#the way I had to figure out what BA meant for a sec...

[blizzardsuplex]

"Oh, you're just so good." from THE UNDISPUTED ERA “FACE” OFF WITH EACH OTHER - UUDD VS., 02/20/2020

[audioaujom]

Encountering Sachiko Alt [wrong end 8 ★8]

Corpse Party Hub, < prev, next >

This is an alt of the same write from last week, wrong end 8 ★8 from Book of Shadows Episode #5. Same as last time it would most likely roughly take place at some point during Corpse Party Chapter 2 if memory serves.

Pairing: Ranboo and Tubbo

Word Count: 2475

Chapter TWs: Blood and Gore, Graphic Depictions of Violence/Gore, Implied/Referenced Character Death

--

Whatever you do, don't look behind you.

The note laid neatly beside the candle on the steps, causing Ranboo’s eyes to widen and him to instinctively glance back over his shoulder.

Well, now I'm curious. What happens if I do look behind me?

He blinked as the familiar figure of Bill emerged from the darkness below, calling his name out in relief as they recognized each other. “Ranboo…!”

“Bill…? Wasn't Schlatt with you?” Ranboo asked immediately, painfully aware that he hadn’t left Bill alone by the pool when they split up earlier.

“He was just with me until a short while ago. We ended up getting chased by this fucker with an axe though, so we got separated.” Bill explained, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“Oh jeez, I hope he's okay…” Ranboo trailed off as he noticed the blood splattered across Bill’s clothes, instantly stepping closer to his friend and nervously looking him over. “But, what about you? Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I'm okay. This… isn't my blood.” Bill grimaced, wringing his hands out as he awkwardly looked away. “But this school is even more dangerous than I thought. Whoever that guy is, I'm positive he's been going around killing anyone who gets lost in this fucking place.”

“Yeah… I mean, I haven't seen the guy myself, but I can’t imagine he's up to anything good considering he's wandering around a place like this with an ax.” 

There was a short moment of silence as Bill awkwardly shifted his weight between his feet, before quietly admitting, “Ranboo… I'm freaking out. We're in way over our heads here… I don't wanna be alone knowing that there's a potential murderer out there in these halls.” 

“Then you won't be! I'll stay right with you and we'll look around together.” Ranboo immediately offered, not liking the anxiousness on Bill’s face.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Of course I am! What kind of friend would I be if I just let you walk off after you told me all that?” Ranboo continued, watching the anxiety in Bill give way to relief. “I’ve got your back, man.”

“Thank you!” 

Bill instantly threw himself forward to hug Ranboo, who instantly tensed and stumbled back uncomfortably. “H—Hey…!” 

“Shit, sorry! You're already dating someone, aren't you?” Bill apologized as he pulled away, his lighthearted chuckle causing a weird knot of dread to begin coiling in Ranboo’s stomach. “Didn't you say his name was Tubbo?”

“What? Oh, no no no! It's uh, not like that.” Ranboo instantly disagreed, shaking his head and hands a little more vigorously than he meant to. “He's… like a brother to me, I guess.”

“I bet life would be a whole lot less boring if I had a brother like you.” The next comment from Bill had Ranboo’s stomach turning again, not liking the strange tone of voice but choosing to just awkwardly chuckle instead of voicing his concerns.

“Yeaaah, I'm not so sure that would be a good thing.”

Methodically checking the next floor as carefully as they could for Schlatt, the two wandered around for quite a ways before the ambient light of the school seemed to dim greatly.

“Is it just me, or is it way darker in here?” Ranboo finally couldn’t resist the urge to say something, stopping in his tracks as he realized his companion had already halted and seemed to be looking around for something. “...uhh? Bill?”

“Hang on a sec. I've got a light.” Bill didn’t glance up from his pockets, complaining, “Ugh. It's not just dark, but cold, too…”

“Yeah… I think we should turn back. I don't like the way this hallway makes me feel.” Shivering a little, Ranboo nodded and turned around to head back only for Bill to sigh sadly.

“Uh… sorry man, but the way back is gone.”

“Crap…” Stomach crashing into the floor as he saw the hallway behind them had caved in bad enough they probably couldn’t even make the jump across the new, large gap, Ranboo hung his head before suddenly remembering— “Wait, Bill. Do you still have that alcohol lamp on you?”

“No, it didn't make it.” Bill shrugged, before finding what he was looking for and offering Ranboo his two handfuls of small candles. “I've got plenty of candles, though.”

“I'm not sure the candles will be enough.” Ranboo said apologetically, gently shoving Bill’s candle filled hands back at him. “This darkness is… heavy. You know what I mean?” He paused for a moment as Bill gave him a blank look, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. “Nevermind, of course you know. You’re literally right here with me.”

“Well… hey, look! There's a room.” Bill pointed down the hall after putting the candles away, using his free hand to grab at Ranboo’s wrist and start to drag him along. “Let's go see what's inside. Okay?”

“Bill, wait! That might not be safe! Let's stop and think for a—!” He tried to protest, trying to yank away from Bill’s hold to step back, only for the contrasting movement to topple them both to the floor with a loud thud and two shouts of surprise. As soon as Ranboo realized he had landed directly on top of Bill, he quickly tried to scramble away as an uncomfortable blush settled across his face and down his neck. He got up to his hands and knees as quickly as he could, panicked as Bill stared back up at him with a strange look on his face. “Sh—Shoot, I'm sorry. Are you okay?” 

“I'm just fine.” Bill smirked up at Ranboo, looking all too pleased at the awkward position they found themselves in.

“Ahh, I'm really sorry. I swear that was just an accident, I should've been more careful, or—” Rambling to try and soothe the rapidly building dread in his stomach and the embarrassed flush on his face, Ranboo’s words choked off as Bill grinned wider and cut him off.

“Never mind that. What say we have a little chat?”

“...what… do you…?” Ranboo wanted to get as far away from Bill as he possibly could as alarms frantically went off his head, but instead stayed rooted to the spot as his brain tried to follow the off-putting offer.

“Don't you like me… Ran…?” Bill’s voice seemed to change pitch suddenly, becoming higher as his eyes bored holes straight up into him. Ranboo felt himself flinch, opening his mouth to shut Bill down only to notice the first drops of blood forming in the corners of his friend’s eyes. 

Any words he had to say died in his throat as tear tracks of blood ran down Bill’s face, more blood beading out of his nose and dripping over his lips, a sense of horror washing over Ranboo as he quickly came to the conclusion that something was very, very wrong. “Wh—Who… are you?”

“Who do you think I am, Ran?” Despite the blood now pouring out of his mouth, the words weren’t garbled at all, Ranboo shaking his head as the horror gave way to the rapidly building dread in the pit of his stomach.

“S—Stop it!” He demanded in a panic, trying to find a graceful way back to his feet before adding on, “And don’t call me that!”

Ranboo then went to push himself up off of the floor with his hands, only for Bill to tightly grab both of his wrists to keep Ranboo down on top of him. 

“L—Let me go! How do you know about me? About Tubbo?!”

Whoever this was—he most certainly wasn’t Bill, at least not anymore—only giggled, a swirling panic beginning in Ranboo’s stomach as he tried to pull away from him. The grip on him was unnaturally strong as it bruised his wrists, no amount of yanking able to break the grip for several long moments until a particularly hard tug got one of his hands free, his arm then swinging wide and smacking one of the boy’s bloodstained cheeks.

"Oww! How dare you raise your hand against a friend, Ran…" Bill’s voice distorted as he giggled again, thick trails of blood starting to leak out of every available orifice of his face: eyes, nose, ears, and even more from his already bleeding mouth. The skin of Bill’s face began to peel back like burning paper, curling away from the waterfalls of crimson and flaking off in disgusting, bloody patches. A new, blue tinted face was emerging from underneath the peeling, flayed skin—it was young, child-like, and covered in slimy guts and more blood. Whatever was left of Bill disintegrated to the sides as the rest of the young girl’s figure emerged, though half-submerged in the floorboards. Long, dark hair framed the sides of her face, a long red dress covering her body that began to shimmer in the low light of the hallway to make her seem to glow as she grinned up at Ranboo, his mind finally catching up with the carnage surrounding him as the rank smell of death started wafting up from the piled remains and ever growing lake of blood around him. The girl still held onto him, him swallowing back vomit as the two stared at each other, waiting for someone to make a move.

“You… were you always… her?” Ranboo choked out, the smell combined with his overwhelming terror causing his voice to shake. “What did you do… to Tubbo?!”

“Now what did I do to him? Hmm. I remember he wouldn't shut up. He kept chirping 'Ran!', 'Ran!', 'Ran!', like a bird.” The girl mused, giggling to herself as Ranboo tried to keep his mouth from falling open in panicked shock. “But he's not chirping anymore! Wanna see for yourself?”

“No, no… No, that can't be!” The only thing keeping Ranboo from completely collapsing was the girl’s tight grip on his arms, the twinges of pain barely enough to keep him grounded as his mind swirled to keep up.

“I've been watching you, you know. I like you. You've got promise.” The girl grinned, still present blood leaking out from between her lips and staining her teeth. “People like you do show up from time to time. Freaks of nature who have a real affinity for this place.”

“What the hell are you trying to say about me?” Ranboo tried pulling away from the girl again—harder this time—to no avail. “No, wait… what… What does that mean? What are you planning to do with me?!”

“Aw, are you scared?” Her giggle was light and completely unnerving, her vice grip slowly inching up his arms as she pulled him closer and closer to her face. “That's understandable. But the thing is, I get you! You're not afraid of people dying. You're afraid of you dying.”

“What? No! Let go of me! I… I…!” Ranboo was in too much shock to continue struggling, the girl’s breath smelling of a rot and decay that even the viscera around them couldn't match, the two locked in a one-sided staring contest.

“Sure. I'll let you go. And when I do, I want you to walk over to that door. Let the school guide your way.” She shrugged lightly, her eyes lighting up as Ranboo felt his stomach twist with a fresh burst of nausea as she nodded with her head towards a nearby classroom. “It's where you'll find the person you've been looking for all this time.”

A voice then quietly floated through the air, the tone a familiar whisper that sounded from all around. “Ran… don't look at me… not the way I am now…”

“Ahh… Tubbo…” Ranboo couldn't move, the panic and adrenaline coursing through him and fighting for him to do anything blocked by the cold fear that washed over him each time the girl addressed him.

“I'm looking forward… to your reaction…” In an instant the girl let go, her blue-tinted form slowly sinking into the floor boards as she added, “But if it's boring… I'll kill you.”

As quickly as she appeared, she was gone again, leaving behind nothing but the tattered remains of Bill’s clothes and the horrific face mask made of his blood-soaked skin. 

The smell alone was enough to rocket Ranboo to his feet, entirely distrustful of the ghost but unable to stop his own burning curiosity and panic for Tubbo from guiding his feet to the nearby classroom that the girl had motioned to, sliding the door open and stepping inside.

This is crazy… I think I’ve completely lost it by now, but… I have to go see Tubbo. I need to know that he’s okay, he… he can’t be dead.

He ran through hall after hall of dilapidated school, his feet carrying him forward even as he wasn’t quite sure where he was going—he just felt a pull that gently tugged him along.

Tubbo, just wait a little longer. I’m coming…

Finding Tubbo’s body was even worse than he could’ve imagined.

He’d been pulverized to shreds on a wall, the only identifying feature being Tubbo’s familiar sneakers on the floor and an odd certainty that this was what the school and the ghost girl wanted him to see. The large splatter of blood on the wall was tacky to the touch, nearly completely dried as Ranboo ran a hand around the outline in order to not look at the pile of shapeless skin and organs at the bottom of the wall.

“Oh god, no… No, Tubbo…” He mumbled as hot tears sprung to his eyes, dropping to his knees in a nearby puddle of blood as something magnified his grief until it was entirely unmanageable. “What happened—! Oh god, you’re…” His chest squeezed painfully as he stared hopelessly into the still slightly warm guts spread out in front of him that once were assembled into a friend of his. “No, I… I’m too late, I… It can’t be…”

So absorbed in his inability to process the horror in front of him, he didn’t notice the blue ghost girl appear in the air behind him, annoyed.

“Tsk. You’re so boring.” She shook her head sadly as Ranboo crumbled to the floor with a loud sob, the misery too much for him to bear. “I’m disappointed.”

A dark tint had overtaken Ranboo’s vision at some point in his crying, his head beginning to pound painfully from the back from the tension of crying— Wait, no, that’s not…

His thoughts trailed off as the pain in the back of his blossomed again, this time coherent enough to recognize that his head was actually being bashed in from the outside. Empty and slightly glazed eyes managed to catch a brief glimpse of the zombie above him, the blunt end of the ax he was holding making one final swing that turned Ranboo’s world to an unrelenting darkness one last time.

[schweeeppess]

Chapter I

---

Tim knew something was wrong when he called Dick twice and was sent to voicemail both times. Normally that was fine; Dick was a pretty busy person, so Tim could understand that; he just texted his brother instead, telling him to call when he got the chance, and didn’t give it much more thought until after patrol when he checked his phone and still didn’t have a response.

