Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Vinyl?” The call came from down the hall, as unsure as it was loud. “Vi, get out here.”

Vinyl put his journal down on the old wooden nightstand and grabbed a light coat as he exited the bedroom.

“Vi!” Val called again, clearer this time as Vinyl walked down the hall. He knocked on the wallpaper as he went so Val would know where he was in their small house. Vaya and Vamos must’ve come over early. Not unlike them. They were always anxious for the next big event, and since moving to the city no one could blame them. Battery City was living up to its name ever since it evicted Better Living. The twins were the constant moving center of it, and the desert was nothing but sluggish in comparison.

For tonight’s weekly visit, the twins were taking Val and Vinyl out to a drive-in movie. They’d made friends in the city, friends with cars, and bugged the couple for weeks trying to find an excuse to introduce everyone. Vinyl smiled thinking about it. It'd be a relaxed night, and good fun, and he missed the twins dearly every moment they were away. But when Vinyl stepped into the sunny living room, it wasn’t the twins he spotted through the linen curtains.

From his side Val asked, “Do you know her?” His voice was armed with an edge of paranoia, his eyes shaded.

Vinyl hummed, striding towards the window. “It’s alright.” He pulled the curtain back a few centimeters from where it rested. He frowned and squinted. “I know her.”

Out front was a vintage car, parked over the deer trail of a walkway that led up to the front steps. A woman paced around their dry yard slowly and arbitrarily, looking lost or looking for something. She was tall with dark hair shaved short around the back, and must’ve been no older than forty. A heavy white jacket covered her shoulders. When the sunlight caught it right, Vinyl could make out a scarecrow label sewn into it. She was tall and muscular and in every way intimidating by the look in her eyes. Then, by her luck, she met Vinyl’s gaze through the dusty window. He tugged the curtain shut.

“Hey w-” Val hurried to keep up with Vinyl's gait as he headed toward the door.

“Wait,” he told Val, holding out his palm. He raised his eyebrows waiting for an answer.

His husband looked between him and the curtain, then shrugged frustrated. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Val crossed his arms. “Can I watch through the window?”

Vinyl rubbed his neck, taking his time to think, as he opened the door a crack. A column of sunlight fell through. He huffed a breath and waved an indifferent hand, then rushed out.

Quick momentum pushed him through that doorway, but reality halted him on the front step, practically winding him as his eyes adjusted to the bright mid-afternoon air. The door shut behind him.

“Fuck,” the woman stated in a clear city accent, “You’ve changed.” She stepped forward. Vinyl stepped back, his heel hitting the door. His wide eyes scanned her, trying to parse the intentions she hid so well. She smiled, seemingly friendly, but her eyebrows crossed. Nothing but wind passed between them for a moment. Birds sounded above.

The woman sighed a laugh. “Still not one for talking are you?” She paused, scratching at her lip. “Look I just… Fuck, can’t you at least say ‘hi’ to me?” Her anger rose with her voice. “Can’t you at least say anything?”

“Hey.” Val was behind him suddenly, a hand over Vinyl’s opposite shoulder. “Who the hell are you?”

Vinyl looked at him, trying not to feel relieved. “I told you to wait,” he whispered just to him.

“Is this tumbleweed giving you trouble?” He scowled. Val turned to the woman again, “What do you want?”

“Hi!” She waved sharply, smiling, “Hi, hi. Finally someone who knows basic manners around here. You know, acknowledging a guest when she comes all the way out here for a visit.”

Vinyl scoffed as she continued.

“My name is Kay. I’ve been asking around quite a bit to figure out where you were out here. Big place, the desert. Lots of empty space. Maybe once things settle down in the city they’ll develop the land out here too, fix it up a bit -”

“What do you want?” Val repeated.

Kay nodded. “Right, my apologies. Just, speaking of the city, I’ve been out of a job since Better Living lost control of it all and with all this free time on my hands - not to mention the new treaties between Batt citizens and, well, people like you - I figured I’d head over here and try to track you down -” she nodded in Vinyl’s direction “- and catch up a bit. Re-introduce ourselves maybe. Get a fresh start.” Her voice softened with the last few words, almost like a plea.

Vinyl's face was red, his jaw tensed, and his arms crossed in a tight knit. If he was trying to hide his discomfort, he wasn’t doing it well. “Kayla,” he addressed her flatly. Then he added, for Val’s sake, “Sister.”

Kay’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit.” She laughed, too loudly. “Well, hang on, hang on. First of all it’s just ‘Kay’ now, got that? No one’s called me by my full name in almost two decades. But also: damn! Look at you talking! A Director’s miracle that is, cause here I was thinking you were just gonna give me a silent treatment all day and let your roommate do the heavy lifting for you.” She cleared her throat. “But, wow, just... your voice. Really, you killjoys do go wild with your hormones don’t you? I didn’t expect you to sound so deep. It’s great through, really great. You got exactly what you wanted in the end. You really do look like a man now, Rebecc -”

Val nearly fell off the porch with how quickly Vinyl shrugged him off, rushing off the stoop to stand nearly chest to chest with her, fists clenched at his sides, as she sputtered in surprise, backing up.

“Hey! Whoa!” She held her hands out as a buffer. “Sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it. There’s no need to get aggressive over nothing. Sorry, alright?”

He didn’t relax, his glare red and wet. He just said frankly, “Vinyl.”

“Vinyl?”

He nodded.

She spoke quietly, still shaken, “Alright. Vinyl.”

He relaxed marginally.

Val rejoined them, clearing his throat. cautiously he took Vinyl’s hand in his own and Vinyl let him. “You alright?” he asked, concerned.

Vinyl just stared at the middle distance of the ground, breathing heavy. He rammed his eyes shut, trying to reset things, reground. He nodded.

Val’s voice was a soft relief at least. “Let me know if I should do something.”

“Sorry,” Kay mumbled again, watching this exchange. But her voice wasn’t apologetic, it was awkward and uncomfortable, like she was just begging for this to be over with so she could move on with whatever she planned to do here. Val tightened his grip on Vinyl’s hand.

Don’t, Vinyl tried to warn but anxiety held his body stiff.

“‘Sorry?’ No,” Val moved toward Kay, shoulders squared. “You don’t get to show up uninvited, talking about fresh starts like some crash queen’s final letter making a complete fool of yourself in the process, and then just say sorry about it like you’ve only made some honest mistake.”

“It was an honest mistake. How was I supposed to know they fucking changed their name?”

“You were supposed to know he changed his name the moment your thick skull figured out you don’t know shit about who he is anymore. Cut the crap, sweetheart, this isn’t a family reunion.”

Vinyl tugged Val’s arm. Don’t.

“Fine.” He leaned on Vinyl, fuming. “Fine. But take that rusty jacket off while you’re here, Kay. I don’t give a shit about your sympathies.”

Vinyl opened his eyes again just in time to see Kay not taking off her jacket.

"I'm not a sympathizer." She sounded offended. "Better Living isn't around anymore -"

“Not a sympathizer and yet you brandish that logo like you’ve been sponsored to sell it.”

Reluctantly she took off the jacket and tied it around her waist. “So much for SoCal hospitality. Maybe you’re right and we aren’t really related after all, if Vinyl’s going to socialize with stubborn testy bastards like you. I don't work for Better Living anymore. They’re gone. I couldn’t if I wanted to. So let bygones be bygones, water over the street, why don’t you? But yeah, sure, I was a scarecrow for a while. Who cares? Would've been a full fledged exterminator by now just like Dad if only the corporation stuck around a few more months."

