Archive of Our Own

The new house was a disaster zone of white and gold and just a hint of electric blue.

It hadn’t started that way, of course;  there was at least a calm period of nearly six months where you, Volt, and Eddie had lived in relative normalcy. In a bliss that didn’t involve planning for the most major event of their lives— as limited as they were. Only having been human for going on two years meant that any milestone they reached had the potential to take that spot; the sale of the boys’ hundredth property, your first night together in the house, the day that they slipped a ‘sold’ board onto their sign post outside of the house where you’d brought them to life in the first place. 

But this one would be different. It had to be. This was Eddie and Volt’s wedding. You had to make sure that it lived up to all of the other moments. You had to make sure it would be cemented as the definitive best day of their lives. 

In pursuit of that noble goal, you had become nothing less than a whirlwind of phone calls and calendars and a handy six-inch binder— you hadn’t even known that they made six-inch binders before you found yourself in desperate need of one after securing the seventh vendor for the wedding— filled with every little detail of crafting the ceremony of the millenium. 

You hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the act of it. There was a rush that came with putting together such a large and important event. Being able to make decisions based on how well you knew the pair who would be walking down the aisle— dreaming of seeing their stunned expressions when they finally set foot in the jaw-dropping venue you’d managed to secure using only your wit and the pure charm you’d built up in your old home— putting all of the pieces together into one magnificent masterpiece, feeling needed and appreciated in the role you’d taken on knowing that you would be pivotal in the day that the men you loved promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. 

Years of customer service had prepared you for this kind of work. You knew how to read the contractors and staff members you talked to over email or the phone and how to change tactics to get them on your side. The bakery had been more sympathetic to the lovestruck darling helping to give their partners a celebration of their love that they’d always remember. The florist had preferred you when you spoke directly and as though this was nothing more than your way of putting money in the bank; having assumed that you were a professional during your first call.

Most vendors made that assumption, which you rationalized to yourself— after the first three quote requests that painted you as a removed, hired wedding planner— as human inability to see beyond the traditional outline of what love and of marriage meant to them. At least the frequency of that assumption made the rarer moments of a contact actually understanding the relationship you had with Eddie and Volt all the more special. The best moment had been when you’d ventured out of the beautiful home the pair had made for you to visit with an elderly woman in Coolsville named Agatha, who specialized in hand-embroidering wedding garments. 

She’d put the pieces together quicker than you’d thought, and had smiled softly at you as she took your hand between both of her own. 

“You are so fortunate to have found such an abundance of love in this life, my dear.” Agatha had told you, before scrawling out an invoice for you at half the going cost of every Etsy store you’d scrolled through, and sending you on your way.

You left with a tin of homemade shortbreads and a promise on your lips that you would come back with photos of the ceremony after the fact. The buttery treats went quickly between you, Eddie, and Volt; the last of the three of you having developed quite the sweet tooth since being realized and wholly unable to resist the siren song of such well-baked cookies. 

As delightful as it was to chat with innumerable shop owners and service providers about the ins and outs of the day, you had to admit that assigning yourself to the role of wedding planner had also come with its drawbacks. Namely, the legal aspects of planning nuptials. 

There was one flaw, in your eyes, when it came to realization. Sure, it had brought so many dear, dear friends and loved ones into your life officially— without the need for a pair of magical glasses that you still occasionally wore for their standard purpose now that Skylar didn’t inhabit them— and you could hardly imagine a world in which you hadn’t realized the souls in your home. 

But, welcoming back a hundred people to Coolsville became a bit more difficult than you’d thought it would. Especially when they didn’t have passports. Or social security numbers. Or any evidence that they existed legally aside from the fact that they were walking about the waking world. Which had added a whole new wrinkle to your planning that had resulted in more than one midnight phone call and immoral contemplation of just how much money Franklin and David would have to throw at the federal government to get a few dozen people into the country with absolutely no documentation whatsoever. 

Thankfully, after three weeks of being buried in paperwork and no less than seven sessions of Volt, Eddie, or a combination of the two having to pry you away from the dining room table— every inch of the wood covered by blinding white and marred by legalese— to go rest, you learned that ‘how much money’ was actually ‘quite a reasonable amount of money’, to use David’s words. Suddenly, there were packets of official United States identification being shipped out across the world. 

You’d screamed for several hours about the ludicrousness of that fact, Volt bouncing back and forth between a similarly pissed off Eddie and you throughout the night. Something about how Eddie spent most of his time away from your home buried in red tape with restoring historic buildings, but Most and Lieste could wave a wad of cash and make the impossible happen in a snap. 

Once you’d both begrudgingly tempered your feelings on the matter, you called David and Franklin to both thank them profusely and to ask that all of you never mention this again; for their sakes, not yours. And to sternly remind them that if they were going to promote the ‘secret poofing of people into existence’, they’d better come up with a way to make their lives not a living hell once they were realized. 

Still, the RSVPs began rolling in. Some were quicker to the draw than others; Celia and Florence’s ‘yes’ arriving alongside official letterhead of Florence’s administration congratulating the three of you within days of the invites being mailed out, while Jean Loo’s trickled in with a week to spare, scrawled on the back of a scrap of adding machine tape instead of the original RSVP card. You’d already added him to the counts alongside a handful of others you anticipated would not be getting back to you in time, but the confirmation had still been nice to receive. However it arrived at your doorstep.

It was going to be good to see everyone in one place again, for more than just you. Volt had been waxing poetic recently about missing the delightful conversation that Betty and Rainey provided, while Eddie made sly comments about only caring that the bartender lived up to his and Beverly’s exacting standards. 

Slowly but surely, every little detail was coming together. The place, the people, the party; everything was set to be absolutely perfect for your boys. Just as you’d planned it to be. 

Despite your confidence in your abilities, you knew they still worried. 

One night, back when there were three months left until the day, Eddie had lingered behind your makeshift station in the dining room for too long. 

“You’re staring.” You teased, feeling his eyes burning into your back. 

“It’s late, spark.” His hands slid over your shoulders, and you named the careful pressure at the back of your head as him laying a kiss there. You could tell that he was right about the hour even without checking your phone; he was only this openly affectionate when he was sleepy. A bit of slow fumbling allowed you to disentangle yourself from the work you alone had assigned to yourself enough to reach for one of his hands, dotting his knuckles with brushes of your own lips. 

“Volt already asleep?” You asked, and that stirred a low, fond chuckle out of Eddie.

“Yeah. Can’t you hear him?” The pair of you sat in the silence, and for a moment there was no evidence of your fiance’s signature snore. Until a rumble so loud you were surprised it didn’t shake the picture frames from the walls echoed through the house from the upstairs bedroom. You tipped your head back against Eddie’s torso as you laughed. 

After all this time, you’d both learned to tune out the sound for your own sanity, but the reminder of his presence— of all three of you united under one roof that had been selected just for you— still warmed you over to bask in. 

“Go join him, honey, I’ll be up soon.” 

“Liar.”

You hummed, but refused to give him the win of admitting he was right. 

This was just an involved week for planning! The wedding shower was in only twelve days, so you were in the midst of sorting out proper catering for all who were close enough to have reasonably invited, arranging plans for that venue on a much smaller scale than the main event, and managing to wiggle it all into the budget you’d collectively set for the entire topic of ‘wedding activities’. You’d be back to a normal-adjacent sleep schedule when the week was done. 

“You sure you’re alright with this, livewire?” Eddie asked into your hair. “It would be the three of us if we had a—” 

“‘If we had a choice’, I know. But we don’t. And it means so much to you and Volt.” You recited off all of the discussion points you’d been recycling for the last nine months. “I’m fine with being part of it this way. It’s just paper at the end of the day to me. It’s more to you than to me. Having you two is enough, I promise.”

Your chin tipped up a little more, and Eddie raised an eyebrow before rolling his eyes as he caught on, dipping down to kiss you lazily. Yeah, you would be happy just to have this; Eddie’s tired kisses and Volt’s god-awful snoring as its backing track. The rush of being loved wholly, just as you were. 

Eddie bid you goodnight, and though you returned to your spreadsheets and notepads and your need to squint at your laptop from how long you’d been looking at it, you couldn’t get his voice out of your head. His concern over you that you knew Volt shared, and what it meant for the three of you that only two would ever be able to take that step together. 

But you were fine. You were glad to orchestrate for the pair who had done so much for you in the short time since they had been realized. Why couldn’t they see that? Why couldn’t they just accept that this arrangement was working out? Maybe after the wedding, they would go back to normal, too. When you weren’t slipping into bed only when the moon was starting to drift back towards the horizon. When there was nothing to plan for but life out ahead of you, whichever way the three of you chose to take it.

Now, only a handful of hours stood between you and the pursuit of your future. And today was going to be perfect, because you’d made it to be so. Because it had to be so, or else what had all those nights been for? 

Or at least, that was what you had assumed. 

The universe, it seemed, was hell-bent on disproving that assumption. 

When you’d first found the massive manor at the top of the hill, it had been an accident. A small tour you’d taken yourself on to get away from the words and that irritating, thin script every wedding website used that were currently working in tandem to make your vision blur. You had been intent on situating yourself in the trails that wound through higher elevations of Coolsville, and getting temporarily lost among the trees. 

Instead, what you’d stumbled upon had been this. All grayish-white worn stone outlined in stark black carpentry, jutting out in places to form bays and surrounded on all sides by bright green trees and wildflowers in reds and oranges and yellows. Tucked away from the world, and yet feeling as though an entire army could be held within the space it inhabited; between the building itself and the sprawling garden that pushed around the sides of the manor. Wherever it ended, that garden must have overlooked the entire city— the forest pushed to the sides to reveal nothing but expansive sky behind the home’s roofing. 

It was everything you’d wanted. And, just in case you hadn’t been fully sold on hosting the wedding here by whatever means necessary based on sight alone, a wooden sign swayed in the breeze just beside the main staircase; The Mountain Manor. Just below the title, the words ‘Gatherings and Ceremonies’ had been scrawled. 