Frowning, Tim turned his phone off and looked over at Bruce. Normally whenever Dick didn’t answer text messages it meant he was either undercover or isolating himself.

If this was the first option, Tim would check with Barbara first then let Bruce know just in case he tried contacting Dick and couldn’t reach him. Bruce got overprotective.

If it was the second option, though… There was an entirely different protocol for that between Tim and Dick.

So he texted Babs and went to change out of the Robin uniform, running up the stairs once he was hopping into his shorts to get to the Manor because it was almost four in the morning and he had to get home in case Dad woke up and decided to check up on him, only stopping to say bye to Bruce and Alfred before booking it for the Drake estate.

As he approached the looming mansion, concern continued to roll in Tim’s gut as he thought back to the fact that Dick might need him and he wouldn’t know about it until Barbara answered.

Because something was definitely very wrong. Tim could feel it in his bones, in his blood, in his lungs. The sharp and bitter taste of fear was in the air, and it was unforgiving as it attacked Tim’s psyche worse than the toxin designed to induce it did. Underfoot grass crunched softly; quietly, in contrast to the raging storm and rolling of Tim’s gut caused by anxiety.

Maybe, he wondered as he crawled into his room through the window, Dick was just tired of him. Maybe Dick wasn’t avoiding Bruce, and maybe he wasn’t undercover. Maybe Dick was sick of talking to him, maybe he’d taken advantage of having a brother too much, maybe it was Tim’s fault—

No.

Tim shook his head, pulling his pajama pants up.

No, Dick wasn’t like that. He was a good and genuine person, and if Tim were annoying him he’d say it. Dick was honest. He was real.

Right before he curled up under his blankets, Tim checked his phone for a text from Barbara.

Barbara G: Nope.

Tim frowned, turning off his phone.

So Dick wasn’t undercover, then. That meant he was avoiding Bruce. Something was wrong, so Tim was going to have to get Bruce off his case on patrol tomorrow, which meant he was going to have a long night.

___

“You’re planning on doing what?”

Predictably, the whole ‘ditching Bruce’ plan wasn’t working. Maybe that was because Bruce was real mother-henny even after about a half a year or so of Tim being Robin. He doubted that the hovering would get any better with time, actually.

He paused on the rooftop he was on, shifting a little uncomfortably as he did, Tim answered, “Visiting Nightwing.”

“…and you want to go alone. Through Gotham, and into Blüdhaven, unaccompanied. Am I correct in assuming this?”

“Yeah, and?” Like hell if Tim was backing down now. He hadn’t when he’d stared Bruce down about a year ago to blackmail Batman, and he wasn’t about to start doing it now.

Robin stood up to Batman. (It was, like, a requirement.)

Bruce grunted.

“No.”

“Come again.”

“I said no.” The tone Bruce was using brokered no room for argument, and Tim tightened his jaw. “Finish your route then head back.”

“Ba—”

“This conversation is over. I’ll see you back home, Robin.”

Yeah, Tim bitterly thought to himself as he readied himself to continue heading toward Blüd full of bitter spite. See you back home when I get back.

Just as he fired his grapple, he heard a loud stream of curse words spout off from behind him and Tim whipped around, only for whoever it was that needed their mouth washed out with soap to run right past him and jump off the roof.

Heart jumping to his throat, Tim was ready to jump down after the person to catch them, but he stopped short when he saw the figure—male, Tim could finally make out, and with a red helmet—pull out their own grapple gun and shoot a line with what looked like practiced ease.

Tim didn’t hesitate to follow the red-helmet wearing guy. Normally, whenever someone was running, they either needed help, were trying to get away from Robin or Batman, or were just in a rush.

Odds were, though, since this guy had a red helmet, that he was a bad guy or something. Gotham villains seemed to have a theme of being flashy.

Somewhere in Tim’s mind he remembered the Red Hood—Joker’s ex-alias way back in the day—because of the red helmet. That couldn’t be intentional, could it? Was it?

God, Tim hoped not as he landed on the roof the other guy had and ran after him. The Joker had a history with Robins that Tim wasn’t eager to continue.

…that sounded vaguely insensitive, even in Tim’s brain. He hadn’t even voiced that comment and it still came out wrong.

Oh shit was the follow-up thought, which was completely warranted because red helmet had stopped at the edge of this roof to face him, and Tim was entirely unprepared for that—bad guys didn’t normally stop and turn around to face the good guys, at least the henchmen didn’t.

“I am really busy right now, Robin,” the guy quickly said, his voice coming out chillingly robotic but distinctly young—maybe early twenties?—even with the modulator, “so I don’t have time for your shit—if Batman’s around, tell him to fuck off too, actually—and I therefore ask you to please jump off the nearest roof and have a great face-punching night and kindly stop following me, thanks.”

With that, the guy jumped off the roof onto the neighboring one, leaving Tim with his mouth in a surprised and wholly undignified O.

Did—did that guy just—

No fucking way.

Now very intrigued, Tim followed Mr. Badass, vaguely wondering if Jason would mind if Tim added this guy as his hero.

“Hey, wait a sec mister!”

A very loud, very long, and very dramatic groan was heard probably from space at Tim’s shout, and he continued to silently gape in marvel and run to catch up.

Bruce would probably disapprove, Tim thought to himself.

…he didn’t really care. Robins hardly ever cared what Batman thought, actually, from what Tim had both experienced and seen.

Despite the overexaggerated noise of frustration, red helmet waited for him clearly anxious as he stood on the roof, arms crossed and looking for all the world like he had somewhere to be.

“What can I help you with and how fast can I do it?” were the first words from his mouth, and Tim’s amazement spiked.

Just who was this guy?

“What’s your rush?” Tim blurted. “What’s your name, too? Why the red helmet? Who are you?”

“I have something very time-sensitive I need to get to, my name is Noneya Business—call me Noneya, Business was my father—the red helmet looks cool, and I’m nobody you need to worry about, ‘kay?” Noneya answered, ticking off his responses on his fingers as he said them. “That all?”

Tim absorbed the answers, processed them, and finally said, “Can I help somehow? With your ‘time-sensitive something’?”

It surprised him when Noneya seemed to think about his offer, and it surprised him even more when Noneya said, “…fine, you’re his brother anyways right?”

He didn’t have time to think about that question before Noneya added, “No Batman if I say yes, a’ight? It’s enough with your ass Robin self.”

Noneya’s sudden accent sounded natural—like he’d been hiding it the entire conversation and had given up.

“No Batman if we’re not gonna be doing ‘ny criminal stuff,” Tim promised, letting a bit of his own accent slip into his speech.

A scoff of resignation was as much as he got before Noneya bit out a quick, “Hurry up, kid,” and was running off the roof again.

Tim paused to think about what he was doing. He was about to go off with a stranger to do fuck knows what and had promised to not get Bruce involved if criminal activity was uninvolved.

Growing progressively stressed out, Tim ran after Noneya, and re-thought his life choices as something Noneya’d said flashed back into mind sometime during the pursuit.

“You’re his brother anyways right?”

What did he…

Oh, shit.

Tim looked at the person to his right, bulked up with respectable and clear muscle, almost reminding him of Bruce, and suspected he knew how to use those muscles to fight.  He couldn’t have meant Dick, could he? But who else could he have meant?

“Where’re we goin’?” he decided to ask, carefully adding a little space between himself and Noneya, ready to reactivate his comm to contact Bruce. If this guy had something to do with Dick’s radio silence…

“Middle ground,” was Noneya's response.

Scowling a little, Tim resigned himself to wait for them to reach this ‘middle ground’ to ask the question burning on the tip of his tongue. What did you to do Dick?

It took eight minutes to arrive at the ‘middle ground’ that Tim discovered was an abandoned electronics store.

An entire eight minutes of awkward silence, at least it was awkward on Tim’s side.

Noneya beckoned him to follow, pulling the helmet off, and Tim did, hand hovering over his bo as he did, ready for a fight.

He shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have kept it from Batman, shouldn’t have followed Noneya in the first place—stupid, stupid, stupid—he was gonna get Jason’ed and it was his dumbass fault.

Stupid, he mentally hissed at himself as the door closed. Utterly brainless! Dumb, thoughtless, moronic, half-witted, empty-headed, dim, daft, dumb as fuck.

But Noneya didn’t move to attack him, instead flicking some lights on to reveal the electronics store wasn’t an electronics store at all anymore—it was entirely renovated and looked more like either a very small apartment or a very big bedroom.

A cot was tucked into the furthermost corner—with a view of all vantage points, Tim noticed—and there was a pillow and light blanket tossed on it, a microwave rested on a desk across from it with a minifridge right beside that, and a lamp also on the shabby desk. Several monitors were set up on a separate table, nearest to the entrance, and looked to be working on something.

Noneya tossed his helmet on the cot and ran a hand through his hair, back to Tim, and Tim found himself curious as to just who this man was. Maybe if he could get a look at Noneya’s face, he could snap a picture with the domino lenses and run it through databases back in the Batcave to give Noneya an actual name.

“Right, well, we’ve reached the middle ground, Robin,” Noneya sighed, dropping his hand to his hip and turning his head to face Tim. “You can call me Simon.”

No way that was Noneya’s real name, but it was a start.

Tim nodded, then couldn’t hold his question back any longer.

“Did you do something to Nightwing?”

Simon snorted, not missing a beat as he tossed himself into the chair in front of the desk with the monitors and started to analyze what was being displayed. “Way to keep a secret, Rob.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Key-clacking was his only response for a few seconds, then Simon hummed and said, “I know.”

Narrowing his eyes, Tim rested his hand on the bo-staff.

Glancing over at the subtle movement, Simon threw his head back and laughed, his hands going to his gut as he did.

“Is that you threatening me?” he continued to laugh. “God, how long have you been at the gig?”

The laughter was surprisingly offensive, and Tim gritted his teeth. “Answer the question.”

“I didn’t do shit to Dick, kid.”

Simon had returned to whatever he’d been doing, attention wholly on the screens displayed before him, and didn’t seem to notice the name he’d dropped.

It made Tim tense.

“What did you just say?” Tim asked, hand tightening around his bo-staff. This guy would be a risk if he knew their identities—Tim took back mentally wanting this guy to be one of his heroes. This was a big issue.

“I said,” Simon repeated in an irritated exhale, “that I didn’t do shit to Dick.” Lower, he muttered, “Why does everyone think I’m the issue?”

He didn’t really think before he was moving, if anyone would believe him (which they probably wouldn’t).

Tim blinked and he was behind Simon—had slammed Simon’s face into the desk, actually, and Simon was swearing a blue streak.

“I—uh, I’m sorry!”

He was panicking. Why was he panicking? He’d trained for this! Tim was Robin, he’d dealt with scarier villains! (No he hadn’t. The worst Batman let him deal with was Riddler, and this guy was much more intimidating than some dude who shoved himself into a purple and green suit)

Simon continued swearing his heart out as he held his nose, but he was doing it in Spanish now, and wow Tim hadn’t ever heard swearing like that before.

“Joder—fucking hell, kid, that hurt.”

Refusing to continue apologizing, Tim tried to play it off and said, “Who’s Dick?”

That surprised a laugh out of Simon.

“Puto, you basically just spoiled the secret. If I hadn’t known who was behind what mask before, Batman would probably be within whatever fucked up rights he has he has to either ground you or fire you.” Simon eyed him, holding his nose, and asked, “Are you even one of his kids? Damn he replaced the last one quicker than a speedster on drugs, huh?”

Tim…

Had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to say to that.

“Uh…”

Simon rolled his eyes and returned to the monitors.

“To answer your original question, no hice nada,” he said, clicking into different tabs. “Penguin got the drop on your brother. Auctioned him off to Edward Skeevers.”

Tim sucked in a sharp breath at the name, and Simon hummed.

“Exactamente. I’m tryna help y’all get your Dick back,” Simon continued, turning to give Tim a pointed look. “I don’ appreciate the effort you made t’break my nose.”

Still at a loss for words, Tim didn’t think before he was saying, “It didn’t work?”

Fucking hell, where’s the filter between my brain and my mouth?

Thankfully, Simon barked a laugh at that and replied, “Not quite. Casi. M’nose hurts like a motherfucker.”

“Oh.” Tim sat down on the floor next to Simon and looked up at him, eyeing the shock of white in the guy’s hair. “S’too bad.”

Simon hummed again and it went silent as he worked on the computers and updated some files.

When Tim had collected himself and his thoughts, he made a decision and sat up straighter.

“How can I help?”

Simon raised a brow and glanced over at him.

“Pardon?” he asked.

“How can I help?” Tim repeated, gaze locked on Simon’s own, and he noticed that Simon’s eyes were an unnatural, vivid acidic green.

He knew that shade from somewhere.

“You’re looking for Dick, right?” Tim pressed, scooting a little closer.

Simon frowned.