Vinyl shook his head, looking away. “D - Dad… -”

“What?” She was mocking him, he could tell. “Did you not know? Ran away from home too young?”

“N - no. I -” He knew. He’d always guessed so, or guessed similar. But that didn’t make it easier to hear point blank. “Sorry.” He held Val's hand tighter.

She sighed. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean - I didn’t come here to start fights.”

Vinyl pulled away from Val and went back over to the front stoop, sitting down on it, his head in his hands. Everything was too loud and too fast. He needed a break. He needed things to pause.

“I thought you were dead,” Kay said without moving from where she stood. She was grim but not accusatory. Just stating facts. “I thought you’d gotten yourself ghosted with that dustbunny you ran off with. And you must’ve, I thought, because being a killjoy is just suicide by roleplay. Everyone knows that. Or everyone did know that until I spotted you in the City. I saw you in that stupid parade you killjoys had going. Right at the front. I couldn’t believe it. I’m amazed I even recognized you, but I did and I - I -” She rubbed her face. “I fucking cried you bastard. You were back from the dead. Then that bomb went off and my job was gone, like that. The bomb went off and all the electricity went crazy, glass breaking, transformers busting. Everyone in the office with me screaming. And you were gone. And I was stranded in a burning, infested city, watching the life I’d put my everything into just vanish with the smoke. And I was lost.”

Vinyl didn’t say anything. He just sat there processing it. Val sat beside him and stayed silent as well, respecting Vinyl’s right to speak for himself. But Vinyl didn’t want to speak for himself, not now, not like this. Kay was watching him, waiting.

“Whatever happened to them, by the way?” Kay asked, too impatient to let the silence rest. “The killjoy who talked you into leaving us.”

Vinyl tensed.

“Volume’s dead,” Val said plainly.

“Oh.”

Silence held this time. Val bit his tongue, keeping an eye on Kay's every move. She, in turn, contemplated Vinyl who was still sitting there fighting off overload. The wind between the trio was cold.

Then another car pulled up beside Kay's, horn honking. Vinyl startled, having not realized anyone was driving up until now. It was a white city car with tinted windows, but spray painted all over in a multitude of colors, and it was a welcome escape.

"The clowns are here." Val leapt up and shouted to them, "Vaya! Vamos!"

“Hey!” Vamos rolled down the shotgun window and called out, “Who’s the undergrad?”

Val groaned. “I’ll explain later, dipshit! Are we rolling out or what?”

Vinyl tugged Val’s sleeve as he stood, and with Val’s attention, he signed, “Tell Kay to come back in a week. We need to talk.”

Val paused. "Sure?"

"Yes."

Val repeated the request to Kay, trying not to sound unfriendly as he did so.

“You're kidding. You're really leaving right now?”

Val laughed. “Duh. Don’t want to hold up the party.” He pulled a key from his pocket and locked the front door shut twice. “And don’t come back until next week," He told Kay, kicking the bottom of the door. "If I see you any sooner than that you’ll be nothing but a trespasser to me. Understand?”

Vaya honked their horn again. "Let's go."

"One second! Fuck, Vaya." Val held Vinyl's hand again and the two headed for the car.

Kay just stood there awkwardly, trying to parse the sudden departure. “Oh - okay. Bye, I guess.”

Once in the backseat of the carpool, Vinyl watched through the window as Kay got into her own car and pulled out an old paper map, crinkled and marked up. The killjoys' car hummed. As Vaya began to red line away, Kay and her scarecrow license plate, still set in park, shrunk over the horizon.

Chapter Text

They got back to their house well into the night. Val checked each room twice before getting around for bed, making sure Kay hadn’t broken in and touched anything, or done anything worse, while their home was left unsupervised.

“She wo - wouldn’t have.”

“I know.” Val opened and closed the closet door, again. “You keep saying that.”

Vinyl nodded. Val’s fears would pacify sooner rather than later. Besides, he lay on their bed with his own thoughts that night, staring up at the ceiling, counting the cracks. The room, along with the whole house, was quiet and dim. Quietly falling apart, too. In his head Vinyl was always planning home improvement projects around the real estate, which he swore he'd get around to eventually. Floors needed to be redone. Furniture needed to be mended. An apocalypse and a war hadn't been kind to the structure over the years. And last May, a family of crows nested in the defunct chimney. It was sealed off from the rest of the building, so there was no threat of infestation or whatever complications that would bring, but if Vinyl could figure out what kind of mess they'd left in there and clean it up, he'd rather do that before it started attracting worse pests.

“You shouldn’t have invited her back,” Val said while opening each drawer of their dresser, again. Vinyl looked over at him. What did he expect him to say in response to that? Still, Kay's visit obviously triggered something in Val, and for that he at least sympathized.

He cleared his throat to get Val's attention, signing, “Why?”

“Because she’s a bootlicker, Vi." He was exasperated like it was obvious, and perhaps it was. "Not to forget, I’ve heard you talk about her. She was no better than your parents were.”

So that was the problem? “Kay was a child.”

“And she hasn't changed.” Val stood up straight, brushing the hair out of his face. “Alright. The house is shiny… enough. I’ll just check again in the morning, you know.” His words had an aftertaste of bitter guilt-trip to them. He bit his lip realizing that. "Thank you. For letting me check."

Vinyl smiled reassuringly. He pulled back the sheets and comforter so Val could get under them too, an offer he quickly accepted, pulling close to Vinyl and sinking into the cushions comfortably. The bed was nicer than most. Tommy'd gotten his pinchers on some backlog from the city recently; old furniture sets and decor for cheap, which he'd then sold to sand dwellers for twice the original value. Val splurged on the mattress. But then again, with carbons to spare, there was no reason not to. Vinyl wrapped the blankets around them both, warm and downy.

“I don’t trust this,” Val sighed. “I trust you.”

Vinyl signed carefully, thinking his defensiveness over. “She’s family. I left her. I need to hear what she has to say.” He raised his eyebrows. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He kissed the top of Val’s head. Then he added, hardly thinking, “Your and her personalities are the same.”

“How so? Don’t offend me.” He pulled Vinyl's arm around his shoulder, leaving the other free to talk.

Vinyl shrugged and mirrored Val's smirk. “Quick to anger. Not a bad thing.” He watched Val for a moment before reconsidering. “Next time don’t.”

“Don’t get angry?" he quipped with calm sarcasm, "I’ll keep that in mind.” A beat passed. Val signed a half-promise, "I'll be nice," before talking again: “What’s the… - I know I shouldn’t be asking this. I know that, and I’m trying not to be so… -”

“- Quick to anger?”

Val laughed. “Alright, that. Or quick to judge. That’s what I was going to say: I’m too quick to judge too. Jesus. I’m working on it, add that to the list of - shit, I -” He rubbed his face. “That… wasn’t where I meant to go with this. I just want to know what the point of today was. What do you hope to gain from letting your sister back into your life? After how she treated you? Why would you want to bring any of that back? It’s history. There’s nothing to find there, just ghosts. You don’t see me crawling back to my old family skeletons, begging for forgiveness - not that that’s what I think you’re doing."

"Sure."

"Sure. Right. But what’s the end goal here? What boon’s gonna neutralize the risk you’re putting yourself in?”

“Curiosity,” was his gut reaction, signing before Val finished talking. “Love. I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to know. I put you on the spot.”

Val pushed the covers away and got up again. He opened the bedroom door and peered out into the hallway. It was hardly five seconds before he closed the door again and re-locked it.

“Okay?”

“It’s nothing, Vi. I know it’s nothing.” He started crawling back into bed.

“You’re safe.”

“I know. I told you it’s nothing.”

