Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

   California Slim hates his job. Don't get him wrong, Bliss Ocean is perfect for him. Ending Epithets, precisely what he wants. But on days like this, it sucks. Earlier Xerxes asked (read: strong-armed) Slim into taking care of his little sister and her friends. Apparently, no one else was available, but he isn't buying that. Slim thinks Xerxes is just messing with him. Everyone at Bliss Ocean knows that Slim is the last person you should ever trust with children, besides Zora. He's cold, harsh, and just all around not good with kids. Also, he's an actual murderer. People keep forgetting that. But for some reason, Xerxes thought it would be hilarious if the Epithet Killer babysat a group of 11-year-olds. Very funny. So now here he is. In front of a schoolyard waiting for a small bright strawberry-haired child, and if he messes this up, Xerxes is sure to kill him. Just as he's getting impatient, and ready to leave, the small thing shows up. Two other children flank her. One is tall with long blonde hair, and the other is of average 11-year-old height, with a brown afro covered in stars. Just about what he was expecting. He walks up to the children, with Alcatraz at his side. The other students give the duo a wide berth. The pink one, the one he recognizes as Trixie, is nonplussed by him. Blondie is clearly uncomfortable, and the star kid has a brief moment of trepidation, then an easy practiced smile.

   "Hey kids, I'm here to pick you up." Trixie simply narrows her eyes.

   "What’s the code word?" It's a normal occurrence for random coworkers or friends of her siblings to pick her up. In order to ensure the right person picks them up, there's a safe word. And for some dumb reason, that safe word is Bitch Ass. Slim narrows his eyes back at her and states in complete monotone. "Bitch ass." Despite the number of times this has happened, Feenie lets out a gasp. She is very against this code word business. Trixie says it's smart for it to be a swear because no one would swear to a child, but Feenie continues to complain every time. Trixie is satisfied, and gestures an ‘all clear’ to the others. As soon as Feenie sees the man is safe, she introduces herself to both the man and the odd suit of armor. 

   “Hello! I am Phoenica Fleecity the fifteenth! Who are you two?” Al quickly jumps forward, very excited to meet this kid.

   “I’m Alcatraz! And this is my best friend Slim!” The man in question stares daggers at the other. 

   “I’m California Slim. This thing is my epithet.”

   “Oooohhhh. Yeah, I do know you. You’re that epithet killer Dixon was talking about. Nice to meet ya.” Trixie nods in recognition. Dixon likes to tell Trixie all about various true crime cases, and that alongside her family's chosen professions, she knows all about the local criminals. 

   “Trixie dear, we need to have a talk about your family's ability to judge character. This is the fifth time this month they sent a wanted criminal to pick us up.”

   “I don’t see the issue.”

   “You never do.” 

   “Things have yet to go wrong! That means they’re right about who to send. My siblings are fine at judging character.”

   “Last time we got picked up by the most wanted criminal in Sweet Jazz. And she was a cowboy.” 

   “And nothing bad happened!”

   The two continue on in this manner for a bit. Slim can’t help but let out a small laugh. It’s refreshing to just see kids banter with each other. It almost reminds him of Beverly. Almost. 

   As the odd group is walking back to the car, Slim realizes he never got the third one’s name. She seems to be somewhat weary of him, which is understandable. When her friend mentioned his moniker as ‘The Epithet Killer’ he noticed a familiar flash of fear in her eyes. The same fear he sees in his victims’ eyes. She probably has an Epithet then. After a moment of contemplation, he asks for her name. 

   “Um. I’m Molly.” Her speech is stilted and to the point, clearly trying to hide her discomfort. That doesn’t work too well. The five of them settle into the car. The trio is all in the back, with Slim in the driver’s seat and Al as shotgun. At first, Al was just going to float outside, but the sheep girl said that that wasn't fair! He should get to sit in the car just like them! Slim doesn't like this kid. 

   After a moment the trio begins conversing. A few minutes in, they land on the topic of family gatherings. They each tell stories of past outings. Trixie is halfway through the story of when she got lost during hide and seek when Slim notices something. Phoenica and Molly are only telling stories within the last year. On top of that, Trixie seems to be carrying the conversation. It doesn’t take a genius to realize something is going on in the kids’ family lives. But that’s none of his business. He’s just here so they don’t die. Still, a part of him can’t stop thinking about that. It sounds like the two girls lost their mothers around the age of 10. Slim cannot stand that idea. He knows what loss feels like at a young age, he was 17 when Beverly died. And these kids are so much younger than that. It takes a moment to identify, as he hasn’t felt this in so long, but Slim feels protective over these children. Even Trixie in a way, has such deep weight on her, like an aura of haunting chill surrounds her. What happened to these poor kids? Slim can’t help but notice all of the small quirks to them. How Molly has such deep seeded eye bags. How Phoenica stands rod still with perfect posture. How Trixie kept looking over her shoulder as they walked. The murderer cannot avoid the worry that sprouts in him at the thought of what caused this.

   God Slim get it together, they’re just some random kids your coworker threatened you into babysitting, they don’t matter.

   But god, they do.

Chapter Text

   The Roughhouse home is a two story suburban house a ten minute drive away from the middle school. The ride there was relatively uneventful, bar when someone cut them off in traffic, and Slim got into a very loud and aggressive fight with them. The group walk into the home. The children set up in the living room to do homework. They gather around the coffee table with worksheets and notebooks spread out. Most of their classes are the same, or at least covering the same material. Except for Feenie, who is in the advanced math program, and is taking math a year ahead. Molly was also copying down notes alongside doing homework from the days she wasn't in school. She had quite a bit she had to catch up on, and had to learn a good chunk of the material on her own. Luckily, Feenie is very good at helping Molly study. 