Several tours with the owners— a lovely, young couple named Lillian and Johanna who had inherited the manor from Johanna’s late grandmother— later, and you had secured the fall date for Eddie and Volt. 

You pushed into the manor with a veritable storm of activity flowing around you. This morning, it was supposed to just be you doing the original set-up of the venue so that by the time vendors, wedding party, and the grooms themselves were scheduled to stroll in, the manor was almost entirely prepared to support them exactly where they needed to be. Or at least, so you’d been told.

So to see even another soul here was quite a problem. 

Teams of people marched in and out of the main hall carrying buckets of tools, ladders, cleaning supplies, every possible thing that you hadn’t planned on seeing when you’d told Lillian that you would be starting your preparations at seven in the morning on the day of the wedding. Thankfully, you didn’t have to gawk at the tides of unexpected individuals long before a shock of familiar red hair was speeding down the grand staircase where Eddie and Volt were meant to be getting married in a matter of hours. 

“Johanna!” You called out, her eyes wide and flittering around the room before landing on you at last with pure embarrassment littering her features while she called your name back. 

“I’m so sorry, I thought they’d be able to fix it up before you got here.” She sputtered, faster than light and only just making sense in your mind as your ears kept catching single words unrelated to either of you from the shouting all around the manor. “We had a pipe burst in the parlor last night, my crews have been here since one. The repair team tells me they should be done soon—”

“How soon is ‘soon’?” You asked, doing your best to keep from sounding too frazzled in reaction to the news. Already, your mind was reeling with the ways it would impact the schedule for the day that you had practically memorized, but also had printed out in the inside cover of the binder that was weighing your arms down. You tapped it to relieve the anxiety, and hoped that the longer you did so, the more likely it was to work. 

“An hour?”

Breathe in, breathe out, resist the temptation to tug hair from scalp, and then you were back to the conversation. You smiled at Johanna, though by the grimace she wore, it was hardly as convincing as it felt. 

“Any chance we could whittle it to thirty minutes?” You grit out, eyes stinging. 

“Done.” She nodded, a kind hand squeezing your shoulder before she dashed off to the parlor, shouting names you didn’t recognize over the din of wood and metal work. 

This was fine. Everything was fine. The crew would fix the pipe, and if you just moved a little faster, you could easily squeeze the transformation of the parlor to the guest reception area into the little gaps of time where you anticipated other rooms requiring less set-up. No problem. This was what you made plans for. So the whole thing didn’t come crumbling down because of a simple pipe. 

You scampered up the grand staircase before you could think any more about the disaster of the parlor, and skirted along the left-hand branch at the landing halfway up to find yourself in the spacious office you planned to station Eddie, Beverly, and Chairemi in when they arrived. The tailor would be dropping off the final alterations to Eddie and Volt’s tuxes in an hour or so, but for now, you set the room with his plush robe— Eddie’s name embroidered on the chest pocket by Agatha— and the small journal you’d had crafted out of aged leather for him. Volt’s iteration of each item stayed stashed on top of your binder and over your shoulder, ready to have the same done to them in the bedroom on the opposite side of the staircase, where Volt would be meeting Betty and Rainey for their collective hair and makeup sessions. 

Beverly and Chairemi’s satin robes were hung from hooks on the wall before you sped off to do the same across the manor, and fell into an easy rhythm completing your checklist with a smile on your face that grew with every reduction of noise in the rooms below. It drifted off with the rising of the sun until there was only Johanna calling up to you.

“All yours!” 

“Thanks, Jo!” 

Then the front door closed with a barely-audible click, and you were left blissfully alone again. Glancing at your phone, you noticed two things at once. The first, a message from Volt into your group chat with him and Eddie lighting up the lower half of the screen; ‘is it too early for us to be missing you, darling?’ Second, you still had just enough time to get the parlor in order. You locked your phone and stuffed it haphazardly into your pocket, speeding down the grand staircase at full tilt. 

Still time. Still just enough time. Nothing could stand in your way, and this would still be the best day possible for Eddie and Volt. You’d conquered more frightening things than a broken pipe. Memories of flickering lights and a familiar nickname on the wrong tongue were blinked away as quickly as they came. 

By the time you had finished setting a pair of long tables with painstakingly selected decorations and intricate little labels that you’d been writing for the last week— ‘place gifts here’ and ‘cards in this box’ and ‘leave a note for the Wattses’ and half a dozen more messages you knew many of the former objects wouldn’t even glance at— there was a resounding knock echoing through the manor from the main entrance. Distantly, you let yourself be grateful that you hadn’t started with the parlor as you’d originally planned; there was no way you’d have heard that from one of the bedrooms.

“Coming, coming!” You rattled off as you closed the distance between yourself and the front door. By your schedule, this was supposed to be the suits for Eddie and Volt and the dresses for the girls. Right on time! Yes! You whipped the door open, and were instantly met with a bubbly young man carrying a clipboard where he stood next to a rolling cart of zipped garment bags. For a beat, you caught yourself wondering how he’d managed to get the rack up the front steps, but chose not to say anything, ushering him inside instead so that you could sign off on the delivery.

“The bedroom on the right for the vest and the office on the left for the long-sleeve.” You told him between scribbles of your signature on the paper, handing him the clipboard in its entirety the moment you were finished, only to nearly be blown away by the speed at which he was dashing off with the bags held aloft. “Thank you?”

Moving swiftly on, then. The florist would be here any second, and the bartender, the hairstylists...

If your binder was shaking a bit in your hands, that was no one’s concern but your own. 

The rest of the morning moved in a similar blur to the man from the tailor’s, and you found yourself smothered in white rose petals and pages turning one after another. It was a steady flow of vendors and strangers whose faces you struggled to place from the innumerable meetings you’d had, leaving your cheeks sore from smiling wide enough to appear friendly in spite of your heart beating like a hummingbird and the thin layer of sweat on your temples. 

“The smaller garlands will go on the bannister, the larger ones on the stairs themselves, right?” You found yourself asking once this group of vendors had been handled, receiving a nod as the florist stared intently at a pile of roses and eventually plucked one from the dozen they had left sprawling on the landing.

“Alright, cutie, so where do you want us?” A familiar, lilting voice sailed through the air just behind you in the main hall, and you shot up from where you had been helping the florist tie stems to the arch that had been placed at the top of the first staircase. Immediately, your eyes latched onto the pile of bubblegum pink curls offering you a smirk and a fluttering of her fingers. Before you could even draw another breath, you were soaring across the entryway to toss yourself openly into Betty’s waiting arms. 

It had been quite some time since Betty had last been able to make the trek out to your neck of the woods, all of her time booked up by her flourishing film career and the rampant need for her work that was increasing every day. She was incredibly popular among novel adaptations, it seemed, and messaged you frequently with updates on the star-studded life she led in California. 

Her arms wrapping you tight against her were just as comforting now as they had been when she had been your bed. 

“It’s so good to see you, Bet.” You sighed, letting yourself melt into her hold and be surrounded by the cloud of vanilla-sweet scent that moved around her. “How’s Cali?” 

“Busier than ever, honey. I love what I do, but it’s nice to be around folks who don’t start every conversation with me by telling me their fences.” She said, every word coated in that thick layer of ease and quiet confidence that Betty carried with her.

“The bed gets all the hugs, but nothin’ for the bar?” A vibrant voice chirped, heaving a bag off of their shoulder and dropping it to the ground next to you with a resounding, if muffled thud. The moment you poked your head up from Betty’s curls, you were being yanked into a one-armed hold that drew you tight against Beverly’s side. Where the former bed had swanned in on a wave of sugar, Beverly brought only sharp citrus and the bitter sting of dark alcohol that still sometimes lingered around Eddie when he paid the Breaker Box 2.0 the occasional visit. 

You hadn’t understood how deeply you’d missed them until now. 

Maybe your brain had tricked you into believing they were all still around— ghosting about in their objects just as they always had been before Franklin and before the Dateviators and before realization. That while you had been going on with your domestic little life that you shared with a pair of electric souls, your hundred built-in roommates were there all the while. That if you still had those bright pink glasses, you might feel Betty or Mateo’s signature plush embrace after a long day. Long days might be unwound with Connie’s extensive storylines on Telly’s screen— the handful of dead pixels earned in the move something he’d easily pass off as proof of his long-standing charm. 

It had been far too long. So when— squished between two former objects who were squealing into your ears as their grips slowly wore out— you caught sight of a pair of actresses fawning aimlessly over each other’s casually elegant outfits behind Betty and Beverly’s shoulders, you started to feel the slightest bit at home in this manor. 

You pressed your palm momentarily to your sternum, hoping to smooth away the odd feeling that had sparked up under your ribs, and led your newly welcomed quartet up to their respective dressing rooms. 

Conversation flowed between the five of you like not a moment of time had passed. Rainey spoke at length about the joys and trials of Broadway while Chairemi interjected little compassionate tidbits here and there about understanding the life of a performer. When they had to split off, it was with much pouting and more than a few false tears shed. Then Betty started talking Rainey’s ear off about the romance and power struggle of the latter’s most recent character while Beverly likened her mixology to improv at Chairemi’s side, and suddenly there was chatter filling the halls all over again. 

You had opted to set up shop in the bedroom, using the space on the bed to flip through your binder and double-check your schedule. The girls were thankfully right on time, and you now had a spare fifteen minutes to simply relax while they settled into their rooms.

“Okay, sugar, let’s get a look at those dresses!” Rainey chimed, and you waved a hand over towards where they hung against the wall, too engrossed in the contract associated with your bartender, who you’d have to check on after this little break. A pair of zipping noises rushed through the bedroom, and then all went still. 

“Uh, sweetie?” Betty piped up after a beat, and you hummed an acknowledgement while popping off the cap of your highlighter between your teeth. You’d paid extra for the specific brands of whiskey and brandy requested for the reception, so you should make sure those arrived with the shipment. Oh, and you’d ordered the glasses right from them as well, so that was another necessary detail— “They’re red.” 