Vinyl fixed Val’s hair behind his ear. Val was quiet, for once. He breathed softly, looking down, lost in his own head. Finally he said, “We should sleep. If we sleep I might stop thinking about it.”

“Good." Vinyl hoped so too. "I love you.”

“I love you," Val repeated, laying down against Vinyl's side. Vinyl could barely reach the bedside lamp from where he was, but he could, and he turned it off then, blanketing the room in darkness. Then he held his husband close as he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t so much a dream as it was a series of memories, broiled together under white-hot sunlight through the glass of the greenhouse roof. The sun, always a star in its own right, burned him. Black plastic hoses threaded along table edges misted soil and leaves in rows where he sat, in the corner, letting the irrigation soak his shirt through until he was pulled to his feet, almost roughly, by Kayla.

“Get up. Dad wants this done by tonight.” She shoved shears into his hands and dragged him away from the shade.

“It’s too bright in here,” he said.

“Suck it up,” she replied.

“Suck it up,” he heard again, from his father or mother or who knows. He couldn't remember. The dream was too aerosol. But the voice sounded again out of nothing:

“No one will ever want to tolerate you if you keep acting like this.”

It was dark, the sun gone and replaced by dim orange light and shadows projected over peeling wallpaper. Shadows instead of figures, only a reflection of what was there. Elongated and distorted. The air burned.

He was still being dragged somewhere, by someone, by his arm, falling deeper and deeper into the cavernous space. Endlessly, it was his universe. The house was too tall around him. The angles too sharp. The touch binding his wrist was as disorienting as it was painful as it was like brushing a heat lamp with tender skin, but he knew pulling away would only make things worse, so it was all he could do to choke out an “I’m sorry” under his breath.

The walls themselves ached with each breath and pulse. “They’d never let you act like that in the city.”

He knew that.

“You’re lucky.”

The house around him creaked like a bird.

“Be thankful.”

Anger burned in his chest like acid.

“We’re only strict because we love you.”

He knew that too. Clutter in every corner of the room crowded him; photo albums, old picture frames, and books. Memories dotted each object with shallow love.

“No one else will ever care for you this much.”

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, collecting the salt like stars. “W - what did I - ?”

What did he do wrong this time. What did he did he fuck up. What did he do to deserve it? Did it matter?

Every day was the same scorn with new reasons. He needed to be better, that’s all, what an impossible feat. He strained his eyes in search of a way out but the night was too dark, no stars left at all. Just black empty space going out forever.

And then there was Kayla.

There was no light. All he could see was tones of grey. But there ahead of him was her outline, rim-lit and soft by the static in the air, just barely visible. She watched him with disgustingly sad eyes he couldn’t meet. Then her pity melted into a smile, a grimace, anxiety. He knew she didn't hate him, only because she hated their parents more.

Like lightning there was a flash, and ahead of him: a dead scarecrow disturbing soft earth, its head bouncing when it hit the ground. The air was still dark, too dark. The sky above like a black dome, and the desert a muddy disc. Vinyl crawled forward to pull off the scarecrow’s bloody mask.

Dark hair fell out of it, inky curls like his, but the face, corpse white, was too thin and unfamiliar and free of tattletale birthmarks or freckles or scars. It was cold.

From behind him, Val asked, “What’s the point of looking at them all? They’re just clay pigeons like this. Nothing left to look at.” He laughed.

Was this what Icarus’ freedom felt like? Vinyl dropped the scarecrow’s head and stood up, looking down. It was just a nameless corpse no older than him. A clay pigeon, truly. One of hundreds. He’ll tie it up like all the rest, then they’ll gore it for fun, and he’ll try not to imagine who it could’ve been.

He caught his reflection in polished silver. Everything was soft and bright and suddenly there he was in the center of it all. Inky hair. When he pulled it all back, he could see where it was receding in the corners of his forehead, slowly, slowly, but easily he could imagine it even further back, leaving more skin exposed. Any further and it’d look something like Dad’s. Let it recede too much and it’d be the same.

His father’s hair, his mother’s nose, his sister’s jaw. Broken pieces jammed together. He never knew before what people meant by things like this - comparing a person's pieces to their parents' - but as he got older he found he understood it more and more until it was all he was able to see in silver.

Genetics was his cruel reminder.

He woke up angry at nothing.

Chapter Text

The following week was uneventful, if not tedious, until Vaya and Vamos returned again. Vamos practically lept into Vinyl’s arms with a hug, knocking him back a step. He held them tight for a moment before saying,

“Missed you.”

Everyone settled in easily, this house as good as a second home for Vaya and Vamos. The living space was warm from the heat wafting in from the kitchen, and the daylight sun shone bright. Val was preparing a formal meal for the informal dinner party they were hosting not only for the twins, but also for Kay. There was no set time for when she’d be over, only her promise that she’d be here today, and Vinyl knew - or hoped, rather - that she wouldn’t disappoint.

On their couch, Vamos lay across Vinyl’s lap as they waited. Out of habit, he braided their hair, carefully brushing it out of their eyes and tangling the wavy strands together. Vaya, happily talking up a storm, was perched to their side hugging a pillow between their knees and chest.

“- then it started pouring down rain!” Vaya continued, loudly despite the otherwise quiet environment, “And I suppose most of the Batt Rats aren’t used to it yet ‘cause they closed nearly everything down again. I barely caught the last train home! It wasn’t even acidic - mostly not acidic -”

“Didn’t they rate it Degree Six?” Vamos cut in.

“Like a Six means anything!”

Vinyl smiled as they rambled on. He was dressed nicely, but his hair was brushed forward today so that it obscured much of his face. Earlier, Val tried to style it tidier for Vinyl, as if Val cared about him or something (he did), but in the end it was Vinyl’s hair and it was Vinyl’s family reunion today. He kept it how he pleased.

Vamos shifted in Vinyl’s lap, pulling his hand out of their hair just to hold it in their own. Then between Vaya’s long tangents built upon on tangents was a brief enough pause for breath that Vamos asked Vinyl,

“Are you anxious about this blowout? ‘Cause you shouldn’t be.”

Vinyl looked down at them. “And you?” he turned to question back, a twinge of guilt in his gut as he feared Vamos was only deflecting their own emotions again.

But, rather, they scoffed and clarified, “You seem wound. Val keeps talking ‘bout your sister coming over and how we gotta ‘behave’, and now you’re -”

“Val’s just acting like a mayor,” Vaya laughed, “If I were planning this, I’d have set it to a red-eye to make a good impression.”

“And we could’ve put up killer disco decor!” Vamos piggy-backed. The corners of their eyes crinkled with their grin, but Vinyl knew them too well to think the topic had changed so quickly.

“It’s fine,” he insisted. “ ‘M nervous, not bad.”

Vamos’ eyebrows frowned.

“So you are nervous? Shouldn’t this be a party -”

“Without decent speakers it won’t be,” Vaya critiqued.

Vamos nodded.

Vinyl stiffened.

“Said ‘m fine.” He studied Vamos’ face, unsure how else he was expected to respond. And with all this talk of it being a party, they didn’t actually think this was meant to be a lighthearted event, did they? If all went well, perhaps it could be. Hopefully it would be. But he hadn’t invited Kay over just for fun. He didn’t know why he invited her back. Val asked him countless times this past week about it, and “because she’s family” only ever fell on empty ears no matter how many times Vinyl repeated it. “Because I had to” was equally meaningless. Vinyl sighed and leaned his head back. Vamos sat up.

“Not everything good is fun,” Vinyl tried to explain aloud, struggling to find the words.

