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In the backstreets of this empty ghost city, a loud crash is heard echoing through the still, thin air. After that, hooting and hollering, the bustle of a group leaping and climbing out a car, undeniably young and free. Goading each other on, laughing at each other. Then, screaming, more laughter, a fire slowly roaring.
Five very very quaint minutes later, all five of them are being made to kneel in a line and DON'T speak unless spoken to. Judge and Hookline are here, and they're all across the street from the incident site. Judge is standing in front of them, almost a living brick wall of shoulder pads, horns, and muscle. Leaning against his huge shoulder is a hammer almost his volume and twice his height, something closer to an entire streetlight lamp than a carryable weapon. His arms are crossed, tucked forearms that are incredibly thick, scarred, and gloved. He's staring down these young punks with a sliver of red, glowing eyes.
"Driving without a license. Reckless endangerement," he's listing with a dark, heavy voice. "Public nuisance. Destruction of public property. Vandalism. Driving under the influence."
"It was just coffee-" The first one, Cole, whispers under his breath.
"Speak up, boy!" Judge's voice thunders at them, and they all flinch like plastic bags in the wind. Savo and Kody, the second and third, pinch their faces together in an attempt not to crack up. "Tell me how Kody's performance with a skateboard alone, made him the most suitable member to operate a vehicle. Whilst underage. And caffeinated."
"Y'know, if he had parallel parked correctly," Hookline says, with his back turned to them. "I would have let you guys off with a warning."
He's looking across the street, at the husk of a car. It's upside down, laying gently against the crushed in ribs of an electric box. The entire thing is black with soot, still stuttering sparks, a solid pillar of smoke climbing idyllically into the air. It's a mess. It's Shakespearen.
"It's not funny, Hookline."
Hookline turns around to them, and the expression on his face makes the kneeled ones clench up with stifled laughter. He looks at Swift, the fourth one, who upon meeting eyes with him, coughs the remainder of her laughter out and clears her throat.
"But, let's not be deluded here," Hookline says softly, husky voice dropping as cold as steel. "You guys are just bad at driving. You all could have died."
At this, Cassie, the fifth one, shoots her head up and opens her mouth. Swift and Cole grab her shoulders on either side, intent on preventing her from entering prison (something dearly overdue). At this, both Hookline and Judge shoot her a millisecond glare, one gaze akin to the fire of hell, power divine punishment, and the other the sleek, graceful coldness of death and gunmetal.
Cassie wilts like a leaf. her head hangs low, a thoroughly snuffed fire. Kody and Savo are about near tears with just pursed lips away from bursting out with laughter. Savo pushes Kody's shoulder. Seeing this, Judge sighs, putting his face into his hand.
"Do you guys think that since we're in this situation, the law suddenly doesn't apply to you? You think you can just act like monkeys and do whatever you want?" By now, the laughter had been utterly wrung out of the five of them. They wince back like they are going to die, stomachs plummeting, eyes either closing or widening. "If you think everything is all fun and games here, I could just throw you lot into the corruption right here and now. Does that sound fun?"
The five of them shake their heads profusely. Kody is visibly trembling. Seeing this just felt wrong.
"Alright, fun police." Hookline steps in, putting a hand on his arm. "Enough. They've got the memo."
Judge steps back, away from his touch, and Sterling notices everything. He always does. The scrunch of his inky, shadowed face, red eyes full of hatred like beams narrowing, the way he repelled his touch immediately like he had been burnt. He looks like he could kill him if he wanted to. He looks like he really does hate him. Nevertheless, he doesn't say anything, and allows Hookline sit in front of the sorely disenfranchised group, criss crossed legs. They all look to him with hope.
"Alright. I'm right here," he says. "You probably knew how much of a bad idea it was to let a caffeinated minor drive you all into an electric box, right? So make your case in two hundred words or less— Why the hell would you do that?"
Like a trance is broken on the five of them, they scramble into a cacophonous crowd of pleading.
"There was a car with keys still inside and me and Swift were gonna practice the cars at skyline circuit-" Cole blubbers out at one go, Swift nodding along. "Cuz she wanted to win the race at skyline but I said its not a race and-"
"Cole, stop, he said there's a two hundred word limit!" Swift cries, reaching over Cassie to slap his shoulder. Cassie has this gaunt, manic stare on her, which is normal. Hookline thinks. That does sound like Swift, yes. And of course, Cole, the party animal, he wouldn't turn down a bit of fun, would he?
Cole's look darts to her before drifting, as she shushed him. "Sorry. This is new to me. I've never reached the word limit before on like, any essay, ever. Aheheheh. I mean- What?" He's definitely caffeine crashing.
"SAVO LET ME DO IT!" Kody wails in his scratchy, cracking teen boy voice. That chud, probably a professional at staving blame off and playing tantrum. But if Hookline could guess, Savo likely did. Encouraged him, even.
Savo shoves him. He falls over, rolling and keening like a kicked dog. Upon Judge's hard stare, he uprights himself immediately.
"No, man! No! This kid, I swear-" Savo turns to Hookline, just nodding along and enjoying the chaos. "It was Cole, he gave him coffee, the Vietnamese kind, and he just- he went mad and leapt behind the wheel!"
It's probably not Vietnamese coffee, Hookline thinks, every single coffee brand he's ever seen sliding by his head. Probably dark chocolate mocha with every topping in existence. Two shots of espresso. If he had to guess.
"Yeah but Savo gave him the car keys," Cole shoots. Hookline thinks that actually, it was Cassie who found the car keys. "And what the hell do you mean? I've never been to Vietnam before! But I went to Indonesia once."
That is true. Cole's bag has one of those tacky tourist shop "I LOVE INDONESIA" keychains in that one particular, annoying font. Why does he even have that?
"I wanted Kody to run that rich bastard over." Cassie's hard voice and manic stare break over the group. Everyone snickers and elbow each other. Yeah, that sounds about right. "And by the way, for your information, WE MEANT TO CRASH INTO THAT-"
"SHHHHHH!!!!"
And Cassie should have snagged the keys from... Builderman? Dr Mick? Bling Bling's out of the question. Must be Builderman.
"You all are banned from operating any vehicle, ever." Judge's voice makes them all jump and go back to their spots. Hookline nearly forgot he was there. "That includes skateboards. Also, no going outside on breaks with no supervision. And no caffeine. This includes coffee, energy drinks, tea-"
Everyone rises up, opening their mouths in indignation, but another glare from Judge kills them all in one shot, easily.
