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wretchedwitchpussy · 16 days ago

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WWDITS 6x01 "The Return of Jerry" rewrite/fix-it fic

Rewrite of 6x01, I used the actual script in some parts to carry plot and so that the actual structure of this project resembles the structure of the season, but 90% of it is rewrite. I am planning on rewriting all of season 6 as God intended, with fully fleshed out plot lines carried over from seasons prior to season 6, and character/relationship development. I'm trying to make this as true to what they tried doing without it sucking so bad, meaning that structure (ie Cannon Capital, Jerry, will stay as points, but they're used to further the plot and relationships of characters instead of just. Being there. And then getting thrown away) Basically I'm just trying to fix everything I'm pissed about. I'm trying to stay pretty true to the tone of the show though. This will integrate past plot points like the extra djinn wishes, the Guide being a bamf sex freak, as well as Nandermo+Guidja canon. I also think Guidor as a cope could have been fleshed out better as a precursor to Nandermo. I'm also planning on doing Guillermo is an EV as well as Nandor turns human via djinn wish so stay tuned. I promise this will make sense. I'm eventually planning on publishing this on ao3 when my invite gets accepted.

tags/cw: Jerry desperately wants the Guide. Colin fucks the Guide also. The Guide is getting crazy tail. Nandor and Guillermo are kind of a divorced bitter couple who don't know how NOT to hurt each other yet bc like. Duh. They've been bad at communicating and they've hurt each other. NADJA AND LASZLO DON'T RANDOMLY FUCKING HATE EACH OTHER AND ARGUE? Also Guillermo lives in the house so he doesn't freeze and piss in a bucket? But they leave him alone (boundaries), Angst, also some silly, mentions of sex/some sexual content, generally setting up exposition, I don't really know how to do tags bc it's my first fanfic n I wrote this at 3am. Spot the raven cycle quote and you get a cookie. If you know me irl no you Don't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another night had fallen on Staten Island. In the library of the vampire’s mansion, Nadja read, Laszlo smoked, and Colin Robinson coughed in intervals, breaking up the silence–much to the chagrin of the other two. Many nights passed this way, the three of them relaxing together in amicable silence. At the sound of rapidly approaching footfalls from the foyer, Laszlo opened his eyes and looked towards the door to the library disinterestedly. The door slammed open, and Nandor walked in briskly.

“My god, man, what’s the matter?” said Laszlo.

“What’s got your knickers in a tickle?” said Nadja. She grinned toothily at a camera, evidently pleased with her wordplay.

“I…happened to be in the foyer,” said Nandor shiftily, eyes flicking to a camera briefly, “and I realized that since Guillermo is–ah–no longer with us anymore, that there is now a space below the stairs, which I intend to use for my ‘calisthenicals.’ I wanted you all to be aware of this.”

Laszlo started and stood up, brandishing his pipe. “Like hell you will! I should have you recall that before Gizmo moved in, I happened to use that space to store my prrrrecious volumesehhh,” he said, enunciating the words.

“I should think not,” Nandor retaliated, “since I distinctly remember calling ‘dibs’ on that space upon moving in and signing our vampire roommate agreement.”

“Well I didn’t know you COULD th—”

Behind them, Colin Robinson’s eyes widened and glowed greedily.

“I know who would remember!” Nadja interjected suddenly. Nandor and Laszlo turned towards her expectantly. She snapped her fingers. “Jerry the Vampire.”

Recognition dawned on all of their faces.

“Jerry!” said Nandor.

“Stand up fellow, whatever happened to him?” remarked Laszlo.

“I don’t remember, but what a great guy,” Colin Robinson said.

They blissfully reminisced together for a few seconds. Their faces fell.

“Shit shit shit shit shit,” said Nandor urgently. He ran into the foyer and down the stairs, the rest of the vampires in tow.

•

The basement of the mansion hadn’t been cleaned in perhaps a hundred years, and that was a conservative estimate. Nandor had said he would eventually get around to it, which really meant that Guillermo would get around to it. In any case, it had never happened. Nadja coughed into her lacey glove, waving her hand in front of her face in an unsuccessful attempt to clear the dust from the air.

“What a grimy, stinky shithole,” she said.

“A shithole we forgot we left Jerry in!” said Nandor indignantly.

Laszlo addressed a camera. “Once in a while, a vampire will fall into a super slumber. It’s an extreme decision that a vampire can choose to undertake for a variety of reasons. Times are dogshit, for example. Though believe it or not, one of the top reasons vampires go into super slumber is loneliness. Eternal life can be quite shit if you don’t have someone by your side. That’s why I’m ever-grateful that I have my darling lady-wife Nadja by mine!” He chortled boisterously.

