Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rekrap snaps his fingers in front of Branzy’s dazed eyes, bringing Branzy back to a conscious state.

“Man, we need to do something about your mental state,” Rek says, laughing awkwardly.

Branzy blinks. He rubs his eyes, sighing. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking at Rekrap through his white eyelashes. ”I haven't been sleeping too well as of late.” He brings his hands back down to his lap, picking at his chipped nail polish.

Rek jerks his eyebrows, unsurprised. “Yeah, your eyebags totally didn’t give that away at all,” he deadpans, shrugging off his blue jacket and hanging it over the back of the chair.

“Haha,” Branzy mocks a laugh, blankly glaring at his teammate.

Rek only shrugs. “Only stating the obvious,” he says, dropping his gaze down to his coffee.

Branzy watches mindlessly as Rekrap cautiously zeros in on the silver spoon handle sticking out of the cup. Slowly, the spoon starts stirring his coffee, Rek not even needing to lift a finger.
His magic was growing stronger, Branzy would give it that.
Branzy remembers the phone call the morning Rekrap discovered he could do things like that when he had woken up with things floating around his room after a particularly gruesome dream that Branzy did not enjoy hearing about, thank you very much.

Branzy smooths out a wrinkle on his purple button up and peers outside.

The cafe bay window the two are sitting at gives Branzy a perfect view over the city. The people of Lifesteal have been staying under the radar as of late with the news arising of disappearances across the city, so the streets were near empty. Not that disappearances were uncommon, it was just that the missing people had been found to have no connections with one another like those involved in the last few cases.
Another interesting event arising in Lifesteal was the sudden use of magic. Rek, Branzy’s best friend, discovered his ability a couple days ago—telekinesis; it was another thing that raised Branzy’s eyebrow. Just like the cases, as far as Branzy knows, everyone blessed with powers have had no genuine use or need for them. Honestly, what would Rek even need telekinesis for?

Branzy glances around the booth, looking around at the other customers. A man with red skin and sunglasses, posture like he owns the place, sits across the table from a man with one of his eyes covered in some sort of glitch-particle—likely effects of their own powers. The red man is chattering away, ego loud and proud as the other man stares at his phone, typing away.

Reg grabs Branzy’s attention as he grabs the spoon, tapping it on the rim of his mug to drop off any extra coffee. Branzy watches as he places the spoon on the small dish to the right of the cup.

Rek clears his throat. “So, have you gotten any idea of what your weird ability is? Or even when it’s going to show itself?”

Branzy sighs, wrapping his slender fingers around the handle of his own drink. “No, and at this rate, I don’t think I’m getting one,” he says, truthfully.

Rekrap nods, his facial expression laced with pity with his brows furrowed and tanned skin wrinkled. “I’m sorry, B.”

He shrugs. “I’ve heard not everyone got magic, so at least I'm not the only one.”

Branzy pauses when he hears the bell to the cafe door ring. A man in a suit glides in, and everyone in the building goes silent to watch as he walks straight to the counter. Even the red guy, who was once sitting with confidence, has promptly shut his mouth.

After finishing his order, the strange man steps over to the red guy and his companion. “Hello, Reddoons; Ashswag.” He says, sitting down at the empty chair.

The red man—seemingly Reddoons—goes back to his carefree attitude. “Clown Pierce! Welcome back to Lifesteal, my friend.”

Branzy can’t see the man's face, but it wipes away the smile off of Reddoon’s face as quickly as it had appeared.

Branzy forces his attention away when the waitress appears at his table.
“He scares me.” she mutters, and Rek snorts.

“Yeah, well, Clown is one of the most widely known psychopaths in all of Lifesteal.”

The waitress nods. She turns to Branzy, holding out the coffee pot towards his cup, but Branzy shakes his head. “Thanks, but I’m alright, Miss…”

“Hannah, Hannah Rose,” she says, holding out her hand.

Branzy takes it, giving her a firm handshake. “I’m Branzy, and this,” he pauses, pulling his hand away, using it to point towards Rekrap, “is Parker.”

He nods, extending his hand out to Hannah who takes it. “Everyone calls me Rek, though.”

