Work Text:
The truth is, relationships are complicated.
Crispin tinkers with his contraptions, triangulates the best angle to attach shitty clown legs to his art--he splashes his canvases with often jester-themed, gregarious colors you'd see only in children's bouncy ball pits.
In all of his life, the only uncomplicated relationships he's ever had were with the circus clowns he'd ran away with. His family tiptoes around him as if he's still twelve, still quickly glances at him whenever they make a joke about him running away. No matter how many birthdays they celebrate, or gifts they offer--Crispin will never be able to convince them that he's here to stay.
At thirty-eight years, he knows he lost his family in a different way that day, the same thing they had lost in him.
Trust takes many forms but it's irreversible in ways.
Machines are much easier. They're wrong and you fix them, and they're good as new.
Relationships are much harder.
You see, it's not as if he doesn't regret it when he closes the door behind him.
It's the first step towards repairing what he had with his family, who are waiting for him, at the bottom of the steps. He's been living with Bee this whole time, been anxiously deliberating about how to reintroduce himself to his family. He's nervous and feels guilty because although he only stayed with the circus for ten years, he's spent a few more avoiding them.
But when the door closes behind him and he walks into the arms of his newly reconciled family members, he takes in a deep breath and tries to hold back his emotions about being broken up with, because damn it--he can't be this vulnerable in front of his family yet.
It'll take years for that to happen.
(If he were good at communicating, it'd happen like this:
"I just wanted you to love me the way I loved you," he'd grit out. "But I always felt like you could lose me and be fine. And that's not how it was for me."
And he thinks she'd look at him as if she didn't understand, like a robot not programmed to compute.)
"So...you're a robot," he finally manages to toss out, standing near the railing of the weird ship/island/home thing they're currently on. It's much easier to look out into the expanse of the sky than to look at her, wondering if she's feeling the same as he is while knowing that she doesn't.
Despite his hardest efforts, he can't help taking a quick glance at her before wrenching his eyes back to the sight before him. He forces himself to not register what he's just seen.
He's a little proud that he's able to do so.
"Yeeeeah," Bee sheepishly gets out, rubbing at her arm. "It's...kind of a secret my dad wanted me to keep, for my own good."
Crispin snorts.
"Explains why you don't like swimming and why you were so heavy to hold," he says while rolling his eyes, desperately trying to keep himself from sounding desperate and weird. Trying to sound as if he isn't restraining himself from asking questions that would out how much he had actually felt for her.
"Haha."
And then another awkward silence.
It's uncomfortable, standing next to someone you used to love like this. In truth, that love was never really drained, just overshadowed by other things like family and loss of trust. And there had never been any resolution, no hole to drain out all of the bad feelings.
Only time. But time adds rust and corrosion to machines.
In a brave (and stupid) move, he decides to turn his head to look at her and--
He can't stop himself anymore.
He blurts out a question that isn't as bad as the one he actually wants to ask (did you ever love me, because he knows the answer is no), but is still pretty bad in the grand scheme of things.
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
And Bee winces, so he looks away, blinking hard. It's sunset and the sun is setting right in front of them, so he chuckles and blames it on the sun before excusing himself.
He doesn't look back to see if Bee looks at him, because although he's a Wizard, he's always been more of a clown.
(If Bee was built of mechanical parts and gadgets, then why wasn't he enough? Cars and machines and computers and weapons need regular upkeep to keep being fine and he was a mechanic but she was a girl and--)
When an evil, manicured hand emerges from a black hole in the sky to grab Bee, his first response is to save himself.
(He's a coward, something that he's never been able to curtail. What he was at twelve, is what he is at thirty-eight--and what he will be until the day he dies. Staring at Bee's strong back, watching her face for something he'll never be able to confront, something he'll refuse to even look at until it's unbearable.)
(It says something that the two bravest things he's ever done was break up with Bee and come home. And he's not even sure if those choices were right.)
And he watches Bee and her weird dog-cat thing pull out weirder weapons than what even HE can conceive, watches them run up to the stream of rainbow ooze dripping down from that wounded hand.
Sees them hold their breath and swim up that colorful bloodstream and watches the black hole grow smaller and smaller--and suddenly realizes that they're in danger.