“But why not? Vaya interrupted, leaning forward, and Vinyl caught a glint of their face as they did. It wasn’t a real question; they were prying him.

“I need to talk to her. That’s all.”

“About?”

Vinyl scowled.

“Did she do something?” Vamos asked with intrigue.

“No. No one did anything.”

Vaya boo’d, “That’s a load of bull.”

Vinyl glared at them.

“C’mon,” they said, pleading with puppy dog eyes the way they always did when it came to sandstorm gossip, “I wanna know!” Their leg bounced with impatient energy. Vinyl held Vamos’ hand tighter.

“You know,” Vinyl stated. “I left and haven’t seen her. You know that.”

“That can’t be it.”

Vamos chastised their sibling’s flippancy under their breath as Vaya went on.

“Like, you’re acting a total suspect about it! You can claim a full cycle that I know the whole detail, but evidently I don’t”

Evidently, Vinyl thought to himself, Vaya still hasn’t matured. At least Vamos was practicing sincerity, once again insisting Vaya drop it. They didn’t, groaning their dissatisfaction. Vinyl pulled his hand out of Vamos’.

“You don’t have to chatter about it,” Vamos promised.

Vinyl was sick of this conversation.

“It was bad,” Vinyl signed with his hands sharply, “Growing up -”

Vaya’s eyes glimmered with enthusiasm. Or was it amusement?

Shut up, he mentally cursed Vaya’s attitude. “Not Kay. Kay wasn’t bad. Family was bad.” Vinyl couldn’t look away from that stupid expression they held. They still didn’t understand? In misplaced contempt, he signed quicker, “Once Mother joked that she might as well have dropped me on my head - Once Father woke me and Kay up telling us we were spoiled and disappointments and it would be our faults when Better Living -”

He slammed his hands down, his fingers rigidly spread to stop himself from confessing anything more. No one needed to know any of this. He swallowed his anger like a pill.

Vaya’s stare was blank, startled out of their mood. Vinyl didn’t need to look to know. Whatever was going through their head now, whatever they were thinking about him, he didn’t need to know about either. No one lived in the Zones untraumatized; Vaya had no reason to resent him and he had no reason to judge their lack of understanding. Still, he kept his gaze turned away.

“Sorry,” Vamos whispered apologizing for their sibling, “Sorry that happened.”

“Wasn’t you,” Vinyl pointed out, his hands still stiff.

Vamos kept speaking, “I’ll - we’ll - both be here for any death discos you start, alright?”

Vinyl exhaled. “Thank you.”

Hardly a second passed before there was a shout from the kitchen:

“Vaya! Vamos! One of yous be useful and help me with this.”

Vaya sprang up, more than relieved to have an escape from this dead conversation. They called back to Val, “Sure!”

“Looks shiny to me,” Vaya said as they closed the oven door. Then, leaning against the countertop with one arm and the other propped at their hip, they added, “Y’know, if it’s a struggle, they’ve got bread in the city for pretty cheap. Just a few carbons last I heard.”

Val held a mug up to his lips, leaning back against the counter opposite Vaya. “I’m not buying city food if I don’t need to.” True to his word, the kitchen (a mess but not unruly) was full of ingredients sourced mostly from the desert alone. By the looks of it, Val was putting together something halfway welcoming, but through this task his short white hair’d been rumpled and his sweater lightly stained.

“Is that cordial you’re drinking?” Vaya asked.

Val shook his head, swallowing. “It’s tea. Be serious. It’s the middle of the day,” he answered, halfway amused and halfway insulted.

“I know it is, but you know how you are - I mean…” They lowered their voice. “You and Vinyl are both acting weird.”

“Weird? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

They moved to stand beside Val. “You know what it means. I’m not gonna waste my hours worrying ‘bout you.”

“Good. ‘Cause I never asked you to.”

Shrugging, they moved on. “Whatever, I bet they have bread at the market too, don’t they? If you really can’t get it from Battery. Y’could get real artisanal stuff at the market I bet, baked into fun shapes or something.”

“Unfortunately I’m not looking to buy bread,” Val snickered, “I’m trying to make it.”

Vaya rolled their eyes.

“Now are you sure it’s alright?”

They glanced at the oven’s window again. “Like glitter. How long are you gonna make me baby you for? I promise it looks just like the ones they got at the kitchen.”

“Sorry,” Val apologized, “You can roll if you want - wait ‘the kitchen’? What’s this kitchen?”

“I’ve been working at a kitchen between gallery openings.” Vaya grinned, seizing this opportunity to share, “Free food to help everyone getting on their feet. It’s total murder, but it’s fun too! I meet a lot of people through it. The whole process has been slow - fixing the tall mess B.L. left us with. They were bad for the economy like you wouldn’t believe - or I guess, Better Living was good for the economy and bad for people.”

“No, I can believe that. Easily.”

“But it’s like I said! We’re making improvements! And I’ve been really, you know.” They picked at their nails. “It’s like, I’m finally a person now. I mean, I was before. And I loved our crew when Vams and I still lived out here - I still do! Of course! But now I’m actually doing something and it’s not like I don’t have time for anything else anymore. I still go to parties and concerts. Work’s between all that. Between everything else, and it feels good.”

“That’s great, Vaya!” Val tapped their shoulder with the back of his knuckles. “Fuck, why haven’t you mentioned this gig before?”

“Have I not?”

“No,” he couldn’t hide his smile. “Hey, I’m proud of you.”

Vaya grinned and draped an arm over Val’s shoulder. “Why don’t you visit sometimes then? I’d show you all the golden parts of town, introduce you to the chiroptera, and you could keep me company over my moonlight shift.”

Val’s face fell. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Come on,” Vaya complained, “No one’d even recognize you!”

“Doesn’t matter. I can’t go. Not yet.” He cleared his voice to keep it from raising. “I want to - I will. I promise. And I’ll be there to cheer on all your openings and -” he waved a hand, thinking, “- I’ll buy out all of Vamos’ inventory for them. Make their day. How’s that? They’re still doing their clothes thing, aren’t they?”

“ ‘Course. The store’s not going anywhere. They’re renovating it over the weekend actually, adding a section to the back for second hand items they’ve restored.” Vaya nodded towards the oven. “Your loaf’s done by the way, bigshot.”

Val cracked the door and nodded when he peeked in. “Thanks.” He grabbed a towel and opened the oven the rest of the way, flooding the kitchen with a fresh wave of heat.

“The Girl’s been visiting us,” Vaya offered as Val placed the metal pan on the counter. “I mention ‘cause she bought one of Vamos’ gems the other day.” They laughed, “How much you wanna bet she was only being nice. She hates our fashion advice and Vamos says she always has. Can you picture her in a blue denim and pink fur coat?”

“Is that a real question?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Val sighed. “Right, so that depends. Is the denim and fur… are those both part of the same coat?”

“Val! What else would I mean?”

Val laughed and shook his head. As he pulled a decorated plate from a half empty cabinet he asked, curiosity and exhaustion in his voice, “So, she visits?” He sat the plate beside the bread along with a knife.

“Yep, sometimes.” Vaya turned to look off nowhere in particular, eyebrows raised as they thought about it. “Her and her mom. You haven’t met her mom but she brings us the best gifts. It's always a surprise when they visit, but always a bonus track one.”

“Guess I really can’t come by the city then,” Val remarked, as if his point had just been made.

Vaya crossed their arms. “Why not? Val, she doesn’t hate you. Witch, I swear, she was at your wedding!”

