Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

DING DONG. DING DONG.

Terzo was a hair’s breadth away from sleep when the chime of the doorbell awoke him. Terzo wasn’t old enough to answer the door yet (Secundo always told him not to talk to strangers), so when he heard the doorbell chime, he slipped out of bed, and toddled off to Primo’s room to get him. Through the cracked door he could see his oldest brother hunched over his guitar, angrily plucking at the strings, mumbling incoherently. He reached up and knocked on the door. He heard Primo huff and set down his guitar. The door swung open and yellow light from his candle spilled out into the dark hallway. 

“What is it T?” Primo asked, his white eye looking duller than usual above his heavy dark circles. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Terzo shuffled awkwardly. He was supposed to be asleep, but the darkness of his room scared him sometimes. The doorbell was only an excuse to leave. “The doorbell rang,” he mumbled. “I didn’t want to answer it myself so-”

“It’s probably just a prank. No one would come this late at night if it was important.” Primo stepped back, closing the door.

“But can’t you just check, P?” Terzo pleaded. He didn’t want to go back to his room yet. He wanted to stay with the safety of his brother. “Please?”

Primo sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Okay,” he muttered. “Lead the way.” Terzo grabbed his hand and led him through the labyrinthine hallways of the ministry. Why they made the hallways so long, Terzo had no clue. When they arrived at the front door, they could hear the steady pounding of rain against the roof. The sound of thunder rumbled through the hallway, and Terzo gripped Primo’s hand tighter, and pulled him closer. Primo ruffled his hair and stepped forward to open the door. 

There was no prankster, waiting to jump out at them like Primo said, but there was something else. A small child, about Terzo’s age, in a red rain jacket. He had a soaked backpack clutched in his tiny arms. He had short, brown hair, covered by a strange red hat. The hat wasn’t the strangest thing about him, however. That would be the one bright, white eye staring at them. 

“Hello!” the boy said. “How are you?”

Primo stared at the child in disbelief. “Um, good, I guess? Who are you? Why are you here?”

“Oh, right!” the boy said. He unzipped the now dripping backpack and pulled out a soggy envelope. “My name is Copia. My Nona said to give this to the person who answers the door.”

“Look, Primo!” Terzo exclaimed. “He has the same eye we do!” 

Primo stared at the eye in shock. No one but their family had one white eye. He must be some distant cousin or something, Terzo thought. 

Copia looked away from Primo’s prying gaze and shuffled uncomfortably. Primo noticed, and directed his attention away from the child, to the soggy envelope in his hands. It was addressed to thier father, Papa Nihil Emeritus. That was strange in itself. Not many people addressed their letters to Nihil Emeritus.

“Why don’t you two go find a towel to dry off?” Primo said. “I can give this to Papa.”

“No, I want to go too!” Terzo exclaimed, bouncing with excitement. “I want to see Papa!” Copia, who seemed to mirror Terzo’s excitement, was also bouncing on his toes and nodding. 

Primo sighed in defeat. “Okay, come on.” Primo led the two children through the halls to Papa Nihil’s room, having to stop several times because Copia got distracted by one of the many extravagant paintings on the walls. When they finally arrived at his office, Primo paused before knocking on the door. Two voices could be heard from behind it, one gruff male voice and one higher pitched female voice. 

Primo finally knocked on the door. They waited a few moments before a gruff “Come in,” sounded from behind the door. Primo pushed the door open, revealing Papa Nihil behind his desk and Sister Imperator seated in front of him. 

Papa Nihil viewed his eldest son with disdain. “What is it? Why have you interrupted our meeting this late at night? It better be important.” 

Primo shuffled awkwardly and started, “Well-”

“Who is that behind you?” Sister interrupted. Terzo stepped aside revealing the strange newcomer, his eyes shifting back and forth to avoid the Sister’s prying eyes.

“I’m Copia!” he piped up. “How are you?”

“That’s actually what I came here for,” Primo said, holding out the damp letter. “This is addressed to you, Papa.” 

Papa Nihil snatched the letter out of his hands, giving Copia a dirty look, probably because he was dripping rainwater all over the floor (Papa hated messes). Sister Imperator was also looking at him strangely, but Terzo couldn’t figure out why. Papa tore open the letter and skimmed its contents. His eyes widened. 

“Non è possibile!” he muttered. 

“What does it say?” Sister Imperator asked softly. Papa stood quickly and rounded the desk. He strode over to Copia and gripped his face with his hand and forced him to meet his gaze. 

Copia freaked. He yelped and began flapping his arms around, like he was trying to fly away. Papa released him out of shock and Copia began swaying back and forth, still flapping his arms. 