“…how willing are ya to do some footwork?”

And Tim was in.

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

Roses are Red ch.4: Requirements

Tumblr is shit and won’t let my italics show and so not all of them are here since i had to manually go through for them. 

AO3 link for chapter here

AO3 link for story here

I finally have enough songs to share the playlist!!! Click here!

Tumblr Links:

Ch. 1: Click Here (click to read disclaimer as well)

Ch. 2: Click Here

Ch. 3: Click Here 

@itschocolateloveme  your second commission. I’m sorry it took so long! <3 Thank you so so much for your patience. 

Love requires sacrifices. Selfless sacrifices. These sacrifices were a way to prove what you were willing to go through for the person you love. It showed the depth of a person’s love. But love also requires a balance. No person should give more than the other more often than the other. A relationship with more sacrifices on one end was doomed to become painful and heartbreaking. When it was equal it would flourish.

But finding a balance was hard for anyone. And it didn’t help when eyes were blinded by overwhelming emotions, when sacrifices went unnoticed. And everyone has a breaking point.

---

Whether this was happening because Nico wanted to appease Will and shut him up about whether he’d gone on a date yet or because Nico was tired and lonely and wanted to move on… didn’t matter. The thing that mattered was that he was sitting there in a booth, looking at a cute guy with a cute smile who was actually pretty funny.

“Um, so… no offense, but why did you need a Tinder?” the guy asked. Leo. His name was Leo.

“What do you mean?”

Leo shrugged. “I just mean you’re a really attractive person and I wouldn’t think you’d have a problem getting someone to be interested in you.” He blushed as he said it, looking down at his milkshake. “And you don’t talk an annoying amount like I do which is exactly why I’m on there.”

Nico had to laugh at that. At the blatant honesty and modesty. It was true; Leo talked a lot. But it kept Nico from having to think of things to talk about, and the moments between Leo’s talking allowed him to give an opinion that sent Leo rambling into the next. “Well, first of all, I don’t mind the talking. It’s a relief not to have to seem interesting on my own.” Leo smirked. “And… I don’t know. My friend made me make one because he thought I was lonely.”

“Are you?”

Nico hesitated. “Aren’t we all? In some sense of the word?”

Leo hummed and nudged his foot under the table. “You’re avoiding an answer. Which I can take as a yes.”

Nico sipped from his drink and regarded him. Curly brown hair- like a curly fry- and brown eyes and quirky smile. He was actually really cute, and it had been the best date Nico had been on in his life. “You’re pretty smart.”

Leo shrugged and winked at him. It didn’t make his heart jump or anything, but it did make him smile. “I like taking people by surprise.” Leo leaned against his hand as he looked at Nico. “Could you do me a favor?” Nico raised an eyebrow. “Thank your friend for me.”

Nico smiled again, but he felt his stomach twist. Thank Will for making him a Tinder when Nico admitted his jealousy. Thank Will for shoving him to new people because he was currently happy with someone else. Thank Will because he didn’t reciprocate and was too fucking dense to realize what Nico meant when he admitted his feelings.

“I will,” he answered. Leo smiled.

The date wasn’t horrible. It was good. It was a really good date and Nico laughed and he liked hearing Leo talk.

And he was a good kisser.

Yes, Nico hated himself for it, but at that moment he also half-hated Will. His own best friend was so desperate to shove him into someone new so he wouldn’t be so angsty, and frankly Nico felt spiteful. Besides, Leo gave him a good time, and Nico was touch starved and frustrated.

So they went back to Nico’s to watch a series they’d both mentioned on their date and then ignored it in favor of sucking the other’s face off.

“Just so you know,” Leo gasped between kisses. “I wasn’t planning on this. I was 50% positive you’d walk out halfway through.”

Nico cupped his face as he let out a breathless chuckle and captured his lips again. Nico wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had Leo over before there was a knock at his door.

“Do you need to get that?” Leo asked in a breathless whisper.

“Nah, no one knows I’m home,” Nico answered. “Just stay quiet.” Leo laughed as Nico attacked his neck and promptly covered his mouth.

The knock came again. “Neeks, I know you’re here, I see your car!” he heard. It was muffled, but Nico knew that voice anywhere. “C’mon, open up!”

“Shit,” Nico hissed. Leo blinked at him dumbly, as he clambered off of him. “One sec!” Nico shouted. He wiped his mouth as he hurried to the door. He took a deep breath and opened it to see Will leaning against the doorframe with Sebastian beside him. Nico kept his frustration at bay. “What’s up, Will?”

“We were getting some food and I thought we’d stop by to hear how the date went. Can we come in?” Nico hesitated before letting the door open all the way. “So first of all- good or ba- oh hello!” Will froze and turned around to stare at Nico. “You didn’t say… you were busy.”

Nico shrugged. “You were either going to pry or come in, so…. Leo, this is Will and his boyfriend, Sebastian. Guys, this is Leo.”

“Take it the date went well, man,” Sebastian said with a smirk that made Nico’s skin crawl.

“Sure hope so,” Leo said, standing from the couch. “Otherwise, I’m getting very mixed signals. Hi, nice to meet you.” Leo shook both of their hands and then pointed at Will. “You’re… the friend who got him to make a Tinder?” Will nodded. Leo smiled and winked. “Thanks for getting him to.”

Will chuckled and looked over at Nico. “Yeah, looks like it worked out really quickly.” Nico shrugged. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach. He wanted Will out of his head, and here he was with his fucking boyfriend too. “Um, okay! We’ll get out of your hair then, sorry, I should’ve called first. It was nice meeting you, Leo.” Will took Sebastian’s hand and they went back to the door.

Nico trailed behind them to shut the door. Will apologized again and walked away with Sebastian. Nico shut the door and turned back to Leo, feeling awkward and unsure now.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” Leo hummed and went in for another kiss, but this time, Nico was more hesitant. Leo pulled back and looked at him curiously. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but I…. I gotta be honest with you.” Leo took a deep breath and stepped back. “I don’t want you to waste your time trying to make something come out of this. Because it might not.” Leo hummed, wiping at his mouth. “It’s just. That friend who came in, I’ve been… stupidly infatuated with him for-”

“It’s cool,” Leo interrupted. Nico grimaced, but Leo was smiling. “I mean it. Thanks for telling me.” He stepped a little closer and titled Nico’s chin toward him. “Can I ask you something though?” Nico nodded. “Were you thinking of him when you were kissing me?”

Nico took a deep breath, staring at his lips. Part of him wanted to kiss him again because he was so good at it, because it was distracting, because it felt amazing. But the other part of him didn’t think it was fair to Leo. And he knew that he would be thinking of Will this time. But before? “No.”

Leo’s smirk grew wider. “Well, if I made you forget about him once, maybe I could do it again.” Nico felt his cheeks heat up, and he expected Leo to lean in and melt it all away with more dizzying kisses. Instead, he stepped back and grabbed his jacket from the couch. “I had a good time with you, Nico. You have my number, so… text me if you wanna meet up again.”

He gave Nico a final wink before heading out the door. Nico let out a breath and plopped onto his couch.

He wanted it to work. God, he wanted to move on and fall for someone new and take the chances. It was just hard because Will had taken so much of his heart already. Nico didn’t know how to differentiate between moving on because he was ready or moving on because he was heartbroken.

The truth was, Nico hadn’t seen Will outside of class until that moment. And even then, there was Leo and Sebastian. They hadn’t been alone in so long. Anytime Nico saw Will he was with Sebastian or talking about Sebastian, covered in hickeys from Sebastian. Each time broke his heart a little more. The worst part was that Nico wanted to be a good friend, he just… couldn’t figure out how yet.

He wanted to be a good friend who could separate his romantic feelings, and just be the friend Will needed him to be. It was just difficult to try and separate the emotions when it was so fresh. He’d made his peace with being just friends when they were both single. He wasn’t expecting someone new to swoop in and sweep him off his feet.

And maybe… Leo could help. It’s not like Nico was lying to him. He’d been honest and Leo clearly stated he was still interested. And that kiss….

Nico groaned and buried his face into his pillow.

--

A few days later, Nico joined Will for lunch. Just Will. And it felt awkward, which Nico really wished it didn’t.

“You okay?” Nico asked as they sat down.

“Yeah. Just…. Feels weird that this is the first time we’ve hung out in a while.” Will shrugged. “So any details on that date? Will there be another?” Will nudged his side. “Did you guys hook up?”

“No. He actually left a little after you stopped by,” Nico answered. “I’m still debating a second date.”

Will took his seat across from him, wincing. “Was it a bad date? Was he weird?”

“No, not at all,” he answered. Will looked surprised. Something about that surprised look irked Nico and simultaneously made him feel smug. “He’s really funny and he’s smart and...he’s a fucking good kisser.”

Will laughed and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Well damn, Neeks. What’s holding you back then?”

It was quiet for a moment. He had a point. “I don’t know.” Nico pushed his hair out of his face and shook his head. “Anyway, how’s it going with Sebastian?” Will let out a huff of surprise and leaned back. “What?”

“You just… don’t usually ask about Baz.” Nico shrugged. “It’s going well. Really well. I like being with him and… he makes me really happy.”

Each word was a dagger twisting into Nico’s heart and lungs. “That’s really great to hear,” he offered. “I know you’ve always dreamed of a love story like this. Strangers meeting and falling in love. Getting swept off your feet. I’m happy it’s happening for you.”

Will smiled and took a bite of his food. “Okay, come on, we used to talk about more than just boys. You haven’t kept watching How to Get Away with Murder without me, have you?”

Nico scoffed. “Of course not.” Will narrowed his eyes. “Okay, I saw like half of an episode, but-”

“Nico, how could you!” Nico laughed as Will reprimanded him for such a violation of trust. “You know what, now I get to watch that whole episode before you.” Nico’s eyes widened. “You watched half, so I should watch the other half. It’s payback.”

For a while it was back to normal. For a while, Will was just Will, not Will with a Boyfriend and Nico was just Nico, not Nico Who Loved Will. That whole time their lunch felt like they were back to normal, two best friends who hadn’t lost any time together. Dorky best friends who built theories around their favorite show and excitedly told the other about a new song by their favorite artist or a new book that was coming out soon.

At least until Will’s phone started ringing. He apologized and answered with a soft, “Hey, Baz. Everything okay?” Nico looked down at his empty food wrappers. “No, yeah I told you I was meeting with Nico. But we’re just about to head out, I’ve got my last class in a bit.” A brief pause. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll see you later. I love you too.” 

Suddenly, it felt like all the air had been punched out of Nico. The ground beneath him felt like it was moving, propelling him to the floor.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Did you just say you love him?” Nico asked. Shit, it sounded defensive and angry.

“Um, yeah?” Will’s eyebrows started to narrow, his face colored. “Why?”

“That’s fucking stupid, that’s what,” he answered. He couldn’t shut up. If he stopped, he’d get swept up in the turmoil currently raging in his chest, and Will couldn’t see him that way.

“What the fuck, Nico?”

“What?” he snapped. “I’m your best friend, I’m supposed to be honest, right? You know this guy for a fucking month-”

“It’s been more than a month, you dick-”

“Whatever! It hasn’t been long enough for you to say you fucking love him, Will.”

Will stared at him silently. Where Nico was doing his best not to cry, Will obviously didn’t care if Nico saw how badly he hurt him. His blue eyes filled with tears that fell, each a hammer to Nico’s heart as they traced over his freckled cheeks. He stood up and shoved his chair in, not even looking at Nico. “Fuck you, man.”

He walked away and Nico felt his entire body collapse into his seat. His hands shook almost violently. It took everything in him not to break down right there in his seat.

There was a part of him, a selfish part that was angry with Will. Nico stuck by his side for so long, and he fell in love with someone he knew for a fucking month? Of course he knew he wasn’t entitled to Will’s feelings because he knew him longer. He knew that wasn’t how the world worked. But it hurt. It hurt to know Will would never see him that way, that Nico would continue the rest of his life watching Will love someone else. He knew it might happen someday, but this soon? This suddenly?

Nico stood up and walked out of the food court, already decided on skipping his next class. He headed for his apartment and went straight to his bed. The second he had a pillow in his face, he broke. A sob erupted from his chest, and it unleashed all the cries he held back before.

The hours passed in a blur. It felt stupid to cry over someone Nico never had to begin with. He knew he’d hurt Will’s feelings. He’d called him stupid. He demeaned his feelings. Nico had no idea if he could redeem himself, but he had to try.

He grabbed his phone and wiped away the tears that stubbornly continued to pour from his eyes. He typed, erased, typed again, and erased again. Then he figured he just had to be honest.

I’m sorry Will. I was a dick, and I know that. I’m just protective of you and don’t want you getting hurt. I’m sorry if I made you feel stupid because you’re not. Please forgive me. Pizza on me in an hour?

It was a tradition they had. Whenever they argued with each other, making up meant ordering the other’s favorite pizza and showing up at their door. Nico figured Will would need time to respond. Pizza pick-up took about 20 minutes, and driving took another twenty at this hour.