“And she avoided me the whole night!” He turned to face them again. “She was there for Vinyl, and probably you and Vamos too, really. Just stating a fact.” He held a hand up. “I never cared. But everyone could tell I wasn’t on her radar for the event and, look, I don’t want to make her uncomfortable -”

“Then come visit when she’s not over! She doesn’t camp out. She’s not our roommate!”

“I’ll consider it.”

“You said that last time too.”

“I’m still considering it.” He paused. “What’s with the rush? There’s enough to do in the Zones too.”

“Hardly. Did you hear they cancelled your next bike derby?”

Disappointment crossed Val’s posture. “Shit. You’re kidding?”

“I wish. Old radiation leaked onto the track. They had’a seal it off ‘cause supposedly it’s bad for your skin or - I don’t know. And ‘cause the Racetrack doesn’t belong to anybody, nobody’s gotta solution for it yet. That’s what the tumbleweeds have been telling me at least.”

“Okay, but they just popped a new punk bar in Four. That counts for something in your tourist book, doesn’t it? Me and Vi got a drink there the other day, just to check it out. And it was nice. A herd of leather jackets in there and the bartender promised a better menu should we ever go back. There was this band setting up. Looked like a mix of electric, acoustic, and dyed hair, but we left before they finished soundcheck.” He shrugged. “Seemed like something Volume woulda liked. Made me think of him.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

There was a knock at the door then, and the two startled.

“Fuck,” Val muttered. He glanced at Vaya before heading off to answer it.

Vinyl hovered in the back when Vaya and Vamos, carefree and excited, greeted Kay. Val hesitated too somewhat, his shoulders tense, but he amicably welcomed her in regardless.

She wasn’t wearing her scarecrow jacket today, only a black windbreaker. The living room table was set up as nice as Val could get it. While Kay sat down, he added a few final things to the display; fresh bread and butter, a communal salad bowl, a fruit platter. City protein had been breaded and fried, a dish Vinyl could recall Val throwing a fit over preparing the night before. There was plenty of water, sourced from the nearest desert fridge. And with all this, Vinyl’s stomach turned thinking about what Kay would be obliged to think. By a long shot this was more formal than any meal they’d ever shared as kids, and he’d be the first to suggest Val and his anxiety pushed this event overboard, as if they were desperate or something.

Vinyl’s head buzzed thoughtlessly as whatever casual conversation started. He was present, but not listening. Vamos talked about their entrepreneurship and Val brought up the latest zine to get passed around the Zones, but the words were liquid and Vinyl only caught fragments of what was being said.

“Are they actually setting up agriculture in Zone Six?”

“Who’s even running the Battery Lottery anymore?”

“Didn’t y’hear they’re calling for a heatwave next week?”

Whatever.

Meaningless nonsense over meaningless nonsense. Maybe through psyching himself out, Vinyl got himself worked up over nothing. He’d forgotten to consider, in all his anticipation, the most likely reality of today’s get-together: that it’d be nothing at all. Nothing bad. Nothing groundbreaking. Just nothing. Kay seemed to be getting along with Vaya and Vamos well - once she got over questions about their genders - and if Val was feeling any sort of lingering resentful way, he wasn’t letting it show. Wasn’t this almost worse? Vinyl traced the tablecloth with his eyes. It was quilted together by an artist in Zone One and Val bought it for their first anniversary. Along its seams were stitched with thread little black birds.

He prodded at the food on his plate with his fork. What the fuck was his problem. No one was paying him any mind, at least. He blended into the background of this nothingness and loathed the frustration his own frustration brewed like an ouroboros. Through the white noise, Val smart-mouthed something and Vamos laughed. If Kay left tonight, Vinyl contemplated, without anything good coming of it, what an inexcusable waste this would be. He still needed to talk with her. He only wanted a family. Was that such an unreasonable desire?

“Yes. Of course I was in the city,” Kay said to the table, tugging Vinyl out of his jumbled trains of thought.

“Where are you staying now? Or are you still there?” Vaya asked.

“Cause if you’re there,” Vamos added, “We could totally hang!”

Kay non-committedly rocked a hand. “I’m staying at the Paradise Motel for now. And before that I stayed with an old friend. A little here, a little there, I haven’t decided where to plant myself permanently yet. I never had to worry about it under the Director. When she watched over us, everything was pre-planned and smooth-running. But, you know,” she mused, “thinking back to that day, I can recognize you three from your little army -” she gestured to Vinyl, Vamos, and Vaya, “- but I don’t remember seeing you.” She pointed at Val.

Val inhaled, looking up from his food. “Well that was a long time ago, sweetheart, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Vinyl glanced at Val. Vaya sank in their seat bored.

Kay shook her head. “My memory of that day is burned into the backs of my eyelids. If I watched someone with hair bright as yours in that uprising I’d be able to recall. So, what’s the story? You joined this gang after Better Living passed?”

“No,” Val stated. A sudden wash of anger flattered his features.

Vaya smiled, “You might not believe it but it was Val’s idea in the first place. He had a speech and everything.”

“Ugh, that speech,” Vamos laughed. They explained for Kay, “He just looked different then ‘cause he’s super rusty now. But when we stormed Batt his hair was blazed - not to mention his mask!”

“Super rusty now,” Vaya nodded.

Val opened his mouth as if to throw out something snarky in response, but Kay interrupted.

“It was your plan? So you’re the reason that that all happened?”

“Why, you wanna thank me?”

She looked like she was about to protest but Val kept speaking.

“You’d be an exterminator by now if it weren’t for us - if it weren’t for the Girl I mean. It was her who saved everyone really. But what were you doing to save anyone? If it weren’t for the Girl, you’d still be trapped in Better Living’s ranks. Real scum of the Earth. You should be thanking us for your salvation - and for forgiving you. But instead you still lug your sympathies around right in front of us, and then act like you don’t.” He spoke to the twins: “You should’ve seen her last time. Dressed like a scarecrow and starting arguments before introductions.” Val tilted his head at Kay. “So what if it was my plan to burn the city? When you were a 'crow, how many joys did you ghost without second thoughts? How many orphans did you make? Did you fuckin’ weep when your beloved Director bit it?”

So much for this reunion being “nothing”. Vinyl squeezed Val’s leg under the table, grounding him down from his sudden outburst.

“Why,” Val’s voice was softer now, but his cracking frustration was just as clear. “Why do you want to put up with this?” he asked Vinyl, a genuine tone in his gentle request, “I don’t see why we don’t just… - remember target practice?”

“Val,” Vinyl growled in what would be disbelief if he were speaking to anybody else. In short gestures he signed, “Not necessary. Someone bringing up your past is not a reason to kill. I do not like it when you kill people anymore.”

“Fine,” Val signed back.

“I will not let you hurt family.” Vinyl prayed Kay hadn’t looked up ZSL since their last encounter.

“She’s family?” Val gestured forcefully, “More than the V’s?”

Vinyl glared.

Val glared back before realizing his mistake, self awareness finally catching up to him. He looked down, then to the side, then back to Vinyl. “Sorry -” he began, but Kay spoke over his gesture.

“Hey, it’s not like any of you are better than me though, right?”

Val snapped again without hesitation, “Between a career killing innocents or a duty to pacify those murderers, I think the difference is pretty clear. And I know which side I’d rather be on.” He forced himself to relax by a fraction. “...In my opinion.”

Vamos put down the fork they were fiddling with. “Don’t take it personally, Kay, Val’s always looking over his shoulder.”

