#hemlock allows it because he’s too stressed to think clearly

[autumn-opossum]

I’m sad today so if tonights episode could please just be happy and great and fine that’d be swell thank you

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

Deep Breathing | Erik A | Trial 3.3 | Re: END, Erik, Adrik things

Erik A had been planning to ignore it when END had mentioned it the first time, but now that he was being asked directly, his state in the petting zoo being brought up again, with Erik asking after him as well… he sighs, frowning as he looks away to not have to meet anyone’s eyes. 

“...I was stressed about the motive and the next round approaching soon, because the person up to vote other than Ae-ra’s brother was my sister. And I… I didn’t speak up about it being Sarah, so I knew people would end up voting for her. That’s why I didn’t bother coming to the next round either, you know…? Figured I’d delay the inevitable as long as possible while I got the skunk smell sorted out instead.” 

What more did he truly have to lose, beyond a little shock of punishment? His sister’s future was already about to be sabotaged, wasn’t it? There are so, so many ways that could be done, and the thought was perhaps slightly more terrifying to him than he’d been letting on.

“Part of why I didn’t speak up was because I didn’t want to put more stress on Ae-ra and make her do something rash, if she thought there was a chance that people would do what they did the last time my sister was up. When this motive first started and she was panicking alone, I tried to talk to her about it and calm things down, but I could tell she wasn’t receptive to anything I said. She was taking it really badly, even when her brother wasn’t up for voting. 

…I don’t know if she even thought about it, but I told her about my sister back then, and she should have been able to realize who the other person was, with the description they gave. But anyways, all that’s another part of why I tried so hard to find her this morning, after she stopped responding to the group chat. And I already admitted to failing on that.” 

He’d told Ae-ra about the abuse and that he’d confided in his sister about it, about being roommates with her for years. And whether she had realized it or not, Erik A had done just the opposite of all of what Ae-ra had said on the group chat, about an older brother caring for his sister above all else. He had actively made the choice to allow the person he was closest to in the world be harmed if it meant that Ae-ra wouldn’t be pushed to do something that would hurt someone else and herself alike…  

But clearly, somehow or another, that hadn’t been enough to stop her from dying anyways. So walking in after the body announcement, and seeing her body in that room… Well. No matter how casual he seemed about it all externally, that didn’t mean it hadn’t still hit him like a brick to the face.

“I don’t want to think that Ae-ra would try something despite everything I did or didn’t do. Even if it’s too late to change whatever happened, whether she tried something with that rope she was seen near the source of or wrote those letters, or… anything else, I hate the idea that she might have tried it for probably the same reasons you do, END.

But I know I’m not responsible for her choices, that she’s her own person who can make just as many decisions as anyone else for the better or worse, and I know there’s a very real chance that she might have anyways. So… that’s why I’m trying to follow the evidence, I guess.”

He’d said possibly a little more than he original meant to, about his own thoughts during this last day and now, but it was too late to take that back now. Instead, he shakes his head to clear it some, and shifts to a different topic.

“Anyways. Yeah, I can confirm that the rock in the closet Erik and I share is from the gacha and not the greenhouse, and the one KOKONE used way back. And I think that makes sense for what the rock in the pool was about, actually, since any residue from it being used to crush up the hemlock would have been washed off in the pool water. But as for the third party person being unrelated, just walking in on the case where they somehow killed each other… I don’t think that’s possible, for a variety of reasons.”

  “First, we know that the hemlock poison would have taken 40 minutes to kill Arakiel, while he’s both at a larger body size and probably got a smaller dose, given he uses the poisoned needles on himself only after it was already used on Ae-ra, with who knows what portion of the poison even left. So pretty much, we could be looking at Ae-ra dying significantly faster than even 30 minutes potentially, but we don’t have a way to know for sure. 

What we do know though, is that the two times of death were 47 minutes apart either way, which is more than it would have taken even Arakiel to die, so I highly doubt that it was Chen that killed Ae-ra, even if she potentially could have caused some of the bruising on her legs if she was trying to… struggle against her, I guess. Not to mention, I don’t think someone just… found the bodies and didn’t tell us, especially since the couch cushion that was damp on the front side but had likely what seemed to be Ae-ra’s smeared makeup on the underside implies that someone who was wet tried to suffocate her with it, either before or after injecting her.”  

He sighs, running a hand down his face as he thinks before he lets it fall. He should probably say something about Adrik being looked at with suspicion, huh…?

“As for Adrik… well, I’ll admit, they ARE suspicious as hell with the places they’ve been, and I wouldn’t use intelligence as an argument one way or another here, but I don’t think they had anything red on them that would have ended up under Ae-ra’s nails, and I’m not sure I buy that being some kind of chemical reaction unless more than just hemlock was used. Can attest that the chemicals in they had in our room were all unopened also at the start of this invest, too.”

Hopefully that would help them out for now, though he can admit the thought of them finding a way to do this was… well, not something he’d let anyone else know his thoughts on.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Vargulf |Roman Godfrey

Summary: There have been another set of murders in Hemlock Grove and all the evidence is pointing to it being another vargulf. Your brother Peter, your boyfriend Roman and yourself are all on the hunt for it so that the deaths come to a stop.

-

You listened quietly, sat on the sofa in your little old caravan as Peter and Roman spoke. There had been deaths, a dozen or so. They were murders, of boys and men. None of them seemed to have a strong link that connected them. Death wasn’t unusual in Hemlock Grove, but most of this evidence wasn’t adding up.