Hookline gets up and brushes his suit off. He's gathered all the intel he needs to glean the truth. "That's a bit too severe, no?"
"Don't argue with me, Hookline." Judge just sounds tired of his shit, low and final. That's nostalgic. That's really, really nostalgic. "This has nothing to do with you."
All five of their eyes are on Hookline, full of secret hope, as he stands before Judge's imposing, solid figure and says, "Leave the skateboards and coffee alone, keep the vehicle ban. And I'll supervise them on breaks. How does that sound?"
"You're talking with an authority you don't have," he seethes hollowly, fire pouring out his eyes, and Sterling notices the hand that graces the handle of his hammer, behind him. Of course he notices. "Who bears the responsibility if they decide to break the rules on my watch? If they get hurt, or hurt other people? Me. Not you."
Judge leans down to get close to Hookline, his crimson eyes searing behind the bucket, burning him to the bone. Sterling isn't fazed in the slightest, keeping his airy coolness. How could he? "Don't be deluded. Let. Me. Do my job."
"You're not taking Kody's skateboard or Cole's coffee. They've to find a way to survive this, don't they? Like how we all do." Hookline crosses his arms and notices Cole's pursed smile from his peripheral. "And by the way.. I'll be taking that responsibility if you hate it so much. I'll take care of them. You have a problem, you throw them to me."
A turn of events, for sure. The five of them, kneeled there, look between each other with barely disguised glee. Judge scoffs.
"Alright, Hookline." Poison laces his every syllable as he grabs his huge hammer, slinging it through the air for it to drop onto his wide shoulders. Kody winces back, but Sterling, in full hammer range, doesn't even blink. "If they so much as step an inch out of line, I'll just dish the punishment to you instead. How's that?"
"Are you challenging me, Judge?" A smile breaks on Sterling's face like a sun, a rare sight for the cold, serious Hookline. He looks to the five kneeled as if entrusting his fate to them. Bold move. "Alright."
"Don't come crying to me when they eventually land on the wrong side of the law... Again." Judge trudges off, and shoves into Hookline's shoulder as he does so. Sterling watches him go off. He's so much angrier now than in the past. When he gets out of earshot, joining the others near the camp, the group explode from their kneel.
"AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" Swift grabs Hookline's arm, wailing. He gently but firmly puts her away. "I thought he was going to kill us!!!"
"What's his problem?!" Cassie barks like a dog, growling, pacing around. She then pushes Swift over, for the love of the game. "If I could take that hammer and knock his ass into space, I would. WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?!"
"That brought me back to my college days," Cole says with dried, abysmal eyes. Swift lunges back for Cassie. "Wow. He's just like my econs teacher, but I can't prove it."
"Why is he still treating us like we're kids?!" Savo complains. "No offense, Kody- GET OFF ME. HEY!"
"Alright. Enough. Settle." The rowdy group of young adults (and some child, chewing on Savo's hat) calm down and listen. "Let me get this straight."
Half of them open their mouths, paragraphs already in their young lying throats. Hookline holds a hand up.
"Builderman dropped car keys after one of the scavenging expeditions, and Cassie happened to pick it up," he says, and all the words in their mouths leave with wide eyes. "Swift, you wanted to race her and Cole opted to join because he's, well. Cole. Savo had to come, cuz who could resist a joyride, and brought Kody. You took a car from the carpark over there, and then Savo goaded Kody into driving, thinking it would be exciting. Kody, you then stole Cole's coffee, which is dark chocolate mocha and like, caramel, maple syrup, white chocolate and fudge drizzled. If I remember correctly. And you chugged before taking the back alleys here. Oh, and Cassie made you aim for Bling Bling, which caused you to swerve, skirt a curb and crash. Am I right?"
The group is rendered speechless. Swift has her eyes in her hand. Cassie opens with, "Well...! I...! Fine, yeah." Savo bursts out, "How the hell did you know??"
"I just do," Hookline answers immediately, and if there's one thing you need to know about him, it's that it's true. He just knows.
"If.. I might make a correction?" Cole raises his hand. "I switched to decaf. Kody was just acting crazy."
Everyone's heads crack towards the child in question. Kody crosses his arms and pouts, kicking his feet. "Not true."
"And he wasn't even caffeinated, alright." Hookline takes his sunglasses off and puts his face in his hands. Maybe he doesn't "just know". Yes, no wonder Cole is experiencing caffeine crash right now, despite drinking so much. It all adds up, doesn't it? Savo begins cackling. "You guys make me sick. I'm sick to the bone."
"Don't die!"
"Hey, dude, Hook, my man." Savo claps Hookline's shoulder and he takes his hand off, not unkindly. "Thanks for having our back. Seriously. Judge is crazy!"
"No kidding."
"I'm even crazier." That was Cassie. Swift snickers and elbows her.
"He's not crazy for nothing!!" Hookline yells at them and his volume hits them like the cold lash of steel, sound bouncing off the brick alleyway walls. They all immediately shape up, fix their posture whilst they're at it. "You let a minor drive a car! Are you all stupid?"
They fidget. Shuffle around.
"You are NOT to pull these kinds of stunts anymore, do you understand? You're lucky to be alive after crawling out of that!" Hookline points at the mess. "If you guys are hurt, how do you think we'd tell your families? How would we carry you on top of our supplies and casualties when we need to run? We already have so much to think about, trying to keep you all alive, and you want to add to it?"
Hookline watches, as he always does. Swift is pursing her lips, frowning guiltily. Cassie has her arms crossed, but even she has nothing to say. There's something on Kody's expression, but Hookline can't tell yet, what it is. He's uncomfortable. Savo grabs Kody's shoulder, in comfort.
"We care," Sterling- No, Hookline says shortly. "From now on, you will not touch a car outside of Skyline circuit and you will NOT crash."
The group whine, growl and concede. They nod and say, "Yes, sir." with diffusing tension, milling around. Hookline nods. "See you all back at camp. Don't be dumb."
"What about Judge? Does he have to supervise us whenever we go outside?" Swift asks, and she thinks over her words. "Um... Is he seriously that mad at us?"
