Chapter Text
“Day-Pew-Tee!” A hand slamming the door shut behind you. “How kind of you tew visit! What brings ya tew my humble abode ta’day???” A brush of hair, tickling your cheek. Cheeky. Uncomfortable.
Uncomfortable, provided you barely know the 'guy'.
“Sorry to pop in unannounced,” You crank your neck out of the way, ignoring the popping in your bones, the pain from the strain. He’s… Handsy.
You go on to say, “Things are… Hectic-” He flinches, a micro expression flashing across his face as he leans in, scrutinizing you- “Outside, to say the least.”
That should have been your first clue that something was off. But your adrenaline was high, and you watched your every step around him, at the expense of your better judgement.
Inspekta, re-instated god in the flesh. You weren’t around for the whole ordeal, but you were slowly learning how things worked around here in the grove. (Not that you had a true sense of normalcy, but some things came to you intuitively, where others had not.) You knew little about him, other than the fact that he was a known control freak. You had to tread lightly there.
“Are dey now?” A pouty lip, pointer finger squishing his cheek as his head rolls. Feigning ignorance.
Big, expectant eyes seemed to narrow when the silence went on too long. You flustered, blinked, stared at him, then quickly averted your gaze. Not trying to offend this massive creature, no matter how smooth and inoffensive he seemed from the outside.
Where do you even start?
You like living quietly. Peacefully, maybe. You weren't getting none of that here, but that was okay. At first.
Once the initial shock of your rocky arrival wore off, you went about things as anyone would. Odd tasks, daily rounds, had a knack for helping people. So it became your job, and attracted the attention of the many residents local to the area, and of course, the many, many.... Gods,
But recently, that attention only served to worsen. For one reason, you went down in infamy.
Lots of questioning, poking and prodding, endless eyes on you. Your flush flares, remembering how your slightly more acquainted friend - Capochin, dragged you out of the way, clear concern etched on his face. “Ya doin’ okay there?” His eyes, looking back, reminding you of-
He hadn’t heard. Hopefully this so called 'God' Inspekta hadn’t then, either. At least, not the truth.
He most obviously would have figured it out. His eyes on the ground. The way you've been avoiding your usual haunts. The strange behavior the- coming here.
“You’re the God of Leadership, aren’t you?” You choke out, knowing how pathetic you must look. How beneath them all you feel. But you can't take it anymore, the poking, the prodding, the pity- “Tell at least the boys to lay off it a little, I-!”
You slip up again by blurting something you hadn't planned. It's cut off in a quick and rapid humiliation.
Inspekta lets out a ragged laugh, barely containing his glee. It was unlike you to seek out the help of a god.
“So you ‘taught ey, my big, strong, buddy, pal, INSPEKTA! Would bail you out of ta’ mess you started, is dat’ right?”
“You… You know?”
You whimper, groaning as your eyes shut. You miss the way his crazed expression soaks it up with a hunger unmatched.
“Know?? Noooo!!!~” His tongue falls from his mouth, too close to you.
Not that you saw the screen obscured by Inspekta’s huge frame, replaying various clips of a familiar face, frantically muted when he heard the door swing open,
A hand shot out, one of his many, guiding your gaze back to him,
“Noooo!~ I dunno nuthin’!”
Thinks of caressing your chin, a subtle tremor in his digits,
Tilting your head up to lock eyes, breath hitching, and...
“But I see yew’re in a bit of a Pickle! And of COARSE I wouldn’t leave my pooowr little buddy out there to fend off the wulves awlll buy themselves!” He lays it on thick, fake high pitch. The tone he takes on when he’s hiding something.
So maybe it came out that you had feelings for somebody.
*So maybe the entire grove has figured out that you had feelings for some very specific sombody(s).
**So maybe you got absolutely sloshed at Thespius’s weird party and it came out you have a raging thing for middle aged guys that for some reason, the entire surrounding populace knew well. But it was a small island where everyone knew everyone, right?
***So maybe, maybe, you’re entirely out of your mind about recluse-slash-most-awkward-yet-bossy-caring-complicated-complex of a mess man that you know way too little about-
“You’ve got a cruuush~” Voices drowned out. “We can feel the swell of LOVE in your hawt little heart, man!”
(THIRD WHEEL,) Giggles, (nail biting), swoons, (tail chewing), Sweet laughter, (RAGING JEALOUSY,)
It would be wise to note that these were ideas you would never entertain out loud. But apparently with the proper company, and enough weird pink concoction down the hatch, your deepest darkest secrets were not safe on this day.