Your highlighter dropped from your hand— instinct causing you to wince like it was still Penelope who’d fallen to the stack of paper and left a bright yellow smear behind— and you whipped your head up to stare at the garish, misplaced, scarlet red fabric masquerading as the dresses you’d order months ago. They were meant to be in a lovely shade of blue that was sure to compliment all of the girls’ skin tones. A shade that matched the favors and tablecloth trim and the accent items in the boys’ suits and every other little thing at the wedding. 

But instead, there they stood, mocking you as you scrambled across the comforter to take the satin between two fingers. At least it matched the red currently fogging over your vision. 

It was still their dresses— you practically had the decorative straps of Betty’s sleeveless rendition and the slip-esque silhouette of Rainey’s burned into your skull at this point considering they were page six of the binder, right behind Eddie and Volt’s vow books that now sat perfectly perched and dyed blue in their dressing areas— just now in a color bordering on festive. 

“Okay.” You muttered, mostly to yourself between instances of digging your teeth into your lip hard enough that you might draw blood. Not that you’d have to worry about getting any on these dresses, it would blend right in! “Okay...okay, okay. I’m calm. I’m so calm. I am the epitome of calm!” You growled, taking purposeful, slow breaths that did nothing to soothe the rapidity of your pulse. 

“Partner? We’ve got a situation over here...” Chairemi spoke up over your circular breathing, and you turned your eyes up to the beautifully intricate vaulted ceiling that you knew Volt was going to be obsessed with when he arrived in hopes that some higher power might be listening. 

“Is it long, shiny, and reminiscent of Carrie at the prom?” You called back with a little too much disgust on your tongue, leaving the bloodbath in front of you behind in favor of stomping over to the balcony, where you knew you’d be able to see into the office from afar. 

And there they were; Bev’s halter-necked style and Chairemi’s one-shoulder. Vivid and red as Maggie’s hair. Fantastic. 

From your point of view, two roads were laid out ahead of you. The next several hours of your life could be spent attempting to wrangle and refrain from strangling the tailor that the bridal shop had routed you through, who you knew for a fact would not be open to accept your call and would require you jumping through several hoops before you even began to get in touch with anyone who could help you. Or, you could accept your fate and hope that the colors didn’t clash with the floral arrangements already set up downstairs. 

Deep breaths, you reminded yourself. A flash of unexpected color like a ripe tomato caught your eye, and you were forced to restart your breathing circuit over.

“It’s fine. It’s all fine. We’ll go with these, and I’ll get the world’s largest refund after the wedding. Problem solved.” You huffed, foot tapping an uneven rhythm into the dark wooden floorboards. “Got that over there?” Your voice carried over to the other side of the staircase, where Beverly shouted her confirmation, and the soft clamor of conversation reignited all around you.

“Will you be getting ready with us?” Betty asked, summoning you back to the bedroom where you scooped your documents back into your speedily tiring arms and shook your head.

“I have to go make sure the bartender brought the right liquor— especially after this— and then it’s the cake and then the boys are getting here and you all know I’m officiating so I have to—”

“We understand, hun.” Rainey lifted a palm to face you, a fond smile painting her lips and cheeks. “Runnin’ around making sure everyone’s taken care of. Some things never change.”

You nodded once, your own face beginning to get hot under the knowledge that your friends had of you— far more than you knew of, even, after years of silent observation before those magical glasses had come into your life. 

Minutes turned to hours in the blink of an eye, and the pages you flipped in your binder were starting to slam against the front cover as items were checked off of the mental and physical to-do lists you had running as you completed each task you’d set for yourself. 

The parlor was a brief respite from all of the commotion as you caught your breath for the first time in what felt like it could have been decades. You had to be careful not to let your voice get too scratchy or your throat too hoarse. You wouldn’t want the thing that demolished Eddie and Volt’s wedding to be your own vocal cords giving out after a day spent directing vendors; both your own and the manor’s. Johanna had called in a few additional favors on your behalf as an apology for the morning’s commotion. The live painter would be a nice touch, you thought as she settled her easel at a tucked-away junction point between the parlor and grand staircase, just on the other side of the piano that would be attended to in a few hours. 

You were so caught up in checking over the space, making sure that each detail was where it was meant to be and that nothing besides the unfortunately obvious incident upstairs was out of place, when your vision went black; a warm, thrumming energy buzzing around your eyes and pressed against your back.

“Hello my darling.” Volt’s accented voice purred into the shell of your ear, leaving you briefly convinced he’d managed to retain some of his electrical connection based on the lighting that shot down your spin in response to his lips hovering so close to your skin. Those lips gave themselves permission to wander, tracing a line back to your nape and down the column of your throat, your head tipping back to provide him all the space he wanted.

It was Volt’s day, after all. You’d have let Eddie do the same if he were there, and this was most certainly not the time to think about Eddison Watts and soon-to-be Volt Watts delivering their attention to you from either side. 

You were sure to have plenty of that during the honeymoon. 

“Hey Volt,” you managed shakily between bouts of sharp canines nipping at soft skin, but never enough to leave a mark on today of all days, “shouldn’t you be getting ready? And have Eddie with you?”

“He had to tend to some tasks of his own before joining us. Rather tight-lipped about it. Unlike myself...”

As his hands drifted down to your hips, you couldn’t help but mentally kick yourself for ever suggesting he step away.  

The moment that he did, he’d be just as lost in this hurricane of activity as you were, and there would be no hope of having any more sweet moments like these until after the reception. Volt spun you in his hands, and your arms found an instantaneous home thrown over his shoulders. He wasted no time in sealing his lips over yours; careless and torturously slow while his thumbs dug into your skin enough to be felt. 

Upstairs, voices trickled down in time with the shuffling of expensive fabric. Glass clinked through the entryway as boxes of bottles to lull a hundred strong into drunkenness were moved one at a time to the reception hall. Wheels outside scratched against asphalt that had been worn to a pale grey by the many that had been there before them. 

You knew the sounds were there. Knew they were happening, because they had to be. The whole world had to be moving, and you had to be moving to keep up with it and with the plans you had put in place for this day. And yet the action and importance of your movement lost all meaning here. Somewhere between icy eyes and the corner of a smirk— lacking its usual, subtle sheen of gloss— you let it all slip away in favor of what they had to offer. 

Lost in the storm that Volt had developed into since realization, you tethered yourself to this plane with your fingers knotted in his loose, fluffy curls. A floral, slightly fruity smell surrounded you when you did; he must have forgone most of his products for the stylist. Usually, their heavier scents layered together to form that effortless look to his hair completely eradicated any remnants of the much lighter shampoo he’d only settled on after months of searching for something to tame the mane that had once been pure electricity. Without them, you were able to feel the true softness of his cloud of hair with none of the guilt that came with ruining their perfect styling by threading your fingers through them. 

When the pair of you finally came up for air— Volt sporting that typical, adorable pout he’d developed a habit of wearing each time he was reminded that he was bound by a human lung capacity— you let yourself rest in his hold, your head against his chest. 

“I messaged you several times, livewire.” He chided, but still smoothed his hand up and down your back. “Eddie and I were beginning to worry you never made it here. Especially considering you left without saying goodbye this morning.” 

“Too much to do today, pretty boy.” You pushed into the lapel of his jacket, smiling to yourself when his hand paused to tighten its wrap around the side of your ribs. Good, let him have a taste of his own nickname-flavored medicine for once. 

“Yes, but you could have woken one of us,” no, you couldn’t have, not when they looked so peaceful with Eddie’s arms curled around Volt’s waist from behind and fisted in the only fabric they could find; the waistband of Volt’s pajama pants, “you know how we despise waking up to a cold bed.” 

“It was not cold; you furnaces were in it!” You teased, pushing him halfheartedly away to scoop up your binder from one of the nearby tables and start off— his hand in yours— towards the bedroom. 

“Livewire, how forward of you!” Volt grinned the moment the room came into view, only to be immediately thwapped on the forearm. The booming sound of him drew two pairs of owlishly large eyes around the jamb of the door, and suddenly you were screeching to a halt just as your feet hit the top stair.

The trio of former objects did nothing but blink at each other for a long minute, and it felt like an appropriate time for your turn at being smug. 

Which was exactly when Volt had seemed to have recovered enough to squeal so loudly it echoed through the entire manor as he dashed into Betty and Rainey’s arms, both of them making similar noises of excitement as the three hopped around together like schoolgirls. You stood back while they did, glad to do nothing except take in the sight of your fiance and friends bouncing off the walls from seeing each other. By your count, although they called and messaged incessantly, this was the first time Volt and Eddie would be seeing any of the others since they’d stopped being objects in your house. 

You had never been big on friends. Sure, you had Sam, but that college friendship had always had an added layer of distance and technology between it ever since you’d graduated that the two of you were only recently able to overcome. But the squeezing sensation in your chest, the one that chased after every arrival of someone you found yourself caring so deeply for within the last two years, made you realize that might not be so true anymore. 

Hell, you had a hundred people coming to this wedding. A wedding between your two loves who had no family to speak of— not in the traditional sense, at least. A hundred people. Two years ago, you hadn’t even known a hundred people. Now you could rattle off their life stories, every detail of their personalities, their favorite foods, music genres, moments of their new lives. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. When had you blinked and become accustomed to the noise and vibration where there used to be none for days, weeks on end? When did this turn into your normal? To be loved and cared about and checked in on where you used to only rely on the fact that your parents would reach out once a month to make sure you weren’t dead? 

Having people in your life felt, fittingly enough, like a blanket. The fluffy one that usually hid under the tufted quilt that had made up Mateo’s jacket. It felt like compression and security and that little bit of warmth when you needed it most. 

You had people now. And they would all be here, celebrating the great love felt between two of their own. Two of your own. 

You smiled, and turned away from the scene of Volt asking Betty and Rainey animatedly about their new lives so that you could dab at your eyes with just a smidge of privacy. 

“Gettin’ all soft on us, spark?” You jumped as the voice sounded from much closer than you could have anticipated. When did they both get so good at sneaking up on you?

“Eddison Watts, are you trying to kill me?!” 