His mouth and legs freeze up, even though Cass and Deckard are pulling him by the shoulders of his shirt and pulling him even further away, although Deckard keeps throwing worried looks back at the black hole. Cass keeps on shouting something at him, although nothing can tear Crispin's frozen eyes away from Bee as she occasionally dips out of the stream to breathe, only to go disappear and go back in again.
(What can he do, what can he do, what can he do to make himself useful, to make himself lovable--)
And then the hole closes, the stream stops, and when all of the liquid stops flowing and there's no Bee or Puppycat on the puddle on the ground--he hunches over on his knees and pukes.
"We've got to do something! Bee could be anywhere," Deckard pleads to his siblings, and although Crispin is obviously just as eager to get Bee back, there's a larger part of him that's despondent. "Who knows what's happening to her right now?"
Crispin watches Deckard pace around, watches him grab at his hair and gesture in frustration. Glances around the tablet and sees that almost everyone is looking away from Deckard, not meeting his eyes.
Merlin intently focuses on the younger of the twins, holding the child to his chest. Cass rests her face on her hand, although her gaze is downcast. Even Toast has the decency to not act out like she usually does, although she does lean on Merlin a tiny bit, cradling the other child.
Crispin is the only one to meet Deckard's gaze. Deckard almost glares back, defiant in how much he wishes to go save Bee, almost challenging Crispin and the rest of his family to stand up and do something.
(But they've lived through times where one of them hasn't been with them, they've lived through times when the family wasn't whole. To them, family is the most important--and they all know this.)
He wonders when his younger sibling grew to care for Bee so much.
Howard, as the middle child, speaks up pointedly, arms across his chest. Although there's clearly some sort of chagrin within him, his face is determined as his voice is stern.
"Deckard, we can't all coddle Bee. She's put herself in danger for Puppycat and we can't put our lives on the line for her just because of recklessness," he says, flipping his hair over his shoulder to emphasize his point. "We only just got the family back together, Deckard. You only just came back from cooking school. Merlin's a dad and just finished medical school."
Despite Howard not looking at him, Crispin feels something gnawing at his chest.
(Crispin's been back a while but it'll always feel like he's just come back.)
Deckard's shoulders slump a little, but Crispin sees something in his little brother's eyes that the others can't. At least, not while they're actively avoiding Deckard's gaze.
"Fine," Deckard relents, aggravated, walking out of the kitchen.
This time, more eyes than just Crispin's trail Deckard's path as he disappears behind the corner.
He doesn't spend too long waiting outside next to the window. Leaning against the wall isn't too bad, considering the amount of years he's spent perfecting his bad boy lean at the circus. The perfect stance to mess with his younger sibling.
"Hey, little bro," Crispin says nonchalantly, the moment Deckard's foot comes into view. He was wondering how long it'd take for Deckard to slip out--Merlin and Toast were only just able to finally get the twins to sleep, so he figured it wouldn't take long before his littlest brother snuck out.
"AH!" Deckard yells in surprise, before jolting and hunching in on himself. He glances furiously behind him to see if anyone's woken up. It's 2 in the morning though, so it's a time everyone's usually asleep except for Cass--although Crispin did overhear her yell in frustration at 9 pm when she realized all of the energy drinks were suddenly gone.
Deckard's a smart one, drinking all of the energy drinks so Cass can't stay awake.
"Dude! You can't do that to me," Deckard complains to Crispin. His hands are tense, body rigid, struggling with internal energy like a star that at the slightest sway, could turn into a white dwarf or a black hole.
(Okay, maybe not that smart to drink all of the drinks.)
Deckard suddenly frowns and loses most of the tension in his body, confused.
"What are you doing awake?"
Crispin smirks and stands up straight, lightly grinding his fist into Deckard's hair.
"Can't have my younger brother go by himself, right?"
Deckard looks at him strangely and he coughs lightly, suddenly self-conscious.
He turns around and clears his throat.
"Anyway, you must have some sort of idea right?"
"Okay your idea sucks."
Trudging through Bee's trash in the dumpster is not what Crispin had thought Deckard had in mind.
"WELL IF YOU HAVE AN IDEA," Deckard yells from inside the dumpster, "OR IF YOU'D LIKE TO BE THE ONE IN HERE INSTEAD, FEEL FREE."