At this, Hookline scoffs. He thinks that Swift, of the five of them, enjoys making her teachers, parents and everyone proud, so Judge's sentence- No, his anger probably shook her up. "Don't bother about proving yourselves to him," he says. "If he finds trouble with you, come to me. And I trust that he won't because you will all be rational, law abiding citizens. Understand?"
"Do you hate Judge?" Kody pipes up.
"Nah." The answer just slips out. Sterling clears his throat and puts the sunglasses back on. "Now go. Get out of my sight."
They all move to leave. Cole says, "You're the best, Captain Hook!" and raises his coffee to him. Hookline nods. Savo flashes the rock on hand at him, and then the thumb heart, grinning. Hookline nods. Swift and Kody wave, with Swift saying, "Thanks, Hookline! We'll see you for training." Hookline nods. Cassie nods back at him before leaving with them. Their banter begins again, Cole sipping, Savo cracking jokes, Cassie yelling about whatever. Hookline watches their energy with a reserved, oddly protective spirit. What a tough place to spend their early twenties. He can't imagine what it's like for Kody, just 15, so he files that odd expression he saw away in a folder in his head. Judge thinks his job is to keep them alive. To Sterling, it's about protecting them, in a world that wants to leech it out of their naive eyes and heads. Just a bunch of dumb kids, trying their best.
Then, Hookline thinks back to that decaf detail with a vague disgust at himself. It's so small and minute that it nags at him day and night like a broken nail or a fly. He was wrong. The evidence was there and he was wrong. He can't stand being mistaken. Being him, taking his job and exisiting in this situation requires precision. It leaves no room for leeway, no time for slip ups or any sloppy work. Hookline needs to be factual, he needs to be accurate, to be correct. Too high, he cracks his ankles and thighs open on landing, and too low, he falls drowning into the void. To Sterling, there is just no way he can afford it.
"And he just listed down everything that happened, like- like he was there for all of it!!" So now the younger survivors are sitting around a fire, later that night, eating from a huge pot full of old maggi noodles they pulled out of rubble. Tom is drawing by the warm, crackling fire, half focused on what Cole is saying between gulps of his coffee. Tory and Astro, unmasked (detail?) sit around. Every now and then, Cassie and Kody run by yelling, with her in hot pursuit and Kody kick flipping off a railing.
"Wow.." Tory says, in his passive, still amused voice. "That's crazy."
"Maybe he's stalking us!!" Kody yells, and screams as he's intercepted by Cassie, who throws her arms around him and lifts him. His voice pierces the silent, cool air of the night. "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! STOPPPP!!! TIME OUT TIME OUT TIME OUT! NOT FAIRRRR!!!"
"Yeah! YEAH! GET HIM!" Cole and Astro cheer. "Oh- Oh god. Cassie. Stop. He's dead."
"That is exactly right. Maybe he is." Savo nods profusely. He always vehemently agrees when it's Kody, who says something stupid. Something about not making him feel alone. His jacket is off and Tom is drawing on his arm with sharpie. He's leaning against the huge concrete bricks that they use as makeshift chairs and backrests, his hair down. "Oooh, is that like, a dragon? That's so sick, dude. You're amazing at this."
"I told you guys that it's no use lying to him. He just knows!" Swift says, combing her hair. Her things are all around her just as everyone else's are, a shared homely space. "The other day Noob gave me trail mix and he walked by and said, oh, there's nuts in that (workshop this), don't eat that. LIKE WHAT??? How'd he know?!"
"And he even knows my coffee order, like- down to the toppings. It's uncanny!!"
Cassie walks over, slinging Kody over her shoulder. He drags his skateboard behind them, the sound scraping off the concrete floor. "You told him, numbnut."
"What? Oh, yeah."
Tory laughs. Kody, released by Cassie, runs up to Tom and shakes his shoulder profusely, to his overwhelmed confusion. "Hey, hey, Tom, do me next! Do me next!"
"Oi, leave him alone. You're bothering him." Savo pushes Kody away. Scattered all around Tom are markers, paintbrushes, spray cans from his pack. "Hey, anyone notice that he was lowkey beefing with Judge?"
Swift, Cole and Cassie immediately choke on their words and their mouthfuls of water or noodles. Cassie recovers first to snarl, "Everyone is, that rat hammer wielding bastard."
"He's not that bad," Astro says.
"Yeah, feels like my parents are divorcing all over again. Judge looks so... so bitter and sad when he talks to him, too."
"No but, guys, I heard from Dr Mick that they-" Swift lowers to a whisper and everyone leans in. "Used to be partners. I mean like, work partners."
"Oh," Savo says. "WORK partners. Right. Yeah- I mean, no, its fine, I just didn't expect that it'd be work-" He looks to Tom and back, who is nodding erratically. "Yeah. See."
"So what happened then?" Tory asks.
"But remember what Kody asked him?" Cassie says. "If he hated that guy, and he said no."
Swift gasps, and her hand flies to grasp Cole's shirt. Mid bite and swallowing, he sputters, "What? What? What is it, Swift, my visionary friend? What?"
"Maybe they miss each other. They just need a reason to talk again," she says, speeding through her words. "And work out their differences. And maybe they'd stop being so angry all the time, right? Cole?"
"I know." He immediately jumps on. "Yes. We'll throw a party so they're both relaxed and, and having fun. Then we'll push them together! Cass, stop shaking your head."
"You just wanna throw a party." Savo inclines his head over the concrete, getting comfortable. "Why would Judge go to a party? Why would anyone invite him to a party? He'd just ruin everything like he always does."
"I'll convince him."
Everyone's heads crack to Astro. Sitting by Cole, looking around at this sudden attention. "What?"
Cole's parties are always on another level. It always takes place before preparations for the next run, when they have to grab everything and move out. They find a place with electricity, preferably one that's at least open space, and wire things together. Boomboxes, mood lighting, the works. Tory and Astro climb the roofs and ceilings to decorate. They take direction from Tom (however best he can mime it), whilst he paints the walls with fluorescent spray. They save all their sweet drinks and snacks to finish in one night, and make up card games. Sometimes, Bacon even turns it into an outdoor grill, but he never lets anyone else grill. They're still negotiating how to bring a grill to the location. They also try to include some form of card game, preferably blackjack, in the hopes that Odds joins them, instead of doing whatever else they do alone. Blackjack is really the only game that's easy to learn. The last time Cassie and Swift tried competing, they nearly collapsed the building. Whilst scavenging, someone even managed to find alcohol in an old convenience store. Shitty soju by the bottle, some 6 packs. In the midst of planning, they realised they had to kick Kody out the party OR throw the alcohol away. Thus, in a bid to not leave him out, Savo promised to keep an eye on him. "Okay, fine," he had said. "The car thing was- I thought I could stop him before he did anything bad... and then he took the coffee. But I won't play around with the alcohol, alright? I care about the kid."