He laughed, and tipped your chin down with two fingers so that he could lay a kiss to your forehead. 

“Hello to you, too.” Eddie chirped, giggling behind every word. He’d been nothing but smiles for the last few days, and despite all of his assertions that he didn’t have too many opinions about his and Volt’s wedding, they had given away just how much he really cared about what this day meant for both of them. 

“Eddie?!” Volt shouted, and dashed behind the massive wooden door to the tune of Betty and Rainey’s raucous laughter. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck for us to see each other before the wedding?!”

“I thought we said we weren’t doing that?” He raised an eyebrow in the direction of where Volt clung to the wood, only the tips of his fingers visible where they curled around the edge of it. “We woke up together, Vee. I’ve already seen you today.”

“Clearly, darling!” The visible hand shifted to point between Volt’s wedding party members. “The girls' dresses arrived in the wrong color! Bad luck!” 

Eddie’s smile left him immediately, and he turned to look at you more puzzled than you’d ever seen him. Your cheeks burned a similar color to the gowns still hanging in each room, waiting for the groomsmaids’ hair and makeup to be completed before they were zipped on. You had done your best not to think about them too much while you’d dealt with the other vendors, just to keep from spiralling into thoughts of how every single one of them might also show up with the wrong items to ruin your day. 

You couldn’t take the disappointment you were reading in Eddie’s eyes, and brushed past him just before his parted lips could form another word.

“You’re in the office with Bev and Remi. Let me know if you need anything.” 

Then you were down the steps and weaving your way through the different rooms of the manor, only coming to a stop when you’d rounded your fourth corner and felt confident in the fact that you had maneuvered away from the men you loved. There was no way you’d live down disappointing them after all of this work. After all of the time you spent tucking yourself away and promising that you would see to every detail and forging a path forward for yourself that allowed you to take part in a ceremony that truly had no room for your participation. 

A peek at your checklist managed to slow your heart rate a bit; only a handful of items remained before you were able to start getting ready for the ceremony. There was one that had been heavily underlined— the cake. 

It would be easy enough; you’d spent forever working with the bakery on it. The colors, the design, everything had been laid out just so. You’d seen the final sketches a matter of weeks ago, and the copy of it that you’d been sent lived inside of a sheet protector, serving as a reminder of the beauty your hard work could bring. It was your shining star. Your magnum opus. And it was meant to be delivered directly to the manor’s kitchen as of ten minutes ago. 

You finally took a moment to process where you had found yourself in your attempted escape, and a glance out the closest window oriented you with the fact that you were in the hallway approaching the grand library. 

When you’d first toured with Johanna and Lillian, the three of you had discussed the possibility of using the library for the ceremony. It was a gorgeous room, and had been their most popular since opening to weddings because of its three-floored layout. The problem you’d found with it had simply been seating. For as massive as the building was, finding any single room that could hold all of your former housemates had been a struggle. You would have used the garden as your next choice, but Lillian and Johanna had simply exchanged a glance and told you it was booked for your date already, though it shouldn’t interfere with your event at all.

So, at the end of the tour, the reception hall had been what you’d settled on. 

But on the way out of the library, they had led you back to the kitchen. You reached into the recesses of your mind for the memory of the pathway, and let your feet move on that memory alone. You reached the kitchen much faster than you’d anticipated, and tried as hard as you could to not blame your speed on the urge to avoid that disappointed look on Eddie’s face.

Forgetting the way his eyebrows met in the middle to create that signature crease came simply enough when you came face-to-face with a little pink box placed on the countertop; a tidy white bow tied to keep it closed. Emphasis on the ‘little’. The box that you were met with, while prim and proper, was no bigger than a box you would expect from a birthday cake. Maybe a bit taller. Maybe.

The walls felt like they were closing in around you with every step you took towards the box, glaring as hard as you ever had— even worse than when Drysdale had first recounted his side of the Pale Betrayal— at the unassuming container. The ribbon slid off smoothly, and your heart sank down to your stomach at how light the weight in your hands was. Then the lid was moving, and your hands no longer seemed connected to your brain, moving on their own to reveal the latest disaster of this day. 

What you found when you opened the box fully was just what you had expected; the cake that you had painstakingly detailed with the bakery. The one that you had a final drawing of among the other details of today, stacked firmly until the weight smashed it flat between sheets of contracts and invoices. Only this cake? This cake was made much, much smaller than you’d asked for. It couldn’t have been more than a foot high, three mockingly-minuscule tiers in blue and gold and white starting up a burning sensation behind your eyes until you had to look away.

Thankfully the sprawling, industrial fridge was there to catch you when you stumbled back into it, sliding down to the floor until you could pull your knees against your forehead. 

You led Eddie through breathing exercises more than once since realizing your fiances— memories of the reset and the original split and all the pain that came with both still hovering over him like a dark cloud some days— but you didn’t think you’d ever have to employ those same tactics on yourself. Your lungs kept stuttering when they had nearly reached capacity, bumping against the anguish and panic in your chest. The circuit you breathed through couldn’t complete itself, and you fisted your hand in the loose shirt you’d decided on to make yourself comfortable during preparations that morning. Load of good it was doing you now, the grip you kept on it willing your body to regulate itself enough for you to get back up, only to fail miserably.

Cold radiated off of the metal door your head rested on, and the sharp feeling of it against the back of your skull made your eyes snap open, locking instantly on the plastic corner of a familiar item hanging just over the edge of the counter. The thought of that massive binder, sitting filled with a thousand plans waiting to go wrong in some twisted bit of karma from the universe, made your stomach rise into your throat. 

Battling it down, the temporary distraction allowed you to pull one over on your panicking mind and reach up to clutch the counter. You pulled yourself to standing and— ignoring the peppy, pink presence of the bakery box— flipped rapidly through the thing until you found the final proof you’d been dreaming of since it had been sent to you. 

You were really going to have your hands full, it seemed, with fighting these vendors and their mistakes. You were precise. You were careful. You had decided and determined every single element down to the temperature of the manor, set to a precise sixty-eight degrees so that Volt and Eddie’s wavy hair wouldn’t react to the heat and potential humidity that would come with it. Everything was supposed to be perfect, especially something as important as the wedding cake. You had made sure of it, and when your finger slid over the glossy page protector, digesting every word on that proof sheet, you could hardly find anything—

There it was. At the bottom of the page, amongst all of the other information sorted into individual boxes to create a single table of dates, times, flavors, colors, addresses; it was there that you found your culprit. 

‘Guests: 10’. Ten. Not the one hundred and ten you’d order for, just in case, but ten. A measly handful, easily satiated by the cake that now sat next to you on the counter. And there was no faulting the bakery for it, in the end, because just below that number was a signature line, and on that signature line? The memorized loops and lines of your own signature.

You’d missed the mistake. 

Not the bakery. You. You with your hands in every pot and your late nights and the bags under your eyes matching Eddie’s and the ink stains on your fingers from freshly-printed pages. You with red dresses like wounds on your intricate plan and what was supposed to tower on the pedestal you’d purchased to display it during the reception now reduced to something you could carry in one hand. 

Breathe. Breath in. Breath deep. Good. Now out. You imagined the catch of Eddie’s unruly waves under your fingertips. In again. Volt’s tender, nightly kiss laid on your forehead, the tip of your nose, the crown of your head. Out again. Feel yourself in the world. Feel the damp evidence of shame and disappointment on your cheeks. Feel the way it stuck to your eyelashes. Feel the bite of teeth drawing your bottom lip into your own mouth. Breathe.

Your phone was out of your pocket in a flash. Ignoring the handful of notifications on its main screen, you flipped through your contacts until a single name stood out. Flipped through the binder all the same until you landed on the travel details of each and every former object making their way to your location as you spoke, until you were able to release a soft sigh of relief.

Fingers moving like lightning, you called the first name of the duo who just might be able to save you. She never let it ring more than twice if she could help it, and today was no exception, it seemed. 

“Милый мой!” Dasha’s bright voice called through the speaker, and somewhere in the background, you could just make out the low sound of Abel raising his voice over the hum of traffic behind them to say his own ‘hello’ to you. “Should you not be preparing for the nuptials? Big, big day for our favorite светлячки!” She must have pulled the receiver away, her voice getting muffled amongst the noise. “Луно́чка, what is the word? The little insects with the lights?” 

“Fireflies, Dasha.” You answered, just before Abel was able to. On any other day, you could listen to the pair ramble for hours, trading words and phrases and sugar-sweet compliments that spoke to how deeply they cared for one another. But today, you were on a mission. “Listen, I fucked up.” 

“Language, pardner!” Abel chided, though his voice shook with hearty laughter. 

“How fast can the two of you get here?” You asked, hoping not to sound too desperate to your friends who you only got to see on a rare occasion. “It’s a cake emergency.” 

Twin gasps echoed through to your ear, and you relished the fond smile they stirred out of you. Yeah, it was going to be nice having everyone back together. 

“Abel! To the market!” Dasha instructed, and a vague sound of surprise followed the announcement, along with one, simple assurance. “We will arrive in fifteen minutes!”

The line went dead, and you had never been so thrilled to have set up your desk with your table. Stealing a glance at it, you scoffed at the too-small cake, and tracked a hand through your hair. One crisis solved. Maybe it was strong enough to outweigh the other one mocking you upstairs. 

You took the moment to revel in the quiet. The only sounds that invaded the kitchen were the buzz of the appliances, whispering like crickets around you, and the infrequent creaking of old floorboards over your head. Tracing the path you’d taken, it must have been the office. That made sense, it was too deliberate and quiet to be the room holding Volt, Betty, and Rainey. You were nearly positive that standing under that room would be a symphony of noise, not this solitary melody that quieted and escalated rhythmically. 

A flip to the front of your binder— ripping out the dreaded page showing where you’d failed as you turned away from it— allowed you to find your place on the tasklist again. By now, the florist would have finished placing the rest of the arrangements. The bar staff would be waiting patiently for the start of the reception. Catering would let themselves in through the entrance just across the room from you mid-way through the ceremony. 