But Kay took it personally. “‘Pacifying those murderers’, is that what you thought your job description was? I saw your security footage. We had all sorts of cameras teeming about your Zones and I had the privilege to view them when planning my weeks. I watched what you people were up to out here. I watched you fighting each other. I took notes on you killing each other. I saw dead bodies and car crashes left to sit out in the sun. You must have been making a game of it at some point. Better Living did the math - did you know - they did the math and published it for our monthly insight reports, and even if you removed child mortality from the equation, a killjoy only got around twenty five years give or take. And you think that was because of us? Because it wasn’t us. Yes I worked for Better Living, but your statistics were, primarily, your own damn faults. Or am I wrong?”

“It w - wasn’t one sided,” Vinyl asserted. His voice was unsteady and he felt pathetic but he needed Kay to understand, “Scarecrows were at fault too. I - I watched a drac kill V - dracs and scarecrows killed too.”

“Yes, 'crows killed, but only under the law to protect citizens with no part in your war. But what about you, Vinyl? Do you want to talk mortality when I know you didn’t become a killjoy for any greater good like the rest of you are pretending you did? You left because one questionable influence convinced you it’d be cool.”

“I - I left because I had to.”

“What!”

Vinyl couldn’t tell if her shock was genuine or not.

“You didn’t have to turn into a killer! You didn’t have to be a killer to abandon us!”

Some part of him shaking, Vinyl tensed and spoke loudly, “Can we be finished with - done with this and m - m - move on?”

“No. Now I want an answer: why? Why did you leave? Why did you kill?”

Bullshit, he cursed to himself, This is all bullshit. “Why did you leave? W - what makes - what makes you better than a killjoy? Better Living doesn’t.” If she only realized how flawed her own arguments were, maybe this would de-escalate already.

“Yeah,” Vaya shouted, “Literally you’re both right, what’s the difference? We both dusted our fair shares.”

Not helping.

Kay groaned. “You don’t - ugh. Fine. Let’s assume BL/i was just as shit as you killjoys were with your prideful in-fighting and megalomania complexes, whatever.”

Yeah, whatever.

“I didn’t have a choice either.” She shook her head as she spoke, “Is that what you wanted to hear about right now? That I had no choice?

“Mom and Dad went fuckin’ crazy when you left. You think you had it bad well I could barely so much as speak anymore without Dad turning it into an argument against me or Mom, using you and your shit choices as leverage to guilt trip me. But I don’t blame him. You cost Mom her job once word got out that her youngest was a rebel-wannabe and I don’t even know how Dad kept his position. It was real hell dealing with that fallout - your fallout, to be clear. Dad said he’d shoot you himself if he ever came across you during a hit, if you weren’t already a betrayed carcass somewhere.”

Vaya looked between Kay and Vinyl for a moment, connecting the subtext together. “Wait - your dad was an exterminator?” Kay ignored them. “What was I supposed to do?! Seriously, what did you expect would happen once you walked out? So, no, I don’t regret shit of my life. I’d do it all again. I’d have left for the academy sooner if I could’ve! And if you were put through it all too, you’d have done the same, I guarantee it.”

Vinyl choked on what words he would’ve spouted next. That they did have the same parents, that he obviously didn’t do the same as Kay. He contemplated signing to Val, asking him to translate his next comebacks, but before he could, Val stood up too quickly and practically slammed his palms into the table.

It wasn’t overt, but Vinyl noticed him trembling. On instinct, he reached for Val’s hand, but Val flinched away and said with all the false neutrality he could muster through scripted words, “Right. Sorry for losing my temper earlier. Excuse me.”

As quickly as he could, Val left the table and disappeared down the hall. Where he was off to was evidenced only by the echo of a slamming door.

“Vaya…” Vinyl started signing, but he couldn’t even remember what he wanted translated anymore. He shook his head.

Kay peered between the remaining three killjoys, but Vamos, for one, was seemingly unphased.

“Did y’ever have to deal with these kinds of things from your coworkers too?” they asked, “Or is it only killjoys with screws loose?”

Vinyl kicked their leg and shot them a warning frown.

They shrugged and grabbed a slice of bread from in front of themself to add to the collection on their plate. They really weren’t eating anything, and neither was Vinyl to be honest.

Kay frowned. “Can you just explain to me, please, why you hate my former employer so much? What’s so bad about Better Living that you have to hold them against me? They were great for the city, you can’t honestly argue with that, I mean,” she chuckled, “just look at what’s happened since they left. Battery City gets more trashy every day.”

A chair rumbled over hardwood as Vaya this time stood from their seat. They cleared their throat shrinkingly then muttered, “Someone should go check on Val.”

It was only Vamos, Vinyl, and Kay left at the table.

Kay sighed, “I’m only trying to hold a discussion here. There’s no need for everyone to act so sensitive over everything.” Vinyl watched Vamos stare at the empty hallway their sibling disappeared down. “You don’t think I realize Better Living had flaws,” Kay spoke slower than before, “But the real world is more complicated than your ideals lead you to believe. Better Living’s good outweighed their flaws, and their flaws say nothing about me.”

Vinyl stared directly at her across the table and signed, “You’d say the same about Mom and Dad.”

Neither sibling looked away from each other. It took a few seconds before Kay started, “I don’t -”

“Said I bet you’d think the same of Mom and Dad.”

“- I don’t speak sign language.”

Good.

“If I may,” Vamos spoke up gently, “Better Living’s flaws were - they really did hate anything good or fun. Like, they’d send killologists after us for no good reason ‘cause of it. This one time, Vaya and I were just at this show and before the opening act left, 'crows flew in. Over a Bad Words act. And we - me and Vaya - we didn’t notice at first ‘cause it was a chaotic scene even before the rough housing, but suddenly the rock n’ rollers in front of us dropped and it was elbows to the face and the mosh pit was more a stampede. Then an exterminator climbed on stage and -”

“- What did they look like?”

“Huh?”

“The exterminator,” Kay repeated, “What did they look like?”

“Um, yeah, they had on this - it was like a hazmat suit but with -”

“That was Gene then.” Kay leaned back in her chair. “Senior exterminator until he retired in 2036.” She flashed Vinyl some kind of look. “So not Dad, if you’re wondering.”

Vinyl nodded, acknowledging the clarification. Though, it only made him nauseous that she knew such things off hand. How many of her friends had been the ones to…?

“Anyway,” Vamos concluded, “The exterminator just stood on stage like a shadow and shot the frontman in the head. I think most everyone was gunned down in that fire-fight before we slipped out.”

“What’s your point,” Kay shook her head, clueless.

Vamos shrugged, chewing on their nails. “BL/i was a big deal.”

“So it was a big deal,” Kay repeated as if she were planning something, “Is it my turn to tell a story now?”

Resigned, Vinyl gestured a go ahead.

“I left for the Scarecrow Academy a month after you abandoned us. A month was all I could handle before the cost-benefit shifted and I moved back to Battery City. I signed their contracts, I took their meds, and I put up with a 24/7 work week in their dorms because I knew I had nothing else.

“They were giving me a gift.

“Eleven months later and I’m writing Mom and Dad inviting them to my graduation. It was a major assembly, so I wanted them to be there. I missed them. Funnily enough, however, my mail’s coming back unsent and stamped with an error code I don’t recognize from my personal branch of training.

“So, I go to the post office. I sit through the day long queue. The hours tick by. The walls are decorated with the most beautiful plain white finish. Clients come and go. The chairs aren’t cushioned. And I wonder all the while what the problem is; when will I be able to hear from dear Mom and Dad again? I missed them.

“Finally, my number is called to one of the desks. I show them the scraped up envelope I’ve carried in with me, and you know what the receptionist says to me when I show it to him? He says, ‘Why ma’am, this address does not exist.’

