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It had been several months since the detective agency finally opened up its humble doors to the Seattle area, anyone else who could afford them, or had an interesting enough case to enlist them across the continent. The case of Delgrove’s Fallowshire Academy ended up being the third of the aforementioned options, so it would seem. Farah didn't want them to leave, having just opened their doors, but the draw of a haunted boarding school in rural Connecticut was too much to snuff. It’s not every day a case arises with a gang of former harlequin ghosts from an infamous carnival grounds turned all-girls boarding school goes missing. Haunted boarding schools were a dime a dozen, but circus children ? That was a new one, so they had to take the case.
Besides, Todd had just indulged him and Mona in watching Monsters Inc. as part of their Disney movie evenings before they left. Todd says he hates them, but Dirk is very likely if not utterly sure that those are one of the best parts of Todd’s week. Regardless, Mona felt oddly attached to the grouchy administrator character with the voice that was weirdly evocative of Bart. Mona said she reminded her of a more mean Wakti and wanted to try out the role of a secretary too. It just so happened that the dire need for one to keep track of any incoming casework while they were gone was one of Farah’s biggest concerns and here they are.
Things haven’t exactly been going swimmingly, it is quite the opposite actually. There are lots of administrators here who are very much dead in the brutally murdered way and not in the fun spooky ghost way. The lunch lady is strung up with knives on the recreation room dartboard, the gym teacher swallowed one too many a sword, and the library is mauled to shreds by the resident lion cub, Giggles. These happenings are fairly normal at the Academy as they’ve cohabitated with the ghost circus forever, but of late things have gotten significantly more deathy. But, the harlequin kids had committed murder on camera and slowly have begun disappearing from daily school life and instead have been active in a killing school life—or rather undeath— raising concern among the student population and administration.
One of the students introduced them to Charlotte, one of the circus orphans from the 1890s and a trapeze artist to boot. She was scared the bad men were going to take away her friends and said she’d only allow the Agency to interrogate the whole L.I. Goldman gang if Dirk could find them himself where nobody else would look. It had been several days and they had made absolutely no headway because it turns out finding someone, where nobody else would look, is quite difficult. Charlotte has been making a game of it and promises clues if they can catch her, but considering it’s near impossible to, Farah had been pursuing alternatives outside of Fallowshire’s happy haunts. Todd on the other hand is still attached to his side like the small and abnormally moody chihuahua he can be, slightly annoyed by the whole thing, but it’s not as if he can just will the universe into finding a literally invisible ghost gang.
“Todd, I’m pretty sure that if the circus wanted us to see them they’d make themselves apparent. I mean, come on! That much is obvious,” Dirk says with a flourish as he swings on the creaky vintage swing set that is probably a safety hazard but is good for the whole abandoned circus boarding school aesthetic that really screams ‘I want to send my child to school here.’ “The trapeze artist had the ability to apparate in front of us, so perhaps it’s like a large and rather confounding game of hide and seek.”
“I really don’t think that’s what these poltergeists want, Dirk,” Todd says shaking his head as he loosens and tightens his grip on the swing chain. “Children don’t just pin corpses to dartboards.”
“Sure. All— or rather—most children don’t. But these aren’t your average children. Lest you forget these are actual ghosts,” Dirk says almost too animatedly as his wild gesticulations almost cause him to fall from the already wildly suspicious swing set. Stupid Dirk! Always talking with your hands and forgetting holding on to things.
From the look on Todd’s face and the aura of generalized depression in the air, it’s clear that he's nervous about the whole situation as the death toll rises by the day here which is one of his least favorite types of moody Todd. He too hasn’t been thrilled about what feels like a ticking time bomb of a murder school but he’s been working on trying to accept that not all of this death and destruction isn’t his fault. It’s not exactly working but those are emotions that are dealt with in a cowering under the covers in the creepy dorm room that reminds you suspiciously of a goth Blackwing thing sort of way. And definitely not in an in front of Todd to make him more worried for you especially after the schmorgesborg of Wendimoor related panic attacks sort of way.
