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He promised himself he wouldn’t name any of his kids something ridiculous. If he had them.
Truth be told, he was 12 when he made that promise and plus, it was only because he was on a date with a girl from his former high school who didn’t like him anyway. Turns out once she met some of his other friends - minus Mapplethorpe - she get the ick off him.
He doesn’t care what she’s doing now, anyway. Or any of his classmates. He’s far too busy.
He’s at school/university, he’s got new friends from all over the world who actually want to be in the same room as him; he’s in a different country learning a new language and customs and way of living. Should have been perfect, looking at it from an outside view.
If only it were. He guesses that despite everyone’s beliefs, not everything stays dead.
His son is proof of that.
Even now, Chester watches from his desk in his Berlin apartment, finishing off the colour blocking he needs to so he can scan and print the last page of Fester and Maggotboy to send to Violetta so she can give it to his best friend, as his Dad plays with his baby.
His baby. His little boy. His little golden haired, blue eyed boy.
He’s not under any illusion. Not now and not since. Either were his parents, when he told them and when they saw Chester holding this creature to his chest the night he was born in a Berlin hospital.
Lancelot Landis was a miracle and only Chester and his family knew just how much, with the exception of Mapplethorpe’s mum, who fell to bits seeing a photo of her grandson, with his blonde curls and chubby cheeks, only to turn and see the same thing sitting on her wall.
However, there was still one person who needed to know. Someone very important.
“Story, story, story!” The other ghosts chanted and Mapplethorpe couldn’t help but grin, holding the comic in his hands, voice low as he started to read.
“One there was and once there was not, deep in the woods on the edge of town, an old abandoned fun park forgotten by the world, but, inside, there lived, for want of a better word, the best friends a boy could ever have…”
By the time he got to the last page, the moon was high in the sky, shining its light onto monochromatic inky pages that Mapplethorpe devoured for traces of his best friend, well, more than best friend. He knew what he and Chester had was beyond the natural, even for a zombie/ghost thing like him - so he took what he could get after not seeing him for months on end. Time wasn’t linear in this space; sure, they disappeared during the day, but that could happen in Summer a lot more as the days lasted longer, opposite for Winter when it got dark quicker.
He would have asked Violetta if she’d heard more from Ches if she’d stuck around; it’s weird to know someone your whole life, both living and dead, then to know nothing at all.
“Hey, there’s something else in with it.” Destinee arched an eyebrow, looking pointedly at another piece of paper sticking out, holding her own letter from Bridget between careful fingers. “Might want to read that too.”
“Oooh, maybe it’s got juicy secrets on it.” Zed, sorry, Grimba, elbowed Gonzo who just shushed him with a look, as did Destinee, while Mapplethorpe pulled the thin card out, unfolding it. He froze, becoming more pale than he already was, before he let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob.
For on the paper, was a photo of his best friend, his Chester, holding a smiling baby boy on his hip, phone camera in the mirror, drool covered grin making the puff of curls look even wider as he was posed waving, Chester looking straight down the barrel of the lens, like he was looking back into Mapplethorpe’s eyes saying ‘This is for you, this is all for you.’
On the back of the photo was written: Lancelot Landis, Second Living Member of the Crazy Fun Park Kids Club, for Daddy. - From Papa/Chester
If Mapplethorpe could still breathe, all breath would have left his lungs right there. He simply just clutched the photo to his chest, curling around it like a snake catching its prey and shaking, face buried against his chest where his heart used to be; the other kids swarming around him, embracing him in a giant group hug as he felt warmth flow through him that had nothing to do with the sun starting to rise over the theme park.
His first reason for feeling alive was in his hands; now it was two.
