looked at Pierrot’s face, and your panic rose tenfold.
He looked on the verge of passing out then and there: his white face–mask—whatever was red, concerningly red, redder than what you’ve seen any person get before normally. His golden eyes were the size of pinpricks, his pupils shrunk so much you could barely see them, and from what you could see they were locked onto his custard-covered hand.
Holy fuck, was he about to die?!
Did glass actually get stuck in his palm, and you just straight up missed it? He could be losing blood right now. Maybe it got into a vein and was killing him before your eyes.
You were frozen, probably shaking too from the overload of worst case scenarios flooding your head. Would 911 even get here in time if you called them? What if they arrived just as he died? Could you blame it on Harlequin, or would it be smarter to convince him to hide the body together? No, that wouldn’t work! He’d probably rat you out the moment the cops arrived.
Just as you were working out the logistics of how many years you’d possibly serve compared to the effort it’d take to hide two bodies, you were broken from your spiral by a scoff behind you, knocking you entirely off course.
“Disgusting.”
You whip around to stare at Harlequin. “Dude! Not the time! He’s literally about to die?!”
You gesticulated toward Pierrot. God, his face was such a deep red it was matching his outfit, which you’re pretty sure was not good. Harlequin, however, seemed to not share your panic as he stared at Pierrot with… revulsion? His eyes were narrowed and brows furrowed in obvious disgust, but there was a slight wide-eyed look to him too. It was contradictory to what you had read on his face previously, like he was genuinely appalled by the fact Pierrot was injured yet simultaneously hurt by it as well.
It made you pause, lips pressed into a thin line as you looked at him. You knew the two didn’t like each other, or well, you thought the two didn’t like each other. Was there something more that you were missing here? There had to be, it took a lot more than just ‘dislike’ to react with revulsion and hurt at the prospect of someone else's death.
Especially if you knew that person.
Harlequin seemed to notice you noticing him and, like you were a nosy neighbor peeking into someone else’s open door, shut you out in an instant. You almost jolted, seeing in real time how he masked whatever genuine emotion you had the opportunity to glimpse with a lackadaisical facade.
“Don’t worry, bug eyes, the Pierrot before you is just being dramatic,” Harlequin spoke offhandedly, raising one hand in a half shrug gesture. He stood and walked over to you, leaning down to throw an arm over your shoulder and begin stage whispering in your ear.
“You see, our dear Pierrot here has quite the bowel troubles. With the high stress of the encounter, well, I imagine his body isn’t reacting quite well.”
Ah.
Pierrot’s entire demeanor darkened in response to Harlequin’s words, he looked mortified, opening his mouth before closing it after a moment.
Well, if you were doubting Harlequin before, you certainly weren’t doubting him now. That type of reaction could only come from someone revealing a deep, dark, terrible secret in front of a complete stranger.
“First of all, get your hand off me before I take them off myself. Second,” you swat at Harlequin’s side–not hard, just enough to get your message across, “having tummy issues is fine. All hot people have them.”
Or at least that’s what Carol told you once when you had a terrible stomach ache that lasted around a week. It was a couple of months ago, one day you just woke up and it felt like your stomach was being torn apart. When you told Carol about it, that line was her response.
She was obviously joking, trying to get your mind off the pain that racked your entire system since you didn’t go to hospitals to get help. It was, coincidentally, after that week that Carol also started supplying you with pills.
She never told you where she got them from, just that she had them and you were free to ask her for more. You hoped it was somewhere safe. You hoped she wasn’t putting herself in any danger for your sake.
Focusing back on the presence, Pierrot seemed to lighten a little at your words.
“Though that probably does mean I should stop makin’ you milkshakes. Honestly, I feel like the lesson here is that milkshakes are bad.”
Yeah, that seemed like the appropriate message this entire encounter was trying to teach you. You glanced at one of the clocks hanging from the wall to check the time. 8:20. You had been here twenty more minutes than you had originally intended.
Usually you’d be pissed. Honestly, you kind of were but, after the disaster that had just happened in the past twenty or so minutes, you honestly didn’t care. You just wanted to leave.
“Okay, now that that’s all settled then, get out.”
“Awww c’mon bug eyes, we were having so much fun!”
“Were we?? Actually no, don’t answer that. You’re lucky I’m even being polite right now.”