Nico placed the pizza order and worked on making his face look like he hadn’t been crying for over an hour. He got into his car to get the pizza and once he picked it up, he checked his phone again. No response.

Nico dialed, but it went to voicemail immediately. A few seconds after, a message came in.

I just need space.

That was it. No further Will-style explanation, no “see you later,” no… nothing. Nico stared at the pizza currently placed on his passenger seat. He sighed and put his hand against his burning eyes.

Then he picked up his phone again and dialed. This time there was an answer.

“Hey. Thought I scared you off.”

“You want some pizza, by chance? I could get out of my apartment and I can’t finish it alone.”

Leo hummed on the other end. “What kind of pizza?”

“Meat lover’s.”

Nico could almost hear the smirk on the other end. “Sounds perfect. I’ll text you my address.”

He hung up and surely enough, a text came in. Nico found his place relatively easily. He knocked and within a few moments, the door opened to Leo in boxers and a T-shirt, his hair unruly, but his smirk ever present.

“You… downgraded.”

Leo scoffed and looked Nico up and down. “I figured a booty call is desperate enough to overlook my late night lounging appearance. And you sure know how to make a guy feel special.” Nico grimaced and held up the pizza. Leo’s smile widened, and he let Nico in. “Make yourself at home.”

Nico walked in and set the pizza on the small coffee table in front of the TV. Leo walked back with a bottle of a red salsa in his hand. “You’re not a booty call, by the way,” Nico said as he opened the box. He ignored the twist in his stomach when he thought that he was supposed to be eating this with Will.

“Right, so you just happened to order a pizza you knew you wouldn’t finish alone?” Nico winced and grabbed a slice before picking off the sausage and ham. “And one you don’t even like,” Leo noted. “So what gives? What happened to the original pizza eating partner?”

“He’s mad at me. Because I said some shitty things. I just didn’t know he was this mad at me.”

“Hm. This friend you like? The blond?” Nico nodded. “What’d you say?”

Nico sighed and shook his head. “You don’t have to pretend to care, Leo. I know it’s dumb, and I know it was shitty of me to have come here too, but….”

Leo shook his head and nudged Nico with his foot. “Hey, come on. I know I came off a little strong when I left, but…. Look, I had a good time with you. Although I would very much like to make out with you again, I don’t mind if we don’t go on dates. I wouldn’t mind being your friend. I mean you already admitted you’re into someone else, so…. Think you could use another friend?”

Nico looked at him with a tired, but appreciative smile. “Yeah, I could.” Leo nodded and gave a half bow where he sat as though presenting himself. Nico laughed and toasted with his slice of pizza.

After a moment of silent eating, Leo cleared his throat. “So… what'd you say?”

Nick sighed and frowned at his slice of pizza. “I heard him telling his boyfriend he loved him on the phone.” Leo sucked a breath through his teeth in sympathy pain. “And so I wouldn't cry, I did the next thing I could think of. I got angry. And I told him he was being stupid because he didn't know this guy. He got pissed and he left and I… cried as soon as I got home.”

Leo sighed and scooted closer. “You do know you're the idiot, right?” Nico looked at him in surprised fury, but Leo didn't seem bothered by it. “Nico, this guy already has a boyfriend taking up his time, and you're spending the time you have with him pushing him away.”

“I know! I know. I just... reacted.” He put his pizza down and covered his face with his hands. “I don't know what to do.”

There was a long pause before Leo answered. “You live with it, Nico. You accept it, let him go, and be a good friend. He's happy. You want him to be happy, right?”

Nico nodded, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. “I just wish it were with me,” he whimpered.

Leo wrapped an arm around him. “Yeah. I know.” Nico focused on keeping his tears at bay. He couldn't cry again. Especially in front of someone he barely knew. “He's gonna forgive you. Just give him some time. Remind him you're ready to talk when he is.” Nico nodded again and, for the millionth time that week, wished he could give Leo a chance.

But Nico didn't need someone to swoon after. He needed someone to trust.

**

The hand smoothing up and down his back felt intrusive at that moment. Will wanted to be alone. He wanted to sulk and think by himself like he always did when he got upset with Nico. But Sebastian insisted he shouldn’t be alone, and even if he couldn’t help, he wanted to be there.

“What do you care what he thinks anyway, baby?” he asked. Will sighed glared at the wall. “I told you. He’s just jealous, and you don’t want to see it.”

“Stop,” Will snapped. “You don’t know Nico. Not like I do.”

There was a pause, filled with tension. When Sebastian spoke again, there was something in his voice that made Will’s skin crawl with shame. “Should I be worried about this guy?”

He sighed and turned to face Sebastian. “No. But he’s my best friend.” Sebastian sighed, his entire body deflating like he was giving up. Will cupped his face and kissed him softly. “I love you, okay? You know that. Even if he doesn’t think I should, it won’t change that I do. Nico’s pessimistic.”

Will felt his phone buzz and he pulled it out to see a message from Nico. Sebastian read over his shoulder.

I’m sorry Will. I was a dick, and I know that. I’m just protective of you and don’t want you getting hurt. I’m sorry if I made you feel stupid because you’re not. Please forgive me. Pizza on me in an hour?

The pizza tradition. Will was still angry, but this was always their way back to normal. Nico owned up to his shitty behavior, and Will could forgive him for it.

Just as he pressed on the reply box, he heard Sebastian sigh. “Will…. Please. Don’t answer him. Not after what he said.” Will started to protest, but Sebastian interrupted. “If you keep forgiving him, how do you know he even means it? You let him off so easily, and I just….” He leaned his forehead against Will’s, his voice breaking. “If you really love me, don’t do this. Please.”

“What does it matter if I answer?” Will asked in exasperation.

“God dammit, Will!” Sebastian shouted, shoving Will off and standing up to pace. Will scoffed and crossed his arms. “Don’t you get it? It feels like you’re choosing him over me. You’re ready to forgive him over a text, and you won’t even consider me asking you not to indulge him. He’s manipulating you, Will! How can you not see that?”

Will frowned and stared at his phone. “No he’s not….”

“Oh come on, look at the text, babe. He’s got this half ass apology, an excuse for what he did, and he just assumes you’ll forgive him with a pizza.” Will hesitated, his instincts preparing him to defend this friend he knew like the back of his hand. “If you make excuses for him, then I know he’s got you wrapped around his finger. And I don’t think I want to compete with someone like that for you.”

Something twisted in his stomach. The defeat in Sebastian’s voice, the slump of his shoulders, the somber look in his hazel eyes. “Baz, what do you mean?” He didn’t answer. “Are you breaking up with me?” Sebastian put his hands to his face and took a deep breath. “Sebastian, please!” Will stood up and pulled his hands away. “Hey, you’re not competing, okay? We’re not breaking up. I… I can talk to Nico some other time, okay? Please.”

Sebastian sighed and wrapped his arms around him. “I don’t want to lose you.” Will shook his head. “I don’t think he’s a good person….”

Will sighed. “Baz. Love, he’s just my friend. I know him. He’s pessimistic and abrasive, but he means well. I can’t just cut him out of my life, and I’m not going to, but that doesn’t mean I’m choosing him over you. I’m with you. I’m defending you. Okay?” Sebastian hid his face in the crook of Will’s neck. “I’ll set some boundaries with him. I promise.”

The way Sebastian clung to him made his heart ache. The last thing Will wanted to do was hurt him. He ran his fingers through his soft brown curls, soothing him. When the tension left his body, Sebastian pulled himself up and kissed him softly.

He felt Sebastian press him down gently, his body enveloping Will’s in warmth.

Then his phone rang. Sebastian cursed under his breath, his voice dripping with disappointment. Will immediately rejected the call, and looked at Sebastian apologetically. “I’m sorry. I have to answer or he’ll keep calling.”

Will took a breath and typed a response, feeling guilty as he pressed send.

I just need space.

“There. No more,” Will said, exaggerating as he put his phone on the other end of the table. “I’m all yours.”

Sebastian smirked and slid his hand into Will’s. “Yeah? All mine?” Will smiled and nodded, prepared for the way Sebastian scooped him up in his arms. He laughed and met his lips in a hungry kiss that quickly escalated the second they reached the bed.

--

The next day, Sebastian woke him up with a series of lazy kisses. Will hummed and ran his hand through his hair. “I gotta go to class,” he sighed. Sebastian hummed in affirmation, but kept trailing kisses along his throat. “I love you so much.”

Sebastian chuckled softly and rested his head on Will’s chest. “You’re so sappy in the morning.”

“It’s what you love about me.”

Sebastian hummed and nuzzled his face into him. “Mm. Yeah.”

As much as Will loved being cozied up with him like that in the morning, he had to get up. He couldn’t afford to miss class. He disentangled himself from his boyfriend and started getting ready.

As soon as Will was in his car and on his way to work, he felt his stomach tighten. Something heavy settled over his chest. He and Nico rarely went this long without talking, and even though Will wasn’t actually that mad anymore, it felt strange. Because there was no pizza. There was no over-the-top grovelling to make the other laugh. There was no hug or TV binging. It was just left up there, the topic and the feelings souring.

He wondered if Nico was okay the night before. He knew Nico got really anxious when they were upset with each other, even if it was Nico upset with Will. Part of him felt bad for blowing him off, but the other part of him kept thinking about what Baz said.

Over the last few days, Baz kept suggesting that Nico wasn’t happy about Will’s relationship with him. Will knew that wasn’t true because Nico had told him he’d warmed up to Sebastian, and Nico didn’t lie to Will. Still, Will kept turning the concept around in his head.

He couldn’t fathom Nico being jealous of Sebastian. He couldn’t fathom Nico being interested in him because they’d spent so long being friends and becoming comfortable with each other. Sebastian didn’t get their relationship, so maybe it did seem like something more. After all, they were constantly asked if they were a couple by people who didn’t know them.

He wasn’t wrapped around Nico’s finger. And Nico wasn’t wrapped around his. They were equals. They were best friends. They just needed to talk.

Will kept an eye out for Nico throughout the day, expecting to see his leather jacket, and turning at any sign of messy dark hair. Even when they usually got lunch, Nico wasn’t there. It got to the point where Will was so worried he could feel it manifesting physically.

Without thinking, Will started for his apartment once he was done with classes and knocked rapidly on his door. It opened to a very surprised Nico.

“Where have you been?” Will asked as he released a relieved breath.

“Um. Class? Then here? What?”

“I was looking for you all day, Neeks-”

“Should I go?” WIll froze as he processed a different voice. He looked past Nico and saw the same guy from a few days ago on his couch, gathering things into his backpack. Leo, if he remembered correctly.

“No, you’re fine,” Nico said. He turned back to Will, ushering him inside as he shut the door. “Why didn’t you text me? You said you needed space, so… I figured I would stay out of your way.”

Will bit his lip and rubbed his face to hide his embarrassment. “I seem to keep forgetting phones exist when I get anxious….” He recalled the day he was looking for Nico at the club and had to be reminded that a call would make things easier. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.”

“You’re not,” Nico assured. “Look, I really am sorry about what I said yesterday. I know it was out of line-”

“I believe you. And it’s okay, I know how you are. Honestly, it wouldn’t have felt right if you didn’t think I was stupid for saying I love him so quickly. But I do.” Nico smiled sadly at him and nodded. There was something that felt condescending about that, but with Nico it had to be baby steps. Considering his reaction yesterday, this smile was a huge step. Will let out a sigh and then brought Nico into a hug. “I’m sorry I blew you off yesterday.”

“It’s alright. I know I upset you.”

Will looked over his shoulder and noticed Leo glancing at them before looking back at his work. “Shit, I’m being rude.” Will let go and walked over to the couch. “Hey, it’s good seeing you again.”

“You too,” he answered with a wide smile. “We’re on a study date, did you want to join?”

He heard an echo of Sebastian’s words. You know he likes you, right? He’s just jealous. You trust him too much.

Maybe the only reason Sebastian was so wary of Nico was because he didn’t know him. Maybe he was scared to lose Will. But if Will showed him that he had nothing to worry about, if Sebastian saw that Nico was obviously interested in someone else, then all that tension and animosity would stop.

“Oh, no, I don’t want to intrude.” Nico started to say something, but the last thing Will needed was for Leo to start thinking like Baz was and end up ruining things for Nico. “Actually, would you guys be up for a double date?” Nico’s eyebrows went way up, and Leo looked over at him looking just as surprised. “I just, I figured it’d be cool if we all got together and stuff. We could go to an arcade or skating rink or something.”

“Oh, I-”

“I’m up for it,” Leo said. He yanked Nico by his shirt so he toppled onto him on the couch, and laughed at the surprised yelp. “What do you say?” Leo rested his chin on Nico’s shoulder.

“Um…. I don’t know,” he said.

Will felt his chest deflate. He couldn’t bear to think that the two people he cared about most would never get along.