“It’s a fucking vargulf, I'm telling you man." Roman was clearly stressed about the situation, they had already dealt with one sick werewolf. And now another was ripping male anatomy off, letting them bleed to death. It couldn’t have been more inhumane. 

"Shee-it, I think you're right." Peter raked his hands through his hair. Christina had became a werewolf because of him, and now someone else decided to proceed with the transformation. It was always a risk for a newcomer into wolf territory, they had already been sick enough to turn themselves into a monster.

You frowned. Christina had been a nice girl, and it made you think that this new Vargulf could be disguised as anyone. "How are we supposed to find it?" You hated the thought of having to search for a blood thirsty monster, but it would be the only way to stop it.

“Bait.” Roman answered, coming to sit down beside you. Peter only shook his head in thought.

“We can’t do that, at least not yet. We don’t know why it’s targeting these guys.” Roman only smirked, and then commented.

“Then we’ll just have to find a way to piss it off.” That would be difficult, seeing as none of you knew who it was, but Roman did a pretty good job naturally at annoying people. His rich boy attitude got to everyone.

“Great idea, and then you’ll get killed.” You said, rolling your eyes at his stupidity. “Maybe it’s after revenge of some sort, it might know the victims.”

“Well there’s a wide gap between all of them, so we can’t be certain.”

…..

Destiny stiffened from where she stood leaning over the table that held a newspaper. The paper detailed all of the recent deaths, the ones the assumed vargulf had committed. She looked at Roman in particular. 

"Can you clear your mind Godfrey, your thoughts are distracting." This only built confusion in Peter's mind. How could ones thoughts be that loud. "

“What's he thinking about?" Your brother asked, opening his blue eyes to look at Destiny. It was bugging her enough to implement her magic.

“You don’t want to know.” As she said that she looked in between of you and Roman.  His imagination was very vivid, too much for her liking. It was creating a barrier in the room so that she couldn't access the things that the pair of boys had missed in their freaky dreams.

 "Is it relevant?" Peter held out hope. They couldn't miss a trick, even if it was of the mind. There could be a clue, a detail of aid, something that could point them in the right direction to search.

 "No." Destiny cringed, not being able to help seeing Roman's desire to have his hands all over your body. You were her cousin, she didn't want to see the intimacy that was strung between you and your boyfriend. That was for you too alone, but it was Godfrey's fault for keeping it replaying in his mind.

 She knew she'd regret it, but she searched as Peter had wanted her to. And then she saw it, on your naked body. Roman clearly hadn't noticed it, his mind was too preoccupied with the thought of fucking you. But there was a scratch, running down your side. It looked as though it was given by another wolf, a viscous one that had turned on its own kind. 

“Maybe.” Then your cousin turned, looking at you. “Lift your shirt.” When you hesitated, she did it for you, seeing the mark against your skin.

As she looked, so did you and the others. It was a wound, thinly dug into the skin but still there.

"What happened?" Roman asked quietly. He really hadn't even noticed it when he had been thinking about the nudeness of your body bit now his eyes were trained on it.

"I don't remember." You frowned.

Peter came closer, inspecting gashes in your skin. They weren't just cuts, they were claw marks.

The vargulf did this. It had to be it.

…..

It was a dead end. It all was. The pattern was broken for there was another body, and it was a girl. The first girl to have fallen victim to the vargulf.

Peter throws the newspaper onto the coffee table, Roman staring at it with beady eyes.

It held no answers, it only threw you all further off track. Perhaps there were no answers. Maybe it just wanted to drain the blood from the humans by clawing at their necks.

"This doesn't make any sense!" Your boyfriend exclaimed, reaching into his coat pocket for a cigarette and a lighter.

He lit it, taking a deep drag to calm himself. You wished it was that easy for you, but it really wasn't.

"When does anything make sense in this town?" You asked rhetorically.

Although you werent seeking a counter response, you received one from your brother anyway.

"Go on." He gestured with both his voice and hand, taking a cigarette from Roman.

"Maybe it isn't supposed to make sense." You suggested, snagging a cigarette. You refrained from lighting it until your point got a cross. "I mean Christina killed because of different emotions. She was sick, and angry at her so called friends, and jealous of Letha. Perhaps this is the same."

The mention of Letha Godfrey dulled the room, but opened a chance for some optimism in the case.

For all any of you knew, you were right. There was a murderer, but it's intentions were not clear yet.

…..

Shelley aimlessly wandered her family's grounds, admiring the beauty in nature. The roses were just beginning to bloom from the bushes, their frames hardened by the sight of protective thorns.

Out here, away from the world, it was quiet. Peaceful. There was no one to make judgements about her, or a reason to feel insecure. Like the roses, Shelley's appearance was toughened by thorns. No one liked the spiteful pricks but they tolerated them for the flower.

The girl continued to walk, but stopped once she had a twig snap. The sound was not the doing of either of her large feet.

Looking up, she saw a beast she had ran from before. A white wolf, watching her with its yellow eyes.

It was truly beautiful, but danger poisoned its aura. The animal tilted its furred head, licking its black lips before trotting through the hedges, presumably returning to its den in the woods.

Once it was gone, she went inside of her imprisoning home, rushing to the kitchen, the private one where her mother was smoking a cigarette.

"There was a wolf in the garden." She typed out, allowing the machine to talk for her.

Olivia hummed in reply, flicking the ash from the tip of the fag.