Papa saw what he needed to see though. He turned to Sister Imperator, who was reading the damp letter. “This is impossible! He has the eye!”

“Then this letter must be true,” the sister said. “He must be your son.”

Primo and Terzo both snapped their heads towards their brother Copia, who was still swaying, but flapping less violently. “You’re serious?” Primo questioned in disbelief. 

Papa, who was staring at the child in shock, turned his head to his oldest son. “Get him out of my sight,” he snapped, venom dripping from his mouth. “He may have the eye but he is not my son.”

“Nihil!” Sister Imperator exclaimed, a strange expression of hurt etched onto her face. She turned to the children. “He will stay. Terzo, it is long past your bedtime. Will you take him to bed, Primo? Take Copia with you as well.”

Primo, anxious to leave, nodded and took Terzo’s hand. Terzo reached out to Copia, but paused, silently asking for permission. Copia hesitated for a second, before tentatively reaching out and gently taking Terzo’s hand. Primo led the two boys out of the room and closed the door behind him. As soon as the door latched, a muffled shouting match ensued. 

“Don’t worry about them,” Terzo whispered to Copia. “You can stay in my room for as long as you want.”

Copia grinned goofily at that, and Terzo decided at that moment that they would be friends for as long as he lived. 

Chapter Text

“-opia? Papa? Are you with me?”

Copia snapped back into the present, back into Sister Imperator’s office and out of whatever world he went into when he zoned out. He’s been doing that a lot lately. He had an idea why. 

“Yes, yes, I’m here. Could you repeat the question?” he asked, his voice scratchy and hoarse.

Sister Imperator regarded him with irritation. “I said, we will be hiring new ghouls for you to perform with. You don’t want those wretched traitors Terzo had.”

Copia stared blankly back at her. He always liked Terzo’s ghouls. They never did anything wrong.  “Wh-why do I need ghouls?”

Imperator rolled her eyes and huffed in frustration. “Do I have to spell everything out for you? You’re Papa now. That means you have to perform for the Ghost Project. Or did you forget?”

Copia swallowed hard, staring at his hands. How could he forget? His whole life was ripped apart for a job he never wanted. He nodded and cleared his throat. “When will they be arriving?”

The sister’s face softened. “Sometime either today or tomorrow. And there’ll be more of them this time, so we’ll have to clean out the brothers’ rooms.”

“What?” Copia breathed, eyes wide with shock. “You can’t do that this soon! It hasn’t even been a year yet!” 

“Cardi,” Imperator said with a note of distaste, “you seriously don’t want their filth around, do you?”

Copia felt tears pricking at his eyes. He turned away, trying to shield himself from Sister Imperator, but her sharp, eagle eyes picked up on it. 

“Oh dear,” she said, stroking her hand down his face in an almost loving manner, “don’t miss them. They never loved you.”

Hot tears burned his face. Imperator wiped them as quick as they came. He shook his head, desperately trying to shake her lies out of his mind. “They were my brothers.”

The soft, loving hand on his face quickly turned hard. Sister Imperator gripped his face and shook it roughly. “Don’t say that,” she warned through clenched teeth. “They were nothing to you. You hear? Nothing but fake, entitled brats who wanted to take everything from you.” She smiled, and Copia could practically see the venom dripping down her chin. “Now, we’re taking it back. Understand?”

Copia nodded, desperate to free himself from her grip. His breath picked up, now dangerously close to hyperventilating. “I understand,” he chanted. “I understand, I understand I-” He cut himself off with a gulp. Imperator never liked it when he repeated himself. 

Satisfied with Copia’s answer, the Sister let go of his face and retracted her hand. Copia flew out of the seat and began swaying subtly back and forth. “Am I free to go?” 

Sister Imperator nodded, and that was enough. Copia practically ran out of her office and barreled down the hallway, not to his room, but to Terzo’s. He could see some of the younger  Brothers and Sisters carrying boxes out of his room. 

“Get out of there!” he yelled, far louder than he was intending, but it did the job. They quickly dropped what they were carrying and scurried off. Copia burst into Terzo’s room and slammed the door behind him. All of Terzo’s decorations and belongings were gone from the room, replaced with an empty shell of what used to be. The only thing that was left in the room was what was on his bed, a strange nest of blankets and pillows. Copia pitied the ghoul who had to stay here, forced to drown in the sea of memories that resided in the now empty room. 

Copia leaned his back against the door, and slid down, falling hard on the floor. The tears that pooled in his eyes quickly turned into sobbing, and it was getting harder to breathe. Copia squeezed his arms tighter around himself. He couldn’t breathe. Terzo was his oxygen, what kept him alive, and in the months after his death it was getting harder and harder.