That just left you. 

Looking down, you cringed at the rumpled, disheveled look you had taken on throughout the morning. The collar of your shirt had been tugged sharply to the left at some point, you could see strands of hair falling unelegantly into your vision, and your brow and neck were both damp with sweat from exertion and panic combined. A glance at your watch revealed that you’d run over your scheduled time, and what little you had left would have to be used very wisely. 

When you’d arrived, you’d stashed away the small duffle and garment bag of your own outfit near the main staircase. You had known then that attempting to anticipate where you would be when the time came for you to ready yourself for the ceremony was a fool’s errand, leaving the central room as the only logical location for it until that time. Now, that space also held the small issue of being where you left Eddie and Volt as well. 

You stared hard at the doorway to the hall. Then at the door to the patio. Just beyond it the sprawled forest that had lulled you in when you first found the manor, now warmed over by the oranges and yellows of autumn. 

Man, it would be so easy to turn and run. 

You only considered it seriously for a moment, but the temptation was there. Running. Not from either of the men who had shown you nothing but love since you’d fallen together in a bar that no longer existed. Never from them. But from the day. From the promises you’d made, to keep it all under control. To have everything laid out so that they wouldn’t have a single thing to fret over. 

The devastation on Eddie and Volt’s faces was what shook the thought away at last. That utter, unrecoverable betrayal they’d be incapable of hiding when they strolled down their staircases and found no officiant awaiting them. No beloved livewire ready to tie them to one another for a lifetime. 

No, you had to face them. Had to face the mistakes and the slip ups you’d made that day. Face the poorly-hidden sighs and downcast looks that would come afterward, when the moment had slipped away and all that was left was to pick apart the remains of the event. When they would whisper assurances that they could never, ever blame their darling spark for the less-than-perfection of what was meant to be their happiest day. 

Take it on the chin, you decided. Go put on the fancy clothes you’d bought just for today. The ones— picked up days ago so that you could make sure they fit, unable to find time during the planning to schedule a full fitting for yourself— that would mark you blatantly different from your boys. 

You could picture it so clearly; Eddie and Volt paired in splashes of red garments that would have been mistakenly given to them alongside the crimson dresses, while you stood as the icy, cold division between them in the blue you’d originally chosen. The former objects who were less than kind or tended towards brutal honesty wouldn’t spare you their sharp tongues during the reception, to be sure. 

Selfish. You could hear it in Lux’s voice, in Errol’s. It would be hidden under a tease, a line about how heavenly you looked next to Eddie and Volt, but it would be there. Selfish. You let it run laps around your thoughts for a moment; tasted it on your tongue once. It felt wrong. It made you shiver. But maybe that was what all of this had been, anyway. You, placing yourself somewhere that you didn’t measure up; a jagged line through two beautiful signatures that twined together in perfect harmony for years before you’d stepped into their existences. 

Another selfish human. A dime a dozen commodity. Might as well throw you into the fridge that was once Freddy with the others; milk, eggs, and your self-centered soul, lined up on the shelf. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you let it drag you kicking and screaming away from your steadily spiralling thoughts so that you could smile over the image you found there. Alongside nearly two dozen other notifications that could wait until later for review was a photo of Dasha and Abel, smiling at the camera Abel held aloft while their bulky arms supported bags of flour and sugar that you could hardly imagine yourself being able to manage on your best day. 

At least this disaster could be solved. Would be solved soon enough, thanks to one of the best dynamic duos to come out of your adventures with the dateviators. 

Another round of purposeful, deep breaths, and you set off towards the main hall with your head held high. 

Thankfully, not another soul was in sight as you snatched up the hanger and bag straps from their shadowed hiding place among the unlit candles and garlands of flowers all perfuming the air with a sweet, herbal smell that laid nicely against the age of the manor’s wooden floors and beams. You could certainly hear the others, though; the bedroom boisterous with laughter and words you couldn’t make out, but could assign by its gentle, melodic rising at certain points that suggested an accent. The office, though much more subdued, carried three speeds of speech, one lively and bright, another punched and dramatized, and the last steady with a gentle rumble behind it. 

You smiled, and hoped Eddie and Volt could feel your vicarious joy seeping into their own from the floor above you. 

Dashing off to the first floor bathroom, you changed as quickly as you could, knowing that Dasha and Abel would be arriving at any minute. The instant that they got there, you’d have to explain what had happened, and would want to do your best to help them out, of course, which would sap the time you had left until you had none to speak of. 

The suit went on without any hassle, and you shoved your day clothes into the duffle bag with reckless abandon. Your fingers fussed with the silk tie at your neck, and by the third attempt that ended up in an awkward knot, you were just about ready to give up on the thing entirely. 

Eddie was the one who’d tied it for you the last time you’d had a reason to wear a tie. Volt had never learned— much fonder of open collars than constricting accessories— and you were, well, still a bit hopeless in that area. Meeting the objects had taught you a lot. A lot, a lot. Tying a tie? Not one of those things.

Which left Eddie. He didn’t explain it much then, but the first time he’d found you fumbling over a grainy YouTube video posted a decade ago, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Literally.  Supposedly, they’d been a more frequent piece of his wardrobe before the split, and that was all he decided to offer you on the topic. With a dexterity you’d only seen on heated nights in the house, he’d left you secured and tidy, a private grin on his lips as his touch lingered near your neck. 

You let yourself lean your weight onto the edge of the sink, staring yourself down in the mirror. You’d managed to tame your rowdy hair, mussed up from hours of physical and mental labor, into something fitting of the occasion, and even you had to admit that the suit fit you well. It clung to the dips of your frame and sat structured along the shoulders to give an air of confidence that you didn’t usually maintain. 

And then there was the tie. A deep blue that leaned slightly into a greener territory. Teal, Eddie had called it. Volt had argued it was more of a viridian or deep ocean. You thought that it resembled lightning over a midnight beach. 

It was the color that had been meant to accent the men it represented. The electricity still hovering in their veins that only showed itself in quiet moments between the three of you, curled around each other between whispered affections traded back and forth in the dead of night. Sometimes, you swore that storms brewed on the nights that got particularly frantic, like the two former bolts of lightning that you now called your own still held control over the untamable element crackling through the sky. 

On the perfect day you’d dreamed for them, they’d be wrapped in that color. It would bring out the vibrant blues of Volt’s eyes and the cool undertones in Eddie’s dark hair. 

Instead all it did was hang limply from either side of your neck. 

You splashed some water onto your face, working hard not to envision Eddie’s own when he saw you again. When you came crawling to him to help fix another instance of you failing to be everything you’d promised. Everything you thought they deserved. 

When you came up for air, you distantly acknowledged how much pressure that was to put on a piece of fabric. 

This was Eddie you were talking about. Volt’s Eddie. Your Eddie. Who pouted in his sleep and acted nonchalant when a vase of blooms straight from your favorite florist magically appeared on the dining room table any time you’d had a bad day. Who restored a house from nothing but bricks and studs for the little family you’d made together. 

This was Eddie; who you loved, and who loved you. More than either he or you knew what to do with some days. 

You pushed away from the sink and trudged up the grand staircase before you had the chance to rethink the action. With your eyes locked on each step, you found yourself moving mindlessly towards the office, led forward by Chairemi’s gleeful chirping about the new costume she’d demonstrated at work.

“Seriously, Eds, you’d be amazing as a pirate! If you don’t believe me, you should ask Volt or—” You tipped yourself against the door jamb, eyes still downcast as you folded your arms over your chest. It did nothing to hide the damning strands of fabric that shone violently against your otherwise all-black jacket, vest, and shirt. Chairemi exclaimed your name, hopping a bit as you glanced up at her before looking between you and Eddie and choosing that exact moment to steer Beverly out into the hallway by her shoulders. “C’mon, Bev, time to do our makeup!”

“I thought they hired someone for that?” Beverly’s confused voice drifted down the hall as the pair slipped through a door, though you were fairly certain they had just stuffed themselves into a deep linen closet, not the bathroom that was one more door down. 

Inch by inch, you managed to set your sights on your fiance. It took much more willpower than you’d thought it would, and you found yourself gnawing on the inside of your cheek even as he stared back at you with those pointed, gray eyes. When had they started being able to pry you open like this? They hadn’t had the ability back in the Breaker Box. No, back then, they’d been like metal doors, shielding you from seeing Eddie’s thoughts below the surface. 

“You’re avoiding us.” Eddie correctly guessed, leaning into his chair with his shoulders thrown back. As you stepped into the office properly, you were just able to see the little notebook you’d left him, spread open to a page half-covered in scrawled writings. Just as blue as the tie you wore. It would have been perfect. “Not like you to ignore Volt’s messages, by the way.” 

“I haven’t been—” You started, a touch too defensive for the room you were in, but caught yourself before you could finish, reaching down to check your phone again. Just under the old notification from Dasha, every single one of the now eighteen you’d left untouched had come from either Volt or Eddie. Mostly Volt, like Eddie had said, checking in on you or sending short reminders of how grateful they both were for everything you’d put into making the day ‘as beautiful as you were’, with Eddie only pulling away from your group chat to separately ask you not to leave your shared fiance hanging today. Reminding you that Volt tended to get worried about you and Eddie quickly. “Fuck.” 

“Yeah.” The man across from you huffed, laying his pen in the crease of his journal so that he could turn away from it and face you fully. “Need help?” He tipped his chin towards the tie, and you nodded, taking a few cautious steps towards him.

Eddie rose out of his chair slowly, drawing you in by your wrist to cross the last few inches he needed to reach your tie properly. As he laid the two sides of the accessory between his fingers, he flicked his eyes up from them to you. Continuing all the while, hardly needing to glance back down at his work. Show off. 

You couldn’t help but find your focus drawn towards the scarlet shirt making its way over the collar of the white jacket he wore. 

“Stop that.” He instructed, knuckles brushing over the soft skin of your throat as he flipped one side of the tie through the loop it made around your neck.

“Stop what?” 

“Looking at the red. It was an accident, spark. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You sound like Volt.” 