“I mean, I guess what the hell? It could be fun,” Nico said. Will looked at him and smiled widely. “Just let me know when, okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, for sure!” He noticed Leo nuzzle into Nico’s neck, his teeth grazing along his earlobe. Nico elbowed him slightly, and Will felt himself blush. He was very much intruding. “Um, so I’ll go now. I need to seclude myself in the library for a paper. But I’ll text you and we can set everything up.”

Nico peeled himself away from Leo and followed him to the door. “Um, hey. So we’re okay, right?”

Will smiled at him and nodded. “Of course. Now go enjoy the rest of your study date,” he said with a wink. Nico scoffed and laughed at him as he left.

When he got home, Baz was in the middle of making food for him. He was even wearing an apron and the sight made Will’s heart melt. Sebastian smiled when he caught Will’s gaze. “Hey, baby. What are you looking at?”

“An amazing boyfriend who makes me feel like the luckiest guy in the world.” Sebastian laughed and Will walked over to him, wrapping his arms around his middle as he cooked. “How was your day?”

“Good. I went to work and left early. Saw my sister for lunch. And now I get to make you dinner. How was yours?”

“It went by pretty fast. And I talked to Nico.” Sebastian hummed, clearly displeased. “He apologized again. And he was with that guy we saw him with the other day. Leo? It was kind of weird, I’ve never seen Nico act cuddly or touchy with anyone.” He nearly added “else” at the end, but he figured that wouldn’t be a good idea for Sebastian. “I suggested a double date.”

Sebastian froze. “You what?” Before Will could answer, Baz freed himself from his hold and turned to face him. “You didn’t even ask me.”

“Oh. Well, it was just the idea. We didn’t make plans….”

“Will, you can’t just offer me up for a date with someone who hates my guts-” WIll tried to interrupt, but Sebastian snapped. “Don’t defend him!” Will bit his tongue and sighed. “Food’s almost ready. Just forget it.”

He did. At least for the duration of dinner. It was awkward with how quiet it was. Once he was done eating, Will took a breath. “Sebastian, Nico means a lot to me. He’s my best friend, and he has been for years. I’m sorry it upsets you, but I’m not going to give up years of friendship for you, no matter how much I love you. And I would like it if you tried to be his friend. Could you please do that? For me?”

He watched as Baz put his hands on his face, his anger clear in the tension of his shoulders. “What you’re telling me… is that if I asked you to choose… you’d choose him.”

Will waited for Sebastian to look at him. “Don’t ask me to choose. There’s no need to.”

Sebastian scoffed. His chair scraped the floor as he pushed away from the table, the sound making Will cringe. He started angrily shoving plates into the sink, and Will stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the childish pettiness he was showing.

He got up and went to his room to shower and get ready for bed. He thought Sebastian would leave, but he hadn’t. He just sat in the living room, watching TV, but he looked dazed. Will figured he needed his space to cool off, so he went to bed.

Will tended to fall asleep relatively quickly, and that night was no different. Then he woke up to the feeling of hands pulling his clothes away slowly, kisses pressed along his neck.

“Baz?” Sebastian hushed him, his hands trailing along his body.

Will figured this was Sebastian’s prideful way to apologize. The gentle touches and the soft breaths and tender kisses. He placed his trust in Sebastian’s hands until he felt like he was blossoming with each movement. The strength of Baz’s muscles under his hands made him shiver and all he could do was fall apart when he began to speed up.

Will wasn’t even conscious of the world around him- he was too high, too pent up, too sensitive. All he knew was that his release was close and he was being held by the person he loved.

Then he heard Sebastian’s gruff voice in his ear, choppy with the way his movements stuttered and how breathless he was.

“He could never fuck you like this.”

The words doused the fire spreading along Will’s body. He opened his eyes, staring at the dark ceiling in confusion. Suddenly it was too hot, Sebastian was too heavy, he wanted him out and off of him. But he was already grunting through his orgasm in Will’s ear, his breaths wet and hot at his neck.

It was a spiteful fuck. As if he were showing Will what he would be missing if he let him go. It made Will feel hurt and… used. Sebastian hadn’t touched him because he loved him and he was sorry. He did it because he wanted to prove something.

Will remained quiet as Sebastian got up to piss. He remained quiet as Sebastian settled into bed and wrapped an arm around his torso. He remained quiet as he listened to his breaths slow until he fell asleep.

And then he pushed his hand away and curled himself around a spare pillow. It felt harder to fall asleep then.

-

The next morning, Will woke up with a flustered gasp and silently thanked any god in existence for the fact that Sebastian had an early shift that day.

At first, he couldn’t think. He was only warm with all the memories of his dream. Once his brain caught up, he started racing through explanations.

He’d had dreams where he was dating Nico. A couple dreams of a kiss, holding hands, or being on a date. They were so often confused for a couple, that it only made sense. He’d told Nico about the dreams and they’d laughed it off especially when Nico admitted he’d had those dreams too at some point.

But Will had never, ever, had a sex dream about Nico.

He tried to reason through it. His subconscious had been influenced by seeing the way Nico acted with Leo the day before. By the fact that Sebastian hadn’t even let him finish and that stupid, shitty comment he left him with. That was all.

But it had been so vivid. Will still felt flustered even as he squirmed to find a cool spot on his pillow and his mattress.

His tongue in his mouth, his teeth at his lip, his nails scraping down his back…. Will groaned and tried to keep the images away, but it was as though his brain was thinking about them more because he wasn’t supposed to. He could feel the ghost of Nico’s hand pushing his hair away from his forehead, light and ticklish as they slid down his chest. He woke up before he could finish in his dream, but… it had been so good.

Stop thinking about it! he chided himself. He got up out of bed, resolute on never telling Nico and definitely never telling Sebastian. That dream would follow him to his grave. Still a small part of his brain wondered if that’s what it would be like. Nico had sucked his lips to the point of numbness in his dream. Was that how he kissed? Was that… how he fucked?

It didn’t matter. It wasn’t for Will to know. And he had to stop thinking about it.

He washed his face, cooling himself down before grabbing his phone.

Neeks!!!: We up for lunch today?

Will felt himself blush, embarrassment and shame filling him up. He figured he may as well face Nico so he could go back to normal as soon as possible. So he answered, confirming that they could meet at the foodcourt before he ignored his phone in favor of getting ready for school.

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian one-shot - “Second Chances” (Rated PG13)

For the first time in Kurt and Sebastian's relationship, Sebastian gets to have a little one and one time ... with Kurt's mother. (2253 words)

This was another part of the story that came a little further in the future than the immediate end of the story, so I'm uploading it as a one-shot. It's basically just to let everyone know that no matter how angsty things get in the story, everything turns out all right in the end. Warning for angst and mention of cancer.

Part 6 of Outside Edge.

Read on AO3.

“Oh, o-okay … whoa, now … WHOA!”

“Am I going too fast?”

“No, I just … can we make the ice less slippery or something?”

“You’re doing great, Mom,” Kurt says, holding his mother’s hands as he leads a wobbly-kneed Elizabeth Hummel around the ice. Her legs inch slowly out to the sides, her toes pointing in at one another, and she slides to a stop. Kurt pulls. Her body moves forward, but not her skates, her toe picks catching on a perpendicular cut in the ice that keeps her from going any farther.

“Uh, Kurt … I think I’m stuck.”

“I think you are, too.”

Elizabeth throws her head back and laughs as Kurt maneuvers to her right side to help her over.

“Ha-ha! I can’t believe I’m doing this!”

“I always believed you could,” Kurt says, gingerly lifting her up and onto the flat of her blades. It takes him no effort at all, heartbreakingly hard for him to comprehend that a grown woman can feel so light. “You’ll be doing double-axels again in no time. You watch.”

Elizabeth shakes her head, her thin fingers clutching on to her son’s shoulders for dear life. “You have far more faith in me than I deserve, honey.”

“Mom, you’ve been done with chemo for how long and you’re already back in skates?”

“That’s because I’m insane.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, taking hold of her hands again, “but you didn’t think you’d be able to stand for longer than a minute, and you’re already doing so much better than the kids in my pre-alpha class.”

Elizabeth looks at her son, a nostalgic smile lifting her lips at the handsome, talented young man he’s become, with her blue eyes, but otherwise so much like his father. She risks letting go of one hand to press her gloved palm to his cheek. “That’s because I have an excellent teacher.”

He takes her hand and kisses it, eyes shimmering with tears that have been lingering there for months.

“Are you guys talking about me again?” Sebastian asks, sliding to a T-stop at Kurt’s side. “Because it’s just getting embarrassing now.”

“Hey, Bas.” Kurt leans left, accepting a kiss on the cheek. Kurt doesn’t really do PDA, especially not in front of his mother. But the last few months of adjusting to his mom being out of the hospital – the excitement of her being in remission, the anxiety of not knowing whether or not her cancer will come back again, her complicated medication schedule, the list of approved and unapproved foods … He skates to remove himself from the ache in his chest that comes with helping care for his mother, and he screams silently behind his smiles when it gets to be too much. The only person he tells any of this to is his boyfriend. And Sebastian has come through for him, his pillar of strength when things get tough. So Kurt will accept all of the hugs and kisses from his boyfriend he can get, whenever he can get them

“Hey, Sebastian,” Elizabeth says. “No coaching today? Or are you just over here annoying my son?”

“A little bit of both. Stick time isn’t for another half-hour on the South Rink so I thought I’d join you guys.”

“Well, we’re glad to have you.” Elizabeth beams as she slides by him at a snail’s pace. “We need one more set of arms to catch me when I fall.”

“You haven’t fallen yet,” Kurt reminds her.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t,” she sings. “Even at my best, I think I landed my jumps on my butt more than I did my feet.”

“Ouch.” Sebastian chuckles. “And yet, you still won a gold medal.”

“Meh. They were giving them out like Pez back then. I think the guy who drove the Zamboni got one.”

“Mom …” Kurt says, scolding his mother for being unnecessarily self-deprecating. Her doctor told him that one of the most important things he could do for his mother is to keep her upbeat. The road to recovery is hard. She can’t expect to be back at 100% right away – even if that 100% was actually closer to 75% before the chemo. So no insulting herself, and no bringing herself down.

Some days, that’s easier said than done.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she says, sweeping non-existent hair off her shoulders with a cocky shake of her head. “I’m amazing.”

“Hey, Kurt! Can I talk to you a sec?”

Kurt looks over his shoulder at Jane, waving at him from the far side of the rink.

“Can it wait?” he asks. “I’m kinda busy.”

“One of the boys in your alpha class wants to take private lessons. His parents say he asked for you specifically.”

Kurt looks past Jane’s shoulder out the glass and sees two people he recognizes as Barry Severson’s mom and dad, smiling at him and waving like he’s some sort of super star. Well, in this small pond, he kind of is. Admittedly, he’s wanted to be for a while. Some days, he can’t believe he did it. He fought and conquered; got the throne and the guy. Someday he’ll find a way to sell the movie rights to his story.

Maybe they can get Sterling Beaumon to play him.

“Okay,” he says. “Just give me one second.”

Kurt turns back to his mom, grinning at him with a pride that’s almost painful to look at. Kurt thought his mom wouldn’t live to see him win a medal. And now, here he was with a handful in his trophy case, along with students of his own earning medals, and he’s not even in college yet.

But it wouldn’t have mattered to Elizabeth Hummel if her son was a street sweeper, as long as he was a happy street sweeper.

“I can take care of your mom for a little bit,” Sebastian offers, already reaching out to take her hands. “Unless you’d rather sit, Mrs. Hummel.”

Elizabeth looks from her son to his boyfriend with a sly grin on her face. “No, I think I’d like to keep skating, thank you. You go, honey. Sebastian can take care of me.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Kurt gives her a peck on the cheek, then turns to Sebastian and points a finger in his face. “Don’t you dare let her fall!”

“Really, Kurt? I’m surprised at your lack of faith in me.”

Kurt stares at Sebastian, sees genuine hurt in his eyes, and sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, shelving a sarcastic remark because, in reality, the only other person he would trust on the ice with his mother beside himself is Sebastian. Sebastian knows how important Kurt’s mother is to him.

He might play the fool sometimes, but he’s also a responsible, compassionate person when it counts.

He’ll do everything in his power to keep her safe.

Kurt hands his mother off. He glides backward a few feet, watching to ensure that Sebastian has everything under control, then changes face and heads off the ice.

Sebastian watches his boyfriend go, increasingly aware that he is now alone on the ice with Elizabeth Hummel, cancer survivor and one of the most important people in Kurt’s life. Sebastian turns his attention to her, who’s looking up at him still with that sly grin on her face.

“Well,” he says, feeling awkward without Kurt there to act as a buffer between them. “Did you want to keep going around? Or did you want to go across?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m brave enough to go across just yet,” Elizabeth says. “My eyes haven’t adjusted to all the white ice.”

“Okay. We’ll just continue the way you guys were going then.”

“Yes, please.”