"It is a wild animal dear." Her voice was clear. "Let it do what it must to survive, even if it means crossing out land in the meanwhile."

This confused Shelley. Any other time, her mother would have called in a hunter to shoot the pest dead.

But not this time.

…..

A man rapped his fingers against the door of Godfrey manor, well aware of the badge that was tucked in his pocket. In response to his knocking a woman came to the door,slinking her slim and long frame upon the case of the doorway.

Olivia Godfrey. He had heard of this woman. Fierce. Beautiful. Enticing. Extremely wealthy. Dangerous.

There had been whispers in the woodwork of the town of her being the cause of missing persons. It seemed absurd to suspect a widow of such horrors, but she was not just a mourning wife.

She was a mother, not only to her children but to an extraordinarily large company. It was known as the white tower, but it held no purity in its blank walls. Only secrets in hidden rooms and a whole team serving away at her whim of command.

The front door opened, revealing a middle aged woman, glorified in a lacy black dress, unashamed of how she appeared to the stranger. Olivia could see his badge that was attached to his belt. It was clear that she had glanced at it, but she brushed her hair away from down the front of her shoulder and focused back on his face.

“What can I do you for officer?” She was suspicious of his presence, she leant against the door, making sure he was unable to peak inside of her home. But at the same time, she could not be seen as the villain. She had done nothing wrong anyway, or had Olivia had some involvement?

“As I’m sure, you have heard of the recent deaths.” Olivia’s cheeks hollowed and her arm trailed down her body and pulled the skirt of her dress down.

“Such a shame.” She admitted she had, shaking her head in pity. The investigator nodded his head in agreement, having felt the loss of the young lives when going over each piece of evidence of the victims.

“There has been word of people seeing a white wolf - again. You haven’t happened to see it prowling your grounds by chance, have you?”

Olivia furrowed her brow, thinking tentatively. “I can’t say that I have.” She answered, watching as hope fell from the stranger’s face.

“Would you call the station if you hear anything? As soon as we get a sighting, we’re going to put a bullet through the beast.” It almost sounded like a threat in Olivia’s eyes, but she knew it wasn’t. This man was scared of the dangers that hunted in nature, and was now creeping into the town and murdering humans.

“Of course I will.” She smiled at him, Once he turned and began walking away from her house, she shut the door, peaking through a window before returning to her guest, “Where were we?”

She discarded of her robe, as Norman sat on the couch, with a glass of scotch in his condemning hands.

Shelley lightly stepped back up the stairs, confused by her mother’s truth. Only mere hours prior she had told her mother of what she had seen in their large garden. A wolf had been looking at her, and then ran back off into whence it came. The woods.

Olivia had lied. But why?

….

A young man lay on the metal table, with ambient lights reflecting down onto his fatal wounds. Price took note of the individual teeth marks that were visible in his skin. He had heard of werewolves, via Olivia, who had told him of the pest that Peter was.

He was fine, examining the body in complete silence, other than his recorded points, but he shouldn’t have expected it to last. At least not in the Godfrey Tower.

The door to the private space was slammed open, by none other than the heir of the company himself. Roman. He had no regard for manners, Price thought. He did as he pleased, although he wasn't inherently to blame for that, he was raised under a roof where he was taught that was acceptable. 

“Is that the last victim?” Roman had to ask, he could never be sure with Price’s experiments. 

“You shouldn’t be here Roman.” His voice was monotone, unsurprised from the boy’s intrusion. It definitely wasn’t the first time that he had just waltzed into his workspace, that was for sure. Price sighed, looking at the teenager who was peering at the large bitemarks in the corpse. “Why are you here, did your mother send you?”

“No, I need answers.” He only earnt a shake of the head from the scientist.

“This matter is confidential Roman, I can’t tell you anything.” It was a part of the code that he had taken. This was business elevated in the roles of silence, and he wasn’t supposed to share the details that he had found or would find.

“Please.” It was a foreign word for him. “If that thing is out there, and it is a vargulf, the cops aren’t going to know how to stop it. But me and Peter can, so if you discover anything that could remotely help, you have my number.”

A knock came on the door. “Sir, there’s an officer here to see you.”

Price turned to Roman, looking at him with nervous eyes. “It’d be best if you left Roman, we don’t want you getting yourself into any further trouble.”

Huffing, Roman took one more glance at the body, sporting a disgusted expression as he did so. He was eager to find this mutated, sick werewolf and end it, not only for his family’s safety, but for the creature’s own mercy.

…..

Roman walked through his door way into his bedroom, throwing his black coat to the floor. But when he looked up his bed wasn’t empty, you were seated on it, sporting one of his shirts and a worried expression.

“Where were you?” You stood, slowly gliding over to him, reaching up to cup his face. He was visibly tense, it was easy to see that his back wasn’t completely straight and his cheeks were puffed out from his vigorous breathing.

“Went to see Price, who is fucking useless like usual.” He went and sat on his bed, which you joined him on, stroking his tense shoulders. “He’s not even paying mind that it's a vargulf, how fucking dumb can one person be?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want you involved, because if you go headfirst into this mess, there’s a chance that Shelley will be pulled into it eventually as well. He cares about her, and in his own, silent way, about you too.”

Roman let the corners of his plump lips turn up at your words. “You really do know how to cheer a guy up, don’t you?”

At that you smirked, leaning closer to his porcelain ear, whispering into the suggestive canal. “Honey, there’s plenty of ways that I can cheer you up.” You tugged his earlobe between your teeth, prompting a growl to spark from his mouth.

