Chapter Text
The death wasn't what Hermie really expected.
Not that they expected something grand - those past few weeks (or was it months? Sometimes it felt like years) Hermie waited for Death to claim them at any moment. From the moment they sat down on that Pussywagon and went through a weird portal, to a different plane of existence - really, they would be a fool to not expect Death. The following incident was proof of that - painfully so, in the form of burned scars, littering their body in what seems to be a perfect division between their right and left side. Many times after that, Death came close to them, but for some reason never took them. Someone always managed to pull them just before the skeleton hand would close its bonny fingers around them.
More often than not, it was Normal. Perhaps, he should have blamed Normal for the inability to meet Death properly.
Because, after a while, things become so busy, Hermie even forgot that the Death was a real, definite thing. Their journey felt so crazy and chaotic that Death started to feel like another joke: another scam, another anecdote, meant to pry a couple of laughs from the audience before the closing hour.
And in this exact moment, when Hermie forgot that Death existed, the fast bullet shot right through his chest. Somehow, he only noticed it after he crossed the portal from Hell to the New Earth, when his legs gave up and he became too aware of how warm and wet his vest was.
Some part of him still didn't believe that he was about to die. Some part of him was sure that someone would come up to him and heal him. Some part of him was afraid that they won't notice him again and leave him to bleed out against the white as bone wall.
None of that happened. He was really dying, and his supposed friends noticed it. Despite them holding still unconscious Normal, somehow they noticed the blood on his vest and the presence of Death behind him. They even tried to fix it, screaming for free spell slots and for someone to call an ambulance. It was too late, but the gesture still warmed Hermie's betrayed heart.
So, in their last moments, they let the mask fall and said something from the real Hermie - whoever that was.
And then he was dead. And it wasn't what he expected.
It was painful for a moment - and then it was just...drifting. Aimless drifting in what seems to be a never-ending void. It felt like those moments between being awake and sleeping, when your mind is perfectly aware, but your body is still asleep. Only Hermie didn't have a body now, did he? He was only...consciousness. A true definiton of who Hermie was as a person, and more importantly - as a character. And even then it didn't feel as good as Hermie would imagine it to be.
Needless to say, all of this was anticlimactic. It felt like a bad plot twist, like a poor attempt to make the audience cry, like a joke that didn't quite land and was now disregarded, as if it never happened. Hermie - who was constantly forgotten and remembered only when there was a need for him to do something - did someone really expected that his death specifically would make someone cry? Sure, he got a couple of good moments, and he was amazing at doing what he did, but was it really all? Is it the end of his story?
...Holy shit, it is really the end of his story, isn't it?
Hermie suddenly became aware that it was it. They started their existance as a goof - as a joke, as someone who did not exist before the story began. No, not even before the story began: they did not exist before they were being addressed by a group of teens in the middle of the high school cafeteria. And then they stuck around the same group of teens, who were apparently in the middle of a story of their own, and by being around them, they continued to exist. They went to the dance with Normal, they went to the Forgotten Realms - and somewhere along the way, he became a part of the much larger story.
He became a part of the group - no matter how many times he was forgotten about and disregarded - somehow, he became something more than a goof. More than a throw-away joke.
Holy shit, this makes so much sense now!
But then...then what does his death mean?
Was it really to make the audience cry? To make the stakes higher? To prove again that life is cruel and unforgiving?
Or was it just because someone needed another death to make the story heavy but not too heavy? To kill someone important, but not too important? Someone, people will be sad about, but not too sad?
And the choice was him.
Because he wasn't a child of those who came before. He wasn't the child who started all of this. He wasn't someone who was destined to stop it.
…Was it because Normal liked him? Was it because they knew that Hermie liked Normal too?
Because then it would make him… just a plot tool. Useful until not. Not super important to break, but important enough to still be a valuable part of the story.
...and doesn't this make him angry.
Because, how dare they! How dare they disregard his talents, like he was some poorly rated actor! Like his whole existance didn't mean anything! Like he was just a funny character to play around and then forget! How dare they! He could have been so much more if only they had given him a chance and...
And why does he need their permission? He can take an important role for himself. He can make himself as important as the other characters in the story. He can forge his own destiny, his own fate, his own plotline to follow.
Because they were Hermie the Unworthy. They were the greatest actor who ever walked on all the seven planes of existance. The words were their weapon, the ability to pretend to be anyone, was their power and their end won't be about being shot by the FBI while escaping Hell, because Hermie! Hermie existed for a bigger stage and they will get it in any way he can!
He was the son of the Hell King and the eldritch deity of trickery and scams, after all.
And what wasn't the biggest scam if not in faking your death?
***
The next time Hermie was able to feel his body - he immediatly became aware that he had changed.
There were too many limbs and too many features: they shifted and changed and replaced one another in what felt like a never-ending cycle. He bit his lips with his sharp teeth (ow, but he actually liked those) and forced his body to become stable. It felt similar to making a costume in the middle of the set - some features should stay, some need to go, and some need to be adjusted just a little.
The process of picking and choosing takes time and Hermie becames aware of another presence in the room only after awhile. He feels a pair of hands holding him gently against their chest and the familiar voice, full of pride and joy, beaming right next to him:
“Oh, my darling scamming treasure of a son, you truly did it! You are alive!”
“D-…Scam?”
“Yes, it is me, my child! Oh, you truly look wonderful!! You have grown so much.”
“Where...where am I?”
“In a Goof Realm, of course. You did perform the biggest scam that there is.” Hermie feels kisses on their forehead, that now had horns (one bigger, one smaller). “You managed to do something even your own father was not able to do!”
“Am I....alive?”
“You are! You managed to forge yourself a soul, which is not an easy feat, mind you. Oh, I cannot stop looking at you! Is this what the joy of fatherhood feels like?”
“Wouldn't you like to know?” says bitterly Hermie and tries to get out from his father's arms.
Surpsisingly, his dad holds him tighter, as if he was trully afraid of letting Hermie go. But when Hermie tries again, Scam Likely lets his arms fall and allows Hermie to get out. Hermie can see hesitation on his father's face and it stirs his stomach in a funny way: did his father was trully sad about his death?
“I would want to.” Scam Likely says, looking at Hermie. He looks pathetic like this, not at all like an eldritch deity he is. Definitely not like the guy in the flashback, back in the Church of the Doodler. Perhaps, the divorce did affect him, or maybe Hermie's death was the final push. “If you let me. I think I managed to scam myself out of the joy of seeing your own child grow up into a respectful semi-deity. And without even knowing it!”
He pauses then, and the sincerity on his face feels almost not real, not true.
Hermie doesn't know how to deal with it. Maybe they can deal with it later.
“I need to get my role.” Hermie says. He can still use his father's vulnerability. Get back on him for everything he has done to him, and maybe when he is satisfied, his dad can get some of this joy of fatherhood that he is suddenly so interested in.
“Ah, yes, of course! You would want to return to the main stage, wouldn't you!” Scam Likely claps his hands together and stands up, opening a portal near him. On the other side, Hermie can see the white clouds, yellow light and a fight far ahead. “They would want your help.”
“I am doing it for myself.” Hermie says and Scam Likely just smiles at them. Perhaps their father used to say this too, before he got roped into a story of his own. Perhaps, that something he and Hermie share: the main stage is theirs, but in the end of the day they do it not only for themselves.
He steps through the portal, and one of the greatest roles of his life is about to begin.