Sebastian holds her hands gently in his and starts backwards. Sebastian didn’t know Kurt’s mom before they started dating. Elizabeth Hummel only started accompanying her son to practices when her oncologist transferred her to a hospital nearby for treatment. She seems smaller not wrapped in the heavy blankets and jackets she brought with her to wear when she sat in the penalty box. Her hands, stuffed inside fluffy, red-knitted gloves, feel frail inside his, and he’s afraid that if he squeezes too hard, he might break something. Suddenly, he’s way more anxious being in charge of her than he was before.

He starts wondering if this is how Kurt feels when he’s with her.

“You know, this is the first time that you and I have gotten to spend a moment alone together,” Elizabeth says.

“Yes, it is,” Sebastian replies, with a forced smile because he has no clue what to say.

“I didn’t think you guys were going to make it at first. You had such a rocky start … then a rocky middle ...” Elizabeth teases Sebastian the same way Kurt does, with a tilt of her head and an innocent roll of her eyes. Sebastian would normally laugh, but he has too much pent up regret in his stomach to allow that.

“I know,” he says. “And I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.”

“Well, Kurt’s forgiven you, so I guess I can forgive you, too - bygones be bygones and all that jazz. Besides, it’s not me you have to worry about.” Her lips draw tight, but her eyes still laugh.

Sebastian swallows hard. For a second, the ice tilts beneath him, then it pops back into place too quickly. “S-so I’ve been told.”

Elizabeth savors the shade of pale her son’s boyfriend becomes, but she can’t hold on to her stern expression too long. She sputters a laugh. It comes out wicked, even though it isn’t meant to be. “Don’t you worry about Kurt’s dad. He just wants what’s best for his son. There were a few months there where he thought he would end up being a single father, and he was scared. But since I’m still around, I’ll put in a good word for you.” It’s morbidly easy the way she says it, as if she didn’t just mention the possibility of her own death and then dismiss it in the same breath. She must have thought about it a lot, Sebastian figures, if she can be so offhanded about it.

“I’d appreciate that,” Sebastian says with a hard lump in his throat. He feels himself tearing up and fights against it, but Elizabeth notices, especially after Sebastian sniffs and looks away.

“Oh, Sebastian.” She pulls herself closer as Sebastian slows to a stop. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to bring down the heavy or anything.”

“It’s not that. It’s just … sometimes I think about how things were before Kurt and I started going out, how I used to treat him, not knowing about the things going on in his life, and I kind of can’t help hating myself.”

“Honey” – Elizabeth puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, offering comfort, but the lack of strength in her fingers does the opposite. It reminds Sebastian of what an incredible asshole he was while Kurt thought his mother was going to die – “you didn’t know.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t need to to know not to be mean to him. And, to be honest, had I known, I probably would have still been mean to him because the only thing that mattered at the time was getting ahead.”

“Well, is that the only thing that matters now?”

Sebastian shakes his head glumly. “No, it’s not.”

“Then I would say you learned a valuable lesson, wouldn’t you?” Elizabeth attempts to give Sebastian a playful punch on the shoulder. He has to lean in to it when she fails to reach his arm.

“Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

“Plus, it came with a pretty awesome ending, if I do say so myself.” Elizabeth’s gaze travels past Sebastian to the opposite side of the rink, where Kurt is saying his goodbyes to the Seversons and re-entering the ice. Sebastian watches him, bright smile aimed their way as he speeds over, and he can’t stop smiling back. Kurt’s smile has that effect on him.

Kurt has that effect on him.

“On your right, Smythe!”

Sebastian hears the boys coming before he sees them - two hockey players trying to force one another into the wall. A dodge and spin turns into one boy hitting it head on, and the other sliding to a stop too close for comfort. Sebastian jumps on instinct to avoid a hit, remembering Kurt’s mom at the last second. At their close proximity, he manages to grab her around the middle and move her out of the way, but he underestimates her weight. It throws him off-balance, sending him toppling backward. He lands on his back with Kurt’s mother squarely, and safely, on top of him.

“Mom!” Kurt yells, putting on speed.

Elizabeth giggles, face and eyes glowing as she reaches out for her son. “I told you I was going to fall.”

“Are you alright!?” But even with cheeks burning red, Kurt laughs through his worry. His mother looks positively joyful, struggling to get up off Sebastian’s stomach.

“Yeah, baby. It’s all good. Your boyfriend broke my fall.”

“Yup,” Sebastian groans. “Along with my spine.”  

“I guess he couldn’t hold all 130 pounds of me, huh?”

“Mom” – Kurt grabs his mother’s arms at the elbows and helps her up – “there’s no way you’re 130 yet.”

“Believe me,” Sebastian grumbles, waiting for Elizabeth to stand before he tries to move, “I think she might be.”

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Happiness Overload Chapter Seven

T'was a night like any other: a night where I'd get ta slaughter anotha' po' sap. Knew it right as I stood in tha lab wit' good ol' Dr. Etna, head o' tha Etna Corp and creator o' tha ETNA project. Neva 'eally cared fo' titles or profession. All tha' really matters, 'nyway 's tha' far's I'm concerned, my life's 'n 'er hands.

″The one you are after will be approaching tonight. You will get your chance,″ she told me. ″You know what to do. You were made for this.″

Broad 'as righ', o' course. Ah didn't break outta jail so I could settle down. Li'l cunt'll rue tha day 'ey went 'n' escaped. Wit' my trusty hacksaw, my pants 'ere a itchin' fo' blood.

Too many hallways. It was too hard to imagine just where any of them led. Too many dangers, too much unknown. This whole place was too much of a maze. It. Was. All. Too. Much.

I clutched my head. If only I had four arms, I would have clutched my chest, as well. Both were pounding and it didn't help that a loud girl couldn't keep her mouth shut in spite of the threat of armed guards at every corner. At least this place itself was silent enough that I could have made out their footsteps.

″I'M SO HAPPY TO BE WALKING WITH BLANC!″ Euphy skipped along the hallway. If she knew she were in any danger, she didn't show it on her face.

I shushed her. ″Can't you see we're in trouble here?″ I asked, my voice hushed.

″THERE'S NO TROUBLE TO BE HAD WHEN YOU'RE HAPPY!″

I sighed. If I were being honest with myself, I had a strong doubt that I would survive this ordeal. At the least, I wanted her to be safe. This cute girl I didn't even know.

Footsteps could be heard. Marching. Getting louder. Of the other doubts I had, there was little that the owners of said footsteps were armed guards, coming our way.

″Run!″ I jolted up and grabbed her hand. She started blabbing, but I drowned her out.

As soon as we came to a crossroads, I stopped. We could have gone forward, left, or right.

″Which way leads to the exit?″ I demanded, my breath getting short. No way was I in good shape and I knew it wouldn't be long before I couldn't run.

″LEFT!″

I nodded. I knew which way I had to go, then.

″Good. You go there. I'll go right.″

She put her hands on my shoulders. Her mouth was opening wider and wider, ever so slow. If she didn't hurry up and run, float, skip, or whatever else she did, we would both be dead. She didn't seem to care.

″WOULD THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY?″

I felt like a blood vessel was about to burst. I didn't have time for this. But I didn't want to yell at someone so pretty, either.

″Yes. Very much so. Will you go, now?″

She jumped to the left without another word.

Now that that was out of the way, I was free to bide as much time as I could, try to figure some way to survive just a little longer.

Pit of darkness and despair. That may as well be the place I entered. I cracked my knuckles and the mini-Ecstasy on my shoulder followed suit. We were ready to beat some ass to hell and back.

From the other end of the pit, a hidden door opened up, smoke spilled forward and a burst of light could be seen as a figure emerged, holding in their arms what must have been a rather large saw blade.

″Oi, cunt! Ya ready ta go?″ He bellowed. I recognized that voice right away; my archenemy.

″I've been waiting for this moment for a while now. Ready to exact my revenge,″ I called back with a grin slapped right on my face. The figure I so hated must have also been grinning. It disgusted me.

Just as the door closed, and darkness embraced me, spotlights shone onto the floor. I noticed the pile of corpses on my feet.

Gross. This must be the garbage chute, I thought.

Indeed, replied Ecstasy. Where the old bodies decompose while the clones take their place.

Maggots and other creatures of the insect world feasted upon thousands upon thousands of bodies, piled on and compacted to make one smooth floor. There was an overpowering smell, but I only smelled the chance to exact my revenge. Rotting flesh had no effect on me at this point.

″'Memba me name, mate?″ Asked the obvious, banging his fists together, seeming to disregard the fact that he was also holding a rather long hacksaw.

″How could I forget the name of the one person I wanted to kill?″ I remarked. ″Anchovy, wasn't it?″

″No!″ He spat. ″AL-BA-CORE! Get I' righ'!″ And with that, he ran toward me with his giant hacksaw, ready for a killing. Just as I was.

Along the corridors were several rooms. I turned each knob, but each were locked. It wouldn't be long now. I was making too much noise. Wasting too much time. I was going to be shot dead and my short life would come to a close.

At least, that's what I thought, until I saw a door ever so ajar. Never did I consider that there could be guards on the other side of the door, instead I pulled it open and slammed it shut without a second thought.

Inside was a large monitor, some buttons, and a few lockers. I didn't have much time to inspect the place. I could still hear footsteps. One of the lockers was open and in my desperation, I squeezed myself in, too full of fight-or-flight to be amazed at how well I fit inside. Too full of dread to panic when I closed the locker on myself, not for a second worrying that I would be stuck in there.

The running footsteps ran by without the door opening or anyone stepping in. Before I could let out a sigh of relief, however, smoke filled the locker, already obscuring my vision of what surrounded me, not to mention made me feel like I was suffocating. I tried to hold my breath; if I were to cough, those soldiers would be sure to hear and storm in guns blazing.

With a pop, the locker opened up and I fell to the floor with a loud thud. My body felt a stinging surge and for some reason, it still felt as dark as it did when I was in that locker. I picked myself up, my clothes feeling bulkier. No footsteps could be heard this time. I checked out my hands; some metallic gloves were on me. I didn't yet put two and two together until I saw a reflection of myself on the monitor: a full suit of armor covered me. Similar in appearance to those guards in the transit station and the ones chasing Euphy and I down the halls. Wherever she was, I hoped that she was okay.

I couldn't open any of the other lockers, but I imagined the same way it got put over me must be how those mercenaries or whatever it is they were, got dressed. It didn't really seem plausible, though. I tried imagining some hunk of muscle like Dwayne Johnson trying to fit inside a locker. The image just didn't form. I shook my head, the helmet covering it not allowing me to turn it completely.

I walked back toward the door feeling a little more calm, my heart rate going back to normal. Now I could sneak around. I could blend in and none of those other guards, soldiers, mercenaries, whatever they are, would dare approach me. I felt like Solid Fucking Snake.

As soon as I opened the door, however, I was met once again with footsteps. I looked to my left and sure enough, they spotted me. Fear once again came a knockin' on the door to my heart. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't prepared for the possibility that they would actually approach me.

″Hey! What are you doing?″ One of them demanded, running up to me holding a rifle in their arms. Maybe that's what I was missing. If I had a rifle on me, I'd blend right in.

″I..uh..″ I tried to speak, noticing that my voice was similar to theirs. Somewhat muffled. I sounded like Darth Vader and I even looked it. Their armor was like a gold plated Darth Vader costume with tubes all over the place and green paint streaked across. On second thought, they looked kind of like one of those space marines in a video game, like Halo or something. Maybe they were from the future and used a time machine to get here.

″BLANC! THERE YOU ARE!″ Another voice called, much more high pitched. From the opposite end of the hall came running the figure of Euphoria as she crashed right into me with a tight hug.

I looked at those two approaching me and tried coming up with an alibi.

″What is she doing here? Don't you know to shoot trespassers on sight?″ The demands kept coming.

″I...uh...she's my daughter,″ I stammered.

The two turned and looked at each other. Euphoria didn't seem the least bit bothered. She nuzzled the torso of the armor I was wearing.

″D-Didn't you guys know? It's 'Take Your Daughter to Work Day' today.″

″Oh shit! That was today?″ One asked.

″I thought it wasn't until next week,″ the other pointed out.

″Shit! If I had known, I'd have brought my daughter.″

I can't believe this is working, I thought, sweat rolling down my face. Sweat from nervousness supplemented by the sweat from such a heavy and stuffy suit.

″Hey, watch your fuckin' language!″ I scolded them. ″She's only 12,″ I added, pointing down to the thing hugging me.

″Shit, sorry! I thought she was at least 17!″

Before I thought I was off the hook, the other one found room to scold me.

″It's fine if you have her around, but don't forget that you're on duty. No slacking around. We're still searching for two escapees who should have been shot on sight. If you see them, you know what to do.″

I shuddered. Pretty sure they meant me, but it's not like I could just tell them ″hey I'm right here, shoot me.″

As soon as they turned the corner and I could no longer hear them, I removed the helmet and took a huge sigh of relief.