“He got it from somewhere, I guess.” Eddie snipped, though it was laced through the upturn of his lips that he kept forcing down into something more subdued. “I said stop, livewire.” 

His hands drew the tie’s knot up to the junction the buttons of your shirt created, traveling up the scant few inches until one hand could tap against your chin to lure your eyes back to his own. It was in moments like these you wished you had that same silent connection that he and Volt still had post-realization. You’d love to be able to read his mind now. But your rare moments of knowing what those storming eyes were trying to convey were failing you, and all you saw was the shuddering of his pupils as he took in each of your features one at a time. 

“The blue would have been nice on you.” Was all you could manage, blinking up at him.

“You wear it better than I would have.” 

Your expression twisted into something pinched, and Eddie stifled a chuckle by pressing his lips to your cheek. 

“Do you really think that me and Volt are going to remember today because of the color of the outfits?” He asked, his eyebrow raised until a near right angle had formed in the lightning bolt. You pursed your lips, and didn’t respond, earning another breath of a laugh that Eddie buried behind your ear. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“I just wanted it to be everything you deserved.” You mumbled under your breath. 

“It will be. As long as we get married in the end, it will be.” Another kiss was planted on your forehead, and both of his callused hands lifted to hold your face between them, forcing you to look him squarely in the eye. “Text Volt back. Or go talk to him. He’ll be too busy getting dressed now, but he’ll go crazy if he doesn’t talk to you before the ceremony.” 

Then he was pulling back, and you found yourself yearning for the touch to return immediately. As Eddie settled back in, continuing to write his vows down while the only evidence of him knowing you were there was the way he paused every sentence or so to double-check that fact, you let your gaze drift over the way the deep red laid against crisp white. 

He looked good. More than good, Eddie looked sinful. Confidant. Handsome. At home in the sharper colors. 

Maybe the blue would have drowned him after all, considering how regal deep red made him appear when cloaked in the midday light shining through the office windows. 

You took out your phone once you finally managed to pull yourself away from Eddie, and sent Volt several messages detailing that you were just fine, and you couldn’t wait to see how gorgeous he was when he came down those stairs. Just as you hit send, the device started to ring loudly in your hands, and Dasha’s shining smile practically radiated off of the screen. 

One mad dash to the kitchen later, you were ushering in two towering individuals carrying what had to be at least a hundred pounds each of ingredients. You felt a twinge of guilt for the puffs of flour dusting the shoulders and hips of their clearly expensive outfits, but it was erased the moment Dasha hauled you into her arms, lifting you to your toes in her hold. 

“Heya pardner,” Abel greeted with the tip of his hat as he laid the last bag of sugar onto the sprawling countertop. He pulled a dramatic wince once he noticed the middling little cake box, and whirled around to start riffling through the cabinets in search of mixing tools, “we’ll get ya taken care of, don’tcha worry about a thing!” 

“Won’t this take a while?” You asked once your feet were back on the ground where they belonged, standing back while Abel and Dasha moved around one another in practiced harmony. “I don’t want you two to miss the ceremony.” 

“You know I love the romance, милый мой, but in truth, we came for the party and the company.” She bumped her shoulder against Abel’s as he set the temperature on the oven to preheat. “Abel would have wept through it anyways.” 

You thanked them both profusely, and intended on staying around to help them out, but were swiftly brushed away the moment you tried to set foot within the tiled bounds of the kitchen. A quick check of the time, and a brief run-through of your schedule in your head— the paper version now abandoned in your duffle— and you were breaking out into an irrepressible grin. There was another gap. Just enough of a space before the ceremony and after the stylists would have left for the day to—

If you’d ever moved that fast in your life, you’d be incredibly surprised. The bannister of the grand staircase was in your hand in an instant, the cold feeling against your palm and the only sense you could tap into besides the ability to hear the handful of raised voices calling your name from the gradually populating parlor, just to realize it was a futile endeavor. Steps disappeared two, sometimes three at a time under your feet until you were crashing into the upstairs bedroom, hauling your momentum to a halt with a tight grip on the doorknob. 

The trio inside blinked triplet sets of wide eyes slowly at you, silence heavy until Rainey and Betty broke out into a fit of fond giggling. 

“Lookin’ for someone?” Betty teased, dabbing a touch of setting powder onto her cheek in the vanity mirror. 

You nodded, and looked sharply to where Volt was lounging on the bed, supported by one of the tall posters as he wrote purposefully in his journal, a larger notebook opened halfway through its pages next to him on the duvet as a reference.

“Vee—”

“Ah, so you do remember that I exist.” He interrupted, crossing a ‘t’ sharply as bright blue eyes remained glued to the words he wrote. Behind him, you watched Rainey and Betty freeze, glance at you, then one another, and twist to face each other as they continued their conversation in low tones. 

You shuffled your way to the side of the bed Volt didn’t currently occupy, tucking your legs up against your chest. He just kept writing, like you weren’t even there. Ouch. 

“Volt, I’m sorry I didn’t answer you,” his nose twitched in time with the phantom scowl on his lips, and if he were still in his old form, you had a feeling he’d be tinting blue at the moment, “I was just busy getting everything ready.”

“You were never too busy for Eddison and I before the wedding.” He let the journal rest on his lap, and faced you with a thousand waves crashing behind his eyes. 

A tsunami, just like you knew he could be under the charming surface he showed to the world. The storm was reserved for you, and Eddie, and those who dared to cross lines with either of you; in both its warm, comforting rains and its damaging winds. He didn’t hide either of them from either of you. You and Eddie knew that the sunlight that poured off of him could only shine so far before it exhausted itself. 

“I know.” You laid a hand on top of the sheets, as far towards him as it would comfortably go without stretching yourself over to him. “I wanted it all to be perfect. You and Eddie; what you have deserves perfect.” 

He scoffed, but those long fingers still found their way down to the sheets, inches from your own. 

“What we have, spark.” Volt emphasized, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “I told Eddison this might happen. You’ve been separating yourself from us, and using this ceremony as your rationale.” 

“Today is about you—”

“Do you not recall the pair of us on our knees, telling you how we could not imagine our love without you in it as well? We’re proud men, livewire, we do not sink so needlessly. You are meant to be ours today as well.” A chest-deep sigh pushed its way from his lips. “Currents know, we have certainly been yours for far longer. Today is not merely about myself and Eddison.” 

You tipped your shoulders closer to him. Just a bit. Just enough to stretch that distance closed. Enough to show him that you would. You would move. You would bend, for him. For the man who had once been able to expel all of his anxiety and fear and anger through the element that he was composed of, but now found it trapped in a human body that couldn’t contain all of the emotion roiling in his blood. Who was still growing into this life just like you were. You would do it. You would do anything. 

“I am yours, Volt. From the moment you gave me that booth in the bar. Since the second Eddie basically told me to go fuck myself.” Volt chuckled, and you allowed yourself a hint of a smile at the win. “All yours. Your livewire, who fucked up a bit today,” he leveled you with the same look he gave Eddie when he’d been caught falling into old, bad habits and working too hard, “okay, who fucked up a bit the last half a year. But I love you. And I’m sorry that I worried you.” 

Your fingertips slipped over the invisible line between you, wrapping lightly over Volt’s so that they could twine together. The feeling was familiar, but made you glow all the same. You’d always adored how well you fit together. 

“You look beautiful, by the way.” You added, reveling in the tightening of Volt’s hand around yours in an acknowledging squeeze. 

It wasn’t a lie. Volt was gorgeous on his own, but whatever the makeup artist had done to his eyes was a work of art. They were lined with this lovely red that paired wonderfully with his vest, and the color was beginning to grow on you the more you saw of it against pale and tan skin that you’d memorized every inch of. On anyone else, the style might have leaned too far into the realm of tear-swollen eyes, but in that same way that he always did— the way that lured you in and infuriated you all at once— Volt made it look ethereal. 

Of course, it was only made visible by the simple yet effective design his hair had been shaped into. Something must have been added to the white halo it had been that morning so that the underlying curl pattern made itself known, and besides the two thick pieces that flowed down by his cheeks, the entire upper half of his hair had been drawn back into a ponytail that sat high on the back of his head, leaving all of the long strands to flow in river-like waves over his shoulders.

All you could think of was how you were certainly going to a foul, foul place when you left this mortal plane. You had to be. Because all you could picture was how satisfying and delicious it was going to be later that night when you let those white waves loose from their hold, throwing their tie to the side as the last bit of clothing left to be discarded between you and the men you loved. 

“You’re staring, livewire.” He smirked, a sharp, toothy thing that made your cheeks burn. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought you ought to be more embarrassed about the fact that you’d been caught gazing at your boys for too long not once, but twice today. 

“If I’m as much part of today as you and Eddie, aren’t I allowed to stare?” 

“Clever little wire...” Volt drew out, tipping himself in with his free hand reaching up to trace along your jaw as he encouraged you closer to him—

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Rainey burst out, jumping up from where she had been lightly toying with her curls to haul Volt back by his collar. “You are not messing up your lipstick on my watch, mister!” She chided, and Volt visibly wilted in her hold as you fanned your face with a hand. 

“Sorry Rainey,” you smiled up at her expression, which turned smug at the sight of your flush, “got a little carried away.”

“Mhm, save it for the honeymoon, cuties.” 

Instead of a proper kiss, you laid your lips against each of Volt’s fingers, living for the sweet little hums of contentment he offered in return. 

“I’ll see you at the altar?” You asked, floating on the flirtation as you begrudgingly pulled yourself away from Volt, who nodded all the while with eyes that had lost their lightning and softened the longer they looked at you. 

“I can hardly wait.” 

While you could still prevent yourself from surging over the length of the bed to absolutely ruin every speck of makeup near Volt’s lips, you stepped out of the bedroom, and back down to the waiting throng. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the pop of vivid color at the base of the stairs formed by Holly, Prissy, and Maggie exchanging animated greetings between the three of them. 

“Girls!” You called out, earning their attention in a snap. The squeal they let out deafened anyone within a five row range, but you could hardly find it in yourself to care as you were yanked into the welcoming fray of dozens of friends brought back together under one roof.