Besides, he’s supposed to be the optimistic one, isn't he? So he should do the glass half-full and all that to cheer Todd up and make things marginally more bearable. Cheer him up. After he stops the swing, Dirk lightly nudges Todd with his arm and points at him with a devilish smirk on his face, “And you said you wanted a paranormal case.”
Todd lets out a groan as he kicks at the sand below their feet. “I meant like Ghostbusters . Not Victorian prepubescent murder clowns.”
“Ghosts are non-corporeal, you can’t just bust them, you silly man Todd,” Dirk says melodically as he pats Todd on the back lightly.
“It’s a movie?” Tods says incredulously, shaking his head in utter disbelief at the admittance. Is it? He remembers Amanda showing him something about virginal adults and the phrase but cannot recall anything else. The playful totally platonic not-flirting attempt with said mutual assis-friend isn’t exactly working out today. Shit.
Todd gets up from the swing with a sigh and starts pacing for a moment, running a hand through his hair as he goes. Double shit. He’s even more stressed now.
After a few moments Toss stops and turns to Dirk with a tired and defeated look on his face, “You know what, you can play hide and seek with the little witch. I’m getting Farah.
Before Todd can go to leave Dirk says, “Charlotte,” petulantly, earning a confused eyebrow raise from his assistant who stops in his tracks. Dirk continues, “Her name is Charlotte and she’s a ghost? Calling her a witch is a little insensitive and—”
“Fine,” Todd says, annoyed as he waves off Dirk with a hand, “Go play with Charlotte.”
Come to think of it, Todd had been weird about the whole Charlotte situation. He had just wanted to befriend the poor girl who seems like she desperately needs it considering her friends’ rather stabby turn. She seems earnest, just worried about trusting the wrong people who will hurt her and her friends just like those who did before they died. He sees something of himself and of Mona in her translucent eyes so he needs to find these children. They wouldn’t be doing this if something hadn’t happened that compelled them to act this way. But Todd doesn’t seem to understand that and it’s rather uncomfortable when the two of them aren’t on the same page. It happens often, of course, but it’s not desired like coffee or advertisements on the internet Tube, not the transportation one.
“Todd? Do you not want me to?” Dirk asks as he gets up and tries to place a hand on Todd’s forearm. Todd tends to calm down a bit when he does that for reassurance so he’s filed that in the ‘Todd’ section of his brain within the ‘Todd Tactics’ subfolder for moments like this. He hopes it’ll work this time, perhaps he has a higher probability of it doing so with a light squeeze.
“I don’t know Dirk. Why would I be worried about you co-mingling with one of the conspirators we are supposed to be stopping?” Todd says with biting sarcasm. He shrugs Dirk off in frustration, meaning that said tactic did indeed not work today. Dirk tries to tell himself it’s Todd’s anxiety and not him that’s the problem right now, but his own would like to propose the opposite. He’s just scared and being protective? He can fix this! Solve this! If there’s a solution, Todd will surely feel better.
Dirk grasps at straws to try and find a solution. The detective doesn’t have time to actually work it through, he just tries to word and pray that something comes out that will help assuage Todd’s emotions. “Perhaps if we know why they are haunting the gymnasium, we can ask them to leave or pass onto the next world or something… Or maybe—”
Todd shakes his head and cuts off the detective countering the ramblings spiral. “They’ve been here for over a century. They aren’t just going to pack up and leave. Look, I think you’re going about this all wrong.”
Wrong.
Dirk subconsciously flinches at the word as if he is undergoing electroshock treatment in real-time once more. The word buzzes in his brain and repeats itself like a needle in his brain.
Wrong!
Todd continues trailing off on the case and it’s quite possibly the last thing he can focus on at the moment as his fingers start tense and the incoming breath feels heavier than before. “We should talk to the headmaster. Farah said— Dirk?”
Wrong!