His head banged off the wall, which momentarily distracted him, so he did it again, and again. He didn’t care if someone in the hallway heard him. The whole damn ministry could hear him crying for all he cared. His hands reached up in his hair and pulled, the sting yet another distraction. Wave after wave of uncontrollable sobbing wracked through Copia’s body, leaving him feeling like a lifeless shell, burnt out, like a flame without oxygen. 

He could almost feel Terzo beside him, wiping away his tears, wrapping his arms around him tightly like he always did. He tried to reach out to him, but every time, he would slip away like water. He could almost hear his gentle voice soothing him, singing to him. 

I’m with you always. 

After what seemed like an endless amount of sobbing, the tears finally slowed, and his breathing became less labored. Copia scrubbed at his eyes, thankful he wasn’t wearing his Terzo’s papal skull paint. He stood up from the floor, leaning heavily against the wall for support. He staggered over to Terzo’s bed and collapsed, breathing in the stale scent of the covers. It didn’t smell like him anymore. Even Terzo’s own bed couldn’t care to remember him. The thought of that made more tears leak from the corners of his eyes. 

What Copia didn’t know was that on the other side, Terzo was lying next to him, as they once did when they were kids, wiping his tears as they came, and mirroring them with his own. 

Chapter Text

Terzo hardly slept that night. He was practically buzzing with excitement. It was his fourth birthday, and he finally had a friend to share it with! He wasn’t ever lonely on his birthday, but it’s nice having someone his age to share the fun. Primo was always too busy with making the cake, and Secundo never wanted to play with him. 

When the early dawn light finally spilled through the window, he sprung up out of bed and threw the covers off, startling his companion. 

“Copia! Copia! Wake up!” he beamed, jumping up and down on the bed, jostling awake a confused Copia. “It’s my birthday!”

“Oh cool!” Copia said, smiling, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He sat up and cocked his head, looking slightly confused. “What’s that?”

Terzo stopped his jumping. “You don’t know what a birthday is?” Copia shook his head. “Oh,” he stopped for a second, before continuing. “Well, it’s a day where you get a present and eat cake! And you turn four!”

“Oh that’s cool!” Copia beamed. “Did you get to choose your birthday?”

“No. Today has always been my birthday. June twenty-fourth.” Terzo cocked his head in confusion. “Have you seriously never had a birthday before?” Copia shook his head, looking a little awkward. “Well, that’s okay! I can share my birthday!”

“What does that mean?” Copia questioned. 

“It means you can share my cake and present. And you get to turn four today, too.” Terzo began jumping on the bed again. “It’s going to be so fun!” 

Copia grinned goofily and flapped his hands happily at his sides. “I get to turn four?” he questioned.

“Yeah!” Terzo exclaimed. “C’mon! Let’s go find Primo!” The two boys lept out of bed and ran through the hallways to Primo’s room, startling a few sisters on the way. 

When they finally made it to Primo’s room, they were out of breath, but still beaming in excitement. Terzo knocked on the door, but the door was unlatched, and it swung open. Terzo peeked his head into the room, and saw a balloon on a string floating above Primo’s desk. He gasped in excitement and dashed into the room. 

Copia stood in the doorway, looking a little awkward. “Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here? He didn’t give us permission.”

“It’s okay,” Terzo replied. “Come here, C. Look at this!”

Copia stepped tentatively into the room, as if Primo would be just around the corner, waiting to yell at him. He stepped closer to Terzo, who was holding the balloon’s string. “What is it?” 

“It’s a scavenger hunt!” Terzo said, bouncing with excitement. “It’s a birthday tradition! We have to find all of the balloons, and bring them to Primo. Then he’ll give us a present!”

“Oh!” Copia exclaimed, mirroring Terzo’s excitement. “Let's go find them!”

They dashed through the halls of the ministry, collecting balloon after balloon. At one point Terzo was worried that they might fly away from all the balloons tied to their wrists. By midday, they collected twenty balloons, and rushed to find Primo. They found him in the kitchen, icing a chocolate cake at the table. There was an assortment of bowls of colored icing scattered around the table.

“Primo!” Terzo exclaimed, breathless. “We have all of the balloons!” 

“That was fast!” Primo laughed. He ruffled Terzo’s hair and untied all of the balloons from his and Copia’s arms. “Do you guys want to help me decorate the cake?”

Terzo grinned and nodded. Primo moved a few chairs around so that the boys could sit on them and help. He moved some of the bowls of icing so that they could reach them. “What do you want your cake to say, T?” Primo asked, spooning icing into a piping bag. 