″Ugh, it was hard to breathe in that thing,″ I complained while wiping sweat off my forehead. Another thing I forgot to mention was that it felt like I was wearing stilts wearing this armor. I was definitely not as tall as the armor made me feel. I looked down at Euphy, who was still squeezing me.

″Why did you come back for me, anyway?″ I asked.

″I SENSED THAT YOU WEREN'T HAPPY,″ was her response, which was loud enough to blow my hair back. She stood up and put her hands on her hips, grinning wide.

″Alright, well, guess we should get a move on, huh?″

″Chester McLaren, famed serial killer, locked up in a maximum security prison,″ Conrad paced around reciting as he watched Blanc down in some kind of pits facing off against a madman.

″Said to have died of starvation in prison,″ he continued. ″But there are conflicting reports. Some say he escaped, while others said he died in prison.″

He looked up. I was content to let him keep talking on and on. I've already started packing my bags. Or one bag, anyway. As much as I could fit inside a small jet. Whenever he got what he wanted out of watching Blanc, we would both head out.

″In reality, both of those reports are correct: The Flashbulb had a way to replicate his body while letting the original rot away in prison, as it should have.″

″How do you know this?″ I asked.

″Do you question my sources?″ He responded. As if he had any. Sure, after some of the shit I've seen, it wouldn't surprise me if what he said was true.

″No. Why would I question something you just say without provocation and with such confidence as to make it sound like fact?″ I mused.

I couldn't see Conrad's eyes, but I could sense a deathly glare.

″Was that...sarcasm?″

″No. Never.″

Just when I thought I would catch him surprise, he ducked underneath my punch and bit into my side. Chunks of flesh tore off and I could feel blood spilling. But it was an odd feeling in that I felt little to none of it. I was only aware of what was going on.

″Ow, the edge!″ I mocked, then retaliated with shadowed masses swirling across the punk dude's body and making various cuts. I couldn't get a clear picture but I could hear little hisses of pain. I relished in the agony in the air.

″Tha fuck, mate?″ He spat as he shoved his oversized hacksaw into my chest.

The saw tore through my insides as it came out the other side. I wasn't sure if it hit my heart but if it did, would I have even died? I wasn't sure. I wasn't even sure what my thoughts were. But I knew that blood spilled forth from my mouth as I reeled forward. I knew that short after, a moan of pure ecstasy spilled forth, disregarding or relishing in my own blood.

My arms grabbed the hacksaw and pulled it out from my chest. Shadows filled the missing chunks of skin and whatever guts I had. As soon as the hacksaw was out from me, I jumped back and stood a few meters away, still hunched back.

″Y-You think you're so tough?″ I inquired, a grin spreading across my face. I wondered if my teeth were just as jagged as this punk I wanted so badly to kill.

″FUCK YOU, MATE! I DRINK GLASS CLEANER ON THE DAILY!″ He roared, positioning himself in sort of a ″come at me″ stance.

″I'm pretty sure you'd die, but okay,″ I stood up now, a blank expression replacing my previous grin.

He charged at me with his hacksaw, ready to saw my arms off or my legs or even just rip me to shreds. Before I had time to react, a shadowy mass in the shape of an arm grew from the pores of my body and grabbed the hacksaw.

″'Ey! Leggo, ye cunt!″ Albuquerque (I think that's his name) grunted.

Rather than use it against him and kill him on the spot, I flung it across the room. I expected him to run for his weapon but instead he cannonballed into me instead, sprinting at speeds I didn't think imaginable.

″Oi! T'ink I needs a weapon, mate?″

He tried ramming his head into my stomach, but I turned just in time and he went barreling into the wall on the other side of the room. Just as he turned around, shaking off the head injury, I swiped at his back with the shadowed tentacles writhing from my open wounds.

Several little cuts formed and yet he remained undeterred.

I'm losing the thrill. I need to stop playing with my food, came thoughts. Ecstasy didn't have a response to them, but I didn't seem to mind. My very actions contradicted with my very thoughts; I wanted nothing more than to taunt and torment my would be killer before I finally got the revenge I so deserved.

I balled my fist. Before I could even get close to him, I tripped over a corpse and fell on the back of a few mangled corpses. The punk's laughter echoed in the darkness.

″Jus' made me whole job easier, mate!″ He cackled. As I struggled to make my way back up, only to slip on another body, he ran toward me.

Come on, get up! I thought a thought that could have been said by anyone in such a situation. The next sensation I felt however wasn't the struggle to get up followed by the aching one feels when they're sore all over and in pain as they stand up to their feet. Instead, I felt a swift kick in the stomach and blood that I didn't know I still had flew out of my mouth.

″Da's righ'! I don' need no 'acksaw! I gots me feets!″ He gave another heart cackle as he pulled something out of his pocket: a baton. I should have known he would have that. He had that same baton the first time I saw him back at the station.

He began beating my back with the baton, bruising my already bloody and torn body.

I was a fool to ever think I could get my revenge. A fool to think it would have been so easy. A fool to think I wouldn't get beaten up so badly by someone who wore something so...tacky. I mean, come on? What was he going for? Sex Pistols cosplay?

″Ya got me goo' fo' a bit there, mate! Bloody nasty, I tell ya wha'! Good fer ya tha' I'mma massachis' as well as sadis'! Kudos!″ He cheered my efforts while beating me senseless. Not that I had much sense before he started beating me, anyway.

I yawned. Conrad was staring at the multiple screens with such great intent at his friend being beaten up (if that could even constitute as his friend anymore) that I worried he would go blind. I was slouched against the desk, only making passing glances when I thought Conrad might be looking over to make sure I was paying attention as well. Of course I wasn't. This shit didn't concern me.

What did concern me was a distinct sound echoing just outside the door. It was faint at first but now it had me a little on edge.

″Conrad, we should go,″ I muttered, half-asleep.

″Not now. Don't you want to see if Blanc will defeat Chester, who for some reason is calling himself Albacore?″

″Conrad, we don't have time,″ I said a little louder.

″I don't want to miss it, tho--″ He was about to go on, as if it mattered whether we saw it as a recording or in real time. As if watching it at all even mattered. Why did he care when he wasn't even going to step in to help his so-called ″best friend″? He would have gone on, too. I was sure of it. The only thing stopping him was my sudden burst of energy I felt getting out of my seat and grabbing the top of his stupid hoodie and slapping his glasses right off of him.

His eyes were shrunken back into his skull, wrinkles and dark spots surrounding. It looked like a spreading virus. I never noticed before but his whole face looked much more shrunken than some kid in their early 20s had any right to look. More skeleton than human, as if I just entered the middle of a story by H.P. Lovecraft. I had to get hold of myself, look away from the horror that was beneath those glasses the whole time, and face the facts. We were in serious trouble.

″LISTEN TO ME! THERE ARE ARMED SOLDIERS COMING FOR US AT THIS VERY MOMENT! ANYTHING WE'VE DONE UP TO THIS POINT, IT WON'T MATTER IF WE'RE DEAD!″

He raised his hand, even though his arms were shaking. I looked down to see a wet spot on his crotch. I would have gone back into my usual never ending fit of laughter if not for the fear I was facing at that very moment. He was in fear. Both of my strength and likely of the same thing I was afraid of. Still, he spoke.

″You know, you shouting at me probably just alerted them to our location,″ he pointed out, with his shaky index finger pointing up, as if to make some point.

″What you just said was pointless,″ I growled. That was the breaking point.

He leaned down to pick up his glasses. I noticed that the frames had shattered on the metal floor. Oops. He put them back on anyway. I could still make out those poor excuses for eyes. They looked more like white slugs that crawled into caves and those caves just happened to have the title ″eye sockets″.

″My god, man. When's the last time you've slept?″ I muttered in spite of the footsteps drawing closer.

″Justice never sleeps,″ me mutters, then tapped his foot. ″How did they find us anyway?″ He pondered.

″Really?! You're going to pace and chalk it up to some trivial thing?!″

As incredulous as I was, I was much more dumbfounded when a hatch opened up beneath us.

″This rabbit hole goes deeper. Let's hop in,″ he said before putting his hands cross on his shoulders and jumped in. The soldiers must have stopped right outside the door now. Just a second of silence before gunshot fire railed against the door, the sound startling me back. I fell on my butt. I was lucky enough that the door was bulletproof, but it wouldn't take long before they found some way to knock it down.

I looked down the hole. I was about to jump when I noticed a ladder, so I climbed down instead. I reached my hand up to try to close the hatch, but I couldn't find any handle, and gave up on any further attempts. As I climbed down, I noticed the hatch closing on its own.

″Well I'll be,″ I remarked. I climbed down as fast as I could, not able to see what was below me.

Before long, I reached solid ground once more. I could hear the sound of the soldiers ransacking all the equipment we had, shooting it down as if they had an unlimited supply of bullets.

″They're probably going to eat my pop-tarts,″ I whined.

Something tugged at my leg. I yelped and kicked at whatever it could have been.

″Ow! Ow! What the fuck, Velvet?″ It was Conrad.

″Shit, sorry!″ I looked up and could still hear them thrashing about. They didn't hear us, thank goodness.

″What are you doing on the floor, anyway?″ I asked.

″There's a panel, but we can't fit through on our knees.″

″So we actually have to slither rather than crawl?″

″Precisely.″

″Greeeeaaaat,″ I groaned. Contrary to popular belief, I was not some secret agent who loved sneaking around in vents.

Conrad lifted the panel and went through first. I followed close behind him. I tried making idle chatter to ease the tension.

″I can't believe there was a place underneath our base the whole time,″ I brought up before Conrad shot me down.

″You and I both know that's not true.″

I scoffed. ″Fine. How much do you know?″

″Not enough.″

I didn't hear anything else for at least another minute.

He lifted me up by my cuff and I squirmed to no avail. My struggle made him laugh. It was disgusting. I should be the one laughing, not him. I tried headbutting him, but he held his baton up to my jaw.

″Oi, mate! Still gotta figure ou' jus' whatta do wit' ya!″ He stamped his foot. ″Mayb' take yer head 'n' make a candle outta it, aye?″

″I...I...″ I tried forming words to say something. If I were to die here, I would want to die having said something meaningful. Something profound.

″Eh? Got som'thin', ya li'l cunt?″

″If...you were a character, you'd be Shadow the Hedgehog,″ I wheezed, then pushed my legs back as tentacles shot out of my back and flooded him before forcing him to the corpse covered floor.

As he fell, he took me with him, only this time I was the one on top. He leaned his head up and took a bite off my shoulder, tearing a chunk of flesh. To add insult to injury, at the same time he kneed me in the crotch. I screamed and tried to headbutt him, only to find that his head felt like a brick and I never took karate lessons. I felt like I lost more brain cells attempting that than if I were to watch a marathon of some animated sitcom with pointless cutaway gags and humor that 12 year old kids would laugh at, and that's saying something.

He grabbed my right arm with both of his hands and pulled on it with such force that it tore off. I screamed once again, but not for long. Something was flooding my senses.

What should have been blood instead oozed a sort of mass of blackness. The mass took the shape of what my arm used to look like and the newly formed hand at the tip of this replacement arm balled into a fist to perform one task and one task only:

Slam itself into the face of this punk who thought he was oh, so hardcore.

One punch. Two. Both fists, now. Just over, and over, and over. Not even a hint of resistance. His face was getting bloodied. Bruises and pus. Teeth were falling out.

It was clear he was dying, but he didn't try to beg. He didn't let out any indication in his voice of pain. If anything, he looked to be enjoying it.

″Any last words?″ I asked before I would land the final blow.

″Fuck you, I'm knuckles!″ he spat out, even with some missing teeth it was pretty clear to tell what he was saying.

I just laughed. I couldn't believe he would choose that of all things. ″Oh my god, what a nerd!″ I jeered, then punched his lights out.

We continued our trek through wherever we were. I had to wear this suit the whole time just in case another set of those soldiers, guards, military police, whatever they were, showed up, but we were safe for now.

″It would make them happy to kill us but I would be happy not being killed by them. Seems like quite the impasse, wouldn't you say?″

″YOUR HAPPINESS IS THE BEST HAPPINESS!″ Euphy sang.

″Is that so?″

″EUPHY IS BLANC'S GUARDIAN ANGEL!″

I wanted to cry. Either from the heat under the helmet or the sentiment that I would have a guardian angel.

″Say, you spend all this time making others happy, but what about you? What makes you happy?″

Euphoria grinned her usual grin, or at least the one I had grown accustomed to after just a short while of spending with her. ″MAKING OTHERS HAPPY MAKES ME HAPPY!″ Was her response, and one I should have seen coming a mile away.

″You can't make everyone happy, though,″ I shook my head.

″NONSENSE!″ She uttered with such confidence that I almost believed her.

I remembered a time in 2nd grade when I brought a box of fruit snacks to class. I was going to eat them when the teacher caught me opening one of the packets and asked the age old question: ″do you have enough for the rest of the class?″ Me, in my feeble mind, didn't want to disappoint and say no, so I started handing out packets of fruit snacks. Things seemed fine until all the packages were handed out and there was just one kid who didn't have one. I decided to give the packet that I opened for myself to said kid, but in turn, I ended up without any fruit snacks. It should have made me happy knowing I had enough for the rest of the class. The act of selflessness should have made me feel good about myself. But I wasn't happy.