Behind him, Nandor knocked something over, sending a plume of dust into the air and eliciting another chorus of coughing and hacking.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“Ah–but in any case, they awaken only when their fellow vampires wake them,” Laszlo finished.

“We were supposed to wake him up on New Year’s Eve, 1976,” said Nandor.

“We–um–forgot to wake Jerry up,” Nadja added. She laughed humorlessly. “Oopsie.”

“We had a lot going on,” said Colin Robinson.

“In any case, does anyone remember where Jerry’s coffin is?” Nadja said.

For a few minutes, the four vampires sifted through the debris and mildewy wreckage of forgotten furniture and clothing.

“I believe I’ve found it!” Laszlo exclaimed triumphantly. “Nandor, help me pry this lid off.”

As the lid came crashing off, they recoiled from the stench within. Nadja gagged.

“Yikes,” said Colin Robinson.

“Jerry seems to have broken into six or seven pieces of old wet meat,” grimaced Nandor.

“What have we done!” Nadja wailed.

Laszlo regarded the coffin with a furrowed brow before shaking his head.

“This isn’t Jerry,” he said. “It’s leftover body parts from a project I abandoned years ago. Couldn’t be fucked. That’s all.”

Nandor and Nadja exhaled in relief.

Laszlo retrieved his pipe from his coatpocket, where he had–apparently–been storing it, still lit. He regarded the coffin pensively. “Would that I could create life...reanimate dead tissue. Whomever unlocks that mystery would be a god amongst men.”

“Like Frankenstein,” said Colin Robinson.

“Who the fuck is that?” retorted Laszlo.

“Victor Frankenstein?”

“Never heard of the man.”

“Riiight,” said Colin Robinson.

Nadja walked over to another grimey box and tried to pull the lid off, face scrunched up with exertion. She huffed irately.

“Laszlo, shut the fuck up for a second and help me with this,” she said.

As the lid crashed down with a bang, the vampires looked on in anticipation. A round-faced, jovial-looking vampire slowly arose from the coffin. Standing, he yawned sleepily, stretched, and opened his eyes.

“Hey guys. Happy New Year 1976 amirite? Nadja, beautiful as ever,” he said.

Nadja preened, pleased.

“Dr. Cravensworth, I presume?”

Laszlo curtsied. “You presume correctly.”

Jerry smiled.

“Heyyya Jer-bear,” Colin Robinson said, attempting a close approximation of a smile.

Jerry stopped smiling. “Hi.”

Colin Robinson’s sorta-smile fizzled.

Nandor smiled fangily. “Good to see you Jerry.”

“And you, great warrior,” said Jerry, bowing slightly. “So, how’d conquering the New World go?”

•

In the library, Jerry held his face in his hands in agony. “So let me get this straight. Not only have we not conquered anything, but you let me sleep for 50 years.”

“Yeppers,” said Colin Robinson.

“Instead of 20.”

Nandor shifted. “Well, we did conquer part of Ashley Street and–”

“And there’s a camera crew here just. Recording us. And our dark vampiric deeds.”

“Well, yes,” Nandor said, “but they’re cool.”

“Uh-huh,” Jerry said flatly, unconvinced.

While Colin attempted to catch Jerry up on the last 50 years of current events via We Didn’t Start the Fire, to Jerry’s exasperation, Nandor mulled on Jerry’s words. It had been a while since he had thought about conquering the new world, and the idea that he–the greatest warrior in Al Quolnadar, and most certainly the world–had forsaken this conquest, didn’t sit right with him. He had changed. What’s happened to me? he thought miserably. What do I have to show for any of this?

“Actually, Jerry has a point,” Nadja said suddenly. “Why did we let the documentary crew film us?”

“We are exalted, powerful, beautiful immortal beings,” said Laszlo. “Who wouldn’t want to know more about our lives?”

“Of course, but why in the first place did we allow it?” She thought for a moment. “You know who would remember? Guillermo. We must speak to him.”

Nandor shook his head. His eyes flickered. “No, I forbid it. He…has his own life now.” He stood from the chaise and walked out.

Nadja stood and followed him out. Hurrying to catch up with him, she caught him by the arm. He turned, blinking rapidly. She appraised him in an uncharacteristically tender way.

“Nandor…” she said softly, “you know that it’s okay to admit that you miss him a little.”

“I admit nothing!” he thundered. “I found him this new home. It was the least I could do for him. He wanted his independence. He wanted a new life. A new job. A new…master. Away from…us.” He jerked his arm away.