Crispin grimaces.
"Noooo thank you."
He stays silent and keeps watch while sounds of rummaging continues behind him, the night cold and ominous in front of him. It's strange to him now that the moon looks like the same, even though they're on a floating island. And this is all because of Bee. And Puppycat. Bee, who was his ex-girlfriend, made their entire island float up into the sky and fight space demons.
Oh my god I'm one of those dudes with a crazy ex, he realizes, although it's rich coming from a 38 year-old man obsessed with clowns. And has family issues.
(It's also a disservice to call Bee, who is a literal robot created with space magic, crazy. For all he knows, space magic robot women could just be like that.)
The rummaging noises soon stop however.
The dumpster lid pops open with a surprisingly quiet clank and Deckard hauls himself over the edge of the dumpster, collapsing onto the ground and patting his clothes to get most of the visible trash off.
"Got it!" Deckard says with satisfaction, a pink-and-white striped envelope in his right hand. He grabs Crispin's arm and then hits the center of the envelope before a bright white light envelops them both.
"I N T R U D E R A L E R T," says TempBot, opening its gaping mouth of burning flames.
"W-wait, hold on! I was with Bee and Puppycat here before, I'm not an intruder!" Deckard protests, hands out in front of him. Deckard is still lightly spinning, the lack of friction to orient his direction being hard for him to overcome.
TempBot pauses and looks at him, temporarily putting a damper on the fire.
"Oh. Right. You helped with the donut worker listing," it says, before its eyes cross the screen and glance at Crispin. "This one, though. Is he new? If so, I am afraid you haven't worked enough jobs for you to refer a new applicant. He will simply have to be destroyed."
Deckard laughs awkwardly. TempBot peers intently at Crispin.
"Actually, haha, he is--"
"--Actually, I think I was here with Bee. And Puppycat before. At the clown world?" Crispin interrupts, looking at TempBot carefully to make sure it won't swallow him.
TempBot nods, apparently accepting of this fact.
He notices Deckard glance at him.
"Wait, when--"
"-Shush," Crispin silences Deckard, trying not to think too hard about how to answer Deckard's question. And also trying not to think too hard about when Bee went with Deckard. "TempBot, are there any jobs right now that Bee and Puppycat need help with?"
TempBot computes and then nods.
"Loading job location," it announces, and then it opens its mouth.
"Deckard? And CRISPIN?" Bee exclaims, as Deckard and Crispin get plopped onto the surface of a pool of black ooze that weirdly enough, feels weightless.
It's as if they're in a cauldron of some sort--Bee is currently kneeling on the edge, a sword in her right hand. Her left hand is grabbing weakly at her right bicep, which is emitting sparks of some kind.
Puppycat is nowhere to be seen.
"Bee!" Deckard yells out, as he starts swimming through the weird liquid towards Bee.
Crispin follows suit.
As they near her, Bee's lips tremble a little. By the time they reach the ledge, her eyes are dripping little magic stars.
She holds her hands out and looks down.
"T-they took P-puppycat," she gets out quietly.
Crispin and Deckard look at each other and then at Bee. Then quietly, both help her to her feet.
"I think he might be at this planet he talked about, one with a space princess. He was a space outlaw and he was sentenced to be..."
Bee trails off, while Crispin tries to fix her right arm with what little tools he has on his tool belt. Even though her parts are so sturdy and each gear is so heavy, he notices how gingerly he treats each and every single piece. As if it were precious. He groans internally.
He notices Deckard staring.
"So that's what he meant when he said our island was his ship that crashed while he was running away," Deckard supplies, turning away from his brother and turning to look at the void around them.
Bee nods, her hair falling onto the tips of Crispin's fingers as he continues to work at her bicep. He brushes them away.
Suddenly, a thought comes to him.
"Say...do you know if his ship would have coordinates?"
They fall through the portal onto the dumpster from where they came from, hand-in-hand in triangle formation to make sure Bee doesn't get teleported somewhere else.
"Ow!" Deckard yelps when he's teleported butt-first onto the ledge of the dumpster before hitting the ground. Residual groans come out as he tries to stand right back up again, his right hand still holding onto Crispin's while his left hand clutches at his injured butt.
Bee and Crispin appear to have a more lucky landing, although both cringe on hearing the contact of body on dumpster.
