Chapter Text
The Ritual failed.
It failed badly.
It was horrible.
Coughing, Pocket walks through the remains of what used to be the Hidden King. The fight ended a few minutes ago, and the winners left to get granted their wish. The losers? They are still licking their wounds.
Pocket clutches their side and groans slightly. Mina got a few too many shots on them — she was targeting them specifically the whole Ritual.
Pocket doesn't know what to do with themself now. Go back into hiding? Go back to Mo and Krill and their tunnels and hide there for all eternity? They were supposed to take down their father and take over Fairfax. Get the revenge they desperately yearned for years. It all failed and Pocket is lost.
Stepping over a big pile of wood, they spot Bebop leaning against a railing and seemingly tightening a screw on his left arm. He was fighting along their side for the majority of the Ritual and protecting them from Mina's deadly bullets and Lash's devastating ground slams. Pocket is relieved to see Bebop alive. They grew to like the scrap golem during the fight.
Bebop's words before the Ritual start flashing through Pocket's mind.
"Pocket. I don't mean to pry, but... if after the ritual you need a place to stay..."
They turned the offer down at first but now they might actually have to take it up again. Just for a few days, Pocket thinks.
They walk up to Bebop and clear their throat. The golem looks up from his arm towards Pocket.
"Hey, mate!", Bebop greets them. "That was a helluva fight, ay? Too bad we couldn't push through at the end, but it was close! At least I got to see Lash bleed and scurry away like a rat at times."
"Yeah..., it was... something. I just wish we... you know, won.", Pocket clears their throat again and avoids eye contact with Bebop. "About your... offer before the ritual.". Gods, this is embarrassing. Pocket should just turn tail, leave New York, leave all of America and hide away somewhere in the Alps until the end of their lifetime. No one could find them if they hide high up in the mountains.
"It still stands!", Bebop's voice rips Pocket away from their spiraling thoughts. "I'm sure Ms. Shelly would be excited to meet you. I'll even bake your favorite dessert if you want me to. There isn't a lot at the junkyard, but you can stay with us however long you want to."
Pocket should decline again. They don't want to put Bebop nor Ms. Shelly in danger but having a somewhat save place to rest after the constant fighting before leaving New York would be great. But they can also rest in all the tunnels Mo and Krill created, but there they could run into Seven, and he will surely put a whole magazine into their body. Or maybe they can scratch enough money together to spend a night at the Baroness, since The Doorman did offer them a stay, so maybe it won't cost as much as it usually does. Or maybe they-
"I would gladly stay with you and Ms. Shelly, she sounds like a nice woman.", Pocket's mouth moves faster than their mind. Shit. They can still pull their agreement back, right? Tell Bebop they don't know what they are talking about and still hide away in the Alps.
Bebop nods, tightens the screw one last time and steps away from the railing. "Well, then we should head out now. It's already late and I don't want to miss teatime with Ms. Shelly. Plus, the biscuits I baked before heading out cooled down fully by now, so we can enjoy them with tea!".
Tea with freshly baked biscuits. When was the last time Pocket had tea with freshly baked biscuits? Probably before the assassination. Before their life turned into the hell it is now.
Pocket nods and walks beside Bebop out of the ritual room and into the streets of New York. Their walk is mostly silent, some chatter about the fight fills the silence, but the pair is mostly alone with their thoughts. Pocket's side still hurts, but they try their best to not show their discomfort to Bebop. They already intrude quite a lot; they don't want the golem to worry about more things.
But Gods, their side makes it hard to keep up pace with Bebop's large steps. Pocket grabs their side again, pushing against it in hopes it will ease the pain. It doesn't, and a groan forces its way out of Pocket's mouth.
Bebop stops in his tracks and turns to look at Pocket.
"You alright there, mate?"
"Yeah, yeah..., I just got injured a bit at the end and the Patron couldn't heal it fully before falling. I'll be fine after some rest, though, you mustn't worry."
'Just drop it and please move on, Bebop', Pocket thinks and looks away from Bebop again. The sun has fully set by now, moonlight showering the duo in the quiet street.
Bebop hums as he takes a step closer to Pocket and extends his hand towards their side.
