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If there is one thing Party Poison loves about keeping watch at night it's the chance to spend more time with Fun Ghoul. It's an unspoken agreement they have: Party and Ghoul are always taking night watches together unless one of them is on a supply run, and Party couldn't be happier about it.
The night is quiet. Ghoul is obviously bored out of his mind: they can't keep any lights on, can't even turn on Trans Am headlights — it's going to attract Dracs, or a scavenger gang, and the last thing anyone wants is getting in a clap in the middle of the night. Which means Ghoul can’t tinker on his brand new pipe bomb (he designed it himself and has been boasting about it for the past week). Which, in turn, means he is going to compensate for it by being incredibly annoying. Not that Party minds, but they can't afford to lose their concentration.
Ghoul kicks an empty soda can. It rolls in the sand until it hits the concrete remains of what once used to be a curb.
“I’m bored,” Ghoul announces. “Can we go shoot something?”
“Please, no,” Party mutters under their breath.
“Come on, it’s boring!” Ghoul whines. “All we do is sit on our asses.”
“I don't mind,” Party shrugs. “Better than a clap.”
“A clap right now would be nice.”
“Dude, don't jinx it.”
Ghoul falls silent. For a moment Party is worried he is pissed at them. Fun Ghoul is not the kind of person anyone would want to see angry, even though he doesn’t look all that threatening. Party has had enough experience in their life to know better than get on Ghoul’s bad side. He can give people silent treatment better than Kobra Kid, and this is an achievement, considering that Kobra hasn’t said a single word to anyone ever since he and Party left Battery City. But then Ghoul rests his head against their shoulder and it becomes clear that the crisis has passed.
Party looks up at the night sky. In the distance, on the horizon, the lights of the city paint the sky red and yellow. Party vaguely remembers that it hasn't been this way before; just a few years ago they couldn't see the city lights from their diner, and the stars and the moon were the only bright spots in the sky.
It's growing. The city is spreading its tentacles across the desert. If they're not careful enough, one day it will devour the world.
“Hey, Pois’,” Ghoul gives them a light nudge. “You good?”
Party responds with a noncommittal hum.
“Come on, what’re you thinking about?”
Ghoul is not going to leave them alone. Because he’s bored. Because he is constantly moving, always trying to find something to occupy himself with or he will lose his mind. And also because Party has been staring at the sky for the past minute, and even for them it's a bit alarming.
“Do you ever think that history has ended?”
Ghoul scoffs. “What?”
“I’ve got this feeling,” Party continues, not sure if what they're about to say sounds like something a sane person would ever think about, “that we're living at the end of history. And when we die there will be nothing left.”
Ghoul stares. Party shivers under his heavy concerned gaze.
“Okay,” Ghoul coughs. “Shit got morbid real fuckin’ fast.”
“I’m just curious, that's all.”
“Are you really?”
“Yeah,” Party nods. “It's just… do you ever think about the city?”
They know it's a risky question. The past is private for those of killjoys who came to the Zones from Battery City. It requires more than trust to tell anyone about who they used to be before escaping. Party isn’t sure Ghoul has enough faith in them to give out his secrets — for someone with a motor mouth such as his he somehow manages to say a lot without actually revealing anything, — isn’t sure if they should have asked him about the city in the first place.
“No,” Ghoul says sharply. “I don’t.”
It’s a lie. They both know it’s a lie, and yet Party doesn’t have the willpower to pressure Ghoul. If he’s set on something, he won’t let go.
“I do,” they say quietly. “Sometimes.”
The memories are scarce, scattered around their mind. They get flashes from the past from time to time and what they remember makes them almost double over in pain.
“Pois’, stop,” Ghoul croaks. “I don’t—”
“I think it’s important,” Party interrupts him. “I think it’s coming for us. Not just, y’know, us, but for us as in,” they spread their arms, “all this. And no matter how fast we run, it’s gonna catch up with us and crush us.”
Ghoul is quiet, suspiciously so. Party doesn’t dare look him in the eyes. They were wrong to start this conversation. They should have kept it all to themself.
“And I mean,” they tilt their head, “it’s getting bigger. Have you noticed?”
“Maybe,” Ghoul mutters. “Why?”
“It’s taking over everything,” Party sucks in a sharp breath. “It’s… it’s not enough for them. They’re gonna take everything they can, and when they do, they’re gonna suck it dry and turn it into merchandise.” Their vision is bleary. Party blinks away the tears. “And I’m not sure if I can fight this.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
How can they possibly explain? They already feel stupid just for mentioning it, they should have changed the subject when they still could. But they made a mistake, and now they’re stuck in this conversation, looking like they’ve lost their mind.
“Poison?” Ghoul’s fingers brush against their wrist. “Gee, what’s going on with you?”
“Nothing,” Party mumbles. “Forget it.”
“Nope. You’re not doing that again.”
“Doing what?”
“That,” Ghoul says, like it’s self-evident. “You can’t just say all that depressing shit and then act like it’s fucking okay.”
“It’s not depressing, it’s…”
“It’s what, then?” Ghoul rubs his temples. “First you said that something’s coming for us, then you said, and I quote, “I’m not sure if I can fight it”, and if this isn’t fucking depressing I don’t know what is. So spill it out.” His voice softens. “Come on, what happened?”
“Nothing, I’m telling you.”
“Stop lying,” Ghoul says, surprisingly firm. “Just stop, okay? Maybe I could help.”
“You can't.”
Because nobody can help. This isn't something anyone can fight, not even Ghoul, no matter how much he believes he's invincible.
“I could listen,” Ghoul argues. “I mean, it’s not much, but I can try, right?”
Party doubts it could help. But they are already too far gone to back off now, and Ghoul’s attention is fixed on them, he won't let them get away.
“It’s stupid,” they mumble. “I’m thinking too much. I’m thinking that us, what we're trying to do here, is never going to be enough, and those motherfuckers from Battery City are going to win. Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but they're gonna win because they have everything, and we only have ourselves. And we can't just stay in different hemispheres and ignore each other, ‘cause they're never leaving us alone, not as long as they can't control us. And they're gonna get us all in the end. Kill us, recondition us, whatever. But we're gonna lose, and I’m just so goddamn scared that I will live long enough to see it.”
I’m so scared it makes me want to press the eject button before they can get me.
They don't say it out loud. Ghoul is already worried enough, he doesn't need to deal with Party’s suicidal ideation. They're not even suicidal. They're just trying to think ahead.
A warm hand rests on their shoulder.
“Hey,” Ghoul’s voice almost drowns in the cricket of cicadas. “Look at me.”
Party tilts their head. Their hair falls on their face, effectively hiding their pained expression from Ghoul’s eyes.
“It’s okay,” Ghoul says. “I’m scared too.”
Party isn't sure what to say. Ghoul rarely admits he's scared, and he hates showing his vulnerable side to anyone.
“But we got each other, right?” He continues. “This should count as something.”
“And then what?” Party sighs. “Ghoul, you don't get it—”
“I do. Trust me.” A weak crooked smile appears on his lips. “And I think it would've been so much scarier if we were on our own. But we aren't, so if they ever get us we nobody will have to go down alone. Even if you're right and we're gonna lose this fight.” He leans closer, and his lips brush against Party's cheek. “I got your back.”
Party can't stop themself from smiling at this.
“As long as you let me return the favour.”
Fun Ghoul grins. “Wouldn't have it any other way, baby.”