Chapter Text
The party has quietened down considerably since Secondo led his drunken entourage into the grounds. Terzo turned off the speakers and pulled a Ghoul towards the piano to provide slightly less overwhelming background music, then flopped down dramatically on the nearest sofa with a glass of red wine and has remained there since, watching the Siblings around him as they chat or dance. The two friends you came with disappeared into the crowd an hour ago, so you sit alone in an armchair, listening to the piano, wondering if you’re the only person in the room still sober. Your decision not to drink has not been a controversial one, thankfully, and your reasons have been respected by everyone curious enough to ask. You were offered juices and mocktails, which you happily accepted. Your sobriety seems to be rare amongst the attendees, at least this evening, though, and you struggle not to resent the fact. On one hand is your respect for your friends’ autonomy, your belief that their choices are their own and that there’s nothing wrong with drinking, so long as they’re safe. On the other hand is your deep discomfort whenever you have to interact with drunk people – they’re less predictable, emotions changing in the blink of an eye, and with every drink they get louder until they’re practically shouting in your ear. When you lost track of your friends, it had felt like a blessing – they’re safe at a crowded Ministry party, and now you don’t have to try to follow along with a half yelled, half slurred conversation that they won’t fully remember tomorrow anyway.
Now, though, you’re not sure you got what you wanted. Really, you think, you should just get up and leave. If you’re no longer having fun, there’s no reason to stick around. Even though the loud music was turned off a while ago, your ears are still ringing. Your head is starting to ache. You know you’ll feel better if you go take a shower and lie down in your own bed. You’re not sure why you’re not standing up to leave. You tap at the game of solitaire you’ve had open since the last person you were speaking to left to get a drink and didn’t return. Everyone else around you is deep in conversation; no one will notice if you get up and leave. You can do so without having to say goodbye.
Terzo looks your way and smiles. You smile back, but he furrows his brow slightly in response. Great. Your face isn’t obeying you. Whatever expression you just made, it evidently wasn’t quite a smile. All the more reason to get up and leave. No social battery left, no point in staying here. You look back down at your phone, moving the virtual cards around aimlessly. Someone laughs harshly behind you and you wince slightly, your shoulders hunching just a little further inwards. You risk a brief glance back at Terzo – a Sibling has sat down next to him, or rather practically on top of him, and though you can’t see his face you can tell he’s at least humouring their advances by the directions his hands are wandering. You look away, at the Ghoul playing piano, the candlelight glinting off their mask as they bob their head. Your jaw aches – you realise you’ve been clenching it. You try to stop, but the muscle won’t listen to you. Your shoulders are tight too, pulled up too high. You shift in your seat, trying to get comfortable, but your body just won’t relax.
If you didn’t have your phone in your hand, you wouldn’t be able to say how much time was passing. You look down: 10:09pm. The Ghoul at the piano beckons another Ghoul over, and they begin a duet, something vaguely 50s if you had to guess. 10:12pm. Secondo reappears, this time without the tie he had been wearing when he arrived. He shouts something incoherent, and you hear Terzo and the Sibling on top of him laugh. 10:16pm. You dig your fingernails into your hands, leaving crescent moons in your skin. You observe the clear pathway to the door, and think about taking your leave. 10:21pm. Secondo laughs loudly from outside somewhere. Terzo and the Sibling have disappeared. 10:23pm. Sister Imperator pokes her head round the door, stern-faced, then leaves again. There’s an ache behind your eyes. 10:27pm. Terzo reappears, alone, rubbing his eyes wearily and smudging his facepaint. 10:32pm. A Ghoul sits on the arm of your chair, and slurs something unintelligible. You force yourself to laugh. They laugh back, then look at you expectantly. You look around helplessly. They get up and join the two Ghouls at the piano. 10:40pm. You taste blood, and realise you’ve been picking at the skin of your lips.
“Caro,” Terzo’s voice startles you. He’s leaning against the back of your armchair, and you twist round to face him. He looks at you, drumming his fingers against the plush red velvet. Belatedly, you realise you haven’t said anything. You open your mouth to say hi, but nothing comes out – by the time you’re pushing out a sound, he’s already speaking again. “Do you want another drink? Primo made a good choice with the wine – oh, you’re not drinking – scusa, I forgot.”
“I’m good,” you say.
“Huh?” He raises a hand to cup his ear. You didn’t think you were talking that quietly.
“I’m good,” you repeat. He nods.