After what felt like hours of reuniting with former objects, all of whom came prepared to regale you with stories from their new lives around the world— Johnny offered to fill in as officiant if needed, his Elvis getup in the trunk of his rental car, Hank Zero was a year old now, and toddled at Hank Five’s side for no more than ten minutes before she was being hauled up onto Hank Two’s shoulders, even Ben-Hwa siddled up to you to whisper about the salacious new toy they’d brought for you and the boys; it apparently hadn’t even hit the market yet— you finally caught a moment to check the time. Thankfully, and surprisingly, only half an hour had gone by.

It was time for the ceremony. 

You hastened yourself over to the grand piano, where Keyes had found herself naturally. You’d made your way to her earlier when you’d noticed it was your friend behind the keys, and she had simply informed you that the pianist you’d hired was too subpar for such an occasion. Apparently a wad of cash from a famous, more talented performer had been all he needed to abandon the event so that she could take his place. 

Though you wanted to groan over yet another item of your meticulous planning gone wrong, you had to admit that Keyes was as talented as ever. And really, you should have known better than to welcome so many individuals who were masters of their craft— by virtue of having been the tools built to practice them— and to expect them not to have opinions on your choices. 

“Keyes, it’s time.” You spoke softly to her, taking her acknowledging nod and shuffling your way to the central landing of the staircase. Stooping down, you plucked the journal you’d written your lines in from where you’d stashed it that morning among the archway foliage, and flipped through the first few pages until you landed on the one where your words started properly. You smiled down at the writing, allowing yourself to finally breathe. 

This was it. No more issues. No more worries. Just words on a page and you together with your boys, all of your friends around you. 

There was movement at the top of the stairs on either side of your peripheral vision, and the expanses of red you watched starting their way down towards you told you that the girls were starting their processional. In exact time with the music, Betty and Beverly led Rainey and Chairemi to the base of the staircase, where the floral arrangements gave way to rows and rows of tulle-draped chairs, now hardly visible behind the miraculously silent group watching the girls with pride in their eyes. Or tears, in some cases. Barry kept dabbing his away with a Barry’s Beauty branded handkerchief from the front row. 

You hardly could tell your own voice had risen up over the music. The only proof it even had was the growing shuffling sound as a hundred bodies rose to stand at once.

Another shift in the tune— something familiar, you realized that Keyes must have taken a flip through the sheet music you’d requested from the former pianist before she’d started, the air now filling with the kind of tune that would have played in the Breaker Box, now set to piano— and there they were. 

You wished you could watch them both at once, instead of taking greedy glances in each direction as Eddie and Volt descended from their rooms. But, as they neared the center, you understood just how fortunate a position you were in. After all, you got to watch them see the other for the first time. Got to be right there as they slowed to a stop on each side of you, smiling wide and a bit misty-eyed— you’d always thought it would be Volt who would be the crier, but you were proven wrong yet again today— until they looked at you, and the expressions doubled down in their intensity. 

For a moment, there was no one in this room but the three of you. For a moment, you, Volt, and Eddie stood both together and alone, and did nothing but take in the beauty of this place. The beauty radiating off of each of your lovers like sun rays after the clouds had parted. 

If you took that full, long moment before remembering yourself and your role here, that was between you and whichever deity watched over you. 

“You may be seated.” You called over the crowd. 

“We are gathered today to celebrate a connection unlike any other. A celebration that I think we all know was a very long time coming.” Eddie chuckled in time with a few light laughs from the crowd, and Volt ducked his head a bit as his cheeks went red. “Today, we celebrate Eddison Watts and our beloved Volt. Volt, Eddie,” you turned towards each of them, and your throat tightened as you blinked rapidly to fight back against the tears threatening even you now, “your love—” Volt raised an eyebrow, and you shook your head at his insistence on ensuring that you followed your word even here, of all places. Now, of all times, “our love, is the kind that people spend their whole lives looking for.” 

That, at least, made him melt back into the moment, brief frustration forgotten. 

“The kind that is bold. The kind that is quiet, that is safe, that is alive, and that is true.” The journal trembled in your hands, and you were silently thankful that your section of this was coming to a swift end soon. You weren’t sure you could bite back your emotions for much longer. “Eddie and Volt have once again chosen to do things their own way, and will be reciting their own vows. Eddie?” Phew. Finally. You tipped your chin up just a bit to keep your tears from making themselves known. Your journal closed against your fingers was just the grounding sensation you needed to keep yourself from getting worked up during the boys’ vows. At least, you hoped it would be.

“Volt. I’m pretty well-known for not being good with words, but I gave it a shot just this once. Just for you.” 

Oh, you were so fucked. 

“Before you showed up, I thought that life was meant to hurt.” Eddie sniffled. He wasn’t the only one. “I thought that every second that I was in pain, that it was meant to be there. For a long time, that was how I lived. I was all alone. In the dark and in the cold, with no one but the sound of my own voice in an empty bar when it all got to be too much to keep inside.” He laughed. Once, bitterly, and kept his eyes down to where the journal you’d gotten for him sat open in his hands. It was dotted with water spots. “And then, suddenly, there was you.”

“This- This bright light that was all the best parts of me, and more than me. This wonderful, magnetic, volatile energy that I could never dream of keeping contained and couldn’t imagine holding back once you were there, and I was alive again. I started living to make you smile. Then I was smiling for the first time in ages. Laughing at your stupid jokes. Your sense of humor is so cheesy, and I know that didn’t come from me.” Scattered laughter filtered through the crowd. You noticed Beverly in particular hiding a giggle behind her blue and cream bouquet. 

“And even when it started to hurt again, you were right there. By my side, even when I tried to keep it to myself. Keep it all together. Caring about me even when I did everything to push you away.” His eyes jumped up. Looked at Volt, looked at you, and he smiled as wide as you’d ever seen him. The kind of smile you couldn’t rein in. The kind that would look crazed to anyone who hadn’t seen the softer versions of it you and Volt were accustomed to. “You never gave up on me. It took me a while— longer than it should have— to realize that was what love was, even though you always knew. You always knew.” 

Eddie closed the journal, almost fast enough to hear it. He tucked it into his pocket, and took Volt’s free hand in his own. 

“I got it, Volt. I’m all caught up now.” 

You could hardly fault Volt for the way he bit down on his lips. In the back of your mind, you heard Rainey’s comment again about keeping his lipstick intact, and a spark of joy broke through the tears that slipped in hot streaks down your face as you watched a bit of it smudge just outside the line of his lips. 

“Volt?” You just barely managed, cueing the man who was still barely holding back open sobs. He wouldn’t last much longer, if you had to guess. You were surprised he’d gotten this far, considering how long the three of you had been waiting for this day to come. Considering what it meant for Eddie to be so raw and honest, in front of all these people. 

“Eddison, you are a terror.”  Volt started, earning a chorus of broken, wet laughter that overtook much of the gathered former objects. “You are complex, and guarded, and there are days when I think that I will never be able to understand you completely.” 

“Damn, alright.” Eddie joked, and Volt rolled his eyes, all smiles as he did.

“But I am the luckiest man in this world and any other, because I get to see what you let almost no one close enough to find in you. The man who is loyal beyond measure. The man who would push himself to the brink to do what he thinks is required of him. The secret smile that is difficult for any outside of our circuit to bring out of you.” Volt spared you a look, and you were quick to mouth an ‘I love you’ to him that spurred him on even more, facing Eddie with a squeeze of the other man’s hand between them. That wasn’t quite enough for him, though, and he stuffed his own notes into his pocket in a rushed move to take Eddie’s other hand, both now hanging clasped between them. A completed circuit. You couldn’t help but sigh dreamily at the sight under your breath.

“The laugh that is even more rare, but is still the most joyous sound to grace newly-human ears. I will admit to my faults, Eddison; I am brash, and loud, and a dreadful flirt. But there are no arms I would rather return to than the ones that I am so fortunate as to call home. My world spins to the beat of two hearts, and my life was made to lay itself bare in those hands. When I dream of forever, I see it in black and white, with sparks of indescribable color to light the way.” 

There was nothing more to be said. Nothing that could be said. Because what could ever be more beautiful than to watch the people you loved declare their own love for one another? 

And yet, you still had to be the one to speak up. The one to make it official, over the interspersed noises of varied emotions brought to the forefront by the sincerity of the moment. You could hardly tell which sniffling was coming from you, from Eddie, from the other recent humans. This was the loudest silence you’d ever had to end. 

“And now,” you tested your voice and, finding it suitable enough to continue after a quick cough, breathed through your next prompt, “you may present the rings.” 

It was the only detail you hadn’t handled. They’d been specific about that. You didn’t mind; after all, they’d picked out the engagement rings that you all now wore. According to Volt, Eddie had someone he intended on going to for these rings as well, and they both swore up and down that it was not a detail you needed to add to your plate. 

When the first of them appeared in Eddie’s hand, you understood why. 

The gold they’d been constructed out of was bright, and glimmered slightly in the light that entered the room from the large stained glass panes behind you. It existed somewhere between a standard gold and white gold; a burnished, antique sort of color that you knew would pair perfectly with the black and wood of the engagement rings. Carved lines cut jagged marks around the entire ring, and it wasn’t until Eddie reoriented it in his hand that you noticed the rounded carvings around the upper edge. An electric storm. The engraving of the clouds had even been filled with a thin line of silver, to mimic their color. 

They were just right. They were everything that encompassed the pair you loved. The softness of clouds, holding the strength of billions of volts of energy within them. It made your heart stutter in your chest, as if the tremor in Eddie’s voice as he spoke didn’t do that already. 

“I, Eddison Watts, take you, Volt, to be my husband.” He slowly slipped the band onto Volt’s finger, then threaded his own through the spaces between Volt’s. “Until we return to the immortal current of the world.” 

Volt produced an exact copy of his ring— maybe a size or two smaller— and grinned from ear to ear as he lifted Eddie’s hand. 