His assistant must notice that things are less than ideal because he immediately switches from annoyed work Todd to protective worrying Todd, but he’s not sure he wants either in this immediate moment. “Dirk, are you okay?” He urges as he takes a step closer to Dirk and tries to place a hand on his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
Wrong!
Dirk flinches and backs away from Todd shaking his head. It repeats in his head like an alarm. A mantra. A self-fulfilling prophecy. He has always been wrong about so many things, he’s never been able to get anything right, and even the things he did tend to just be complete and utter flukes. Besides, a broken clock is still right twice a day.
Wrong!
And that’s forgetting what Blackwing forced him through to try and mend what is, for all intents and purposes, unmendable. They always said the tests were supposed to help, so that he wouldn’t have to live the way he did anymore, reaping death and despair everywhere he touches. They said once he understood that he wouldn’t have to be responsible for things like his father being on the wrong street at the wrong time and being shot in the Revolution. They said he didn’t have to be responsible for his mother being lost to Priest’s assault rifle. They said so many pretty things to him to try and make him make meaning and peace out of his loss and work to make it right but they only caged him like a bird with clipped wings and told him he was
Wrong!
He’s now solved two cases, sure, but there were at least two dozen dead bodies left in his wake surrounding them, and thousands of you count those that Francis had to revive after the bloodbaths in Wendimoor. Farah had been kidnapped, accosted, and tortured on several occasions, and being around Dirk forced Todd through so many electrocutions that they kickstarted his latent rare nerve disease. He is a liability, that much is certain but it’s not as if he has a choice? These signs and intuitions that are wired differently in his brain and in tune to a song that only the universe can hear are not just something he can fix or get rid of. Lord knows he’s tried for years to not feel like some broken thing that nobody can possibly understand least of all himself.
What.
Is.
WRONG!
“Me.”
“What?”
“ Me ! That’s what’s wrong! ” Dirk shouts explosively at Todd and gesturing at Todd with what one might describe as electrocuted Jazz hands. After making the small outburst he is unsure what to do with himself and feels his thoughts start to race and becomes increasingly more aware of the feeling of his clothes on his skin and the sounds surrounding them. He reaches into his pocket for a small cube he has in there and fiddles with it to try and expend his nervous energy. The holistic detective frantically looks for something to do because he feels his mind retraces the ground is why he is what he is and what that thing boils down to is wrong as things begin to spiral.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dirk noticed Todd cautiously approach him, as one would a wounded gazelle. Dirk looks at him, desperate for some sort of reprieve or guidance or whatever the universe vis-à-vis Todd can offer at the moment.
“Can I?” Todd asks, pointing what feels like an awkwardly flat finger gun at Dirk’s shoulder. It’s one of their shared ways of asking if it’s okay for touch when moments like this with Dirk and the attacks come up with Todd. His assistant shouldn’t have had to pick up on that sort of thing and how to help, but Dirk is glad he filed that info in the ‘Dirk Tactics’ brain subsection or whatever Todd would call the hypothetical file system.
When Dirk indicates it’s alright, Todd places a hand on Dirk’s shoulder to try and help steady Dirk against the ramblings spiral that often inevitably leads to panic. He feels the warmth of Todd’s hand rub small circles around his upper back, giving him enough space to not cause his senses to overload, but enough to feel grounded.
As Dirk fidgets with a small cube in his pocket with one hand, he turns to Todd and encircles him into a tight hug with his other. After indicating consent with a small nod while pressing his face into Todd’s neck, Todd gently brings his arms around Dirk to envelop him. He chokes out a silent sob into Todd’s neck, hoping he doesn’t actually start crying and stain Todd’s new jacket from Amanda who insisted he needed another. But Todd doesn’t seem to care as he lightly pats his hand on the fuschia leather jacket, giving Dirk a sensation to focus on while he takes in his assistant’s warmth and a scent reminiscent of home and their Seattle apartment. He offers words of kindness and comfort in hushed whispers to help bring him back to earth.