Nadja narrowed her eyes and her posture stiffened. “Just because you do not wish to see him does not mean I cannot see him. Take me to Guillermo, Nandor.”

The last few years of Guillermo’s life hadn’t really belonged to him. He closed his eyes, and savored having a space to himself for the first time in…years? Decades? He felt older than he had in a long time. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be a vampire, feeling years slip by in what seems like minutes. He was exhausted. The space under the stairs hadn’t really been his, after all. It was a place he was allowed to be, allowed to exist in, in return for his service. His life, really. And what did he have to show for it? Failed friends, failed loves. He had nothing.

When he had first started looking for a place to live, he had found very quickly that not getting paid for the last 13 years of his life had left his options slim. Nandor had helped him, then. Laszlo has wanted to put him in his old jack-off garden shed, and then decided against it because firstly, it would have been too much work to move the jack-off equipment, and secondly, Nandor had reminded him that Guillermo would freeze and have to piss in a bucket if he was left in a shed outside. So they had settled on the room in the basement on the opposite side of the hall from Colin Robinson for the small sum of $350 a month. He had nothing, but this space was his. He had saved up for fairy lights, a poster, and a nice mattress. He had a lavender candle. A small rug. It was nothing, but it was his nothing. He just wished he could stop thinking about–

“NANDOR. If you keep stepping on my dress I will beat the absolute living shit out of you.”

Guillermo opened his eyes and sighed. The relaxation had been nice while it lasted. As Nadja’s heels clicked down the concrete steps of the basement he shared with Colin Robinson, he threw off his duvet and stretched, sitting up and grabbing his glasses off the milkcrate he was “upcycling” as a nightstand. As he did, he heard a loud rapping knock on the door.

“Guillermo would you please open the door please, before I lose my complete fucking shit?” Nadja asked sharply, voice muffled by the door.

Guillermo obliged and yawned, wiping sleep out of his eyes.

“Hey guys,” he said, voice low and raspy. He looked briefly at the cameras, then at Nandor, then at Nadja. Nandor’s gaze lingered on him. Guillermo thought he saw…no. He was done with that. “What’s going on?”

“Wait, so who’s Jerry?” Guillermo asked.

Nandor scoffed from the bed. “You wanted to be away from us, so now you miss things. This is how it is now. You wanted this instead of–” he stopped abruptly.

Guillermo looked at him sharply, but Nandor was avoiding his eyes, instead tracing the glitter portrait hung in the middle of the wall that, years ago, he had made as an anniversary gift for Guillermo.

Nadja offered a quick explanation in Nandor’s stead, and Guillermo nodded, satisfied.

“To your question, Nadja. You…I don’t know. You guys let them start filming because you wanted to show people how cool you guys were,” Guillermo started.

Nadja started to stand from the stool in the corner of the room, apparently satisfied with this explanation.

“But,” Guillermo continued, “you also wanted to see how you all would change. Like…revisiting the past you. Laszlo and you had mentioned wanting a kid or something? Or well, Laszlo had mentioned creating something. I assumed he meant sex. Nandor wanted to get married. You wanted power and admiration. Colin Robinson…I actually don’t know what his goals were. And obviously, you expected that you’d have dominion over the New World by this point.”

Nadja plopped back on the stool, quiet. She got up again just as suddenly.

“Thank you Guillermo for that very long, very useless, dogshit explanation. I am going to leave now.”

Guillermo scoffed and raised an eyebrow, looking at a camera. “Okay, sure. No problem.”

•

As the cameraman followed Nadja up the stairs, Nandor lingered for a moment. Guillermo looked at him. Nandor’s thumb traced Guillermo’s duvet almost imperceptibly, but Guillermo had learned a long time ago how to pick up on things most people didn’t notice. That’s how he had found them after all.

Nandor stood up and inhaled sharply.

“The job is good? Panera bread?” he asked, all business. Guillermo could do the same.

He nodded and smiled tightly. “Absolutely. It’s great.”

“Your new master–eh–boss? He treats you…well?”

“Better than I could have ever imagined,” Guillermo raised his gaze to Nandor’s. Nandor stepped back slightly, eyes glinting flintily.

“Looking back on it, I guess you got what you wanted, didn’t you? You got married. To Marwa,” Guillermo said quietly. Because he knew it would hurt. Because there were no cameras.

Nandor breathed softly, shakily. “And so did you,” he said coldly. Because he knew it would hurt. Because there were no cameras.