Hannah hums, pulling her hand away from his own. “Pleasure to meet the two of you! Sorry about the wait—your original waiter ran out the back the second he heard that Clown was here.” She says, dropping her voice to a whisper.
Branzy watches as she shifts her gaze in the three’s general direction.

A sudden ding comes from the counter.
“Order for Clown,” says a man with pure white hair from behind the counter.
Branzy can't pull his eyes away as he watches Clownpierce saunter away from his table, making his way towards the counter. Clown catches his eye, and Branzy pulls his gaze away immediately.

“Oh Leo, thank you for this delightful drink.” Clown says from the counter.

Branzy picks up on the sarcasm. He peeks at Clown, whose back has been turned to face him, and Branzy lets out a sigh.
The man behind the counter—Leo—simply rolls his eyes. “It’s black coffee, Clown, only you would find something as bitter as your attitude delightful.”

Branzy hears Clown chuckle. “Always a tease, Leo.”

Leo’s facial expression stays stern. “Uh huh .” He grabs a rag from under the counter and wipes at a puddle of coffee in front of him.

“Your service is greatly appreciated!” Clown says, turning away from the counter. He flips a coin backwards and Leo catches it, dropping it in the tip jar with a sigh.

Before Clown and Branzy can even come close to making eye contact once again, Branzy quickly turns away and stares potently as his drink. He can shake the feeling of being stared at, unfortunately.

Branzy glances up to find Rek and Hannah staring at him. “Man, you really need to get the medication they were recommending you.”

Branzy balls up a napkin and throws it at his head.

𓊈🃟𓊉

Branzy glances at the watch on his wrist as the sun sets above the buildings of the city. It was almost nine, and Branzy needed to be back at his apartment before his roommate freaks and calls the cops.

Branzy pauses when he notices a shortcut in between two of the buildings. It would only save him a couple minutes, but it would mean a couple minutes shorter of a lecture from a worried sick Fail Boat. Branzy sighs, defeated by his own mind, ultimately making the move to turn right and pass through the alleyway.

Branzy makes it merely twenty feet away from the other side of the alley when two men turn in.
Branzy pauses, tension slowly rising around him.

He reaches into his back pocket to grab his phone to call Fail and tell him he’d be home soon—because everyone knows you don’t go for someone when they’re expected somewhere—but he can barely push the first number of his password before his phone is yanked from his hands.

“Hello there, pretty boy,” one of the men coos.
Branzy feels the hair on the back of his neck go up.

“Oh—hello!” Branzy says, looking between the two of them. He watches as the other man toys with his phone.

“What are you doing right now, pal?” the man closest to him says, moving just slightly closer. The guy with his phone passes them, stopping on the other side of Branzy. He stuffs Branzy’s phone into his back pocket, looking at Branzy with a very uncomfortable smile.

“I was just on my way home,” Branzy answers, carefully.

“Oh, man,” the man says, apathetically. “Well, is anyone expecting you soon?”

“My roommate, yeah,” Branzy stutters, backing up till he was just an inch away from the wall behind him.

The other man crosses his arms, leaning against the wall on Branzy’s right. “Don’t worry, handsome, you’ll get home soon.” The look on his face is telling Branzy to turn and run, but the man in front of him reaches his arm out towards Branzy, causing him to stumble back against the wall.

The man presses his hand to the wall past Branzy’s face, and Branzy’s heart drops.
“What do you think, pretty boy?”

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Branzy hears, causing his gaze to snap up to meet that of Clown Pierce, standing only a foot away from him.

The man pinning Branzy to the wall looks over his shoulder. “Do you mind, mate?” he says, eyes glaring.

Branzy watches Clown nod. “I do, actually.”

Out of his peripheral vision, Branzy watches the man leaning against the wall straighten quickly.

“Listen, dude, we’re in the middle of something, here.” The man pulls his arm away, dropping it in his pocket.

“Dude, we should go,” the man next to Branzy says.
Branzy steals a glance at him, and he looks down right horrified.

“Are you kidding? This piece of shit isn’t going to do anything.”

Clown’s face remains stoic, but Branzy can feel the absolute terror pulsing through his bones.
“Are you sure about that?” Clown asks, hands casually stuffed in his pockets.