After a few minutes of it, Dirk taps Todd thrice with his finger, and slowly breaks free of the embrace, and plops down on the cobblestone pavement. Todd places a hand on Dirk’s shoulder giving it a light squeeze before following in suit to sit across from Dirk.
“What’s going on?” Todd asks calmly while looking upon Dirk with such care and concern in his eyes that makes the detective positive he isn’t deserving of especially after this whole display. He wants to tell Todd, he really does. But it’s far too long a story with far too many tears or more often than not, silent sobs, to cry and the last thing they need at the moment is that. Especially when he already feels guilty for all this.
When Dirk doesn’t respond, zoning out and too focused on a spot in the pavement to engage Todd, the detective assistant tries to elicit a response. Todd whispers a one-word inquiry, “Blackwing?” to which Dirk nods.
“May I ask what set you off?” Todd asks with the same firm and gentle kindness as before. Dirk looks up at Todd for a moment and makes vague gestures that he hopes will indicate the problem so he doesn’t have to discuss it.
“Is there something I said?” Todd asks, meaning the gesticulations did not indeed work. Shit.
With a small affirmative nod, Dirk simply utters the word, “Wrong.”
“Dirk, that’s two opposite answers,” Todd says, looking utterly confused and come to think of it what he did is in monetary retrospect a little confusing.
Dirk lets out a sigh and tries to formulate words in his brain that does not seem to be working in the way he desires it to at the moment. “No,” he says before trying again with “Well, it’s—” which also doesn’t work. He needs to just get it out. With a deep breath, Dirk just mumbles, “It’s the word ‘wrong.’
Todd nods in affirmation before inquiring, “Is this because I asked what was going on or—”
“No,” Dirk says, shaking his head. Why couldn’t Todd just be a psychic too so they don’t have to do the whole hard communications thing in times like this? But he needs Todd to understand and Todd seems to want to as well. The detective takes another deep breath, “Before then you said I was going about things wr—“
Dirk winces and stops himself before even saying it in relation to himself. Todd must notice the visible discomfort because he offers, “Incorrectly?”
Dirk nods in affirmation and continues, grateful for the assistance, “Yes. You had indicated I was incorrect about the case and well, Blackwing.”He stops there, not wanting to go further hoping that the word charged with so many negative connotations and associations is enough.
“I’m sorry, Dirk. I didn’t know,” Todd says with a look of concern plastered on his face. Shit . Todd must think this is all his fault.
Dirk shakes his head vigorously and begins to word-vomit to try and fix things. “How were you supposed to? It’s not like I’m exactly telling everyone all the thrilling things that happened to me in my quaint government prison for psychics, am I Todd? That would be inconceivable, inconsiderable, and not to mention inconvenient of me to do such an utterly ridiculous thing.” The holistic detective lets out a bitter laugh that likely betrays the slightly manic smile on his face when uttering such things. He’s fine! It’s fine!
“Dirk. You’re doing the thing,” Todd says firmly as he gently lays his hands on Dirk’s forearms.
He knows he’s doing the thing where he tries to ramble on end and laugh and smile off his cripplingly traumatic past to make people not worry about him, which does in fact make people much more worried about him. He’s not sure how to stop himself from doing it it just happens and trying Dirk just stammers, not quite sure what to do or say. “Sorry. I just—”
“There’s no need to apologize, if anyone should be it’s me,” Todd says with a small shrug as he runs his hands down Dirk’s forearms to take both of Dirk’s hands in his. His detective assistant is life assisting him once more with the whole grounding thing so he doesn’t, as Todd puts it, ‘spin-out.’ It’s thankfully starting to work as it usually does with Todd and for which he is eternally grateful.
Todd looks upon Dirk earnestly with piercing blue eyes full of compassion and concern. With a deep breath, Todd says, “You do know if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. I won’t pressure you or anything but I care about you and don’t want you to keep this stuff all bottled up if it’s hurting you. Trust me, I’ve been there.”