“‘What do you mean this address does not exist?’ I said, ‘I grew up in this town,’ I say, ‘Do you need me to spell out the contract we neutrals signed with BLPS? Once a month we receive a package of aid and once a month we send back produce from our greenhouse and I promise you public mail is allowed to be included in these packages, it says so right in the signed and witnessed deal itself.'

“‘Ma’am’, he says to me, ‘No shipments have been sent to this address within the last six months, because no such address exists.’

“Give me two more weeks of digging around before I figure it out. Between offices and paper files, emails and phone calls, it takes me two weeks before I'm given the blessing to sit in a coffee shop and read a hand crafted automated IM on my phone explaining it all. Turns out, our humble town wasn’t on Better Living’s nice list anymore. -”

No.

“- Our deal was off. -”

Vinyl stood up. Shut up, his thoughts wailed at her, Stop talking!

“- As the kind state service representative put it for me: our parents address - our address - did not exist because the settlement it was meant to describe did not exist. Our entire town was wiped off the map, dusted, burned out, decontaminated, until there wasn’t so much as a germ of rebellion left in it. A neutral’s life is not a right but a privilege. You know this!” Kay shrieked to him, “You goddamn know this!”

No! Vinyl gripped the edge of the table, creasing the tablecloth. He felt himself floating above his body.

“They’re dead, Vinyl. Our parents are dead.”

This couldn’t be real.

Why did he care.

They didn’t love us.

“So tell me again I don’t understand Better Living was flawed. Tell me again, I dare you,” Kay taunted. Whatever emotion her face expressed, it wasn’t sorrow. “Listen to me the next time I tell you the world is more complicated than you like, and if you want to start pointing fingers, I don’t think you should be the one to start.”

Vinyl’s eyes were wetter than they needed to be.

“They didn’t love us,” he signed, “Please,” desperate, “Vamos, translate: they didn’t love us. They loved Kay, they tolerated me, they treated us both like objects.”

They’re mouth dry, Vamos stammered, “No - I. Vinyl, I’m not going to -”

“Vamos.” A whine escaped his throat as his signs tremored worse. “Tell her, she needs - She -” Vamos shook their head, taken aback.

Vinyl signed directly to Kay then, “They didn’t love us - I’m not upset - I don’t grieve," begging, "They didn’t love you either - They deserved it - I - They didn’t love us - They didn’t love me and I didn’t kill them.”

Out front, the Zones heat was a tender embrace. The sun licked old wounds. Ants lived in the orange soil.

Vinyl sat on the front steps.

In the distance, ravens huddled around a tree, a small cloud of moving wings and gusts. Their noises carried over to Vinyl through empty air.

The mountains in the distance were blue.

Vinyl heard the front door open and close behind himself. Slowly, Kay sat down beside him. Neither looked at each other.

“I didn’t mean to… say any of that,” she confessed.

Vinyl huffed.

“Oh!” She fussed with her jacket until she produced a small notebook and a pen from her pocket. She handed it to him. “The, uh, one with pink hair said this would be… helpful.”

He didn’t have anything to say to her, but he took the notebook and flipped to a fresh page anyway.

Kay sat with her knees up and her hands in her lap, silently. Up close like this, Vinyl could see faint wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. She was getting old. They both were. And, Witch, he swore she looked like his sister.

“I’m sorry about your voice,” she sighed.

Vinyl wrote his reply in the notebook: “Don’t.”

Kay read it when he angled it for her.

“I promise I care about you,” she offered.

“You don’t know how to care about me,” he wrote back quickly.

“I -”

“But I care about you too.”

She sighed again, rubbing at her face. “I didn’t mean to blame you either. For any of that.”

“And I did not want to abandon you.”

Kay leaned against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” It was like they were young again, as they watched the desert.

“One more week,” Vinyl wrote slowly. “I want to make something work. I want to talk. Not what today was. Third times the charm?” The last sentence was underlined.

The desert was silent.

“Yeah,” Kay said, “Please.”

Static lived in the air.

Without turning, Vinyl sat down the notebook and held out a hand, palm up. Kay’s fingers interlocked with his.

Like a gentle tinnitus, desert radiation crackled. As far as the eye could see there really was nothing out there other than this house, as if it were suspended in its own void of dust and light.

The desert was empty.

Kay’s arms wrapped around Vinyl, then. Her chin hooked over his shoulder. Vinyl raised his arms behind her back, like he was deciding whether to go ahead or peel her off. He returned the hug. He held her tightly. The fabric of her shirt bunching up under his fists. There was an indescribable ache between them. But neither cried. They held each other, for as long as they could.

Chapter Text

Vinyl traced his hand through Val’s hair meditatively, his husband laying with him on the couch. It was only the Ultra V’s left in the house now, and the evening sun would be settling soon.

Vaya and Vamos bickered over a handheld game at the table, which had been cleared off and cleaned. Their energy was a familiar chaos, their voices filling this space. After some time Val got up to join them, asking if they’d explain the video game to him. He and Vaya were doing better than earlier now. Apparently they’d been able to keep each other company in another room after all, and weren’t too disappointed to hear what they missed out on after they left the table. Val had also apologized, again, for escalating things, to which Vinyl was quick to point out he’d done just as much himself.

But none of that mattered in the present. What mattered now was Vamos’ laugh and Vaya’s passionate explanations of simple game mechanics. Val struggled with the device until Vaya snatched it back to show him the “right way to do it.”

Vinyl smiled. He wondered, as he pulled a fleece throw blanket over himself, why they didn’t do this more often. Why did Vaya and Vamos always need to keep so far away? The way they got along with Val… Vinyl could sit in these three’s audience forever and never grow bored. The world was so soft like this, perhaps he and Val could move to Battery too, one day. Perhaps he’d bring it up in the morning.

His dream started out sunny, just as his last one did. Slow and drunk, the sun spun. Tall clouds in the sky and a cool breeze around them, he lay with Kayla in the dust. They were kids again.

He recognized this scene.

It was the afternoon he’d come out to her. She held his hand. The Earth was at his back.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ll protect you.” Her voice was melodic and thick. “Even if it’s us against the world, we have each other.” She smiled, melancholy behind it but a smile nonetheless. Her thumb ran circles over the back of his hand. Dry grass pricked them.

The night before, it was Vinyl who distracted her after she’d gotten on their father’s nerves again so now, within the span of daytime in white light, this was his returned favor. We have each other, Kayla’s words echoed.

It wasn’t a promise he agreed to.

He sank backwards into the ground like a stone into a sheet and came out again, alone, older and jaded. The world was unlit. The interior of the Nest was around him: concrete, safe, and hollowed out barren. The walls were scorched by some unseen event. Vinyl sat up. On his hands and knees jagged pebbles, ingrained into the thin unwashed carpet, dug into his tender calloused skin.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement to the sound of wings.

There was an Exterminator on the other side of the busted out window. Just a nighttime ghost through all the ash, the Nest still burning. The Batt drone wore a Halloween store mask and stood too still before moving back out of sight. Steam hissed out a pipe somewhere.

The world was dark.

Just now realizing what he just saw, Vinyl stumbled to his feet, gun already in hand, and ran outside. The door thudded into an already cracking wall when it slammed open. Around the Nest’s corner the Exterminator vanished. Instantly, Vinyl followed.

Why?

On the horizon a distant storm flickered and pulsed. And behind the Nest, the Exterminator stood like a shadow.

Why did you kill?

He was on top of them in a blink, pinning them to the grey matter earth with a thud. The Exterminator’s head bounced and Vinyl’s palms found their way to their throat where he gripped. What was it they said to him, again? How was it they’d hurt him? He struggled to remember. They struggled underneath only halfheartedly because they knew, like he did, that everything was as it was meant to be. He had no choice. Vinyl breathed heavy with euphoric guilt and, his gun long forgotten, he struck the Exterminator with a solid hook. Again. And again.