“Man, we need to go?”

“Why the hell should I be scared of him?” the guy shouts, laughing at Clown. “He’s just a guy in a suit.”

“He’s Clown Pierce.”

Branzy watches as the confusion on the man’s face slowly turns to that of understanding, then fear. He turns quickly back to Clown. Branzy follows his gaze and Clown is smiling.

“Correct!” Clown claps his hands together in mock applause. “I believe if you know my name, you also know the reputation it holds?”

Branzy pauses. He had no idea what kind of person Clown really was aside from the conversation between Rek and the waitress earlier that day.

The man says nothing, but Clown gets his answer, anyway. “Wonderful!” he exclaims, his smile growing heinous. Branzy feels the air around drop when Clown moves to grab a gun from his pocket. “And I do have a weapon, yes, so I recommend you get a move on before I have to use it.” The smile drops from his face as he narrows his eyes.

Branzy feels his mind go blank as the two men start scrambling away, but he can’t stop staring at the madman.

Clown glances at him, eyebrows pointed. “Give me the word and I’ll shoot.”

Branzy blinks. He shakes his head quickly, finally registering what Clown had said.

Clown simply shrugs, putting the gun back into his belt. He turns around, heading out of the alleyway from where he’d come from. “Come on, Branzy.”

Branzy blinks, looking behind him to see that the two men had disappeared completely. He turns back, quickly hustling up to walk next to Clown.
“Thank you.” he mutters, hoping Clown can tell how genuinely he meant it.

Clown’s gaze stays forward so Branzy stays quiet. How exactly do you thank someone for saving your ass?

Branzy watches Clown’s lips turn upward as his shoulders start shaking, and Branzy realizes he’s laughing. Branzy flushes of embarrassment as he mindlessly follows Clown out of the alleyway and out onto the sidewalk.
“Thank you,” Branzy repeats, slowing down to pause as they turn the corner.

Clown stops a few steps away before turning around and oh he has really long eyelashes.
Clown’s eyebrows furrow before he arches one of them, smiling curiously at Branzy.

“…You don’t have to thank me, Branzy.” Clown says, finally breaking the stretch of silence between the two of them.

Branzy takes a breath before a clatter from somewhere behind him prompts him to spin quickly.
He notices a bird perched on a now fallen trash lid and quickly feels his face go red. He turns and walks straight past Clown, ready to go home and forget every event of this night ever.

Clown must get the memo, turning on his heel following right behind the silver haired man.

The two continue in silence, and if Branzy were to be honest, it was eating him alive. Clown doesn’t even want a ‘thank you’? For saving his life? Yeah, right. Branzy trusts there's a catch there somewhere.

Branzy.
The name had rolled off his tongue so easily, Branzy would’ve guessed Clown was just an old friend.
But he wasn’t.

Branzy stops dead in his tracks and Clown runs into him, cursing at the sudden stop.
“Dang, Branzy, warn a guy…” he mumbles, and Branzy sees Clown up as he watches the ground behind him.

“How do you know my name,” Branzy says, quietly, his heart racing.

Clown blinks. “Did you never tell me?”
Branzy turns slowly, turning to face Clown entirely as he shakes his head.
Clown, the maniac that he is, smiles innocently. “Well, then, a magician never reveals his secrets!” he charms. He walks and stops in front of Branzy.

Branzy fights the urge to scream bloody murder when he feels Clown place a hand on the small of his back. He pushes for Branzy to move on, and he, for some absurd reason, obliges.

Clown seems quite…Branzy can’t even find a word to describe Clown. Stern might do the trick, but Clown looks almost soft. Angelic even, which is mildly concerning considering the man has a gun tucked into his waistband.
Branzy does his best to keep his gaze forward, but it’s hard to keep his eyes away from how the tips of Clown’s ears are bright pink. Branzy frowns. Is he cold?

Clown pauses at a stoplight to let the cars pass by. Branzy follows suit, but feels as Clown shifts slightly closer. From the corner of his eye, Branzy can see Clown looking around them for what, if he were to guess, another sign of human life.
“Did you really think it was smart to be walking around at night with the current state of Lifesteal?” Clown asks suddenly.