“Capooochin,” you probably slurred out, dangling onto the arm of a hippie-somebody cute guy who’d been noncommittal-ly flirting with you the entire night.
So that’s who, then.
Capochin. Capochin…
"Yeeeahh~?" The guy turned to you, one eye closed. "But that can't be it, riiight?~ I think there's more..."
You sank deeper into the plaid couch, head craning back. Missing the oddly shaped blue tinted bush right behind you.
“And... his surprisingly... s-strooong!…. Friend…”
“OH yeah, hunny??” Your date said, caressing your chin, smiling widely with both eyes open at once for the first time this night. “Who’s this hunky friend of Capochin’s, huh?”
As if the entire room hadn’t paused in all their partying and swaying to hear this moment of truth, your guard inexplicably being dropped, under a spell,
“He’s, he’s really huuh, hhwow.… Honestly… I wish he’d just… His name… uh, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but-uhhh,” You stammer, unaware of the man in the corner, trying and failing to hide behind a pillar. “Hec-” Your voice cracks, his poker mask falling to reveal the panic underneath- “Tor???”
The music screeched to a halt, mouths hung open, the whole shebang,
“MEeeeEE?!?!-” He squeaked, finger pointed to his face, beet red. You whipped your head around, but he managed to dip back behind his hiding spot, the crowd laser eye-ing him. Being in your blind-spot doesn’t mean everyone else hasn’t seen him there creeping up on you and the poorly disguised Thespius the entire night.
(Huzzle Mug disguised as a conveniently wacky shaped lamp with a solo-cup placed next to it, honking at this incredibly juicy information,)
“Oh-hoh-hooo!~” Your date clasps their hands together, excited. “You should tell him, dearly beloved! There’s really nothing better than unabashed romantic tension!”
“WHAT-” He drops to the floor, drops to his knees, “WHAT-”
“There’s enough of you to go around, dear!” He’s blushing, batting his eyelashes at you. “I’m okay with sharing, so I say go for it!”
Hector wheezing on the ground, trying and failing to prevent a completely unavoidable heart-attack.
A wink, sent his way,
Thespius, I am going to KILL YOU,
((I AM NOT OKAY WITH SHARING,))
But that all was recent history, and you're done recalling your traumatic humiliation when you realize Inspekta's wide eyes are just a little too close. Couldn't know what he was thinking at that exact moment... Couldn't know he was thinking of that exact same moment.
“It will be okay, Prawwwmise!” You’re so small against him in all his… 'hidden length'… His own insidious implication. A something nefarious you suspected was hiding under that squirming coat. “Jus’ leave it to me, ‘kay?”
Keeps himself just an inch off you, too excited to keep himself together, squirming inhumanely, wriggling and writhing in place.
“I’ll make everythin’ betta!”
Just for you, Deeapppuuuteeaa....
The many nights he stayed up, sleepless, echoing the words “CRUSH” in his mind,
How long he spent searching, distracted, desperate to figure out who it was, who you were thinking of,
“But furst, sew uh, Hekta, huh?”
ASKING FOR A FRIeND-
You recoil from him, but he traps you in with two floating hands. Your fear is either lost on him, or deliberately ignored.
“What about him? That lousy lout, lamesy loser, huh?”
You wince, squinting your eyes shut, felling smaller and smaller. There's no way you're about to be bullied about this by a 'God'...
“Please,” You croak, and it makes his veins crawl. Makes him wriggle and writhe. “Please!- I didn’t mean to, I, I didn't want to talk about this, please don't make me talk about this-”
MAKE YOU? MAKE YOU?? FORCE YOU? WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?
YOU DON'T HAVE TO SAY ANYTHING.
I WAS THERE.
Spiraling, spiraling, he quickly snaps out of it, a gently curled digit, barely brushing, ghosting, over your cheekbone.
And now you're here, in front of me...
“It’s okay, wrrreaaallly!~ I won’t judge yew!” He pats your head, pats your cheek, pats your shoulders, circles you with many hands,
Holds you in his grasp,
PLEASE REALIZE,
That one fateful night, the star in the sky,
Maybe some part of you,
realizes,
I wished on it like a fool...