“Happy birthday, Terzo and Copia!” he exclaimed, dipping his finger in the bowl of green icing and licking it. 

“I didn’t know it was Copia’s birthday,” Primo said, looking confused and a little awkward. 

“It’s okay!” Copia said, attempting to draw a heart in red icing. “I didn’t either, until this morning!”

Primo just looked more confused. “What?”

“Copia’s never had a birthday before, so I’m sharing mine!” Terzo explained, smearing blue icing around the side of the cake. 

“Oh,” Primo said, suddenly looking sad. He picked up the piping bag, and neatly wrote ‘Happy birthday, Terzo and Copia’ in bright purple icing on the top of the cake. The rest of the cake looked like it was attacked by a rainbow, and Terzo and Copia looked so proud of themselves. By the time they were done decorating the cake, Secundo had made his way down to the kitchen. Terzo’s face lit up at the sight of his brother, and he rushed over to hug him. 

“Don’t hug me, child,” Secundo grumbled, trying to conceal a smile. “You have icing all over your hands.” Terzo giggled and tried to wipe his hands on Secundo’s shirt, but he jumped out of the way, knocking into the cabinet.

“Cut it out,” Primo scolded, no real heat in his voice. He took out the box of candles and set up eight candles, four green, four blue. 

“Is it time to eat the cake now?” Copia asked. 

“No, no,” Terzo said. “We have to wait for Papa.” He turned to Primo, who was looking slightly awkward. “He’s coming, right?”

Primo grimaced and knelt down to where Terzo was standing. “Papa is really busy right now. He told me to tell you that he’s really sorry he had to miss this.” Terzo’s lip wobbled and tears pooled in his eyes. “Oh T, don’t cry,” Primo said softly, brushing his tears away as they fell. “We can still have a good party, right guys?” 

Secundo nodded and brushed his hand through Terzo’s hair. Copia nodded and grinned goofily at him. Terzo wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and let out a watery laugh. 

“Come on, birthday boy. Let’s cut your cake.” Primo said. He lit all of the candles, and they all sang happy birthday, except Copia, who didn’t know the words, as he’s never had a birthday before. They ate the cake, and Terzo managed to get icing absolutely all over his face. Secundo and Copia laughed hysterically at the sight of him. Primo could barely conceal his grin as he pretended to wipe it off, only smearing it around more. 

After they were all full from the cake, they opened the presents. Primo stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, Copia.”

“Oh, it’s okay!” Copia said. “I don’t need anything!”

“He can share my present!” Terzo exclaimed, bouncing on his toes. 

Primo considered him for a second, before shrugging. “I guess if you’re fine with it, I don’t care.” He turned to the boys and led them to the couch in the sitting room. “Wait here. I'll go get your present.”

Terzo and Copia watched as Primo left the room, and sat on the couch. “Thank you for letting me share your birthday,” Copia said.

Terzo nodded and grinned at him. “No problem! That’s what brothers do!” 

“Brothers?” Copia asked softly, eyes welling up with tears. 

“Brothers,” Terzo confirmed. Copia let out an excited little noise and wiggled around where he was sitting. They heard footsteps leading up to the room. 

“Alright, guys,” Primo called. “Close your eyes!” They squeezed their eyes shut and covered them with their hands for good measure. They heard Primo enter the room, and a strange squeaking sound. “Alright, you can open them!”

Terzo and Copia removed their hands and gasped at the sight. “A bike!” Terzo exclaimed. It was a black and white tricycle with a little seat on the back. “Get on C! I’m taking you for a ride!”

Terzo wheeled them around the halls of the missionary, squealing in delight. They kept riding the bike, until Terzo made too sharp of a turn, crashing into the wall.

“Alright, alright,” Primo said, who had witnessed the crash. “I think that’s enough tricycle for the day.”

“Awwwwww!” Terzo whined. 

“It’s time for you guys to go to bed,” Primo said. “You can ride it some more in the morning.”

“Okay,” they said in unison. They followed him to their room, and let him tuck them into bed. “Goodnight, Primo.”

“Goodnight,” Primo said, ruffling each of their hair. He shut the door, leaving them in darkness. 

“Terzo?” Copia whispered. 

“Yeah?” Terzo responded. 

“This was the best birthday I’ve ever had,” Copia said. 

Terzo grinned in the dark. “Me too.”

Chapter Text

Terzo hated being dead. 

Not only was it cold and dark, everything felt wrong. He couldn’t see the way eyes do, hear the way ears do, or feel anything the way it normally should be felt. But he still observed all of his surroundings, useless to those who struggle. Eternally observant. 