Harlequin seemed to want to test your nerve despite your words. With a playful skip backwards he now stood in front of you, one hand on his hip as he stared you down.
“And what will you do if I simply refuse to leave?”
Hm.
You see Pierrot immediately stand in response to Harlequin’s words, probably about to intervene in some sort of way. You raise a hand at him, motioning for him to halt as you stare into Harlequin’s bright green eyes.
You grab at the broom you had set aside early, with a flick of your wrist it twirls once in your grasp before you halt the motion by loosely wrapping one hand about an inch or two away from the brush. Your other hand is closer to the end of the broom, fingers wrapping around the wood a little tighter to keep your grip steady.
It was second nature for the rest of your body to get into the proper stance. You turned to your side, one leg in front of you and one firmly behind you as you held this broom like a spear. It felt comfortable in your grasp, familiar, as with a winding movement you spun the brush around in a large arch, rising far above your head before bringing it down with a swift movement.
“Ack!”
You began whacking Harlequin over the head with the broom. Repeatedly. It was like you were swiping at an oversized bug which, according to Harlequin’s earlier words, was an accurate description.
Every time he tried to raise his hands in defense you slightly adjusted your hold, changing the target from his head to directly to his face. With each whack you slowly stepped forward, forcing him to back towards the door.
“Go. Leave. Verlassen. Deixas. Umalis.”
You turn to Pierrot as you slowly whack Harlequin towards the door. He never did get his part of the deal fulfilled, well, technically he did but it sort of exploded in his hands. Plus, he couldn’t have drank it anyways because of his stomach problems.
“You should come back tomorrow.” Pierrot’s eyes widen and you feel your cheeks heat up, glancing away from Pierrot to focus back on swatting the loud, oversized bug away. “Don–Don’t get the wrong idea! I don’t want to see you or anythin’ it’s just, well, I have a promise to fulfill and tonight doesn’t count! You didn’t even get to enjoy your milkshake.”
You mutter the last part, not because you were embarrassed or anything, it was just sort of hard to speak all of a sudden. Probably because you were so focused on swatting Harlequin back.
Though it didn’t seem like it mattered, by the way Pierrot visibly brightened and nodded his head so fast you were sure he was going to give himself a headache, it seems like he heard you. You could feel your cheeks warm at his obvious excitement, you were embarrassed– for him, of course! His excitement was embarrassing and he should leave as quickly as possible before he embarrassed himself more!
You were about to voice your thoughts to Pierrot, opening your mouth to do so, until he suddenly charged forward and moved towards you with surprising speed. He kneeled down to look at you properly, and you felt tempted to whack him over the head too. Though, you were prevented from doing so as your body froze as Pierrot leaned in close to you, angling his mouth right over your ear.
“Then, I shall see you tomorrow, my liege.”
With that, Pierrot stood to his full height and walked toward the door, reaching out to grapple the back of Harlequin’s cape to drag him to the door. He turned around briefly to give you a wave goodbye before, with the jingle of a bell, the two of them departed.
You were once more left alone in the Cafe, basking in the aftermath of the clown-based shenanigans that had been forced upon you. Now that they were gone, it seemed like your energy had left with them as a wave of exhaustion suddenly overcame you.
“Jesus.”
You set the broom down and grab your messenger bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you grab at the spare keys the Boss left you and, after turning the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’, finally lock up.
It was surprisingly nice outside: the temperature was pleasant, the sun was setting on the horizon, basking the wide cityscape in a dazzling glow. There were a couple of people on the streets still, stragglers of the day wandering about until night finally settled and beckoned them all home.
You look up at the sky above, taking in a deep breath as you grasp your hands together, raising them to rest just beneath your nose.
“God, if you’re real, please do not let this be a regular occurrence. I am your strongest soldier, I am not strong enough for this.”
There was no response, not even a rustle of wind that could even be misinterpreted as a sign. You stood like that for a couple more moments before a sudden realization struck you.
You weren’t religious. You barely even believed in a God.
With that realization, you lowered your hands and sunk to a squatting position, resting your head on your knees.
These clowns were driving you crazy, and you had only known one of them for two days.
You stayed there for a couple more moments, contemplating the loss of your peace and whatever was still left of your sanity before standing back up and beginning the track back to your apartment.
Well, whatever, you’d only have to deal with them for one more day at max before your promise is fulfilled and you could go back to your peaceful, normal life.