“Get to it then Romaneck.” You shoved his shoulders from the front so that you had room to straddle the tall boy.

“Gladly.”

…..

When you awoke, Roman was still asleep, softly snoring into the pillow whilst his nude body was covered by the white duvet. It brought a smile to your face to see him so relaxed, with the vargulf on the loose, he was stressing again. He thought he had to find it, that it was his responsibility to keep the whole town safe from any mythical threats.

But it wasn’t. He deserved to be a teenager, have no worries about the fact that you lived in a mobile home in the middle of the woods, or the fact that one day someone would try to hurt you or use you for what you were.

Groggily, you got up, making sure that Roman was still covered so that the cold wouldn’t wake him up. You went to the bathroom attached to his bedroom to brush your teeth, but you paused that thought as you  looked into the mirror to see a part of you had somewhat aged.

A streak of white was in front of your face, it was a large section of your hair. This needn’t have worried Roman, and so you manoeuvred yourself out of his room quietly as to not wake him, and hurried down to the kitchen where you were met with the woman of the household sat, stirring her tea.

“Sweetie.” She gasped dramatically at seeing the strands. She stood walking towards you and taking the hair between her fingers. “We can fix this before anyone sees.” She reassures you, guiding you to the bathroom, grabbing a gold box from under the sink.

“Were you anticipating this?” You asked warily, watching as she emptied the (Y/H/C) dye into a small bowl.

“Of course I was, we have to delay this. You know what, after we sort this mess, I will arrange an appointment with Norman for you. He’ll help.”

She got a dye brush, and began combing the colour through your blank piece of hair.

To the both of your dismays, neither of you had heard Shelley coming down the stairs and into the kitchen. It was untimely, and unknown to the pair of you.

…..

The scientist gripped his tweezers, plucking the ounce of evidence from the body. From initial sight, he could tell that the lost hair that he had discovered was human, and the complete opposite colour from the dead boy’s. His actions were glorified through speech as he recorded his process, ending with a full stop to complete his sentence.

He would have to get it analysed, so that the owner could be uncovered, and the monster behind the murders revealed. Once he removed his gloves, he took a hold of his cell phone, and called someone that he felt indebted to.

“Roman, it’s Price.” That was his opener, quite simple for the information that he was about to reveal. “I found a human hair on the body, belonging to another that is not the victim. I’m getting it tested, I will let you know the result later, once it has been processed.”

As he put the phone down, the door to the room was opened, by none other than the wolf that walked upon the sheep. “Yohan.” She greeted him broadly, and so he replied just as dryly.

“Olivia.” His voice drawled out her name, unimpressed with her timing. A Godfrey always managed to show themselves at the worst times, perhaps it was on purpose. It was in the majority's nature to be filled with the thrill of darkness and deceit. 

“A little birdy told me that you found something on the body...” She didn’t clarify whom said snitch was, but she dragged her manicured hand along the counter, until she came to the see through bag that contained the single (Y/H/C) hair.

“Olivia, I cannot let you take that, it’s evidence.” He tried to reason with the woman, but he should have realised that that would have little to no affect.

Instead, she rose thin eyebrows at the man, and put her foot down with her ample excuse. “Is this not my company Price?” She used the power spell of control, and before he could divulge that her ownership only came through marriage, and that Norman and Roman were the true heirs, she was gone.

The evidence went with her.

…..

The site of the caravan was an alienated space to Olivia, yet she still walked through the dead leaves and mud in her heels, until she reached the hammock, which you so happened to be seated in.

“It is done (Y/N), and now you can continue working for me, and earn yourself a little money.” She sat beside you on it, making it sway. “This was never my intention, to get you sick, I told you that you could stop anytime little one.”

She stroked your hair, resting her head upon it stoically. It was a strange exchange of contact for her, but she found herself not minding it. “We can try and get treatment for you though, to either delay or erase the aftermath of your  forced transformations.”

At that you finally spoke up. “I don’t trust Price.” Yet somehow you trusted Olivia herself... “And that would be unnatural. Running off into the woods as a completely wild animal doesn’t sound so bad anyways, it would be like starting a new life and leaving this one behind.”

Your confession saddened her just a little. “If that is what you want, but I will tell you this now. I liked you the second that my son brought you in that door, you were better than any of those other girls that he dragged in for pleasure. He was enamoured with just the sight of you, sitting there at the kitchen table, thanking the butler and laughing with his sister.” 

That would be one thing that you knew that you would miss. Roman. And then also your brother, Peter. But they could survive without you, they were both strong. They had moved on from Letha, so they could do the same with you.

…..

Roman frowned when his phone call with Price ended. “It’s gone, our lead is no more.”

At his statement, Peter spoke up from where he was seated at Roman’s bedroom desk. “Surely it couldn’t just disappear.”

“It didn’t.” Was all Roman said before he stormed out of his room and began rushing down the stairs, to see his mother just walking in the front door. “You.” He accused her.

“Me?” She acted offended, placing a hand above her heart.

“You took the evidence of the vargulf.” Price had told him as much. The man had seen it with his own eyes, she couldn’t lie her way out of this one. Nothing said that she couldn’t dodge it though.

“It’s been pleasant to chat boys, but I have an appointment with your uncle.” And with that, she had retreated back through the front door.

Roman turned as he heard Shelley walking down the stairs, closest to Peter.