   While the children are busy with this, Slim is left confused. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do. Help with homework? He dropped out of high school in 10nth grade, he'd be no good at algebra. What are you supposed to do with kids? He hasn't had to deal with this since... well, it's been a few years. What would Al do? Something dumb probably. Snacks? Yeah snacks are a good idea. After quickly checking in about allergies, and what kinds of things the Roughhouses have stocked, he got to work preparing some food. He got out some celarry, peanut butter, and raisins to make ants on a log. Al sees this odd sight, and decides to leave Slim alone. Al could use this as an opportunity to mock him, but that'll only make him clam up. So the sentient armor sits with the kids. 

   After around 30 minutes, the neo trio has gotten into a solid rhythm. In fact, Molly was so focused, she subconsciously summoned a small silence bubble around her. Trixie and Feenie like to chat while working, which helps them, but Molly prefers total silence. She likes listening to the sound of the pencil on paper. But because this is subconscious, she doesn't have much control over the size of the bubble. 

   "I'm telling you, centaurs make no sense! do they have 2 respitory systems? How does that work?” The raspberry child argued. 

   “It's not supposed to make sense! It's fantasy, magic doesn’t need logic!”

   “THAT DO-“ Her speech cut off as the bubble encased her. The bubble swiftly popped, followed by a crash as the chocolate child fell. 

   “-ESN’T MATTER.” The high pitched voice cut into the silence like a boxcutter. Molly jumped in schock, and fell from her chair. It was so quiet, the sudden noise sounded like a car alarm.  The other 2 kids scramble over to help her up, and ensure everything is ok. This isn’t the first time this has happened, actually it happens all the time. It’s very easy not to see the bubble, and it can grow when Molly doesn’t pay attention. Luckily the floors are carpeted, and Molly isn’t hurt in any way. Feenie worries regardless, same as always. This time though, Trixie is the first to speak up. 

   “Um… Is he ok?” She asks in a shaky voice, pointing at Alcatraz. Throughout their short time together Al has been rather lively and engaging with the girls, he was partaking in the centaur argument just a moment ago. But now he’s silent. Not just that, but he’s slumped in an odd way, like the strings on his shoulders were cut. Al doesn’t have a face, but the positioning of the helmet is reminiscent of a hundred yard stare. Trixie tried to poke him, but he’s incomporial so it didn’t work. He didn’t even notice.

   “I don’t know. I mean, he was in the bubble, but that shouldn’t do this.” Molly says, “It almost looks like…” She trailed off, lost in thought. Then it clicks. “Oh. Oh no.” Once, when Molly was first figuring out her epithet, she used it on someone else. She made them dumb, and it was just like this. The child had only ever done it once, so she doesn’t actually know the full extent of this ability. The only thing that doesn’t check, is that silence bubbles don’t do that. The only side effect is that epithet summons disappear. Wait. Alcatraz is part of an epithet isn’t he? But then he should he completely gone. 

   Molly was about to ask the group, when California Slim walked into the room. The man is holding a tray with several ants on a logs, and 3 glasses of lemonade. He immediately clocks that something is wrong with Alcatraz. The perks of being stuck with someone for nearly a decade, you know their body language as well as the alphabet. 

   “What happened here?” Slim’s voice might have gotten a bit darker than he intended, Molly flinches a tiny bit. 

   “It was an accident! I didn’t mean to, I promise.” The small child’s voice is shaky, clearly filled with fear. Trixie and Feenie are both trying to comfort their friend. 

   “I don’t care about any of that, just tell me what happened.”

   “I’m not entirely sure. I accidentally used my epithet on Al, and this happened. I don’t know why he’s like this though, whenever I use Dumb on Lori’s characters they disappear completely. But Al is acting like I dumbed down his brain. I think it’s because I was only making things quiet. But I’ve only ever done this to real people. I’m just glad he isn’t dead.” Molly speaks with a hesitance, like she doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. Slim sets down the tray, and takes a moment to think. From the sound of things, this kid might be able to get rid of Al. That’s all that Slim has wanted for these past years. The whole reason he named the guy Alcatraz was because he wanted to escape from him. Slim wants to just leave Al as is, so he doesn’t have to deal with those dumb lectures. Yet something in him is telling him not to. Telling him to find a way to undo this. It’s strange, he’s never cared about Al’s well being, why does he care now? Slowly he speaks, “can you fix it?”

   “I don’t know.” 

   There’s a beat of silence before Slim talks. 

   “Well then.” He cannot believe the kindness in his voice. It sounds foreign. That might not be accurate. He’s spoken like this before, back when he took care of her. What’s the point in avoiding her name? Beverly Hills. He hasn’t spoken like this since the last time he talked to Beverly. “It’s ok. If there’s nothing we can do for now, then we just have to wait. I do have an idea or two to get him back to normal, but none of that’s good for children to watch. How about we take a break from homework and eat these snacks? Looks like you’ve gotten enough done for now.” He figured a distraction would be a good way to calm the kid down. Picking up on the idea of a distraction, Trixie jumped in. 

   “Let me show you my new potion! This one is a potion of heat.”

“Is it just hot sauce?”

“Wha- No!”