Cassie was there when he said this, and she disdainfully said, in her usual sarcastic loudmouth manner, "That's a real surprise." To this, Savo could only reply by meeting her eyes, oddly devoid of any sense of joking.
By 6pm, they set something up, and play music. It's in a construction site, so the place is airy, a high ceiling held up by unfinished, dusty cement columns, rebar like bare rusted ribs poking out. Cole set up his college laptop on the husk of some crane cockpit. Astro has to leave to convince Judge, so Tory and Tom are left, leaving their doodles all over the walls and floor. Drawing their friends, doodling mustaches on them. Tory once asked Tom, "How do you bear leaving all your artworks everywhere when they're so good?" And Tom said (wrote down for Tory), that this nomadic pack of survivors come and go. They're transcient, always running from the corruption, never in one place. Art stays. Art says that someone was here once, in a world that forces them to always leave. To him, art is the roots that make home. So they look at their works together with Cole at the makeshift DJ booth, marvelling, sipping on cola. They spend the rest of the evening cutting and colouring little party hats, for fun. A friend used to do this at every party, Cole reminisces fondly, also a noob, and it would be purple with these stars.
Swift was tasked to convince Hookline to come to the party. Hookline's not a party guy by any mile, but a black coffee and work type of guy. Maybe after hour drinks, like, cigar ash and Jack Daniel's, if he even does that stuff. Nevertheless, if anyone could convince him, it'd be Swift. That day was a leg day, so Hookline was scheduled to make Swift run the track and give her tips. Cassie comes along because, she always does. As Swift lays in the shade with Hookline, sipping isotonic, with him writing something in his notepad (Like he's running out of time), she asks, "Did you ever go to parties like us when you were younger?"
"Back then." Upon hearing her, every memory Hookline has ever lived hyperblinked through the back of his eyelids in a second. But he's not the type to reminisce--- it's painful. "Work catches up eventually. Life does."
"You don't miss it?"
He huffs out a wry laugh, hopefully wry enough to convince himself. "No."
Swift opens her mouth but Cassie cuts her off with a, "We're throwing a party and Judge is coming, you in?" Swift smacks her shoulder. "WHAT?!!!???"
Hookline smiles at them. Cassie can't be subtle for the life of her. Alright, so they want him and Judge to reconcile. "Judge won't come."
"But he will!" Swift says like it's a promise, whilst Cassie says like it's a threat. "C'mon, Hookline. Pleaaase?"
"Alright, you've convinced me." All she needs to do is say please. He snaps the notepad shut with a flick of his hand. Honestly, he's only going to people watch. "Tonight?"
So before the party, Swift insisted on dolling Hookline up, but the only thing he really has in his closet is work fits. Dress shirt and pants, copy and paste. Cassie was impatient so she left for the party. Now in Hookline's room (?!), Swift has his closet ripped open, pulling clothes upon clothes off hangars and throwing it over her shoulder onto his bed. He's left, behind her, sifting through, trying not to drown in memory. She's the only one allowed to do this.
"You're gonna be the best dressed at the party, and I'm gonna make sure." It's because Cole bet she couldn't. She has her hair into pigtails, wearing a cropped jacket, her party outfit. "You have to mog everyone. Even Judge. Especially Judge."
"I'm not even gonna ask what that word means."
She pulls an intricate suit out, white blazer with a black blouse, red tie. The maroon red is silvery and soft to the touch, the cream white immaculately pure. "Woahhhhhh! This is so pretty! What was this for?"
Hookline looks and ahhhs with recognition. "That. Ballroom stuff. 2005. Don't touch that."
"What the-?" Swift pulls a clown outfit out of his closet. "Ooooh, is it a spy agent disguise?"
"No."
"Oh." Faced with the impossibly ambiguous reality of this implication, she throws it over her shoulder. It lands all over Hookline, covering his head. "A bandana!"
She spins around, and hes still pulling it off his face. "I know what to do. You'll feel young as I am."
She gathers a bunch of different articles from different hangars almost randomly, threw it onto him and told him to change. There's a red bandana around his head, the black blouse, this snazzy belt he didnt even know he had. She's dressing a fourty, fifty odd man? He looked at himself in the mirror, immediately turned away and said, "Hell naw..."
Swift, like Cassie, is not someone easy to say no to. She doubled down, insisted he looked "objectively good" (Why is he even here, dressing up like he's 20?) and shoved him out the door. Of course, Hookline let her. After all, she's the only one who could do this to him. He'll never really admit it or dare to think it, but Swift reminds him of himself when he was younger. Before everything.
(break, scene plannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. the entire story is in HOOKLINE'S pov so i hesitate to go deep into judge's development. but know that the below dialogue is crucial because its why judge did what he did at the party. its also a rewrite of the judge astro canon interactionj
judge: (wants to say of course not, who do you think i am, but its astro.) sorry, astro. I cant.
astro: come on, judge! let loose a little! you must have off days, right? Everyone does.
judge: you cant sleep if you work a job like mine. Something bad could happen at any time, it doesnt discriminate. thats what im here for. (quote hookline: its only when nothing happens when something does.)
astro: but everyone needs sleep. and relaxation. and fun times, and snacks and loud music and dancing and card games! Doesn't it sound great? (reminds judge of the type of friend sterling was when they were in their mid 20s, not that far away from astro's age. I like to think sterling used to be really daredevil and mischievous, whilst locke was more goody two shoes coded? and thats how they evolved into what they are now)
judge: i- i do but- some people just cant afford it. ive to keep you and everyone else safe, astro, so... i really cant make it. don't expect me.
astro: I know. Helperbot can take over! Helperbot doesnt even need to sleep. Just electricity!
