Chapter Text
Ghoul poked his head in the door. “Party? Kobra’s acting really weird.”
“What d’you mean, ‘weird’?” Party mumbled, pushing themself up on their elbows.
“Just- weird. Come help.” With that, Ghoul disappeared into the hallway. Party groaned and stood up from where they’d been laying on the floor, glowering down at Ghoul as he led the way out of the small space into the cafeteria. It took them a minute, but Party finally spotted Kobra under one of the booths, knees held tightly to his chest. He stared up at the three of them with the expression of a cornered rabbit.
“He darted under there a few minutes ago,” Jet said softly. “He won’t respond to us.”
Party swallowed their anxiety and took a step forward. Kobra’s eyes were locked on them, near their hands or their thigh. They realized with a sinking feeling that he was staring at the empty holster they’d forgotten to take off.
“Hey,” they said, “you’re okay, you’re safe here.” They were kneeling just a few feet in front of him now. “Can you talk?”
Kobra was silent for a moment, but he responded, voice raspy and small. “Yes.”
“Good, good. Can you tell me your name?” Maybe he was having a flashback, like they’d seen happen to Ghoul. They all knew how to deal with those on some level, and Party could get Kobra stable again.
“Can…” He trailed off. “Can- can you tell me yours?” Kobra’s voice was clearer now, with a paranoid edge Party hadn’t heard in years. Jet or Ghoul shifted behind them, but they were more focused on the lack of recognition in their brother’s eyes. Their heart pounded, and they had to choke back a whimper.
“It’s Party,” they breathed. Kobra’s face twisted into confusion, and they added “Poison.” but that only made his eyes widen in fear again. Fuck, that’s such a Crow name. “You can call me Spark.”
Kobra seemed to accept that, so Party asked again, “Do you know your name?”
The panic was back. Fucking Witch, sorry, Kobra. “It’s okay! Your name is…” Kobra’s name would probably scare him, too. Why had they never noticed how much they sounded like Scarecrows? “Birdie.” Back to basics. When he didn’t object, Party let out a sigh. They moved to sit properly and looked back briefly. Jet had moved to sit against the bar, but Ghoul was still standing off to the side. Both of them looked thoroughly disturbed. Join the fuckin’ club, my brother doesn’t know who I am.
Party took a breath, not wanting to lose any more composure in front of this very scared Kobra. It was downright haunting to see him like this again, the last time he’d been this quiet and disoriented was when he was still on BLI meds.
Wait. Kobra didn’t recognize Party’s name, but he seemed to trust them more than Ghoul or Jet- he wouldn’t even respond to either of them. It was like he was a kid again.
“Uh, another thing, Birdie, how old are you?” The question felt strange in their mouth.
Kobra paused. “How old is- how old…” He shook his head, a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “Edward? How old is he?”
It was like the diner itself froze over. Party heard Jet hiss through his teeth, but couldn’t bring themself to look at him or Ghoul again. Of course a younger Kobra would use his brother as a baseline. He had to say it in front of the Witch and everyone, didn’t he? Their eyes stung with the threat of tears, but they forced their voice as even as possible to ask, “Do you have a guess?”
“...Thirteen?” Kobra still looked so afraid, looking between all three people in front of him.
“That makes you ten, does that sound right?”
“...Yeah.”
“Okay,” Party finally breathed out, leaning back and bracing themselves with their hands against the old wood floor. “Thanks for talking to me, Birdie, you did a good job.” They sat back up and moved to stand, but held out a hand first. “Do you want to come out from under there? We can get you into bed.”
Kobra took their hand in his own shaky one, holding tight as Party pulled him up. Bed was a strong word, but for once Party was glad the only mattress in the diner was in the same room. They didn’t want to have to take a distrusting Kobra down any dark hallways. Ghoul caught Party’s eye briefly and all but flinched away, saying something under his breath about blankets. Party lowered Kobra down to sit on the mattress, holding his frightened gaze as he dug his fingers into their arms. Ghoul returned with the same pink comforter they’d used when Kobra and Party had first arrived at the Diner. Party nodded a thanks despite the irony- it was their best blanket.
“I know you’re scared right now,” Party said softly, carefully draping the comforter over Kobra’s lap. “But all of us here only want to help you. Do you want anything in particular?”
Kobra’s eyes trailed down Party’s arms to where he was still gripping them, breathing shallowly. He suddenly yanked his hands away to wrap around himself. “Just want Edward.”
Party glanced behind them, where Jet and Ghoul were valiantly pretending to ignore the situation as they hung by the bar. They sighed and turned back to Kobra, leaning closer and lowering their voice. “I’m right here, kid. Just different. See?” They pulled out their dog-tag from under their tanktop and gestured to the chain disappearing under Kobra’s own shirt. Kobra grabbed the necklace and held it up, eyes widening at the engraving.
“We have each other’s,” Party supplied.
“In case- case we get caught,” Kobra finished.
Edward Alexander Hille
4057 W 64th ST
Lucas William Hille
4057 W 64th ST
Kobra’s hands began to shake, but he didn’t make any movement towards or away from Party. “You said- Edw- you said… you’re Spark. You said-”
“My name’s Party Poison, actually. And it’s not like this tag says ‘Birdie.’ We’ve both changed. You’re name’s Kobra Kid. You picked it yourself.”
“...You picked Birdie,” Kobra recalled. Party held back their excitement at Kobra’s memory seemingly returning. If they pushed him now and he got scared, they’d be back at square one. Kobra took a shuddering breath and ran his hands up and down his arms, then looked down startled. “These are old,” he murmured, tracing a patch of scarring.
“Yeah,” Party said, throat tight again. “You haven’t done that in a little while.” Kobra had far from stopped hurting himself, but it wasn’t constant the way it had been in the City.
Kobra continued feeling his arms, recollection slowly building in his eyes. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck. Party.”
“You back, Kobra?”
“I’m fucking-” Kobra’s head jerked up, staring back at Party. He scrambled to his knees and threw himself into Party’s chest. “Fuck- I can’t fucking… I couldn’t- I-”
“It’s okay. You’re okay, you just got a little stuck there.” Party combed their fingers through Kobra’s hair, pulling him even closer.
“Everything was- I don’t even… I don’t know, I just, I was so small, I was so small, I was-”
Party looked around again, but Jet and Ghoul were nowhere to be found. They weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or nervous. They tucked Kobra’s head under their chin as he babbled. “You don’t need to explain if it’s hard.” Kobra quieted down then, clenching and unclenching his fists in the back of Party’s shirt. This, at least, was familiar. Party could hold their brother tight, curling around him like a shield, a cloak, an animal, they could hide him from piercing eyes and harsh winds and outstretched hands and they could hold him closer still, until they weren’t sure when they ended and he began. Until they weren’t sure it mattered.
Kobra shifted, and Party quickly let him go to cup his face and wipe at the tear tracks on his cheeks. Kobra huffed with a smile and lifted a hand to Party’s own wet face. “This is a mess,” he laughed.
Party sighed, leaning into the touch. “When was it ever not?”