I got the feeling that if I hadn't shared, I would have felt a sense of guilt, even though I would have gotten to have my fruit snacks. Either way, I don't think I would have been happy. At least, not completely.

″Hey,″ I turned to Euphoria. ″When we get out of here, wanna get some fruit snacks?″

It felt like we had been crawling for miles. In reality, it probably wasn't even half a mile. I wasn't even sure how long we had been moving down there. Time was not a concept that I could really consider at the moment other than the notion of ″gotta keep moving. Gotta keep running away.″

″Think we're safe?″ I asked.

″Not a chance,″ Conrad said, and right on cue, something dropped from a distance behind us. What sounded like a rock bounced once and a shockwave was felt. My ears vibrated along with the environment, screaming in place of any sound from my lungs. Screaming things like ″we're going to explode, just like that rock.″

I knew better. That was no rock. It was a grenade, and what no one tells you about grenades is that even from a distance, it can still do plenty of damage. I wanted to cover my ears, but couldn't. My hands were stuck in front of me as all I could do was inch my way further through. But even at that moment, I couldn't do that. I had to break out of this paralysis somehow if I hoped to survive.

Something could be felt running down my ears. I had a suspicion I knew what it was but I didn't want to know if my suspicion was true. Smoke was reaching our air, even this far in. I could no longer tell if Conrad was moving.

With one hand in front of the other, I pushed myself along, my body becoming its own weight against me. I reached out and felt Conrad's leg. He wasn't moving, just as I feared, but I could feel a pulse.

Why am I stuck pushing the weight of both of us? I groaned, albeit internally. No. I wasn't about to try to push him. Instead I dug my nails into his leg until his head jolted up and hit the roof of the vent.

″Thank you,″ he muttered. ″I passed out for a second there.″

I tried making a reply, but ended up coughing instead.

He started crawling forward again, and I was able to continue on as well. It was clear we weren't out of the woods yet, but I couldn't imagine how they would pursue us from here.

After a while of trying to talk, but coughing instead, I finally managed to say a few words, even if my voice was weak.

″Going where?″ I asked. If I could muster more words, I would have said ″got any sort of destination?″ or ″anything in mind?″

″You of all people should know,″ he responded, not sounding so affected, even if his voice was a bit hushed.

He was right; I did know. We were going to get to my aircraft and fly off in it.

Only thing I didn't know was how we were going to get there.

I stood up. There were no strength left in my body. Not of my own, anyway. I was allowed to gaze down and marvel at the fruits of my victory. Well, a bruised fruit, in any case. I grinned. It was such a wonderful feeling.

″Hey Ecstasy! I did it! I finally got my revenge! Now I know that anything's possible! With you by my side, we'll take down this organization and bring their disgusting acts to light!″ I declared.

Oh yes, her voice appeared inside of me, a return that I welcomed with open arms. He was quite the exquisite fellow. Perhaps I should leave you and possess him, bring him back from the brink of death. His bloodlust and mine seem like a perfect match. We could have so much fun in that body.

″What? C'mon! Don't do that!″ I whined. Was she really going to ditch me after we came this far? To think we had bonded so much in such a short time and she was prepared to ditch me for someone I hated.

She laughed a chilling laughter, one I was not so used to hearing.

I was only kidding, dear. It's much more fun to corrupt someone innocent, after all.

My head was blank. ″Huh?″ I asked. ″What do you mean by that?″

Oh, nothing, she cooed. I shrugged, amazed that I could even do that, especially considering the chunk that was missing from one of my shoulders.

″In any case, let's get a move on,″ I declared. Each step I took was a shamble into the lair of the ETNA Corporation and one step closer to being the hero I've always wanted to be.

[robertkstone]

2019 Ram 1500 First Drive: A Truck That Rides Like a Car

You can read the market research data or just ask your friends who drive big trucks. Unless you hang out exclusively with people who work in construction or farming, they’ll admit most of the time the bed is empty. Some folks will take issue with that because full-size trucks were originally meant for work. But that’s not the way it is anymore. People today buy trucks for all kinds of reasons that have nothing to do with hauling stacks of Sheetrock, and folks don’t have to justify any of them. If you’re still wondering why automakers are putting heated and cooled leather seats and 1,500-watt stereos in trucks, it’s because customers are asking for them.

No automaker has taken this modern market reality to heart more than Ram. While it hasn’t yet mustered the nerve to charge six figures for a pickup like Ford has, Ram has been on the forefront of luxury truck interiors and features. Years before High Country Chevys, back when Denali GMCs were leather, grilles, and an optional engine, Ford rolled the dice on a Platinum F-150. Ram, though, took the idea and ran with it, launching the Laramie Long Horn—replete with southwest-inspired embroidery and embossing and even seat back pockets styled after saddle bags, with chrome buckles and all. Before that, Ram made the even bolder decision to junk the rear leaf springs in favor of smoother-riding coils and offer up a factory air suspension. Altogether, it’s paid off with several years of increased market share. With results like that, there’s only one way to go.

For the latest edition, Ram has doubled down on comfort, convenience, and style. After all, you ride a winning streak. But what’s impressive is Ram hasn’t traded capability for all that pizzazz. Last-generation Ram pickups were the heaviest in the class, and a fully loaded model left you just enough daylight in gross vehicle weight for people, much less cargo.

Ram hasn’t pulled an aluminum rabbit out of its hat like Ford, but it did find 225 pounds it could do without. High-strength steels that require less metal to do the same job, clever applications of aluminum in the engine and transmission cross members, and even composite upper control arms for the front suspension all contribute. Partly as a result, max payload is up to 2,300 pounds while trailering is up to 12,750 pounds max—both competitive with Ford’s and Chevy’s offerings.

Although there will be a plethora of powertrain combinations available, for this drive we only had a fleet of standard 5.7-liter V-8-equipped trucks in various trim levels. Ram predicts the unassisted V-8 will be the ticket for most private buyers, with the base eTorque V-6 and optional eTorque V-8 splitting the rest. We requisitioned both a lower-trim Big Horn and a top-shelf Limited to get a taste for the range.

In its effort to be friendlier to truck diehards and newcomers alike, Ram has pushed its style and comfort perks all the way down the ladder. Every trim level gets at least two interior options: one all-black and another light-colored option unique to each trim level. All models get an electronic parking brake. Everything but the base Tradesman gets more soft-touch materials inside. Every model save the specialty Rebel off-roader gets passive two-mode shocks for a better ride. All of them get a flat rear floor and bigger storage bins. Every Crew Cab is stretched 4 inches for more interior space, especially in the rear. Most interestingly, every model features Ram’s Active Tuned Mass Modules, or frame shakers, as I call ’em. They vibrate at the exact opposite frequency of the engine to cancel vibrations to allow more operation in four-cylinder mode and when “lugging” in higher gears to improve fuel economy. Combined with standard noise-canceling technology, they make even the low-spec interiors surprisingly carlike in their quietness and smoothness.

This is the biggest thing you notice about the new Ram—or don’t notice until you stop to think about it. The cab is a shockingly quiet and comfortable place by pickup truck standards, and it even puts some cars and SUVs to shame. It doesn’t matter if you bought the $33,000 truck or the $59,000 version. The ride over rough roads is surprisingly isolated and smooth for a 5,000-plus-pound vehicle. Combined with a naturally weighted and refreshingly direct steering rack, the new Ram is as easy and pleasant to drive as a car-based crossover.

Getting the work done is the 395-hp, 410-lb-ft V-8 you know, but thanks to the frame shakers, it can run in four-cylinder mode twice as often. An electric radiator fan reduces load on the engine, and improved aerodynamics (including an automatically deployed air dam) mean the engine doesn’t have to work as hard at higher speeds. All told, the cylinder-deactivation system is undetectable save for a tiny grumble from the exhaust when you lift off the throttle.

With all that torque on tap, the Ram gets up to speed briskly and smoothly with a pleasant little growl from the exhaust. The updated eight-speed automatic is better than ever, swapping gears like a seasoned card dealer—seemingly always in the right cog. Ram provided a farm tractor on a trailer for towing, and with 7,000 pounds (give or take) on the hitch, the truck was just as smooth, if a bit slower, as you’d expect. Equipped with optional towing mirrors, visibility around the truck and trailer is excellent, and the lines overlaid on the reverse camera screen make lining up the hitch a breeze. Likewise, the ability to extend the optional blind-spot monitor to cover a trailer up to 35 feet long is an appreciated safety net, as are the larger, stronger front brakes.

And you get all that on the nearly base model Big Horn, with its cloth seats and optional 8.4-inch touchscreen (5.0 inches is standard). On the other end, there’s the lifted luxury of the Limited trim. Ram claims that version has more leather and real wood and metal trim than any competitor, and I see no reason to doubt that. There’s a panoramic sunroof and a 19-speaker optional stereo. There’s an air suspension that makes it ride even better and levels the truck when loaded. To make life easier, there’s active cruise control with lane keeping assistance, a 360-degree camera, and semi-automatic parallel and perpendicular parking systems. Back-seat passengers won’t miss out, either, with the optional heated and cooled rear seats, which also recline.

The real party trick, though, is the 12.0-inch touchscreen. Running the latest, greatest version of Fiat Chrysler’s Uconnect software and exclusively available with SiriusXM 360L on-demand satellite radio, it’s the closest thing you can get to a Tesla screen in a gas-powered vehicle at any price. Like Tesla’s, it can run a full screen or two smaller screens split horizontally. Unlike Tesla’s, it has lots of redundant buttons and knobs if you prefer. I do wish it were as configurable and intuitive as the Tesla screen, but it’s pretty close, especially after you dig through the menus a bit and get to know it. It would be nice if you could run the navigation in split screen rather than full screen, though. Its best feature, if you ask me, is its ability to run Apple CarPlay or Android Auto in split-screen mode rather than have it take over the entire screen like nearly every other vehicle’s infotainment system.

The truck traditionalists among you have likely been rolling your eyes for nearly a dozen paragraphs, right? Who needs all these bells and whistles? Will it haul gravel and my Jet Skis? Look, if you want a base model with bench seats and AM/FM radio and CD player, Ram will gladly sell you one—and it’ll tow and haul more than last year’s truck. But if you’re like a lot of today’s truck buyers and want to replace one or more of your vehicles with a do-everything full-size truck that’ll be as comfortable and spacious as your luxury sedan, Ram has ticked every box on your wish list.

2019 Ram 1500 BASE PRICE $33,340-$59,035 VEHICLE LAYOUT Front-engine, RWD/4WD, 2-5-pass, 2-4-door truck ENGINES 3.6L/305-hp/269-lb-ft DOHC 24-valve V-6 plus 12-hp/90-lb-ft electric motor; 305 hp/269 lb-ft comb; 5.7L/395-hp/410-lb-ft OHV 16-valve V-8; 5.7L/395-hp/410-lb-ft OHV 16-valve V-8 plus 16-hp/130-lb-ft electric motor; 395-hp/410-lb-ft comb TRANSMISSION 8-speed auto CURB WEIGHT 4,800-5,400 lb (mfr) WHEELBASE 140.5-153.5 in LENGTH X WIDTH X HEIGHT 228.9-241.8 x 82.1 x 75.9-79.7 in 0-60 MPH 6.5 sec (MT est) EPA CITY/HWY/COMB FUEL ECON 15/22/17 mpg* ENERGY CONSUMPTION, CITY/HWY 225/153 kW-hrs/100 miles* CO2 EMISSIONS, COMB 1.11 lb/mile* ON SALE IN U.S. Currently *Base 5.7L, all others not yet rated *SAE Certified

Ram Goes Hybrid

The first redesigned Ram full-sized trucks out the gate will be equipped with the tried-and-true 5.7-liter V-8, but it’ll have friends soon. In addition to the return of the EcoDiesel later this year, Ram 1500s will also be available with new “eTorque” V-6 and V-8 mild-hybrid powertrains.

Also known as a belt alternator starter, or BAS, the eTorque system replaces the alternator with a compact but powerful electric motor/generator. The liquid-cooled unit affixed to 3.6-liter Pentastar V-6 engines can produce up to 90 lb-ft of additional torque, and the air-cooled unit mounted to the 5.7-liter Hemi V-8 produces up to 130 lb-ft.

The motor/generators have multiple jobs. While the engine is running, they feed in additional torque at low rpm to give the engine a boost. When the automatic engine stop/start system engages, they restart the engine much more quickly and smoothly than the starter motor. When they’re not adding power, they generate it when the truck slows down, enhancing engine braking. On the V-8 engine, the motor/generator also can add torque on demand to extend the range of conditions when the engine can run in fuel from PerformanceJunk WP Feed 3 http://ift.tt/2Dw0sOt via IFTTT