He never left Copia’s side. He was there when he received the news of his death, and saw how his brother’s life was torn in two. He saw the flame in him fizzle out, as if it was stripped of oxygen. He held him at night when his cries could be heard throughout the ministry, and wiped away his tears. He knelt by his side as he was sworn in as Papa and sat through all of the endless meetings that went along with it. 

Now, they sat in a dressing room, thirty minutes until showtime in front of a mirror and black and white paint. Copia held a paintbrush in his hands, but he had a thousand yard stare which told Terzo that Copia wasn’t planning on painting his face anytime soon. His bi-colored eyes were red and puffy from crying. 

You can do it, Terzo whispered into his ear. I believe in you. 

Copia blinked harshly and scrubbed away fresh tears from his eyes. “I can’t do it. I can’t do it!” he sobbed, throwing the paintbrush onto the table. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and curled himself into a ball in his armchair. 

Yes you can, C. Terzo gently cupped his face, causing Copia to remove his hands and stare directly into where Terzo would be. I’m so proud of you. You’ve done so well. 

Tears leaked from the corners of Copia’s eyes and Terzo brushed them away. “I’m sorry,” Copia gasped. “I never wanted this…”

I know, Terzo reassured softly. It’s not your fault. 

“I can’t perform,” Copia whispered. “I can’t do it as well as you.” 

Yes you can. I know you can. 

Copia laughed at himself and wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve. “Who am I kidding? You’re not even here. You’re not even real.” 

The comment sent a dagger of hurt through his chest. He stepped back and removed his hands from Copia’s face. No, I’m not here, he said, unable to keep the pain from his voice. But that doesn’t mean I’m not real. 

Copia’s head snapped up in confusion, looking around where Terzo might be. “What does that mean?” 

I don’t have time to explain, Terzo said, knocking over the tube of black paint. You’ve got about fifteen minutes until one of your ghouls comes and bangs on your door, so I suggest you start painting. 

Copia stared at the paint tube in shock. “How-” Terzo cut him off by knocking over the white tube, more aggressively this time. “Alright, alright. I’m going.” Copia quickly painted his face white and added the black detailing. He was just finishing the last touches when a loud knock sounded at the door, startling Copia. 

“Five minutes, boss!” came a cheerful voice from behind the door. Cumulus, Terzo thinks. 

This is it, Terzo said, straightening Copia’s suit. He didn’t even know if it made a difference, but he hoped he still felt the gesture. Showtime. 

Copia smiled and smoothed down where Terzo had straightened his jacket. So he had felt it. “How do I look?”

Like you’re about to go rock some faces off, Terzo said with a smile. Go on, Papa. I’ll be right there with you. 

Copia smiled and left the dressing room, meeting his ghouls in the wings backstage. Terzo weaved in and out of them, unsure if any of them could feel his presence. He was conflicted on whether or not he wanted one of the ghouls to sense him. He didn’t feel the stare of the large quintessence ghoul with a black guitar burning a hole through his incorporeal head. 

When the stage managers signaled for them to take the stage, Terzo followed and stood right in front of where the fire ghoul playing a white guitar was aggressively strumming the chords to their opening song. He rocked along to the beat of the drums and sang along to the songs he recognised. He laughed along with the crowd at Copia’s jokes and rolled his eyes when he copied some of his signature stage moves (typical little brother activity).

When the show was finally over and the performers took their bow, Terzo couldn’t help but feel bittersweet. He was so proud of Copia and all that he’s accomplished, but he missed it. He missed the roar of the crowd, the flash of the lights, hanging out with all of his ghouls after the show. 

Terzo followed Copia backstage to a common area and watched as all of his ghouls clapped him on the back and gushed about the performance. This time, he noticed the large ghoul staring at him from across the room. He froze and stared back at the ghoul. If he had a working heart, it would be racing. 

The ghoul only stared at him, trying to figure out if what he was seeing was real. The quintessence ghoul was finally distracted by the multi-instrumentalist grabbing his arm and he looked away from Terzo. He breathed a sigh of relief was that even possible? and turned back to Copia, who was now gone. 

Terzo left the common area and went into Copia’s dressing room, where he found him desperately scrubbing the paint off of his face. He simply sat next to him and kept quiet. When the paint was finally gone, and Copia’s face was rubbed raw from the cloth, Copia sighed and sat back in his chair. 

“Terzo?” he asked, his voice small and hoarse from singing. “Are you here?” 

Terzo draped his incorporeal arm over Copia’s shoulders, willing him to feel it. Yes, C. I’m here. 

Copia’s eyes pooled with tears. He looked and sounded broken. “Please don’t leave me.”

I’m with you always. Terzo said, leaning his head on his shoulder. Always.