“How are you? You’ve been sitting here alone for a while – Sister Natalie’s outside with, ah, I forget the other Sister’s name – the shy one with the freckles…”
Sister Olga, you think. Natalie introduced her to you last week, at breakfast. She’s new.
“Do you remember?” he asks. You shake your head. You don’t know why. “Ah, no matter, she’ll forgive an old man his poor memory. Seems friendly.” You nod. “Oh, I was wondering – Omega was telling me about this book he was reading, and he mentioned you’d read it, too, something sci-fi, written in 19…” His words are lost in the sound of laughter as a large group of Ghouls enter the room. You shut your eyes, and when you open them, Terzo is looking at you, eyebrow raised. He says something you can’t make out. The piano Ghouls seem much louder than they did before. The room is hotter than it was before. There are definitely more people. You dig your nails into your hands again.
“Um.” You start.
“You feeling alright?” Terzo asks.
“Yeah, yeah, fine,” you say. Why did I say that?
“Hm. Well.” Terzo looks around the room and then leans down closer to your ear. You can smell the wine on his breath, sweetly stale, and you move your head away. He looks offended for a moment, but then suddenly his eyes widen. “That looks painful.” He gestures towards your hands. You look down at the pock-marks, the little dents your nails have left. You don’t reply. “Right, well, I was going to head back to my room. If you’re not having a good time, which… it seems you’re not… then, ah, I’ll carve a path through the crowd and you can follow me out, si?” You nod. He nods back, and straightens up. He walks in front of you and puts out a hand to help you up, which you accept.
Somehow he escapes the party without anyone stopping him, managing just the right balance between apologetic and firm when saying goodbye to those who notice him leave. You trudge behind until you’re both outside in the mostly empty hallway. He turns to you. He looks at you for a moment, head cocked to one side.
“You good, caro?”
No. No and I don’t know why. You nod, and smile. At least, you think it’s a smile. It’s hard to be sure.
“Tired, hm? So am I. Time for bed, I think. Sleep well!” He smiles, waves, and walks off.
You walk slowly back towards your room, frustration setting in fast. Your phone says it’s 11:26pm – why didn’t you leave an hour ago? Why didn’t you tell Terzo you were feeling overwhelmed? He would have understood, you’re sure. You hit your right fist into your left hand, shake out the pain, then do it again, and again.
“That can’t be comfortable.” You turn – you hadn’t heard anyone approach. The Ghoul before you has their mask slightly askew, and their shirt unbuttoned to the middle of their torso. “You doing OK there?” It takes you a second, but you recognise his voice.
“Aether?”
“Yep. Seriously, are you alright?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.” The words are out before you’ve even thought about them.
“Hm.” He fixes his mask and starts to button his shirt. “Party got a little wild,” he says by way of explanation. You shove your hands into your pockets. “Delta got completely hammered and… well, anyway. Walk with me?”
Where? You want to ask. Instead, you nod. You follow Aether down the hallways and outside into the cold night air. He talks the whole time, voice soft but insistent, about the antics of the other Ghouls in rehearsal last week, Terzo getting frustrated with Dewdrop and Cowbell… He doesn’t ask any direct questions, and leaves just enough space for you to reply without allowing the silence to stretch into anything noticeable. Eventually, you find yourself laughing, and for the first time in hours it’s genuine.
You’re far away from the Ministry building when Aether’s tone turns more serious.
“So… I have a theory about what was going on back there, but I’d rather hear it from you than jump to conclusions.”
“Oh. Um. Just not feeling good, I guess.” You shrug.
“That much was obvious,” Aether chuckles.
“I don’t… I don’t really know what was happening, to be honest,” you admit quietly.
“Thought as much,” Aether sighs. “Alright, well, shall I tell you what I observed?” You nod. “You spent a lot of that party just sitting on your own, and your face was pretty much unemotional the entire time. I thought you might just be tired, but then why not just leave?”
“I couldn’t,” you say. “I don’t know why. I just couldn’t.”
“Yeah,” Aether replies. “Definitely a shutdown then.”
“A what?”
“Shutdown. Some of the Ghouls get them – it’s an autistic thing. You – you do know you’re autistic, right?” He glances at you, and you see his eyes are wide.
“Yeah,” you laugh. “Don’t worry, I know.”
“Alright, good,” he relaxes. “The Ghouls don’t have the same, uh, hang-ups that you lot do about this stuff. Humans don’t always take kindly to it being pointed out, especially if they haven’t realised it yet.”