From inside the building, a loud rumbling and various voices can be heard. Horrified, Crispin meets Deckard's eyes.
"Oh shit," they both say, as they suddenly haul ass and pull Bee with them, heading towards Cardamon's place before they can be deterred.
"CRISPIN AND DECKARD YOU ARE BOTH DEEEEEAD. DEAD! YOU HEAR ME?" Cass thunders from inside the Wizard family's apartment.
From far off in the distance, they can hear the sound of a very cooperative Toast crashing through walls.
Somewhere in the distance, multiple cats in a cafe suddenly yowl and screech. They duck under unstable furniture as the entire island shakes and starts revving up, accelerating towards an unknown destination.
They crash land a public execution just in time. The entire island crashes through the audience of humanoid aliens, brutally injuring many and possibly dismembering others. The screams of the fairy-like denizens only grow more dim and dim as the island slows down aggressively after hitting the makeshift runway.
He's pretty sure he's just killed like, a bunch of people.
"Uh, to be fair, I drive a truck. Not an island," Crispin says while wincing and looking heavily guilty.
Bee immediately rushes out with no consideration of the hundreds of lives that they've just forever crippled, leaving the door open behind her while Crispin and Deckard are left staring at the absolute carnage they've just caused.
"Bee? Wa-wait-did we just kill a bunch of people? HELLO? How are you-"
Crispin just shushes his hyperventilating younger brother and hands him a clown-themed gun.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN. THIS MAN. IS YOUR DOG!"
Crispin's mouth is agape while he asks Bee this, furiously moving his head between Bee and Deckard and wondering why both of them aren't surprised. He points aggressively at Puppycat, whose mouth has been stuffed with cloth and his eyes blindfolded.
Deckard sheepishly shrugs his shoulders. Crispin grabs his shoulders and shakes him violently. If he were a baby, he would definitely be irreparably harmed from the force of the shake.
"I know you didn't know about this. Why are you not reacting. Bee has been LIVING with a WEIRD SPACE CRIMINAL in the body of a CAT-THING and you're just standing there like it's normal? THAT WEIRD UGLY MAN-CAT-DOG-THING."
Puppycat wiggles indignantly in his restraints, still with cloth stuffed in his mouth and blindfold over his eyes.
"Crispin, don't be mean! This is Puppycat's real form," Bee explains, as she tries to undo whatever magical technology is keeping Puppycat's wrists bound. "He was cursed to become a....weird, cat....dog....thing, after he upset this kingdom or something. I dunno. He didn't tell me that much actually."
"AND YOU'RE OKAY WITH THIS?"
"Well I figured he had things he wouldn't talk about and I didn't want to push him," Bee responded as if it was normal, sticking her tongue out while she continues to fiddle with the restraints. The man in the restraints aggressively jerks his knees towards his face, as if there was something on his face that he would rather be taken off before his handcuffs.
"WOULDN'T TALK ABOUT?" Crispin repeats hysterically. He laughs a little in disbelief.
"WOULDN'T TALK ABOUT? That's the kind of thing you save for, you know, wondering if you were ever good enough for your ex."
Crispin grabs at his hair, eyes wide in awe of the sheer absurdity of the situation. He throws his arm out in Deckard's direction.
"Or like, if your family will ever trust you again because you were young and stupid and forever fucked up your family irreparably," he explains.
Crispin walks agitatedly towards Bee, leaning in her face to make his point.
"OR IF YOUR EX EVER LOVED YOU! Not BEING ON DEATH ROW AND HAVING LITERAL ASSASSINS COMING AFTER YOU!" He finishes, breathing heavily before looking at both Deckard and Bee, who both have winces on their faces. He cherishes his residual hyperventilations, not knowing how to continue when the two of them look at him with something almost like pity on their faces.
Suddenly, choking noises come out of Puppycat.
"Oh no, Puppycat!" Bee exclaims, before ripping the soggy, chewed cloth out of the man's mouth. Now finally free, the man hacks his lungs out, before making retching noises.
"Gross, don't talk about your emotions, clown man. We've got wayyy more important things to do," the alien man says. "Also, you guys literally couldn't take, you know, the GAG OUT FIRST? I've been sitting with my own disgusting saliva for the past 15 minutes, which is lame."