“Go back to your room Shells.” He sighed, annoyed with the fact that they had hit a dead end. But Shelley made no attempt to move, instead she took the tablet out in front of her.

“I’ve heard mother speak, I know who the vargulf is.” Both of their eyes went wide. Maybe they didn’t need to interrogate Olivia after all.

…..

The man in uniform, that had started his career on a peculiar case rapped his knuckles against the gypsy’s door. This far out into the woods, someone would have been bound to see something.

The line was still faded to whether it was a person or an animal. But he was determined to find the truth, because no matter what was at fault, people were still dying.

The door opened, revealing a teenager with stark white hair. “Can I help?” Your legs bounced as you leant against the door frame. Your body was itching to transform again.

“Are your parents in?” At that you shook your head, thinking about the fact that your father was no longer in the picture. That made Peter the man of the house, the dominant one. You’d show him...

“No, but is there anything I can do to help?”

The inspector got out his notepad, preparing to scribble on it with any information that he could extract from you. “Do you know anything about the deaths? Like, have you seen a wild animal lurking around or such?”

With that, you stepped away from the door, allowing him space to enter, to which he did. “I’ll tell you everything that I know.” You smiled.

Or maybe you could show him.

…..

Peter ran to his home after getting out of Roman’s car, seeing the inspector’s body mauled in the doorway, blood falling down the steps. But the body wasn’t alone, the wolf - you, were growling from inside the caravan, your newly white fur smeared with marks of red.

“(Y/N)?” Peter cautiously spoke. They had wanted to find the vargulf, but not like this. It was supposed to be someone else, not his sister.

You had no response to the name, but your head perked up at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice.

“Baby, it’s me. Roman.” He took a couple of strides forward, even though Peter had tried to pull him back. You tilted your furry head, slowly leaving the caravan and walking towards Roman. “Hey, it’s okay.” He told you, and you sniffed his hand, nudging it with your wet nose. “We can get you help, fix you.”

Roman pretended that he wasn’t crying, and went to kneel down in front of you, but Peter stopped him, triggering backlash from you. He had grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him up, and in a quick motion, you bit Peter’s hand.

Blood was drawn, and you were spooked, and so you did the only thing your wild mind though to do. Run, deep into the forest, away from the pests that thought that they could treat you like a domesticated animal.

[thelastspeecher]

Best Revenge AU - Junior

I’m still working on the ficlet in this AU that is Angie-centric and has stuff showing her relationship with Max, her divorce, and when she starts dating Stan.  But ever since I decided to create a new kid for this AU, I’ve been unable to stop thinking about said kid.  So here, have some origin story for Stanley Junior.

——————————————————————————————

              The front door slammed open.  Angie stormed into the living room, where Lute and Stan were waiting for her to come back.  After finding out Max had cheated on her, she had immediately gone over to trash his place.

              “Feelin’ better?” Lute asked gently.  Angie looked at him for a moment, then burst into tears. “Angie?”  She ran off.

              “What just happened?” Stan asked.

              “I don’t rightly know,” Lute said.  He chewed on his lip.  “Maybe it would be fer the best if you went to talk to her. She might not want to talk to her brother.”

              “I’m on it.”  Stan got up and went down the hall, coming to a stop in front of Angie’s bedroom.  He cautiously opened the door.  Angie sat on her bed, her head in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.  Stan took a seat next to her.

              “You all right?” he asked.

              “N-no.”

              “What’s wrong?  I woulda thought you’d be happy after trashing your ex’s house.”

              “I prob’ly would be,” Angie said, wiping her tears away, “if I wasn’t…”  She took a shuddering breath.  “If I wasn’t pregnant.”

              “You’re- but we haven’t knocked boots!”  It was something Stan was a bit disappointed by, but he was fine with waiting until Angie felt comfortable being intimate.  “How could you-”

              “It’s Max’s,” Angie whispered.  Stan stared at her in horror.  “Seems- seems like he got what he wanted.  I was ‘bout a week or two along when I left.”

              “I thought you were on birth control.” Stan’s eyes widened.  “Unless he fucked with your pills.”

              “He didn’t know about the pills.”

              “Then how-”

              “Birth control can fail.”

              “Are you- are you gonna keep it?” Stan asked quietly.  Angie closed her eyes.

              “Nothin’ against folks who decide to- to terminate a pregnancy.  It ain’t my business what they do.  But I- I can’t do that.”

              “You’re keeping it.”

              “Yes.”  Angie put her head in her hands, sobbing again.  “I’m- I’m sorry!”

              “Why?”

              “‘Cause I love ya so- so much, and ya won’t stay with me.”

              “Hold on.”  Stan held up a hand.  “When did I say that?”

              “You-”  Angie stared at him, her bright blue eyes filled with tears.  “Yer not goin’ to leave me?”

              “Nope.”

              “But I’m pregnant with another man’s baby.”

              “So?” Stan said with a shrug.  “Angie, this is the best relationship I’ve ever been in. I’m not gonna throw that away.  You mean everything to me.”  He reached for Angie’s hand and squeezed.  “I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

              “But-”

              “And…”  Stan looked down at the ground.  “Honestly? I’ve wanted to be a dad since I was a kid.  This just means I’ll be a dad sooner than I thought.”

              “You won’t regret it?” Angie asked.

              “I’d regret it if I left.”  Stan kissed the top of her head.  “I’m not going anywhere, Ang.”  Angie pulled Stan’s face closer to hers and kissed him sweetly.