PLEASE RECOGNIZE ME,
Your breath hitches, his eyes swirl, his teeth are bared, in a grimace, in a grin, he looks like he’s lost it, you feel like something terrible is about to happen, you,
--Never expected you to come hiding here, of all places, honestly the pieces were all there and he’s freaking out because it’s such a huge oversight that it can’t possibly be right and,
Your mind wandered, to
To him,
He was a quiet, but somehow outgoing, meek and sheepish, yet somehow domineering individual. He came in a bundle of paradoxes, wrapped nice in a sweater and a gentle smile - when his face wasn’t blank like he’d seen everything wrong with the world, and how he propped people up, how he pulled you aside and sat with you, made you feel seen without sharing a word, put his shoulder to yours and let you sit in the silence of knowing everything was too much but you didn’t have to unpack it all at once and-
Then he brought you along with Capochin to a quiet shack, alone in the woods. You spent the night on the couch, eating chips and watching an old CRT television. Stacks and shelves of VHS tapes, bootlegged movies and clips he’d recorded themselves, labeled with masking tape and sharpies. Paraphernalia of a bygone decade. A home that had seen better days.
Smelled like warmth and cold soda and fresh french fries and stale garage. Squished you between the two of them and let you forget about the world. Didn’t care you were out of place.
That you had no place in it.
You were an outsider, and he trusted you.
Had blind faith in you.
Never saw any fault in you.
Hector made you feel more at home than you’ve probably ever been.
And then he scooped you out of the river, and didn’t let you drown.
Not a metaphor. You fell in.
He fished you out with all the fervor of a man on the brink of death, eyes shining like saving you was the last important thing he would ever do. Hair matted to his neck, glasses long fallen off, brilliant grey eyes glinting with pinprick pupils that looked at you like you were the only thing left worth looking at.
Hook, line, sinker.
Old (young,) man had your heart in a choke hold.
Pulled you in and cradled you in his arms, rocking back and forth, pleading for you to be okay.
Disappeared one day. Left without a word. Like it never mattered.
Complicated.
“I-iii-iiit’s not like that.” You squawk. “I’m just looking for him, I,”
Inspekta squints, mouthing the words you just spoke in a silent echo, processing. “Haven’t seen him for a while.”
He shoots up, rigid.
Yes you have. “Yes you have.”
He shouldn't have said that.
But he shouldn't have said a lot of things.
And even now, he was messing up.
You don’t understand what he means by what he said, but you try to break free from his grasp. He only grips you tighter, expression deadly flat. Deadly serious.
“No, I haven’t.” Your impatience outweighs your survival instinct. "I can't find him, and nobody is looking for him- and I- I'm worried-"
And nobody is looking for him...
A laugh bubbles up in his throat.
Ha ha, ha ha ha,
You fooled him.
(He cries. A whine. A simple tear of frustration.)
You really don't know.
Inspekta hides his face with another set of hands.
You're not just playing coy. Putting on airs. Putting up a front.
Wipes them down his cheeks. The shine in his eyes look crazed to you. Predatorial. Dangerous.
He thought, maybe, some part of you knew.
I’m still messed up.
I still haven’t fixed myself yet.
Everyone is expecting me to do the right thing.
Inspekta is still unstable.
He cannot escape himself. No matter who he's dealing with.
Not even with you.
“Sawwry,” He pulls away, dipping his head in shame.
Leaving you cold.
“I shouldn’ta gotten so ahead of myself.”
What?
You’re confused, he knows you’re confused.
He opens the door for you, and without much grace, rushes to push you out.
“Come back late-a’, De-ap-uuu-teeea,” You hear him calling behind. “And I’lluh have this whole thing a-sorted for ya, alright?”
He slams the door, and you hear the lock click.
“You’s alright?” Capochin catches you, before you can fall onto the grass. “What’s goin on?”
Having overheard the waver in Inspecta's voice, he knows something is wrong. Very, very wrong.
“It’s nothing...” His eyes widen, hand reaching out as you flinch out of his grasp. You stay for a moment, looking back. But then you remember with a wince, what you said, and he sees it too.
You do the thing you're good at. You run away.
The last thing you hear from him is "W-Wait!". But you're too steeped in your own shame to turn around and face him properly.
[“FUCk!” The god exclaims, behind the door,]
-writes Click Clack with a guilty expression, not wanting the story to be so cliche. It’s too soon. There needs to be more development, the god grimaces.
“You’re evil.” Cobigail kicks her feet, reading over his script. “You can’t leave our poor Hector hanging like that, he’s probably devastated!”
That same manuscript he won’t share with any of the other gods, that he snatches out of her hands to make a shushing motion.
[And Cobigail, well Cobigail doesn't fully register the ramifications of what they're doing.]
[Click Clack hides the parts where she's mentioned from her.]
--So maybe the Great God Polycule was supposed to be a oneshot, but the God of Storytelling has far too many ideas for it to wrap up so neatly in one chapter.
Hopefully Hector doesn’t find out what they’re up to…