“I, Volt, take you, Eddison Watts, to be my husband. Until we return to the immortal current of the world.”

You were right. The gold was perfect against their engagement rings. Your heart clenched with the memory of that phone call, that night. The haggard look on Eddie and Volt’s faces as they dashed home just to share the moment with you. The skin-warmed metal ring being pressed into your finger by the little book that you held firm in your grasp. 

Eddie and Volt gazed at one another, and it wouldn’t take much to convince you that to them, there was not another soul in the world but those within a six-foot radius. For a beat, you let them exist that way; undisturbed in their far-off world. 

Just then, there was not a thing wrong with the day. The crimson accents of their wedding garb were lit like vivid flames in the light, a similar color brought out of them naturally where fly-aways peeked out of their tidy waves. With the original colors of the wedding surrounding them, red laid against the blue you’d chosen as though it was always meant to be there. Dasha and Abel were in the kitchen performing miracles, they would have finished long ago by the time the reception hit its scheduled moment for cake-cutting, and the air as the men you loved said ‘I do’ was scented with vanilla. 

At last; a perfect moment. To live in your mind and theirs for the rest of time. 

“By the power vested in me,” your throat felt so thick, you nearly stumbled completely over the very place you’d called home your entire life, “I now pronounce you husband and husband.” 

Volt rocked on his heels, shooting speedy glances between you and Eddie as if to goad you into giving him the go-ahead for the final step in the ceremony. A laugh striped the three words you could hardly keep from them for a moment longer. 

“You may kiss.” 

Though, when they did, it was much less of a kiss and more of a surge of electricity as they collided violently; Eddie’s fists knotted in the lapels of Volt’s vest so that he could haul the taller man down to his level. He was certainly full of surprises today, wasn’t he? Their kiss drew on for a handful of seconds after Volt's surprise softened enough to see him melting into it, one hand tucked under Eddie’s chin while the other pulled him closer at the back of his neck. 

Seeing them like this was a treasure. When all of their defenses were lowered until they were nothing but the gentle souls that you knew laid under layers of fear and protectiveness and everything they had come to know would keep each other safe from the weight that used to lay on their shoulders. This was them at their most beautiful— clinging to each other even as the need for oxygen forced them apart. 

Back in the Breaker Box, they could have continued like that for hours, sharing only the single puff of air between them. Now, they kept their foreheads pressed together, and Eddie whispered something you couldn’t hear over the rush of applause. Before you could blink, Volt was reaching towards you, catching your arm so that he could draw you into their orbit, his lips quick to find yours. A muffled sound of shock slipped out of you involuntarily, but you hardly had time to react between that instant and when Eddie was luring you towards him to kiss you firmly, hand tracing over your jaw like a work of art. Someone in the crowd whistled.

“You’re everything.” Eddie breathed against your lips when you parted. “Both of you.” 

“You’re so sappy today.” You teased back, pecking a kiss on each of their cheeks. “Only one thing left.”

“Ah yes, I’ve heard we have quite the gala awaiting us.” 

“Not a gala, baby,” you tapped a finger against Volt’s nose, watching it crinkle as his grin stretched further. Any more and you were positive he’d start to look like a cartoon, “a party.”

The realized objects had already begun filing out of the entryway, Beverly and Chairemi leading the charge with their bouquets held up high in the air as they shouted for everyone to follow them. Your glee dimmed as you watched them shuffle away, down the wrong hallway. It almost looked like they were going towards the—

“Spark,” Volt leaned down to purr into your ear, and you wondered when his hand had crawled over to your back without you noticing, “don’t mind them. Come with us.” 

Who were you to say no to that face?

Eddie and Volt’s hands slipped into your own, fitting just right against your palms as you were slowly walked down the staircase, and drawn off to a set of rooms that you had previously prepped to be able to handle the flow of people moving in a slow tide through them towards the reception hall. 

‘Hall’ was a bold word for what it was, really. From what you’d seen of it, the space was merely an unused dining room. Cleared of all furniture prior to the day, it stretched on long enough to easily hold the people who once occupied your house and then some. Though, when you arrived, you anticipated finding it stuffed to the brim with the clamoring friends and loved ones, moving to the steady beats played over speakers by the DJ while the incredibly specific bartender you’d hired poured whiskey sours and electric daisies until the entire crowd was a bumbling mess. 

The very last sight you expected to see was the reception hall just as empty as you’d found it when you’d arrived that morning; every speck of furniture removed save for the small table that had been propped up close to the main entrance. On it was nothing more than a pitcher of a sparkling drink, three of your specially-chosen glasses, a tray of various baked goods still steaming with heat, and a familiar pink box with a knife set to the side. 

“I don’t understand,” you whispered into the echoing room, “where is everyone? Where is everything? This was supposed to be your reception, I made sure—”

Eddie tapped a fingertip against your lips, replacing the contact with a brief press of his lips instead when your expression soured over the act. 

“Enjoying the reception. In the garden outside.” 

Your brain stuttered as you moved through the list of rooms you’d reserved for the day. The entryway, of course, the bedroom and office and kitchen, this one; basically the entire manor had been set aside for you and the boys today. All except for—

“Johanna said the garden was already booked.” You whispered, feeling an odd combination of worry, confusion, and frantic energy mixing in your gut to form a storm unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Each breath you took, you could feel swirling in your lungs. No, no, no, everything had wound up going so well. The wedding had been so beautiful, it couldn’t end like this. And the objects being out there when the space was technically owned by someone else for the night? Oh, you could only imagine the fees and the headache and—

“Of course it was, darling. We were the ones who reserved it.” 

“You what?”

As Eddie laid his hands over your cheeks, Volt stepped just behind him, looking just as pleased with himself as he had the first night you’d set foot in the bar inside your mechanical closet. He smoothed his own touch over your hair, laying the few strands that had gone astray from the rest back where they belonged. 

“When you found this place, you were already up to your neck in planning for today.” Eddie explained. “We knew that you were focused on making everything right for us, and you were already starting to leave yourself behind. Just like you did in the old house.”

Your jaw dropped open to retort, but you found yourself recalling the days you’d spent tracking down Davi, calling in favors for Keyes, reporting back on homelands to Gaia, on and on. You’d done it all without thinking twice, sometimes falling so intensely into Betty at the end of the day that she’d comment on it when you saw her next. It was who you were. A giver, a sacrificer, the one who took it all in stride in the name of supporting the people you called your friends. The people you’d come to love. How could you have done anything less for the pair you’d chosen to spend your life with?

“Can you truly fault us for wanting to ensure a private moment with the one we love? After everything they gave for us?” Volt interjected, chin tucked over Eddie’s shoulder and eyes made wide so that they might buy him a moment of believed innocence. 

The answer was clear. And the answer was that you couldn’t. Not for a moment. Not when you’d shown yourself to be exactly who you’d always been, even to your own detriment. Your arms wrapped around as much of both of them as you could manage, tucking them up against your chest while they pulled you in close to their own until the three of you were a tangled mess of limbs standing in the center of an empty room.

“I put this entire day together,” you began, muffling your voice in Volt’s collar, “and you two managed to show me up in five minutes.” A huff of a laugh forced its way out of your lips, and you shook your head against the soft fabric and skin under it. 

“It was all we ever wanted, spark.” Eddie assured, his hand tracing patterns into your back. At least, you assumed that was his hand; it was hard to tell where each of you began and ended at this point, consumed by the presence of one another without any other eyes to be felt on you but your own. “Thank you.”

When you finally disentangled yourself from each other, the world stood still. 

On the other side of the far wall, you knew that the other objects would be having the time of their lives. Alive and in one room again for the first time in years, able to celebrate all that they had done and become since being realized. It almost made you wish that Franklin and David had been able to join you today— instead of being stuck in their responsibilities halfway across the country— to see all that had become of the people the former’s invention had brought to life. To see all the happiness that he’d brought into the world, not only for the objects now living and breathing among people, but for the one who’d worn the glasses in the first place. For you, who never imagined having all that you did now because of them. 

Standing back a few steps from Eddie and Volt, you extended your hand to the pair of them, fingers spread wide in what you hoped was a passing enough imitation of a certain former fusebox’s gesture to spark the memory. 

Volt laughed loud, so much so that it echoed against the wooden walls, and Eddie rolled his eyes. Too bad for him, his barely-there smile gave him away regardless. 

“Care to dance?” You asked, lowering your voice until it nudged against the rich timbre of Volt’s, and with a hint of a put-on accent that you’d gotten surprisingly good at over the years. It was the man himself who took it first, allowing himself to be pulled close as Eddie hung back with arms crossed over his chest. 

“You two know you don’t have any music, right?” Eddie called out, you and Volt already spinning through the room in a series of languid movements. If they lacked grace on your part, neither of them chose to comment on it, especially not when— after a few minutes had slipped by with you never further than an arm’s length from Volt— Eddie stepped in to take his turn with you. 

The way you two moved was much less involved; more of a slow sway than the near-waltz Mr. Three-Year Hollyween Masquerade Dance Competition winner had basically dragged you through, but it was everything you needed. After what the last six months had put the three of you through, it felt like what Eddie and Volt had needed, too. 

Just this. Just you. 

Hours later, when the cake that had started off as a mistake had been cut and nearly completely devoured— the three of you realized quickly you had barely eaten that day— the pitcher of some bubbly, sour cocktail approximating a whiskey sour had been drained, and a third identical, symbolic golden ring sat on your own hand, the three of you sat together. 

Your head rested against Eddie’s shoulder while Volt sprawled across both of you, his hair let loose from its styling and fanned out over your thighs so that your fingers could slide through it in slow strokes. 

“I love you both.” You murmured into the air, not fully trusting your vocal cords that you already knew would be sore in the morning. 

“And we love you, livewire. Even when you try to work yourself to death.” Eddie pressed into your temple.

“Stones, glass houses.” Volt mumbled, giggling sweetly. 

“At least I have you two there for when I do.” 

“You do. And we have you.” Eddie lifted your conjoined hands to lay one confident kiss right over the wedding ring you shared with the two of them. “Always.”