Work Text:
It was a strange mess of gangly limbs at Casa de Nerd, tonight.
Bowls of side dishes haphazardly slid across the table, plates being bumped and elbows being jabbed (mostly without malice); it was the Annual Family Get-Together, that they decided to host on Thanksgiving every year for mere convenience's sake.
And to be honest, the Nerd kind of fucking hated it.
For it only ever really being the four of them (and maybe the occasional +1, rare in their antisocial breed), it was always way too loud. Cooking for everyone was annoying, always too much food or too little, and while he usually didn't have to clean much in the kitchen, it was still a pain. And the worst part of it? Was obviously—
"Nerd, It's so nice to see you again, really! It's been forever!"
The family that was getting together in the first place.
"It's been a month."
James (Board James, for clarity) always had the same politely jovial look on his face nowadays. Either that, or the sad puppy look. Frankly, both got on the Nerd's nerves like crazy.
"I only get to see you once or twice a year. It always feels like forever to me!"
The Nerd felt his eye twitch. "Yeah, whatever." It was back to his ham.
Goddamn, this ham was awesome.
"S'that good?" He coughed a bit as he was interrupted by a softer voice, at the end of the table.
"Oh shit. Martin." He ripped off another bite. "You made this?"
Martin poked at his potatoes. He was a real skinny, orderly kinda guy. He nodded, and flashed a weak thumbs up at the Nerd.
"It's fuckin' good."
James nodded in agreement. The Nerd refused to note how he had barely touched his food whatsoever.
The table shook with the arrival of the fourth guest. More appropriately, the re-arrival, since in the time the others had taken to properly plate up and sit down, Rex Viper "Mother Fucker" Rigs was now very pointedly on his second, piled-high plate. He then slammed a hand on the Nerd's shoulder (so hard that naturally, it shook the table again).
"THIS GUY," Rex bellowed. "has made the best baked beans I've EVER—" PAT "—HAD—" PAT "—in my LIFE!" PAT! Every emphasis led to another heavy hand against the Nerd's back. He suppressed the urge to shriek and maul the shit out, regrettably, the only uncle he was aware of having. You had to invite an uncle to a family gathering, so Rex had to come.
The Nerd shot him a glare and made a point to very visibly dust off his shoulder, before taking another bite of his food.
Another perk of Rex was that he made some fucking insane brisket. Every time. Nobody wanted to learn how to cook a turkey (James had volunteered a few times, and apparently failed at cooking every single one until he finally screaming "NO MORE FUCKING TURKEYS!" the last time the nerd had asked), and thus nobody complained that Rex piled the brisket on high. It's not like this was much of a traditional gathering, anyways; who cared if some (frankly better) meat showed itself?
"Who made the green bean casserole?" Martin piped up, fiddling with a pen and mini-pad.
James beamed his usual "Friendly Smile" and waved. "Do you like it?"
"Mm." He nodded, curtly. "You used to make this every year, didn't you? S'been awhile."
"Hahaha." He scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah. Sorry."
The conversation naturally trailed off, until James decided to say: "Hey, what's with the notepad? If you want the recipe, I can just tell you. It's not like I get to cook enough for it to matter as a secret."
"Oh." Martin's face remained neutral. "It's just work stuff."
"Oh."
The Nerd was curious, now. If he couldn't tune out his brother's kind of painful attempts at conversation, he would take his place in the investigative sense. "What's going on with you?"
"Just working more underground for the first time in awhile. It's refreshing, getting to be a bit more involved, and not just...thrown around the set like a ragdoll. Being "just an actor", and everything." He looked between his plate and James, briefly. "You also made the potatoes. That's scary, how spot-on you are from like 15 years ago."
"Guilty as charged," James said, coolly, before immediately blanking and frowning into his water.
The Nerd slapped him on the back of the shoulder. "I'm guessing it's got an NDA?"
Martin shrugged, looking apologetic. "You know how it is. Even if it's not as strict as my usual jobs, I'd rather give it some time. I think you guys would actually like this one, y'know?"