"I can take a look. Ms. Shelly taught me how to--", Bebop stops in his tracks when Pocket freezes up and takes a step away from him. Turning their back to him, Pocket crosses their arms over their chest, in hopes of Bebop understanding that they don't want him to touch them or their wound.
"Alright. I understand," Bebop pulls his hand back and nods. "Just take care of it yourself when we get to the junkyard, got it? I don't want you to get an infection and die of it. You might've survived bullets today, but an infection can kill anyone.". Bebop starts walking again and pauses when he notices Pocket isn't following him. He tilts his head and waits.
Pocket sighs again and walks up next to him.
"Let's not keep Ms. Shelly waiting any longer, right?"
----
The junkyard is huge.
Piles of old machines, big and small, litter the entire area. Despite the huge amount of scrap, everything is rather organized. Pocket notices areas where primarily old cars stand around. Other areas contain all kinds of metal sheets, neatly stacked in different sizes. A distinct path shows the way towards a rather big home, surrounded by greenery and big plants in equally big pots. A small light burns inside one of the rooms, and quiet jazz music can be heard from outside.
Bebop walks up to the front door and knocks three times before pulling out a key from underneath the matt and unlocking it. He pushes it open and steps through before turning towards Pocket and gesturing inside.
"Bebop is that you, dear? You really took your time today. The biscuits are already cold!" A soft voice from deeper inside the house greets them. Pocket is frozen for a moment. It's still not too late to decline Bebop and move to the Alps. The pain in their side makes their legs move before they can start to overthink their situation and Pocket walks through the door with their head down.
"Thanks.", they whisper and take in the hallway.
A nice rug, many plants, tidy, not a single dust sprite in sight. Some pictures decorate the dressers standing in the hallway. Pictures of a woman and a man, both young and smiling at each other. Another shows the same couple, older this time and still smiling. The last shows just the woman standing in the garden together with Bebop.
'That must be Ms. Shelly then.'
"It's me, Ms. Shelly!" Bebop answers the voice and walks deeper into the house. "Something came up and I had to stay out a bit longer, but don't worry 'bout it! I also brought a visitor!". Bebop stops at a doorway leading to the main living room and begs Pocket to come closer. Walking closer to Bebop and peeking into the living room, Pocket sees Ms. Shelly sitting on a couch chair with knitting needles in her hands.
She smiles warmly up at them and sets down the needles onto the small table next to her.
"A visitor? My, my, it's nice to meet you, my dear."
"It's nice to meet you too, ma'am. I-I'm Pocket. I hope I'm not intruding."
"Oh, don't you worry, dear. I always love to have visitors over at the junkyard. Please sit and enjoy some of the hazelnut biscuits Bebop made this morning. They are extraordinary! You really outdone yourself, Bebop, thank you." Ms. Shelly's smile brightens even more as she looks at Bebop. Just like a proud mother would do.
"I would like to, but... I have to use your bathroom first...", Pocket clears their throat and looks down the hallway, hoping to spot the bathroom.
"It's down the hall to the left," Bebop points towards the door. "I'll make us all some tea while you wash up."
"Yeah, thanks.", Pocket nods and heads towards the door Bebop pointed them to. 'Just a few days. Just a few days.' loops in their mind as they walk into the bathroom and turn on the light. The bathroom is as equally tidy as the junkyard, the hallway, and the living room.
Pocket gently puts down their case, not wanting to disturb the souls inside more than they already did during the Ritual. Then they start taking off their coat and have to bite back a groan or two. Pocket is exhausted. Their arms feel sluggish and any kind of movement makes their wound sting and burn. The scarf around their neck gets gently folded and placed onto the sink. Taking off the glove on their left hand reveals the infection spread again during the day.
Pocket flexes their left hand and feels a bit of relieve in their chest when they can still feel all the fingers. Ever since the assassination, Pocket has used the case increasingly often. The more they hide in it, the more it eats away at their flesh. They lost feeling in their forearm a long time ago and now the affliction has been spreading. Concerningly fast too. At this rate it will fully take over their hand in no time and possibly spread further up their biceps, towards their neck and chest.
Pocket shakes their head to rid themselves of such thoughts and begins to slowly peel away their vest and the white shirt underneath. It hurts. They have to stop after every small movement to catch their breath before moving again.