Judge: it'd be ripped to shreds if something dangerous came.
astro: youll be close to everyone who needs protecting. and... you're not exactly a robot or anything, sooooo..
judge: I appreciate you asking me, i really do, but... i cant.
astro: come on. just one night. i know you secretly wanna relax underneath your cold hard shell. there'll even be alcohol!!!
judge: (tired eyes) ... is Kody there?
astro: .... No.
judge: (deep sigh) Helperbot, take over for me. (is it even in this scene? damn)
astro: So you're coming?! YAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!
judge: yes, astro. ill attend the party. do you need me to walk you there?
astro: I can fly- Actually, sure! (mentally panicking and texting cole that THERES A MINOR AT THE PARTY WITH ALCOHOL SOMEONE KICK KODY OUT *NOW*)
(break. im so sad. i know the party scene gotta cook.)
So when Swift and Hookline arrive, everyone is sitting around the crane, laughing, chatting merrily. The sun has set so the mood lighting is kicking in. They see them and yell out their names, hey, look who it is, it's Swift, and Hookline is here, he looks great, he looks ten times younger! Hookline doesn't want to know how old they think he actually is. He sat with them and they showed him, the mood lighting is actually just an industrial spotlight that they found around the construction site with stuff placed over it. The red is the back of Cole's jacket, the orange is Kody's cone. Then they hold him up to the huge face pouring impossibly strong white light, now glowing impeccable orange through scratched plastic, bathing everyone in warmth. Kody is beaming, absolutely thrilled to be here. Purple is some coloured plastic film they found, by far the most vibrant, and blue is a piece of glass Tom painted. They also dedicated weeks of scavenging through old houses to find any mirrors they could, to shatter them and collect the pieces, all to glue the pieces to this relatively small paper mache ball. When they point colours at it, it lights up the space, all moving beams so solid you could grab light out the air, watch it drift through your fingertips and burn the edges with vibrant saturation. Hookline watches it in his own hands, and beside him, Swift does it too. Her smaller hands, calloused with years of resilience, chipped painted nails, bracelets. At this stage, Hookline has no idea Judge is on his way.
So Hookline sips cola that is too sweet for him and sits at the side, people watching. He takes everything in, what they're like in a group setting, how they look relaxed, straying away to start card games or rip into the food. Swift leaves him to join Cole and Savo, and they teach Noob the rules of blackjack, periodically exploding in excitement or disappointment. Tory is with Tom in the very corner behind the light, sharing snacks in the darkness, far from the blasting music. Hookline is taking it upon himself to sit in full view of the alcohol, make sure no one who shouldn't be touching it, does not. Odds is halfway through the six pack of crappy beer and losing every round of blackjack. And he doesn't know when it happens, but in this atmosphere, Hookline starts to breathe easy. He can't remember the last time he was ever in a place like this, feeling like he belonged. It was all so long ago he couldn't remember. It's actually solacing, to know that all this is right here, everything he has ever needed to protect is all around him, close by and flourishing. His guard must've sunken impossibly low, because he suddenly realises, something in him just can't forget that Locke isn't here, and it is the only thing that's missing.
So, later in the night, things get messy. Cole, at the DJ booth, receives a harrowing text from Astro, and he reads it out to Savo, Cassie and Swift.
> ITGIBNK THAT JUDGE IS SUSSING OUT THAT JODYS HERE
> AND I MIGHT HAVE TOLD HIM THWREAS ALXOHOL
> HES COMING BUT I THINK HE SUSOPECTS IOT
> YIOU NEED TO KCIKC KODYU OUT BEFORE HE COMES
> we're wakjubg gere GYURRTY GURYRYHHHURYRRYYY
"What is wak jubghh? Walking??" Savo squints at the screen, taking off his star shutter shades to peer. "Your phone screen is so cracked."
"Hey....."
"That was sent at 1 and its 1:30." Swift checks her watch. "Shit.. Okay. I know what to do. Savo, Cassie, you find Kody and get him out of here. I'll go with Cole and hide the alcohol!"
Everyone hastily agrees. Swift takes Cole's hand to run off in the direction of the snacks, but stops by the floodlight to stoop below. "Psstt... Tory! Can you help us scout the area for Judge and Astro? If you see them, tell us as soon as possible!!"
Tory leaps up, ever the lightfooted ninja, eager to help. "What's wrong? I mean, yes! Yes, Swift, but is everything okay?"
"Go." Swift squeezes his shoulders before running off. Cole is pulled along once again like a horse, and he can only throw a, "Sorry, Tom-!" over his shoulder. Tom, sitting behind the light in the darkness, gathers his legs up to his chest, watching Tory run off in the other direction, heading down a staircase. At this hour, the snacks table has been absolutely ravaged, full of empty wrappers, dropped chips, a bite taken out the tablecloth, somehow. That was Kody. Swift and Cole dive for the empty bottles, the stray cans, but there's still some spillage and it's soaking the cloth, will Judge know? Swift is grabbing everything and throwing it off a ledge like it's a sport. Cole shoots up with just one bottle left, opened but relatively full.
"Just one left, we can hide it in some place he won't find, a toilet maybe," he rushes out. "At this rate, there'll be nothing left for him to find. But who-?"
Just a few metres away at the blackjack, Odds slumps over and flops onto the card pile. A can rolls out their hand as Noob squeaks in fear, jumps and grabs their shoulders. "Odds?! Are you okay??? I'm sorry if I'm bad-"
"OH MY GOD." Cole clutches his hair and shrieks. "JUDGE IS GONNA KNOW."
"You won't perish on me, ODDS." Swift dives for them. She grabs their shoulders, but they're sluggish and slow, eyelids drooping and falling shut, slurring their speech. "Cole, don't just stand there! We have to hide them! Grab the legs! The ANKLES!"
Running past this scene is Kody, chased by Savo and Cassie. He's an orange blur, made of hazard tape drifting in the whirlwind of his speed. Cassie leaps for him, limbs full splayed out like a lizard with claws, but with a throat piercing scream he heelturns magnificently, only permissed by his thin bones and his aerodynamics. She crashes into the snack table, which is really just a piece of spare plywood held up on some cement and a stick. The collapse is heard throughout the party, a cacophony of wood falling and a torrent of plastic crinkling. Music is blasting but the queue ended so it shuffled to "We didn't start the fire" on the highest volume.
"KODY!!!" Savo yells, hot on his heels. "You're gonna get Hookline in trouble if you don't STOP!"