He watched himself in third person. The world glowed ultraviolet. Neon blood didn’t spray but collected over his shaking calloused knuckles. He felt none of it. Gasps split the air. The Exterminator twisted in guilt, trying to shake him off, trying to catch a last choke of sugary air. Ultra Violence pulsed. Something vengeful cracked and the Exterminator stopped struggling - stopped anything but twitching, and Vinyl couldn’t look away from his creation. The world vibrated and his fist against flesh landed orchestramental. This wasn’t who he was. Or this was all he was. Something hurt in him. When vomit teased the back of his esophagus, he reminded himself: he had to do this.

A voice behind him spoke. “Stop.”

He didn’t, because it wasn’t his fault.

“Stop.”

He had no choice.

It was Val speaking, cool and concerned. Vinyl didn’t need to turn to know. But Val’s hypocrisy rolled off Vinyl’s back like sweat and he kept punching, as he had to, the body below him bruised and swollen now beyond recognition, red and purple like a fruit. His muscles ached, his eyes ached, his throat ached. But he had to do this. He’d swear it a thousand times over as broken as the record player he used to frequent.

Wasn’t this exactly like Val had taught him? That this were how things were meant to be; his eyes wide, his open grimace bloodied, and his past simply dead. Beyond dead. Like clay beneath his fists, it was nothing and it would forever be nothing and he would make it so by his own intentions and no evil would hurt anyone ever again and -. Around the Exterminator’s throat he gripped tighter as if there was anything left to be choked off. Dry grass pricked him.

“Vi -” Hands like fire gripped and burned and damned his shoulders. He startled with a sobering yelp, on his feet and looking around himself through blurry wet eyes. But Val wasn’t there anymore.

The Nest was gone, again, too and replaced by rows upon rows of joshua trees encompassing him. Only they were tall, taller than any tree he'd seen before. Their trunks, red as blood, grew straight as poles and were so close together that they shaded all the underbrush and he couldn’t see any horizon beyond them all. This wasn’t the desert, it was no desert he knew. Most of these trees had bodies affixed upright to their trunks by tight rope chords. Bodies stiff with rigor mortis and posed like saints or targets.

Echoes filled the space between the sound of rustling leaves. The ground was as solid as ever where the trees’ roots didn’t grow, but where the roots grew it was wet and dark. Vinyl kept his eyes trained forward as he walked alone. Paying his unwatching audience no attention, he kept his chin raised and his lips straight. He’d done nothing wrong, he’d killed no one undeserving, he’d only done what was necessary for himself and those he cared about. Crows and pigeons rustled the branches seemingly miles overhead, their silhouettes all the same, their calls all the same. Something ate at him. The rocky earth softened up ahead, where it turned to damp earthen soil all around in a clearing. The ground teemed with bugs. The air hummed. Something was wrong. Something’d been wrong ever since the sun rose. A twig snapped behind him and against better judgement Vinyl turned.

The creature was spotted like a bobcat, soft tufted fur following the contour of its thin hoofed legs downward. A long twiggy tail twitched at its feet and ultraviolet eyes like saucers watched Vinyl from the end of its long feline neck. As it moved, it’s pelt shifted over lean muscles like rays of light. It lowered its head and flashed fangs when it spoke.

“Poor soul. Aren’t you happy?” it asked, its voice unfamiliar.

The way it watched him reminded him of the rabbits the V’s used to hunt sometimes, being it was fearless in a way that it didn’t know fear. It stepped toward him over fallen and rotting logs, keeping inescapable eye contact locked.

“You got what you wanted in the end, of course. You won your freedom. You build your life. You now know then, don’t you, that the Past doesn’t exist anymore? No more than a lie does.”

From between its tufts of fur, black pins sprouted and bloomed into feathers.

“So why aren’t you happy with yourself? Are you seeking out your own pain because you’re simply bored?”

The feathers spread across its form like an infection, until that’s all it was - a mass of sooty ink black feathers.

“Who cares if you delivered their final breaths or not. Anything at all could have. You won,” it hissed regardless, “And the Past exists in no corner of this world anymore.”

Out of the feathers, its bone white head appeared again, thin and pointed and without a judging smile, but instead three slits - like respirator holes - where one would have been on its mask.

“For what it’s worth, if I were forced to add something to your string of apologies my bead would say, ‘I’m sorry you didn’t get to kill them yourself’. The masks they hid behind were of the most pitiful variety.”

It shook its short head plumage like a coyote shakes out dust. Twice the size of him, it stepped forward with clawed arms digging into the mud, feathers so long across its scaly skin they might as well have been wings.

“Or is that not what this is about? What is it about, for you? Who is it about?”

Vinyl was frozen in place.

The apparition plucked a feather from its own body and threaded it into Vinyl’s hair, the way friends do when they’re only sandpups.

I - I still feel it - the Past. He didn’t speak the words as they fell out of him, but he knew this apparition heard him clearer than half the assholes he’d met over the years. I still did the things I did.

“Hmm… But do you regret it?”

He didn’t answer.

“And yet, still, you try to find someone to blame for it all. As if you do hold regret too close to your heart. Who do you blame?”

No one.

“It’s not befitting of you to lie so boldly.” it squinted its hollow eyes. “Look.”

It gestured with one taloned wing downward to the ground where between them a corpse lay, half rotted and its bones showing through windows in its skin; ribs and the curves of a skull. Vinyl took a step back, unnerved.

“It’s only death, child, don’t act like you’re unacquainted. I couldn’t begin to list how many of my habitué were sent by you and your partner. But I forgive you. See. Isn’t that easy?”

Still, the cadaver leaked curse into the ground. It destroyed what corner of the world it touched. It infected his thoughts and it decayed and decayed and decayed and decayed. Vinyl pulled out his gun as if that’d help. He needed it gone, he needed it gone; he didn’t want to remember what thoughts crossed his mind. He didn’t want to remember himself. He needed the rot and everything it carried with it to cease to exist.

“Already has,” The Witch seemed amused by his reaction to the body, “It no longer exists. Dead as a lie...”

Bullshit, Vinyl called, bitter, Don’t bring this here. It exists. Bodies exist after death.

The Witch sighed, unsatisfied. “And? You’re alone for once, germ, you can speak honestly. Do you treat the wound or do you treat the teeth that bite? Which are you treating now? Scilicet, you face cosmic nurturing each day yet refuse to see it for what it is because you’re too occupied caring about the Dead and what part you played. -”

- I don’t care -

“- As if you did not all have some part in it. As if a mere child is to blame for what remains of it. Or, as if the Past still holds anything of value for you at all, really. Does it? I doubt so. You’re intelligent, child, with friends on both Sides. You know where your priorities lay.”

As She spoke, She stepped over the body and closer to Vinyl, into his personal space and into his air. Her aura, not meant for mortals, brushed up into his.

“You know yourself.”

Her eyes were electric and Her presence burned, and with the heat of a thousand lived hours fueling the panic he hadn’t felt like this before - he aimed his gun and shot.

He woke up gasping.

Vinyl was still on the couch, but at some point through the night it’d been set into a reclining position to make more room for Vamos who curled into his side. Everything was quiet and daylight glimmering over his eyelids. Careful not to disturb his sleeping friend, he sat up and rubbed his eyes awake. It was early morning. The house was peaceful. But his thoughts stirred.

When he combed his fingers through his hair, a black down feather fell out and onto his pillow.