              “I love you,” she whispered.

              “Love you, too.”

-----

              Stan landed in the backyard of Angie and Lute’s house.

              “Mind the flowerbed!” Angie called from inside. Stan quickly shut off his flames. “Thank you!”  Stan walked in through the back door.  “In the kitchen!”  He headed for the kitchen.  Angie was nervously stirring a pot of something on the stove.  Stan walked over to her and kissed the top of her head.  “Are ya excited?”

              “To meet your parents or to finally get all the baby stuff outta my apartment?” Stan asked.  Angie swatted him playfully.  The day after Angie told Stan she was pregnant and keeping it, Stan had gone on a bit of a spree, stealing things from numerous baby supply stores. Angie didn’t mind it, but insisted Stan not steal from small mom and pop stores.  However, because she had wanted to wait to tell her family about the pregnancy, the baby supplies were stacked up in Stan’s apartment.

              “Thank you fer bein’ so flexible on me not tellin’ my folks ‘til now,” she said softly.  Stan shrugged.

              “You’re the one who’s pregnant.  I’m just following your lead.”

              “Well, I’m officially in my second trimester, so now’s the time to tell.”

              “Are you showing yet?”

              “I literally showed ya yesterday.  Do ya really think I’d have started showin’ overnight?”

              “Well, you gotta get the bump at some point,” Stan said.  Angie chuckled.  She lifted her shirt to reveal her stomach.  It was a bit bigger than before, but didn’t look evidently pregnant. “Nope.  Not yet.”

              “I ain’t that surprised,” Angie said, lowering her shirt.  “I ‘member my Pa sayin’ that my Ma didn’t look pregnant until her third trimester fer all the kids.  Well, all of ‘em ‘cept me ‘n Lute, since we were twins.”

              “Yeah, you’re pretty small.”

              “Doc says that the lil bean ‘ll prob’ly be small, too.”  The doorbell rang.

              “I got it!” Lute’s voice shouted from somewhere.

              “Still can’t believe you managed to keep it secret from him,” Stan whispered to Angie.  “Not only is he your twin, you literally live together.”

              “Lute’s been walkin’ on eggshells ever since I left Max,” Angie said.  She turned off the stove.  “He’s very careful to not pry into my personal business, since Max was so controllin’.”  Footsteps sounded.  The front door opened.

              “Ma, Pa!” Lute said happily.  “Angie’s in the kitchen.  I ain’t sure if Stan’s got here yet or not.”  Lute entered the kitchen, a man and woman close behind him.  The man looked like a carbon copy of Lute, while the woman looked exactly like Angie, with one major exception.

              Angie clearly got her dad’s nose.  Wonder if the kid’ll get it, too.

              “Angie!”  Angie’s parents promptly pulled her away from the stove and into a hug.  “Oh, it’s so good to see ya,” her father cooed.  Her mother looked Angie up and down.

              “I see ya fin’ly put some meat on yer bones,” her mom said.  Angie turned red.

              “Ma!”

              “No, it’s good,” her dad said firmly.  “You needed it.”  He smiled at her.  “You’ve always been so tiny.”

              “Maybe it’s ‘cause she ain’t stressed from livin’ with that turd what pretended to be a husband,” Lute groused, leaning against the counter.  Angie kneaded her forehead.

              “Lute…”

              “I’m allowed to call him that.”  A sudden melancholy fell over Lute.  “He was my best friend long ‘fore he was yer boyfriend.”

              “I know.”

              “So, are ya goin’ to introduce us to yer new beau?” Mrs. McGucket cooed.  Angie grabbed Stan’s hand.  He gave her a reassuring squeeze.

              “Ma, Pa, this is my boyfriend, Stanley Pines. He works with Lute, but has a day job sellin’ used cars.  Stan, these ‘re my parents, Sally ‘n Mearl McGucket.”

              “Pleasure to meet ya, son,” Mr. McGucket said, holding out a hand.  Stan shook the offered hand, forcing a smile.  The two southerners seemed like a regular farmer and his wife, warm and gentle. But Stan knew that Mrs. McGucket was actually the infamous Sirocco, his own mother’s archnemesis, while Mr. McGucket had regularly interfered with local government as the villain Hemlock. “I got to say, I’m glad my lil girl fin’ly found herself a proper villain to date.”

              “Pa,” Angie whined.  Mr. McGucket chuckled.

              “I’m just teasin’, junebug.”

              “We’re so happy yer in a good relationship,” Mrs. McGucket gushed.  “Ya had a clean break with Max and can start over.”  Angie took a deep breath.

              “A-about that…” she started.  Stan looked at her, surprised.

              “You’re gonna tell them now?  I thought you were gonna wait until after dinner.”

              “No.”  Angie took another breath.  “I just- I just want to get it over with.”  She looked at her parents.  “Ma, Pa, I’m pregnant.”  Lute slipped from his casual lean, falling to the floor.  Mr. and Mrs. McGucket stared at Angie in shock.

              “O-oh,” Mrs. McGucket mumbled.  Mr. McGucket swallowed.

              “Angie, we try not to pass judgement on you ‘n yer siblin’s lives, but you’ve only been datin’ Stan fer a few months.  To become pregnant with his child-”

              “It’s not Stan’s,” Angie said quickly.  Mrs. McGucket covered her mouth, her eyes wide in horror. “It’s Max’s.  I didn’t know it, but I was a couple weeks along when I left.”