"I don't want to leave! You guys never let me stay up anyway!" He yells back, making rounds around the floodlight. Tom is no longer hiding there. Kody jukes Savo out but shrieks as he shoves the floodlight out of the way, letting it down on the ground with a metal crash. The huge area of purple light that it shone is now pointing upwards instead of at the ground, marooning everyone in dimness. Cassie rips herself out of the crash site, plunged into darkness, and shakes herself of crumbs and trash like a dog. She takes a moment, breathing heavily, running her hand through her messy hair. When she looks up, she finds that she's in the dim shadow of Hookline, just a silhouette against the purple light that bathes the open air and high ceiling, with his hands in his pockets.
"Hey," she growls out, standing up with a hand offered from him. "So, life, huh?"
"Life," he agrees, looking all around them with deep amusement in his eyes. He's smiling, smiling so widely that Cassie realises in this dimness that he has dimples. The scene reflects in Sterling's sunglasses as he puts them onto his head, granting her an even rarer sight of his big, crinkled silvery eyes, glinting in the purple swimming reflections of pure, unbridled chaos.
Tory, apparently having vaulted up from a ledge, wants to run for Swift, but stops. Nothing is as he left it. The cards are in a mess, the snack table has been dismantled, the floodlight is overturned and nobody can see for much. Cole and Swift have dragged Odds to prop them against a backrest, and Cole is putting disguise glasses onto their face, the ones with the huge eyes, nose and mustache.
"SWIFT! HE'S HERE!!" He tries to yell as loudly as he can, and sees her head shoot up from across the party, but then Kody blasts past him, a tornado of immaturity and fun. Looking behind him, Savo crashes head-on into Tory, sprawling all over the ground, joints hitting concrete hardly. a pained groan is wrung out of Savo.
"Oh, shit, Savo-" Kody turns around whilst in motion, eyes wide in concern, but doesn't stop in time to crash right into Judge.
Now the real party has started. Judge is here, that same living brick wall of shoulder pads, horns, and muscle, staggering back against this spry kid. Funnily enough, there are multiple glowsticks on him. On his horns, his head, his neck and wrists.
"Careful, kid-" His figure easily trumps Kody's as he catches him and uprights him, and then his wide, fresh eyes and ears range across this mess. "Oh... Wow."
It's insane. Cole is turning the music up and shouting lyrics. WE DIDN'T START THE FIRE, IT WAS ALWAYS BURNING SINCE THE WORLD'S BEEN TURNING!!! Swift is running over, Noob is on the floor rocking back and forth. No one can see anything and there's trash everywhere. Somewhere in there, Odds slumps over onto the floor and the disguise glasses fall right off. Tom is beside them, kneeled, putting their head onto his folded jacket. Somewhere secret, Hookline watches Judge walk in with widening eyes.
Kody stumbles away from Judge, eyes wide, shrinking under him. "Oh no."
"Oh no?" Judge echoes, eyes sharpening onto him like he's caught him. "Astro. You said there was alcohol at this party, what is he doing here?"
"Um. Uhhhh I MEANT ALCOHOL LIKE RUBBING ALCOHOL!!!" He wails, breaking into a run. He runs past Swift, and before anyone knows it, he dives behind the crane DJ booth. He's gone. Judge turns back to these rapscallions, Tory, Savo, Swift and Kody, helping each other up, dusting each other off. Upon catching Judge's stare, all of them fumble at him, lose words on the spot, wave awkwardly at him.
"No, Judge, there's no alcohol," Swift starts, very obviously sweating. Everyone else agrees hastily. "It's a, uh, child friendly party!! We swear!!"
"I can't catch a goddamn break." Judge pinches his nosebridge, growling. "Listen to me right now. If I turn around and see any trace of alcohol in this party, I'm making Hookline do two thousand pushups and I'm gonna make him thank you between EVERY SINGLE ONE!"
"Me?"
The noise, the chaos, the people drain out the area immediately, or more like ache into the deep, thrumming background. Judge whips around and Hookline is standing right there. What strikes him is that he looks a little undone and loose. The black blouse unbuttoned against his collar, the friendship bracelets, sunglasses on his head to expose his vibrant, twinkling eyes. his dimples are even back, stepping out of their past together and still carrying the sheen of nostalgia. He looks so much less like the uptight, hypervigilant Hookline that their age and history has molded them into, the mantle they've took on together that is branded into their heads. and he's just looking at Judge, sipping from a can of cola, raising it to him. "Locke."
".. Sterling," Locke returns, the words leaving him entirely, only able to stare. "You look.."
"What are you wearing, man?" Sterling gets closer, obvious amusement written on his face, and reaches out to touch the glowsticks on his neck. His eyes meet his, and the contact is intoxicating. "... I didn't think you'd come."
"OH MY GOD!!!!!!" Swift grabs Savo's shirt and he's also yelling and jumping. "YAOI!!!!!!"
"Astro invited me, he wanted me to fit in and.. he had glowsticks." Locke swallows, eyes still ranging over his ex partner's body. Suddenly, his eyes sharpen and he's Judge again. "Hookline, Is there alcohol at this party? Answer me honestly."
"Relax, Locke. I was watching them." Hookline looks behind Judge, and the shocked, excited atmosphere of the kids behind him drain into sheer, clenched panic, profusely shaking their heads, mouthing NO. Well, they did make this decision voluntarily. They have to suffer this even if it's from watching him do two thousand pushups. "Yes. Loads."
Judge sighs and turns around. They vehemently deny it in unison. Suddenly, Cassie shoves through them, and in her hands is a full bottle. Swift looks up at Cole in shock as she yells, voice peaking, "If you want it so much, then CHUG IT!!"
She throws it into Judge's arms, chanting. immediately, Cole and Savo join in, then Swift, Tory, Astro, everyone. A few shove past Hookline to surround Judge, and he has to back up. For a mad second, their sound combines into one force that seemed to radiate throughout the air from the building, full of excitement and young audacity. Hookline has to wonder, will Judge get even madder? will he refuse and just hand it to someone else? His head racks itself like a processing engine overdriving, predicting from years of data that he spent with this guy, meeting him, hitting it off, hating each other, pretending they were lesser than nothing. No, he'd refuse. That's Judge, ever so serious, rigid, hardlined. That is Judge, right? It makes Sterling want to rip his hair out because for once in his completely coherent and logical world, he's questioning himself. He doesn't know.