"Wait so, Deckard, how did you find me actually?"
"Oh, we asked TempBot if you guys needed any help with jobs," Deckard responds.
Bee frowns.
"But...we weren't doing any jobs?"
Deckard pauses, then furrows his eyebrows.
"Oh yeah, I guess-"
"-Oh it feels GOOD to not pee as a four-legged animal anymore!" Yells the space outlaw obnoxiously, kicking open the door of the bathroom and walking towards the group of humans. He gives himself a little fist pump. "No more fire hydrants for me, baby. Oh yeah, glad the temp listing I put in just as I was getting abducted helped you guys find Bee. I was worried I didn't format the request properly for TempBot to process it, since, yanno, I usually take on the jobs rather than place one."
"The plan? We win these, of course," the space alien says while flicking his hair out of his eyes.
Crispin rolls his eyes. Now that everyone on the island is caught up to date and surprisingly okay with fighting the big evil, so they can all get home, they have more of an army of sorts.
"Somehow you were less annoying as a smelly cat thing," Crispin intones dully. Then he scrunches his nose. "Actually, you probably smelled better too."
The space alien formerly known as Puppycat blows a raspberry at Crispin.
"You're just jealous Bee is close to a maaaaaaaan," he taunts. He spins around in the pilot's chair, limply keeping himself on the seat.
Crispin narrows his eyes.
"I liked you better as a cat with poop in your fur."
"Uh Crispin, should we uh, talk? Before we uh, rush into battle?"
Deckard seems hesitant, constantly glancing at the door as if to reassure himself there's an exit. It may be due to talking about feelings, but there's the doubled context of not knowing if there'll be an enemy ambush on the ship.
Crispin shudders and clutches at his shoulders, queasy at the thought of both.
"Definitely not," he responds, looking to the side.
"Look--"
"Deckard, it's fine. It meant nothing."
"..."
"I promise. For real."
His younger brother has grown up so much, to look at him like that.
"...Right. Uh, well, this means nothing too, but. I'm glad to have you back. Wouldn't change anything, you know?"
"..."
"And we all love you."
"..Yeah, I know."
There's a huge rally of cheers when the island finally lands back on Earth, settling into its resting place. Mayor Pretty Patrick announces a huge celebration for the occasion, almost an independence day of sorts--except it's a reunification of the island with Earth.
His siblings are all helping prepare food, the cafe now busy with the order for the new festival. Crispin himself is taking a break from washing the dishes, sitting on the porch steps in his slightly damp shirt.
The sun is familiar.
It's the first time he's been able to appreciate that.
He hears a familiar bicycle bell ring and looking up, he sees the silhouette of Bee without her common small furry friend in the backseat. She slides to a stop a couple of feet in front of Crispin, sliding the brake in place and hanging her helmet on the handle.
"Hi Bee," he says.
"Hey Crispin," she says. Neither of them say much.
Crispin scoots a little on the porch to make way for Bee to enter the cafe, but to his surprise, when she comes over, it's to sit next to him.
She opens her mouth and then closes it again.
He can't stop looking at her.
It appears that she doesn't have any words to really say, but she grins at him and stands up, holding her hand out to him. He takes it, Bee's sturdy strength helping him stand up.
He actually wobbles a little--he's been sitting for so long that his left leg's fallen asleep.
"Deckard told me not to tell you, but he's making a special clown-themed pasta for you, to thank you for helping him out," she says, lips turned up in a teasing manner. "I told him that you don't need that, but he seems to think that he needs to take care of you more. As do the others."
Crispin blinks, taking in the information.
"Huh. Clown-themed pasta."
"I know, right?"
"What...flavors would that even be?"
Bee shrugs.
"Beats me."
"Huh."
They both turn to look at the sunset.
"I'm glad to have you and Deckard," Bee says. "And Puppycat."
Bee gestures with her eyebrows towards the house, and Crispin follows her gaze to the window of the cafe, where he can spot Deckard looking out the window at them. Deckard suddenly panics and moves to hide, but it's so painfully obvious that he's looking that Crispin can't help but laugh at his younger brother.
He ends his laugh with a smile, wiping his eyes from something that he'll blame on the sun again.
"I know. And I'm glad to have you both too."