              “Shit,” Lute swore, getting to his feet.  His face contorted with rage.  “He- he just had to get the last word, didn’t he?”

              “Yer keepin’ it?” Mr. McGucket asked softly. Angie nodded.  “I see.”  He looked at his wife.  “Sally?”

              “Yes, dear.”  Mrs. McGucket took Angie’s hand.  “Come with me, sweetling.  I need to ask ya a few questions.”

              “Okay.”  Angie allowed Mrs. McGucket to lead her away.  Stan and Lute looked at Mr. McGucket, confused.

              “What’s that about?” Stan asked.  Mr. McGucket took off his glasses and polished them.

              “We were plannin’ on havin’ Sally ask Angie a few questions in private, due to the sensitive nature of her breakup with Max.”

              “You mean-” Stan started.  Mr. McGucket nodded and put his glasses back on.  Lute frowned.

              “What?”

              “Your mom is asking Angie if her ex-husband beat her,” Stan said flatly.  Lute’s jaw dropped.  “He didn’t, by the way.  Angie’s told me everything that her dick of an ex did to her.  Max treated her like she was made of glass and tried to control her near the end, but he didn’t lay a finger on her.”

              Except for when he tried to keep her from leaving and grabbed her hard enough to bruise.  But Angie had sworn Stan to secrecy in that regard.  She knew her family would go scorched earth if they found out, which she didn’t want.

              “Stanley, she might still be uncomfortable tellin’ ya somethin’ that she’d feel more comfortable tellin’ her mother,” Mr. McGucket said gently.  He glowered. “Especially…”

              “What?” Lute asked.

              “With this new information ‘bout Max gettin’ her pregnant, we have to consider the possibility that Angie didn’t…”  Mr. McGucket closed his eyes.  “We need to make sure Angie consented to the events what caused her to get pregnant and that Max didn’t, ah, counteract any attempts Angie made to prevent a pregnancy.”  Lute shook his head.

              “No, Pa.  Max, he- he turned out to be a real poor excuse of a person, but he wouldn’t have done anything like that to Angie.  And if he’d even tried, Angie wouldn’t have tolerated it.”

              “Hon, yer sister is very strong, but strong people can find themselves strugglin’ in a sit’ation like Angie was in,” Mr. McGucket said.  “I also don’t think that Max would have done that to Angie.  But we can’t ignore that possibility.”

              “It’s smart,” Stan said after a moment.  “Gotta cover all your bases.”

              “Yes.”  Mr. McGucket looked at Stan carefully.  “So, yer fine with raisin’ another man’s child?”

              “Yep.  Angie and I talked it out ages ago.”  Stan grinned, glad for the change in topic.  “I’ve already started stocking up on stuff for the kid.”

              “Yer the one what burgled all those baby stores?” Lute asked.  Stan nodded. “Where have ya been puttin’ the stuff?”

              “My apartment.  But now that you all know, I can finally start moving it here.  Thank god.  I can barely see my bed.”

              “Y’know, if yer goin’ to be with Angie fer the long haul and help her raise her child,” Mr. McGucket said idly, “maybe ya should just move in with her.”  Stan stared at him.

              “Pa, Angie’s the one who should offer that, not you,” Lute said, rolling his eyes.  Mr. McGucket chuckled.

              “Yer right, yer right.”  He clapped Stan on the shoulder.  “Are ya excited to be a dad?”  Stan’s grin broadened.

              “Yeah.  I am. I know it’s gonna be tough and stressful, but I’m looking forward to holding the kid for the first time.”  Mr. McGucket beamed.

              “That’s what I like to hear.”

              “What a coincidence,” Angie said.  Stan turned.  Angie and her mother had returned.  She smiled at Stan.  “That’s what I like to hear, too.”

-----

              “It’s a boy!” the doctor said.  Stan looked over.  The newborn in the doctor’s arms was tiny and covered in body fluids Stan didn’t want to think about.  The doctor handed the baby to a nearby nurse.

              “Hey, uh, where are you taking him?” Stan asked. Angie chuckled.

              “Stanley, relax.  They’re just cleanin’ him up,” she said wearily.

              “Oh.  Right.” Stan grinned at Angie.  “Got caught up in the moment.”  Angie laughed again.

              “What time is it?” she asked.

              “Uh…”  Stan checked his watch.  “Two in the morning.”

              “Geez.”  Angie yawned. “No wonder I’m so tired.  I was in labor fer ten hours.”  Angie had gone into labor yesterday afternoon, prompting Stan to call out of the bank job he was supposed to help with.  “Is yer hand all right?”

              “I’ve had worse,” Stan said.  He’d been by Angie’s side throughout the labor, providing his hand for her to squeeze when she had a particularly bad contraction.  “So, was this a good labor or-”

              “It went about as smoothly as it could,” said the nurse, who had come back with the baby.  “Honestly, I haven’t seen a labor and birth this free from complications in a while.”

              “Good,” Angie said sleepily.  “Is my boy ready?”

              “Yes, he is.  Here you go.  He’s perfectly healthy.”  The nurse carefully deposited the baby in Angie’s arms.  “I’ll give you three some time to get to know each other.”

              “Thank you,” Angie said.  The nurse left.  Angie carefully parted the folds of the blanket, revealing her son.  “He’s so beautiful,” she whispered.

              “He’s really tiny,” Stan said.  “Are babies always that tiny?”