Sterling watches him attach the mouth of the bottle to his lips in the next second and lift, inclining his head backwards so he towers over everyone else. The crowd goes wild, a blurry mass of climatic cheering, grabbing shoulders, jumping, nothing that Sterling could really hear. He just watches Locke, the absolute centre of the room, the purple reflection of the glass under his huge hand, his adam's apple bobbing back and forth, soju trailing down his chin and realises that he's always been wrong about him. For a second, Sterling is utterly stupefied. Lost in him, in Judge, in Locke, in whoever that could possibly be. The next thing he feels is something hot. For sure. His hand flies to his chest, heart hammering, suddenly alight with fire at whatever elusive things he's feeling. He can't stop staring, the alcohol sliding down his neck, the lips clamped over the bottle, utterly enraptured, wishing it was him.
In the next moment he rips the bottle from his mouth, doubling over and groaning, with everyone still screaming, snatches of, "You're the GOAT, JUDGE!!" and "This is CRAZY!!" in the air, slapping his back. Tory tries to hold him up but he's way too big. Cole grabs Astro, both of them shrieking. "A- A JUDGE CHUG?? A JUG??? IS THIS REAL?????? WHERE AM I????"
The party is in full force. Cole puts on more music, someone uprights the floodlight and actually points it at the makeshift disco ball so it bathes everyone in this messy, unpredictable radiance. The energy is multiplied tonight. Everyone is screaming lyrics, jumping up and down. Sterling approaches Locke at the back of the rave, and he's sinking onto one knee, setting what's left of the bottle onto the floor like the sword of a warrior bested, covered in blood--- a little less than a quarter left.
"Ugh." He accepts his hands without even seeing, and Sterling pulls him up right, taking the bottle with him. He's hunched over his gut before he comes up, wiping his chin, and he stumbles onto him. "I'm gonna regret this tomorrow."
"Locke, you madman. I never took you for a party animal." Sterling feels warm, with heavy forearms on his shoulders, hands grabbing his biceps for support. "Are you okay?"
Locke rests his forehead onto Sterling's shoulder, and just groans. He's so tall that he weighs heavy against him. Sterling is confounded because, don't you hate me?
"Alright, alright, you lightweight." He's is hit with a pang of nostalgia so strong it worms in his chest like fire, because it's almost like everything that happened between them never did. "Need to sit down?"
Sterling drags him up some stairs to a rooftop. The moonlight is so strong on this night that it casts a shadow onto the ground, construction materials littering the space. There are two lawn chairs by the edge that he guides Locke to, facing the forest. Cool, fresh wind blows gently from the trees, free in the dark of the night. The sky glows when it falls to meet the land at the skyline, with some parts of the ghost world still lit, cities scattered across. Only some. The music from the party below their feet is so strong that they can still hear it. Locke sinks into his lawn chair so it looks tiny compared to him, and pulls his helmet off his head. His inky silhouette, slickback hair, silvery horns come out, something rare, and once again Sterling is shocked because Judge never does that. He only does it around close friends and, well, Sterling isn't that anymore. Locke stays like that, hunched over his legs, massaging his forehead. With the last bit of alcohol left in Sterling's hand, he brings the mouth of the bottle to his, slowly, like it wasn't the alcohol he was really trying to savour.
"It's hitting," he says starkly, and Sterling huffs in amusement. "Oh, it's here."
"Why did you do it, Locke?" In the moonlight, Locke becomes an anomaly in Sterling's world of results, evidence, prediction. He's always been one. It makes Sterling mad, but endlessly captivates him. He needs to understand him, know him intimately, pin him down so he can't surprise him ever again. "You know you're a lightweight. You know what kind of example you're setting for them. You've never done this in your life, why now and here of all places? Why?"
"I have no answer for you." Locke's eyes crack open to look at him, these lidded and slightly sickly red eyes. They don't look angry. They look weak. "I don't know. It had to go either way, so I thought. Well. Chugging it wouldn't waste it. Didn't wanna disappoint the kids anyway. And... you were watching."
"What do I have to do with this equation? You're stunning me." Hookline thinks, maybe Judge is trying to one up him because he feels weak. Maybe he's trying to prove something, relive the glory days, gain the trust of the kids. What is it? Again, Sterling doesn't know.
"You never change," Locke says. How do you still know me, Hookline wonders, after so long? "You think everything is an equation even when it's not. You think everything can be collected as evidence and used to predict the future but it's- ... Sterling, no matter how much you know me... You'll never find an answer in me that can, explain everything I've done."
"But I have to. I just have to." That's just Sterling, and always has been Sterling, from the very start. His curiosity is voracious, and it wants to swallow Locke up whole, a paradox he could spend his entire life studying. He thinks that soon, he's going to find the one true rule of the universe that cannot be broken. Just something, anything at all, that won't break on him. "Why won't you just tell me? Or show me? I know there's a reason behind you. What can explain you?"
Locke blinks at him, his tired eyes. "I love you."
Sterling's heart falls like a vase all over the floor, scattering into erratic bits, getting everywhere. No, he hoped it wouldn't come to this. He's never heard of something so blatantly and audaciously untrue. It defies everything in Hookline's world of evidence, deduction, analysis. How could Locke say something like that? "No you don't, Locke,” he says, even laughing a little at the possibility, god forbid. “You hate me. You've always hated me from the start. You don't even want to be in the same room as me because- you- You're tired of me, my personality annoys you and I constantly undermine your authority. That's what. Try again."
"That's just hilarious. You're cute when you're wrong," Locke says, his deep voice gritting against his throat, pinching his nosebridge. "I don't hate you, Sterling. I never have. Every time we run from the corruption, I keep thinking about you at the front with that goddamn grappling hook, wondering, are you going to be okay? What if you crack your legs open on that hard concrete floor or, or fall into the void, and I never see you again? What's going to happen to you if I'm not there to save you? I can't lose you, you know? Not a second time."
Every word from his mouth heats Sterling up to white hot steel, and makes him want to rip his hair right out. So suddenly, ‘Locke likes Sterling and they’re gonna have a summer romance’? It's been ages since we've talked, he seethes in his head. When we fell into this place, you didn't even want to look at me. You’d leave the room when i entered. when you were forced to talk to me, i can feel the visceral hatred you have for me. For the longest time, that was Sterling’s reality---They were nothing. Less than nothing. There was no hope of reconciliation or catharsis. Just Sterling, dragging himself limping out this once friendship, clutching his wounds like a pathetic dog, bleeding with regret. This is the case that Hookline has made, evidence pinned onto a board with red thread of resignation, irrevocable cold hard truth, something Sterling could never accept. What's this now? You want to say you love me, get cozy with me, try and rip me out of the hell that we both (you) (and I) built me? What a goddamn joke. You're not gonna make me hope again. I'm going to stay in my palace of regret, bricks of "should have", "could have" and didn't, forever and ever, and not even the thought of having you again will make me come out. Fuck my stupid baka life. For a glorious second, Sterling considers choking him to death.