Once their upper body is free from clothing, they lean onto the sink and take a closer look at themselves in the mirror. Their hair is a mess; a purple bruise around their eye is beginning to form from the nasty left hook they ate from Lash. That bastard even laughed after seeing blood seep out of Pocket's nose because of the punch. Their chest doesn't look pretty either. Too many bruises, wounds, and cuts cover them. Pocket's eyes stop at the gun shot scar that almost took their life on their 18th birthday. They were just on their way home after meeting up with Mina when the assassin attacked them in an alleyway. They laid on the streets, bleeding out and had to crawl towards safety before their hired killer realized they were still alive. They were lucky Mo and Krill were around the area and found them.
The bathroom door opening snaps Pocket out of those dark memories, and they see Bebop walking into the bathroom with a pile of clothes and a med kit in his hand.
"Hey, mate. Sorry for just walking in, but I was knocking and you weren't answering.”, Bebop closes the door behind him and holds out the items. Pocket was so deep in their thoughts, they didn't hear him knocking? They cross their arms over their chest in hopes to hide at least some of the bruises from Bebop.
"Sorry, I was just... thinking about something and didn't hear you.", Pocket looks at the clothes Bebop is still holding out and debates whether to take them. Sure, they don't have clean clothes at the moment, but it wouldn't be the first time they wore the same outfit for multiple days — sometimes weeks even. Pocket is about to decline Bebop as they realize they couldn't sit at the same table as Ms. Shelly and Bebop with torn and bloody clothes. Reluctantly, they reach out and take the clothes from Bebop hands.
This entire time, Bebop is silently staring down at Pocket, and Pocket starts to feel self-conscious. It's been a few years since someone saw them without clothes and Pocket doesn't know how to act without making it more awkward.
"...I'll just clean up and join you in a minute.", Pocket clears their throat again and eyes the med kit.
"Let me help.", Bebop breaks his silence and puts the med kit onto the sink, opening it.
"What? You mustn't! I can take care of my wounds myself.", Pocket argues and clutches the clean clothes closer to their body.
"Please, Pocket, I insist. You got beaten bloody today and look like you're a minute from collapsing on my bathroom floor.", Bebop gestures Pocket to wait and walks out the room to retrieve a chair for them to sit on. Once he's back, Bebop pushes Pocket into it with ease, and they are taken aback for a moment by his strength.
Bebop kneels in front of Pocket while taking the med kit from the sink and pulls out a roll of gauze and saline solution. He looks up at them, trying to gauge their willingness to be touched by him. When they don't react, he puts his hands over their left forearm and gently pulls it away from the clothes Pocket still desperately clutches to. He inspects the affliction eating away at their arm for just a moment before deeming it not worth his time for now.
Bebop takes a washcloth and pours the solution onto it. Pocket's face grows warmer as Bebop starts to slowly and gently clean off all the grime and dried blood on their skin. He wipes the wound on Pocket's side, and they must bite their lip to not verbally react to how much it burns them. After a second, they start to taste blood and realize their lip must've been busted before drying up the cut and they now bit it open again. Pocket sighs and licks the blood off their lip.
In the meantime, Bebop finished cleaning Pocket's wounds and has now started to bandage up every cut and bruise. He carefully wraps the gauze around their waist, making sure it's fully covered and secure. Satisfied with his work, he nods to himself and stands up.
"Well, that'll be all!", he cheers happily and puts the remaining gauze and saline back into the med kit. "The tea should be finished by now. Join us whenever you're– oh.". He looks at Pocket's lips and how fresh blood is still slightly dripping out of it. Bebop takes the washcloth into his hands again and starts to dab Pocket's lips until the bleeding stops. Their face grows even warmer as Pocket desperately wishes for the ground to swallow them whole. Bebop seems to not notice the awkwardness radiating from Pocket, because he wordlessly pulls his hand away and nods again.
Bebop hands Pocket the clothes he brought back and opens the bathroom door to leave. "I'll be waiting for ya, Pocket. I'm sure Ms. Shelly can't wait to talk to you.". With that he steps out of the room and closes the door behind him, leaving Pocket alone with their thoughts again.
Pocket buries their face in their hands and groans.
'Only for a few days and I'm gone.'