              “Newborns are usually pretty small, but this lil feller is definitely smaller ‘n average,” Angie answered.  She stroked her son’s cheek.  The baby shifted slightly and opened his eyes.  Stan smiled.

              “He’s got your peepers.”

              “He might not.”

              “Uh, he’s got blue eyes.”

              “Sometimes, babies are born with blue eyes, only fer the eyes to turn brown later on.”  Angie smiled. “He’s got the fam’ly nose, though.”

              “And he’s bald.”

              “Mm-hmm.”  Angie’s eyes slowly closed.  “He’s perfect.”

              “What are you gonna name him?” Stan asked.

              “Shh, later,” Angie mumbled.  Stan carefully took the baby from her.  He kissed her forehead.  Angie smiled.

              “Get some sleep.  You’ve earned it.”

-----

              “Stanley?”  Stan opened his eyes.  He looked at the hospital bed.  Angie was awake.

              “Hey, babe.”  Stan stretched.  After Angie had fallen asleep, she’d been taken from the delivery room to her own private room.  Stan had set up camp in the chair by her bed and fallen asleep.  “How are you doing?”

              “Less tired.”  Angie looked around.  “Where’s the baby?”

              “I had him go to the nursery so we could both get some sleep.”

              “Ah.  Smart.”

              “They asked what his name was, but I didn’t know what you were planning on, so they just put him down as Baby McGucket.” Stan grinned.  “Which, honestly, isn’t half bad of a name.”  Angie laughed.

              “It wouldn’t be the weirdest name in my fam’ly. But it ain’t the name I’ve got in mind.”

              “What is?”

              “You’ll see,” Angie said with a grin.  Stan chuckled.

              “Making me wait.  I see how it is.”  He stood up. “Be right back, I’ve gotta go pee.”

-----

              When Stan got back to Angie’s hospital room, she was holding the baby.  Stan walked over to her bed.

              “Yer middle name is Stanford, right?” Angie asked him.

              “Uh, yeah.  Fuck Pops for doing that to me.”

              “Love, there ‘re young ears in hearin’ range,” Angie said gently.  “No swearin’ ‘round the baby.”

              “…Right.”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  “Why’d you need my middle name?  Oh, I was gonna sign the birth certificate.”

              “No need.  Birth certificate is all done,” Angie said.  Stan frowned.

              “But who’d you put down as the dad?”

              “I left it blank.”  Angie looked down at her son in her arms.  “I didn’t- I know that yer happy to be raisin’ this lil bean now, but I didn’t want to chain ya to a child what ain’t yours.  Just in case.”

              “Ang…”

              “I don’t want ya to feel trapped,” Angie said quietly.  Stan’s eyes widened.  He put his arm around her shoulders.  “I’ve felt that way.  I wouldn’t wish it on someone I love.”

              “You’re too good for me,” Stan said.  Angie managed a watery chuckle.  “If I’m not signing the birth certificate, why’d you need to know my middle name?”

              “Well…”  Angie smiled. “Hold out yer arms.”  Stan did as he was told.  Angie carefully handed the baby over.  “Meet Stanley Stanford McGucket.”

              “Wh-”  Stan stared at Angie.  “That’s- that’s my name.”  Angie nodded. Stan swallowed.  “It’s- it’s a good name,” he choked out.

              “You’ve been there fer me through all of this.  It’s the only name what feels right fer the lil bean.”

              “I…”  Stan stared down at the baby named after him.  “He really is a little bean.”  Angie laughed.

              “I was thinkin’ we could call him Junior. He ain’t Stan Pines Junior at the moment, but if we get married, he will be.  And since yer already named Stan…”

              “Yeah, I’d be pretty confused if I heard Lute say he changed Stan’s dirty diaper,” Stan said dryly.  Angie laughed again.  “You’re in a good mood.”

              “I’ve got my two boys with me.  How could I not be?” Angie asked.  Junior shifted in Stan’s arms.  Stan smiled down at him.

              “Hey, bud,” he whispered.  Junior watched him curiously.  “I’m not the one who got your mama pregnant.  But I’m the one who’s gonna take care of you.  Got it?”  Junior giggled.  “Good. Glad we’re on the same page.” Stan sat down in the chair he’d slept in, still staring at Junior.  “Sweet Moses. I’m- I’m a dad.”

              “Only if ya want to be,” Angie said.  Stan looked at her.

              “I just told Junior that I’m gonna be his dad.  He understood.  You didn’t?”

              “All right, all right,” Angie said, holding her hands up in surrender.  “All right. Yer a dad.  Yer Junior’s dad.

              “Damn straight.”

              “Language.”

              “Right.”  Stan settled back in his chair.  “These isn’t the Halloween I had in mind, but-”

              “Pardon?”

              “Ang, you went into labor yesterday, on October 30th,” Stan said.  “Today’s Halloween.”  Angie burst into laughter.  “What?”

              “It’s just- I was born on April Fool’s Day.  It feels appropriate fer my son to be born on Halloween.”  Stan held up a finger.

              “Nuh-uh.  Our son was born on Halloween.”  He grinned. “I’m gonna throw Junior the best birthday parties.”  A comfortable silence fell.  “I kinda like how quiet it is right now.”

              “Don’t get too used to it,” Angie warned.  “My entire fam’ly is headin’ over.  It’ll get loud real fast.”  The door slammed open.

              “Where’s my new nephew?” Lute crowed.  Angie looked at Stan.

              “See?”