“You care about me?” Dirk says, looking into Todd’s eyes with a sense of wonder. It’s not that Dirk doesn’t know Todd cares, anybody who has stuck around with him this long has to, as weird as it is for him to admit to himself. But Todd can be as emotionally available as a cactus, and the extremely spiky ones at that, at times that little admittances like this are rarities. Coming out of a minor panic over Blackwing isn’t exactly the best time for him to be indulging in this, but he’ll take what he can right now, which is that Todd cares for him. There was a lot of the signature Todd guilt thrown in there which he’ll heavily contest later but for now, this is just what he needs.
“No, I’m here for the six-figure paycheck and dental,” Todd says bluntly as he nudges Dirk with the elbow of their intertwined hands. When Dirk rolls his eyes at him Todd stifles a small chuckle and tries to hide his smile as he squeezes Dirk’s hand “And, come on, dude. That’s really what you’re getting out of this?”
“It’s rather nice is all!” Dirk stammers out quite quickly as he tries to hide the flush that is likely forming on his stupid traitor face from Todd. After squeezing Todd’s hands and taking a deep breath, Dirk looks back up to Todd with resolve and sincerity, “But yes, Todd. If I’m feeling up to it after the whole stupid killy kid nonsense I will let you know.”
Dirk gives Todd’s hands one more right squeeze before letting it go and falling into a comfortable silence. For a few moments, he tries to steal glances at Todd in the moments where Todd seems far off in thought and to take in how grateful he is for having this man whom he loves so dearly in his life, even if the said man doesn’t know it yet. He knows the thankful part of course, Dirk is profusely vocal about that, just not the whole love thing, but live and let live.
After a few minutes of unadulterated calm, Todd nudges Dirk with his shoulder and a grin on his face which means Todd is up to something which is, more often than not, wildly suspicious. He simply says “Charlotte,” before continuing with, “I think calling her a killy kid is a bit insensitive.”
While Dirk mentally admits that is in fact a remarkably witty thing to say and he appreciates the gesture to try and cheer him up through playful banter and flits just looks, Todd is also being a cheeky little shit and needs to suffer for his sass.
“Ah, yes. Tremendous assisting, Theodore ,” Dirk retorts in a matter-of-fact tone as he tries to keep a straight face, which is, of course, a Herculean effort when you are galaxies away from being remotely heterosexual. The look of sheer betrayal on Todd’s face is enough for Dirk to burst out in laughter next to his deeply offended combination assistant-and-best-friend.
“Remind me why I’m nice to you?” Todd says with a glare, trying to look stern and upset with Dirk. It’s clear Todd’s unable to when his charming little smirk is peeking through which is on the detective’s list of top thirty-four Todd expressions.
“You said it yourself, you care about me,” Dirk says smugly as he presses his pointer finger into Todd’s chest playfully. He’s relieved that Todd has dropped the conversation until he is ready to have it and isn’t pushing him as many people have done before. He’ll tell Todd in time and the comfort of their apartment with its growing litter of kitten-sharks and dingy yet ridiculously homey sofa.
Until then, if he can keep up the lighthearted and completely heterosexual repartee that enables him to get through the day, he’ll be okay. Francis said his job is to make sure people are where they need to be and according to the universe’s fate and Todd’s own free will, Todd is here and cares for him. Dirk’s not sure if it’s to the same degree of his care which is more dictionary definable as something along the lines of being completely and utterly besotted with Todd. Still, as long as Todd’s here to ground him, he can do his damnedest to take what’s thrown at him, including occurrences like this, unsavory as they are.
“And that was my first mistake,” Todd says, shaking his head for what must be the umpteenth time today but the first time with the signature soft smile he tries to hide. He gets off the ground and wipes his hands on his jeans. “Let’s go get hide and seek with the poltergeist over with.”
Todd offers his hand to help Dirk up and the detective takes it into his. He’s thankful, for the first time since they’ve arrived in Connecticut, that this at least makes him feel right.