•

Nandor paced the foyer. Guillermo was a fucker but he was right. He had wanted to get married. And he had gotten married. And it had failed. And he was still unsatisfied. His familiar had humiliated him, hurt him, betrayed him, and here he was playing landlord with him and pretending things hadn’t changed after the Derek fiasco. Jerry was right. He was a warrior, he was Nandor the fucking Relentless, and he did not relent when he wanted something.

He needed a win.

He wanted that space under the stairs.

•

Laszlo sat quietly in the library, lost in thought. Nadja had informed the rest of the vampires about what Guillermo had told her and Nandor. Creating something, yes. He had been pulling his own dick the last 50 years and hadn’t the slightest god-defying achievement to show for it. He would make something beautiful, something that defied comprehension. This time, he would finally make his creation. And this time, it would be perfect.

•

Nadja wanted…more. She had achieved power and respect. She had sat on the Vampiric Council, albeit in a shitting pencil-pushing role. So, when that got boring, she made her nightclub. She was a doer! She had achieved what she wanted in the vampiric world. It was time for something new. Something novel. Something so disgusting and absolutely different from what she’d already done that it could only be called human.

•

Colin Robinson walked gingerly to his room. All of the negative feelings in the house would normally be a feast for an energy vampire. He hadn’t meant to feed this much, but the energy soaked in whether he liked it or not. Ordinarily, it would have been great. But this…this was too much of a good thing. His ass had gotten absolutely massive. From the side, it genuinely looked like someone had taken it in MS Paint and stretched it out. It had its perks of course—the Guide had certainly noticed, and their passionless, mind-blowing hookups had gone from happening 20 times to about 38 times a week. But there was the other issue. His pants didn’t fucking fit anymore.

•

Guillermo closed the door to the bathroom, toweling off his hair. Nadja’s doll had grabbed his glasses and run off with them somewhere, so he peeked into the sitting room where the vampires were sat in their evening activities. Except they weren’t doing anything. They were static.

Guillermo furrowed his brow bemusedly. “What is going on with you guys?”

They didn’t acknowledge him.

He sighed. “Not my place or my job, but something is clearly wrong.”

“Maybe the fact that I have turned into a huge giant pussy?” Nandor muttered.

“That I am a complete scientific failure?” Laszlo said loftily.

“ I still feel as though I haven’t reconnected with my Antipaxian roots?” Nadja said.

“That my pants don't fit anymore?” said Colin Robinson.

“No,” said Guillermo, “I was going to say Jerry.”

The vampires looked at him in shock.

“Like listen. He’s a great guy, right? He was a great friend?”

They murmured their assent.

“Such a great friend,” Colin Robinson said eagerly.

“I’m sure,” said Guillermo. “But sometimes old dynamics just don’t work anymore.” He avoided looking at Nandor. “I think you need to be honest with him and yourselves.”

“So you think we should chop off his head and let his corpse be picked at by birds in the backyard,” said Nadja, looking around the room for assent.

“Yes, douse him in holy water,” agreed Nandor.

“No.”

“Stake through the heart,” suggested Laszlo.

“You know there’s other ways to break off a relationship instead of going straight to murder, no?” said Guillermo.

“Such as?” inquired Laszlo.

Jerry walked in.

“Shiiiiit,” hissed Nandor, sinking into the sofa.

“Jerry!” said Guillermo smilingly.

“Jerry Jerry Jerryyyy,” Nadja half-sang nervously.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Jerry said, eyes darting around the odd scene.

“Well, uh,” Guillermo started, “I just heard you’re the whole brains behind the New World conquering plan!”

Jerry smiled and rolled his eyes. “Guilty as charged!”

“Well then, you’re really gonna like what we have to show you.”

•

The Guide glanced at Jerry with confusion. “So is the plan for me to fuck him?”

“I mean you can, but that’s not really why we brought him here,” said Guillermo.

“Well then, why did you bring him here? P.S., I probably will fuck him but more out of boredom than anything else.” She sighed. “Such is the plight of The Guide.”

“I brought him here because he's everything you've been waiting your entire life for. He wants to take over the New World,” Guillermo said.

Her eyes traced Jerry with much more interest, considering him. “This cannot be true.”

“I swear it,” Guillermo promised.

The Guide smiled.

“Lieutenant,” Jerry started.

“Oh there’s really no need for such formalities,” The Guide protested, turning to face him.

Jerry stared at her intensely. “I think,” he said, taking her in, “that you’ll find I’m a stickler for the chain of command.”

The Guide eyed him hungrily. “I think,” she purred, pulling him in by his lapels, “that I will like him very much.”

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