“I know,” you say. “Can… can Ghouls be autistic, then? I kind of assumed… I don’t know, Sister says you’re completely different from us, but…”
“Ugh, ignore her,” Aether says. “Yes, we’re different, but we’re not that different. We get all the same… brain stuff… that you do. Plus some extra, to be honest. Several Ghouls here are autistic. I mean – I shouldn’t tell you who, that’s their business. Not that they’d care that much, but… whatever. Point is, I’ve seen other Ghouls go into shutdown, and I know roughly what tends to help.”
“Shutdown,” you repeat. “Like… like a computer shutting down. You know what, that is kind of how it feels sometimes.”
“One of them described it as their body and their brain sort of disconnecting,” Aether says. “They’re uncomfortable, overstimulated, upset, whatever. And they want to leave, or to ask for help. But no matter how hard they try to will themself to move, their body just… stays there. That Ghoul literally can’t move, at all, when it happens. One of the others can, but only small movements, like they can stim, they can walk if someone directs them, but they can’t… take initiative, I guess. They can’t just leave of their own volition.”
“I was playing Solitaire,” you say. “On my phone, I mean. I could do that, but I couldn’t get up.”
“Right,” Aether nods. “Even though you wanted to leave, and no one was stopping you. Were you able to talk, in there?”
“Yeah,” you say. “But… it was weird.” You hesitate, unsure. Aether just waits. “I… I could speak, but it felt really difficult. Half the time I couldn’t say what I wanted to say, either. Papa asked me if I knew someone’s name and I shook my head even though I did know. And… and you asked if I was OK and I said yes even though it wasn’t true and I don’t know why I lied. I wasn’t trying to. And I couldn’t… I mean, if I had wanted to start a conversation, to like speak without someone already having asked me a question, I don’t think I could have done.”
“Yeah, I know someone who gets like that. I ask him if he’s hungry, he says no, even though I can hear his stomach growling louder than Dewdrop at his alarm clock. That’s how I know for sure he’s in shutdown,” Aether laughs. “Alright, so… does Papa know? Actually, stupid question – if you didn’t know, how would you have told him? Sorry. You two seem close, though, so maybe it would be good to tell him.”
“What?”
“You and Papa Terzo. You spend a lot of time together, and he’s obviously fond of you.” You feel your face grow hot. “Don’t worry, I know it’s not like that,” he laughs. “But he’d want to help, if he knew what was happening, I’m sure of it.”
“I think… I think I offended him,” you say. “He was talking to me and I couldn’t process half of it and then… I don’t know, I wasn’t able to talk to him properly. He’s… he’s seen me lose my words completely before, but this time I could speak, but I couldn’t … do the conversation.”
“All the more reason to talk to him, then,” Aether responds. “Explain what really happened, then you know he knows you weren’t being cold towards him on purpose, and he can help you next time.”
“OK…” You stop. “I don’t know what would help, though. What do I tell him?”
“Well, you’re not in shutdown now, right? You’re talking to me normally, you’re asking questions, not just responding when you have to to seem normal or whatever. All I did was the same as I do for the other Ghouls – well, part of it. I didn’t know how you’d feel about physical touch. One of the others hates it, finds it makes them panic. Another finds it grounding, so I just play with their hair until they come out of it naturally. But all of them – so far, at least – find it helpful if I talk to them, or even just talk in their vicinity, without expecting them to reply. So yeah, I just talk. That seemed to work for you.” You nod. “Great. Terzo can talk about movies and stuff for hours, so if you tell him that helps he’ll be more than happy. Now, obviously if one of the Ghouls is in an overwhelming environment I need to get them out of there or fix whatever’s got them in shutdown in the first place – usually that means telling the others to shut up for a minute, or like… well, it’s happened on tour sometimes, like in a bar on a day off, or even after a ritual. If they can handle being touched, I usually just guide them outside or somewhere quiet. If they can’t, it’s trickier. Sometimes just touching their clothes works. Or telling them to hold onto me instead of the other way round. Once it was so bad I had to get the other Ghouls to like form a barrier around someone who just straight up couldn’t move, until the crowd had finally gone and we could help them out of the shutdown slowly where we were. But… well, Papa was there at the time, and he helped. He was patient. He distracted the crowd so that we could comfort our friend, and then stayed with us until we could get them back to the hotel. So I know he’ll be patient with you.”