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The first thing Ashe noticed was his splitting headache. His head throbbed and body ached as if he had been running on empty for a full marathon.
Beneath him was cold concrete pushing into his back, along with two other shapes he wasn’t sure he was ready to address yet. The tingling in his cheeks whispered that the days of winter had come. His hair was tangled and matted under the weight of his head - have to fix that, he noted - but for now, he was staring straight up.
Standing directly above him was William Wisp, with dark circles that almost rivaled his own and a blackened eye. When the other boy saw Ashe open his eyes, a crooked half-grin spread across his face and he sighed.
“Did you do it?” Ashe whispered.
William chuckled. “You tell me.”
“Ashe!” Dakota cried out, slamming himself head-first into a massive hug. “Oh my god, I missed you!”
“How long was I gone for?” Ashe choked out. He almost didn’t want to know, and from the looks on his friends’ faces, they didn’t want him to know, either.
“It was a while,” Vyncent eventually admitted.
“A full year, I think,” Dakota frowned, not noticing William wince at the mention of how long it had really been.
“Oh.”
“But you’re here now!” Dakota tackled Ashe into another massive hug. “And the demons are all gone!”
Ashe froze. “Demons? What- what demons? There were multiple?”
“Don’t worry about it,” William placed a hand on Ashe’s shoulder. “It’s all taken care of, all you need to do now is rest.”
Vyncent helped Ashe stand, and he nodded, his vision a blur. Despite what William had said, he did worry about it. His stupid, self-sacrificing move had both landed his friends in a year’s worth of trouble to save him, and it had thrown bystanders into the danger of the Spirit World. The guilty pang in his heart was overpowered by his exhaustion - what had the Trickster done with his body?
Ashe’s legs almost collapsed beneath him a few times, but the other three teens were able to get him to the Winnebago before he collapsed in a tired heap of tattered robes.
-
“That should be it!” William set the pair of scissors down on the counter and nodded. “I tried to make it even.”
Ashe stared at the pile of his matted hair sitting in the sink, then cautiously glanced up to see his reflection in the mirror. His hair wasn’t even, but he wasn’t about to complain. It was weird, he thought, to not feel the constant swishing of his hair brushing against his shoulders, but he was more focused on the two wings sprouting from his back that, at some point during the past year, decided to make themselves permanent.
“Do you like it? ‘Cause I know I have at least a bit of cash left over from the Winnebago, we could get you an actual haircut if you wanted -”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Ashe swallowed. “It’s good, it’s just weird to be back.”
“I’m just sorry it couldn’t be sooner,” William sighed. “But at least you’re back now.”
“Yeah.” Ashe couldn’t tear his eyes away from the wings - his wings. A constant, physical reminder that he had made the stupidest choice of his life.
“Are you okay, Ashe?” William put a hand on Ashe’s shoulder and turned him around to face him. “Like really okay.”
Ashe pondered. “I guess I’m okay enough.”
“I know I don’t know what you went through with that, but we’ve both had some weird, fucked shit happen with the Spirit World, and…” he trailed off, then shrugged. “Just know you can talk to me, okay? I’ll always listen.”
“Yeah.” Ashe wasn’t focused - he couldn’t focus. The wings taunted him, each slate gray feather another reminder of the year he missed. “I think I’m gonna go on a walk.”
“You up for it?” William furrowed his brow. “I mean, I’m not sure if the Trickster ever slept, so I just wanna make sure…”
“Just goin’ around the corner,” Ashe nodded. “Getting some fresh air.”
“Cool,” William nodded back in an attempt to hide his very obvious worry. “Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
-
Ashe folded his arms in on himself, shivering. On his way out, he had forgotten that his choice in shirts had been limited, and therefore he was left without any sort of sleeves or jacket. He felt a pang in his chest as he saw his breath fog up in the air - he had been gone for so long it had come back around to Winter again. That was a full Spring, Summer, and Fall he had missed spending with –
“Hohohon! It is silver boy again!” A familiar French voice called out across the empty suburban street, shaking Ashe from his thoughts. “Where have you been? I have not seen you in so long!”
“I’m not in the mood, Le Frog,” Ashe sighed. “Can you just not do whatever crime it is you’re trying to do?”
“I do no crime!” Ashe turned to face his “nemesis” and was shocked to see a relatively normal looking man - a green flannel unbuttoned on top of a plain white shirt, a simple pair of blue jeans. The only outlandish thing about him was the fancily curled mustache that looked almost a little too large to fit the man’s face.
He stared. “Huh.”
“I was getting groceries, yes?” Le Frog held up a plastic bag, the Rusty’s logo printed on the side. “You seem sad, silver boy. Do you need to talk to someone?”
Ashe furrowed his brow. “We talked… once, maybe. Why are you so insistent on talking to me now?”
“Well,” Le Frog - he probably has an actual name - casually strolled over to a nearby park bench and gestured for Ashe to sit next to him, “I do not like to be sad, yes? Being sad, it does not make you happy. And you, silver boy, you seem as though you are not happy.”
“Tell me about it,” Ashe scoffed, plopping himself down on the bench. “Got possessed for a year, accidentally made it so a bunch of other people got possessed, my friends had to clean up the mess.”
Le Frog nodded. “It is not easy to be possessed, no, but it is not your fault!”
“It is, though. I’m the one that summoned the Trickster. I knew he would possess me, but I just wanted…” Ashe sighed and put his head in his hands.
“You want them to be safe, yes?”
“Yeah.”
“Well we are the same, you and I,” Le Frog continued. “I do my best to protect my family, you do your best to protect yours. Sometimes, some things do not work out, but that is not our fault. Sometimes a car does not start, is it the fault of the driver? Sometimes, a store runs out of product, is it the fault of the cashier?”
“I still should have…” Ashe trailed off, too tired to say anything else.
“You feel this way, yes, but none of this is your fault, it is the fault of the Trickster.”
Ashe nodded. “I know that, it just feels like it’s different.”
“And that is okay! Sometimes we feel things that do not make sense. Things do not always have to make sense, yes? You are sitting with your nemesis on a park bench, not normal, yes?”
“You’re not my nemesis.”
“On that, I am sure you will change your mind someday soon.” Le Frog reached over and gently gave Ashe a pat on the shoulder. “But for now, live life to the fullest, and without worry.”
“Yeah,” Ashe stared, stunned, “I can try to do that.”