Rex made a noise with his mouth full, and then gulped. "Horror movie?" He gasped out, before re-stuffing his face.
Martin laughed, just a bit. "As always. This one's good, though, I think the writer really understands horror. Because of that, I'm keeping everything back until it's time for trailers."
"Wait. Stop." The Nerd leaned his hand on his chin. "If you're just recording a movie, why do you have a notepad."
"I'm not just recording it. I'm helping with some blocking, sound design, set selection, all those kinds of things. It's a real indie production, unprofessional but full of heart. The exact kind of things I got into film making for."
Rex coughed. "You finally so well off you can handle taking those gigs? You used to say it just wasn't sustainable."
He laughed again, but looked away, this time. "Well...you don't really have to believe me on this one, but the producer...also the writer and director and most other things, of course, is...suspiciously wealthy."
"Are you sure you're not just working on some rich kid's tax haven?" The Nerd deadpanned.
"He's old, though. Like horror classics, old." He paused, then said with a wry smile: "Older than Rigs, even."
THUNK! "HEY!"
The table erupted into a fit of laughter that not even Rex was exempt from. Martin was the most traditionally normal out of all of then, and he tended to make their discordant dinners at least a touch more regular. The Nerd supposed that's just what being a well-adjusted micro-celebrity did to you, probably (he, despite it all, did not consider himself a micro-celebrity, and he definitely didn't consider himself well-adjusted).
"So you're working on some old man's dream film before he croaks, or something?" James chuckled.
"Honestly, with the way he acts about it, probably. He's always in character, wearing this big cloak and top hat and his stage makeup everywhere. You'd think he's a kook, but he's real nice to all the other staff and he clearly knows how to run a production, despite how he's handling everything. It's kind of strange." Martin finished writing a few more things down before he noticed James staring at him, brows furrowed.
"Sorry if this is invasive, but has your new boss ever...told you where he's from?"
It was Martin's turn to be confused. "He's got a real ambiguous accent, but..." He fished a green and black business card from his pocket. "His card says he's based out of Minnesota?"
James's eyes lit up with a sense of recognition and mischief. "No way, Martin. You're working with the guy that hosts my bi-weekly poker games."
Rex and the Nerd were now both very interested in whatever was going on here, moreso than before.
"What? You're telling me you know Moarte?"
The Nerd made a face from across the table, then silently pulled out his phone (the cell phone he begrudgingly acquired for situations like these).
James full-on guffawed. "Know him? The guy's awesome! He knows how to host a real party. Don't even worry about the movie; with both of you on it? It's gonna go great."
Martin seemed bewildered by this information. "You didn't know he was making a movie?"
"I knew he wanted to, but I'm sure you know by now that Moarte's a bit of a secretive guy. You can't really get anything out of him that he doesn't want you to know already."
Martin nodding, scribbling the word "vault" down on his pad.
"But I don't think it's really a big deal, just a fun coincidence. Don't even worry about it."
"Oh, I fuckin' knew it. Martin," The nerd interjected, a "you fucked up" grin wide on his face. "You know you're workin' for an internet reviewer now, right?"
Martin blanched, and everyone (except for him) busted out laughing again. Martin himself was now mourning his status as "the normal one", presumably doomed to live in interesting times, after avoiding them for his whole career, for the rest of his days.
"I'm not going on any spaceships." He said, firmly. "I'm not fighting any monsters—my horror films are not Halloween specials!"
"I don't go on any spaceships." The Nerd popped a Rolling Rock on the table, finding this a suitable time for drinking. "I mean, there was that one time, but it wasn't the big one."
On the side, Martin mouthed `the big one?`
James tapped his fork on his hand. "I thought you were on the Exit Strategy, though?"
"Fuck, was I?"
"I mean, I was."
"Wh—H. How? How would you have been on the Exit Strategy?"
James wore his truest shit-eating grin; the one the Nerd had barely seen recently. It was almost refreshing. "You know how sometimes I show up on your TV?"