“You love torturing me, right?” Sterling hisses and his voice rips out of his mouth venemously, nothing of the cold, measured Hookline he’s spent ages building up. “Seriously, Locke! I- Really? Here, right now, of all times? You’re not making any sense right now, of course you’re not, you’re drunk, you chugged like…… 255ml of soju. You think I believe that? You think I’m stupid? If you love me, why did we have such a huge fallout? Why did we ignore each other for one year straight? Why'd we not work out? No, the answer is that you hate me. You have to. It’s the only rational answer.”
Locke is silent, confronted by his sins, and at such an opportune time when he is drunk as balls. Sterling carries on pacing around, making up lines in his head, numbers to balance out, forcing Locke into Judge, a predictable mold, something easy to control. Sterling doesn’t know this but he lives in a reality that is an echo chamber of his own making, brick by brick, and it is very easily shattered. He wipes his eyes, looking out into this blazing night. Beside him, Locke gets up from the lawn chair, and stumbles a bit, and fear shoots down Sterling's throat that he might just fall off the building but he closes their distance instead.
“See? You’re acting like I’m anything rational,” Locke says softly. “But you can’t… rationalise love, you can’t rationalise me no matter how much you want to. I’ve only laid the facts out clean for you, detective. I love you. I always have. So make a case of me. Solve me. Crack me open, get to the bottom of me. Make up an answer that will explain me in my entirety if you know me so well.”
But I don’t, Hookline shrieks desperately in his head. I clearly don’t know a damn thing about you. Once upon a time I thought you would never betray me, silly me, and I was proven wrong. Again and again, Locke remains elusive, the impossible outlier, unable to be predicted and therefore unable to be trusted. Sterling learnt the hard way. What does it matter if Locke loves him? If Locke truly loved him, why did that not stop him from doing what he did? It’s the surprise that gets him, it's that he truly didn’t see it coming. No, no matter how much Sterling YEARNS for that ass, he’s not putting his guard down. Not again.
“You look skeptical, detective,” Locke says, reaching out to trace the dog tags chain he’s wearing, and his cold fingers graze over his collarbone. In this millisecond, Sterling forgets basically everything that just happened. What guard? Where is he? “Can I convince you?”
"Convince me?" Sterling echoes a little incredulously. NO, Hookline, that's basically your ex, DON'T. He's so drunk it's almost unethical. "I don't need convincing. And you're drunk."
"Maybe I am." Locke's hand slowly slides over Sterling's collarbone, his shoulder, pulling him closer. Sterling's control is wavering a lot right now. "But I really did miss you."
Locke's a goddamn monkey. Sterling's so pissed off he can barely think, throat closing at the contact, chest aflame. He's gonna kill him. Sterling closes their distance after thinking about it (huge lie he thought about it for maybe half a second), and their lips fit together just like that, mad and sorry and wet with nostalgia for a life they didn't live together. Locke yields immediately and hungrily, and he can still taste the alcohol and bad decisions on him, invading his mouth, drinking each other in. Sterling pries his fingers into Locke's hair desperately, grabbing his horns, and Locke's fingers dig into his back. Somewhere in this, Sterling mumbles, "I fucking hate you," words spilling out the edge of their mouths. Locke laughs at this, low and deep, pulling away at this and leaving Sterling reeling, opening his eyes.
"I don't think so." Sterling inhales as Locke brings himself to his neck. Goddamn paper doll, folding under nothing.
The party downstairs fizzles out by 4am. Everyone is sluggish, barely able to hold each other home, laughter trailing out their loose mouths, raw from shouting. Swift and Tom hold Odds home, back to the camp where the adults are all entering REM sleep, back to campfires that have long fizzled out early into the tender night. Savo is piggybacking Kody, who has never stayed up to 4 before, and has fallen asleep drooling on his shoulder. They never succeeded in kicking him out. Cassie lost her voice, Cole is caffeine crashing (AGAIN), Noob is trudging beside Tory and leaning their head on his shoulder. Tory and Astro are holding their things, Tom's art materials, Cole's boombox and laptop. Hookline and Judge are nowhere to be seen, but they've honestly forgotten. Now that the fun of the night is over, tomorrow is time for packing, and another day to prepare for the corruption.
Many many years ago, in the HQ of Roblox Bureau of Investigation, the entire floor of work cubicles endures the muffled screaming of their boss behind the frosted glass of his office. The voice peaks multiple times and bounces off the echoing of the walls. After like fifty minutes, two agents limp out. Everyone nearby, their coworkers, stifle their laughter, look down back at their work. They're covered in bandages, and their cheeks stinging raw with fresh bruising.
"I don't know why I get the feeling that our boss doesn't like us," one of them says. He's one of their newer colleagues, an upstart guy. Ambitious, daredevil, tests things by biting them. The definition of unsharpened diamond. If he weren't in the RBI, he'd be in jail. On his belt is a grappling hook.
"Us? US????? You mean you and I? The both of us?!!??" The other one has a bucket with horns on his head. He's the straight man of the two, more studious and rule following, though with the same taste of ambition. the first bar on the ladder he climbed to get here, was the bar exam to become a lawyer. "ALL I DID was stand beside you. I did NOTHING. THAT was all you. Get the FACTS right."
Former grins at the latter, something blazen and mischevious, pushing his shoulder but keeping his hand there. "Hey. Don't get tired of us just yet, partner. This place would collapse without the two of us. Not every pair can just save the city on their first day, did you know?"
"Sterling, you, you... you stress me the fuck out," he groans in response, putting his head in his hands, and Sterling thinks he'll have all the time in the world to hear him whine his name like that. "I can't survive a second day with you. I swear. I need to put in my two week's notice NOW."
"Not my name anymore, by the way." Sterling salutes him goofily. "Agent Judge."
Locke sighs, with this reluctant smile worming onto his face, that expression Sterling loves. He salutes back. "Agent Hookline."