Branzy blinks, and then violet meets green. The second their eyes connect, Branzy feels his face warm. He drops his gaze, trying to hide the redness of his skin.

He hears Clown chuckle, who then uses his free hand to grip Branzy’s jaw forcing him to look up. Clown’s eyes gleam, slightly, and Branzy can’t tell if he feels his heart bloom or shatter. Clown’s smile drops slightly. “What would’ve happened if I didn’t find you, Branzy?” he asks, although he seems to know the answer to that question better than anybody. “If you knew what they were planning, thinking—” Clown pauses. His eyes drop down slightly before he lifts them to make eye contact with the silver haired man again.

Branzy’s fight or flight is begging to kick in, but he pushes down the nagging feeling in the back of his head.

Clown glances toward the street and drops his hand from Branzy’s chin before using the hand still on his back to nudge Branzy forward.

The two continue the walk in complete silence, and Branzy can’t shake the feeling of Clown’s hand burning into his back.
Down the street, through the old street lamps, Branzy makes out the figure of a man walking towards them.
As if reading his mind, Clown snakes his hand around Branzy’s waist, pulling Branzy closer into his side. Branzy glances up at Clown who nods at the man as he passes by with one of the most ingenuine smiles Branzy has ever seen.

After a moment, Clown snorts.

Branzy turns, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “What are you laughing at?”

Clown shakes his head, chuckling. “I’m sorry, I feel like I’m treating you like a child.” Clown, much to Branzy’s sudden dismay, removes himself from Branzy’s side. Clown looks past Branzy and stops walking, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Branzy comes to a pause, following Clown’s line of vision to find they're at his apartment complex.
A complex Clown has definitely never been to.

“Wait, how did you know where I—” he starts to say, but when Branzy turns around, he’s alone. He glances down the sidewalk, looking for the madman, but there's no one there. He sighs, accepting his defeat before walking through the sliding doors of the building.

When Branzy opens the door to his apartment, Fail throws his arms around Branzy, before promptly placing his hands on Branzy’s shoulders and lecturing him for being late hours longer than he would have had Branzy never taken that shortcut in the first place. Next time he leaves the apartment, Branzy’ll bring a weapon of his own.

Chapter Text

Branzy groans, shifting slingly to turn off his alarm before dropping his head back onto the pillow.

Job. Work. Employment. Fun, fun, fun. 

After a few moments of staring into the cotton fabric of his pillow case, Branzy rolls over and grabs his shirt he’d thrown on the ground the night before. Sitting up, he checks his phone, a new crack on the screen from the oaf who’d dropped it when he ran away from him the night before. There’s a few emails waiting to be opened. He moves his thumb to click the top email, but something about the second one catches his eye. An unrecognized sender. He taps the notification, and it opens to an image.

Branzy feels his heart drop. 

It’s a photo of him. Him and Clown Pierce. It was taken from a higher angle, catching Clown’s face perfectly. Branzy hadn’t noticed it when they were walking in the street, but from the photo, it looks like Clown’s looking at Branzy like a starved lion. Branzy feels his stomach drop—not from fear, not from confusion; from intrigue. 

A knock on the door triggers Branzy’s reflex. He immediately shuts his phone off and throws it to the side as Fail opens the door, wearing brown cargo pants and a disgustingly bright yellow hoodie.

Branzy watches Fail’s face fall flat. “Dude…if you’re gonna watch that freaky shit, I'd rather it not be on my wifi, thank you.”

It only takes a moment for Branzy to process the absolute monstrosity that just left Fails mouth, more so focused on the fact they both pay for the bills. He feels his face go hot. “Fuck off,” he said, cheeks probably bright red.

Fail rolls his eyes. “Get up—company’s here.”

Branzy ponders into the living room, shattered phone in hand, to find Rek sitting on the floor behind the coffee table. He’s more dressed up, wearing a dark blue button up, similar to Branzy’s but slightly more loose, and black dress pants. His much more suitable shade of yellow vest is laid out behind him on the couch.

When Rek looks up, he smiles at Branzy. “Parrot’s invited us to join him and Wifies at the Carnival in Unstable—said the carnival was ‘planning a big surprise’,” he says, making quotation marks with his tanned fingers.