"Oh." He took another swig. "You would pull some horseshit like that."
"I didn't bother them, at least. Would've been way out of my depth."
"Hey." Rex interjected. "What the fuck are you guys talking about."
In unison, the brothers responded: "Don't worry about it."
Rex held his hands up. "It's nice to see you two talking like family, at least."
The Nerd visibly cringed at the statement. James's face simply went blank, looking at his plate. "I wouldn't know what you mean by that, but alright."
"Okay, actually, if we're talking about this stuff, I need to get this off my mind." Martin half-raised his hand off the table. Everyone else went silent, out of respect for what was going to happen in his life. "I haven't been asking because I didn't want to cause a big...kerfuffle—"
"Fuckfest."
"Sure, that, at the family gathering, but." His open hand closed to point at James. "Didn't you die?"
'Aw, hell,' The Nerd thought. 'This fuckin' discussion never ends well.'
With bated breath, the rest of the table waited for James's response...which ended up being a fairly noncommittal "Yes...? Did you forget?"
The Nerd was flabbergasted. This fuckin' discussion had never ended well, at least.
"No, not that." Martin shook his head, lost. "I just—"
"I was gonna say it's fine if you did. I did too for a bit!" That put a bit of a strange look on Martin's face. "But I heard you were a pallbearer, and everything."
"Well, yeah. That's why I'm asking, actually. Have you just been...a ghost? A real, tangible ghost, this whole time?" Martin looked to the Nerd and Rex for answers, and found two men that both refused to make eye contact, for various reasons. "And I'm guessing you knew?"
"I kinda have to. James used to ever leave me along, during Halloween, and stuff." The Nerd swished his beer around.
"I learned by accident; scared the piss outta me." Rex snorted, incredulously. "My shitty little nephew, all cleaned up, when last I saw him he was a pile of ashes. Had to get him—" He nudged the Nerd, "—to explain it to me before I started swinging."
"You don't have to call me shitty." James pouted.
It was Rex and the Nerd's turn to speak in unison. "You were shitty."
James looked at Martin, who winced and half-shrugged. "You were shitty."
Everyone had a bit of a laugh about that, at least.
"Your boss is a ghoul, by the way." James finally took the first bite out of any of his food. "He has poker night with ghosts and zombies and shit. Occasionally a sentient ring."
The look on Martin's face would've made a lovely Christmas card, had any of them cared enough to send them.
It was at this point the Nerd silently made up his mind that he would not be cancelling next year's dinner early, if only because the shit with Martin was too funny to not keep up with.
...What the hell; he might as well say something.
"Y'know, you guys aren't ever as bad to hang around with as I think you'll be."
James smiled at him. "You say this every year, remember?"
The Nerd snapped his head to stare at James with a silent glare, before turning back to his plate. "Yeah, whatever. All one big happy family, or something."
"There's 4 of us." Rex tore off a bite of ham.
"Do you fucking hate Thanksgiving."
"Not at all! Just..." He trailed off, visibly gathering his words. "Happy that the little scraps of us can meet, I guess. You know the whole "big family" doesn't really do get-togethers, so you made one for us. I think that's real nice of you."
The table as a whole forgot to speak for a bit.
"Um. Yeah." James broke the silence. "Thanks for bothering to bring everyone together, every year. And for the beans."
"And the stuffing." The Nerd pointed at the massive chunk on James's plate.
"Was getting to that. But yeah, thanks."
"Psh." The Nerd's eyes remained firmly on his place, and he hoped nobody could see the smile that barely wormed its way onto his face through a mouthful of brisket. "Yeah, whatever, you're welcome."
Martin would remain shell-shocked for the next 15 minutes, after which James stole a chunk of cranberry sauce of his place and said "Hey, watch this", as he shoved it into his arm, the food disappearing into his body before he pulled the fork out. Martin almost fainted, but settled for saying "No, you would pull some horseshit like that," earning a sympathetic gaze from the other half of the table. It seemed a new chapter of his life had truly begun.