Branzy turns to look at Fail, who's already shaking his head. “Sorry, Park, I’ve got a project with Noah that I can’t miss.”

Rek shrugs, shifting his gaze to Branzy. “Don’t make me go alone?”

Branzy hums. “What day?”

Rek hesitates. “Tomorrow?”

The white haired man sighs, checking the calendar on his phone. Seeing he has nothing scheduled, he shoves the phone back into his pocket. “I guess the circus it is.”

Rek grins. “Alright.” He glances at his watch. “I’m going to the mall, you guys want to come?”

“Oh, for sure.” Fail says. 

Branzy hums. “I’m clear for today—I need to get a new one of these,” he says, pulling his communicator back out to show them the shattered screen. 

Rek raises his eyebrow. “When did that happen?”

Branzy shrugs. “Last night, on my way home.”

Fail snorts. “I told you to come home on time.”

The white haired man deadpans. “I ran into some trouble, it’s not my fault.”

Rek rolls his eyes. “Go get changed, B.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” he mumbles, turning back to his room.

🃟

Branzy walks out of the store, new phone in hand. He’s dressed in his typical black trousers and purple button up, along with his black pinstripe vest. His black shoes click against the marble floor. “Okay, where to next?”

Fail’s stomach grumbles, causing Rek to snort. “Food court it is, then.”

He turns, taking a few steps before walking face first into someone. He stumbles back, and Branzy feels his heart beat faster. “Shit, I’m so sorry—” Rek freezes, slowly realizing who it is.

“It’s alright.” Clown stares down at him, face full of amusement. He’s in his usual get up, hair slicked back but just messy enough to give him a more elegant style. Branzy fells his face flush.

Rek takes a few steps back. “Clown Pierce..”

Clown nods, grinning with his teeth, a glint in his, ironically, piercing green eyes. “The one and only,” he says, taking a dramatic bow that makes Branzy’s stomach churn. Clown stands straight, glancing at Fail. “I hope you and your friends…” he trails off when he spots Branzy. “…enjoy your shopping.” Clown’s grin widens as he takes a step towards him. “Hello, Branzy Craft.”

Branzy nods, words catching in his throat. Don’t say anything stupid, don’t say anything stupid, don’t say anything stupid.

Glown’s smile softens.

Don’t say anything at all, don’t say anything at all— “Nice to see you again, Clown.” Fuck him.

Clown snorts, putting a hand on Branzy’s shoulder as he walks past him. “Can’t wait to see you at the show, tomorrow, gentlemen.” Clown throws back over his shoulder as people passing him cower in fear.

Branzy turns, watching him leave.

“What the fuck?” 

“Yeah, so, that’s what happened.” Branzy mumbles, staring at the table. He glances up to see Rek using his telekinesis to stir his coffee, elbows rested on the table, fingers laced under his chest. 

“Why didn’t you call? I would’ve ran and met you!” Fail exclaims, forehead in his hand as he analyzing Branzy.

“Are you okay, though?” Rek asks, studying Branzy’s face.

Branzy nods, grabbing his water bottle. “I guess so.” He takes a sip.

Rek drops a hand to the table, tapping out his thoughts. “Maybe we won't go to the carnival tomorrow.”

Branzy’s hands grip the side of the table. “No!”

Fail and Rek stare at him in confusion.

“Uh—I mean, he already expects us to be there.”

Fail rolls his eyes and Rek clears his throat. “I’d like to know how he found that out, actually.”

Fail pauses. “Wait, yeah, you’re right—how did he know? You think he knows I’m not going?”

Branzy looks down at his hands. Could that be related to how Clown knew his name? “It could be his power?”

Fail nods. “Yeah, yeah—like how I can teleport, Rek can use the force or whatever, and you—” Fail pauses. “—Shit, sorry.”

Branzy grunts, glaring down at his water. “It’s fine.”

Rek stares at him, then sputters. “The force?” He whips his head to squint at Fail, who raises his hands in defense, laughing.

“It’s true!”

Rek rolls his eyes, glancing back at Branzy. “So we’re going?”

Branzy huffs, meeting his gaze. “Yep.”