#w: emilio

[nicsalazar]

Squirming out of trouble || Emilio & Nicole

TIMING: Current LOCATION: State Park PARTIES: @mortemoppetere & @nicsalazar SUMMARY: Nicole finds Emilio wandering around the woods investigating a case. She decides to help him out. WARNINGS: None.

Nicole learned the hard way never to speak the words: It’s an uneventful shift. Rangers were a superstitious bunch, the second lesson. The first time she uttered it —an anxious attempt at filling an uncomfortable silence— resulted in a bear attacking a teenager who wandered far from his camping site. The senior park ranger she shadowed looked at her with such a look of disappointment that her cheeks burned for two days. She swore not to repeat her mistake. The second time was an accidental slip, a consequence of her lack of sleep and too many extra hours, and by the end of the night, a beast that many would equate to Bigfoot chased her and one of the foresters around the woods until they found a hiding place the large figure couldn’t access. 

Never again. Nicole wasn’t superstitious, but she would rather not test her luck with another coincidence. She never dared think of the word uneventful at work again, finding ways to pass the time before the thought could swarm her mind. The evening was shaping up to be one of those… less stressful instances. Paperwork wasn’t cutting it. Rarely did. Nicole rose from her chair, leaving behind the old computer used to file reports, and decided to walk outside without a word. Before— She couldn’t finish that thought.

She took on the trail leading away from the campsites, where kids liked to wander off to be attacked by bears. An extra set of eyes in the place couldn’t hurt. The night would fall eventually, and whoever enjoyed walking around solitary paths should think twice before doing it under the moonlight. As expected, someone else took an interest in the same trail, going as far as venturing outside the delimited area. Nicole didn’t shout immediately as she should have, surprised to find a familiar face. Surprised by the familiar face she found. “Don’t imagine you’re here enjoying a quiet stroll?” she lifted her eyes from the ground, not to glance at Emilio’s face, rather it was his knee she was curious about. She dropped them back to the bushes, her mind spinning a few ideas as to why he of all people would be out in the woods. “Got better trails around for that, If you want me to show you”

—

He’d been taking on more cases lately. Even Emilio himself wasn’t really sure why. He didn’t need the money, even if he did feel weird about accepting Teddy’s often too-generous offers to do things like buy his groceries (which consisted almost entirely of cheap whiskey and cigarettes) or cover the gas he used in his motorcycle when he spent hours absently driving around. The distraction of having something to do with himself was nice enough, but hunting was a far better way to spend the time than detective work. Hunting made him feel more useful, more at ease. When he was hunting, he felt as though he was doing something right. At least… that was how it used to be. But it felt a little different now, a little emptier. Maybe that was why he’d started taking more and more cases. Maybe something new had broken inside of him. He didn’t like the thought much.

It was easy enough to push it away, at least, as he focused his attention on the matter at hand. It was a fairly familiar case, the kind he got often. Someone had disappeared, and the last anyone knew, they’d been in the woods. Emilio didn’t understand why so many people in this town saw fit to hike and camp and do whatever else in woods where so many people vanished into thin air, turning up later as mangled corpses or never turning up at all, but he supposed the habit kept him in business. He didn’t have much hope that this particular case would see him finding his client’s friend alive. She’d been missing for three days already, and odds were she’d been dead for the whole of them. Still, he wouldn’t give up until he knew for certain. It was more of a bad habit than it was anything else.

He felt her before he heard her. Not in a supernatural sense kind of way, just in a… ‘extremely paranoid man’ kind of way. Even with his ears being less than they’d once been, that curling darkness that had lived in his gut for years made him hyper aware of the sound of coming footsteps. Emilio tensed only until the familiar voice called out, relaxed ever so slightly at the realization that he knew who was here and why. Nicole was a park ranger. It made sense that she’d be approaching men on difficult trails with bad legs dragging behind them. He couldn’t take offense to it. “Not really looking for another trail,” he admitted. “Here for something specific. Maybe you can help me out, actually? Girl went missing here a few days ago. Her friend says she spends a lot of time on this trail. Cops already decided she just took off with her boyfriend, but…” He trailed off, letting it hang. He didn’t think the thought needed finishing. What do the cops know? They’re shit. It was a universal kind of thing.

—

Nicole’s face didn’t move, unsurprised by Emilio’s explanation. She knew little about him, but she remembered he was a PI. With no bigger hotspot for unresolved deaths than the woods of Wicked’s Rest, his presence was logical. In his own words, it wasn’t death that brought him to the woods, but she knew considering where he stood, that the ending to his case would look a certain way.

“Ah,” She shoved her hands in her pockets, going over the information he was providing. “Wouldn’t be shocked if something happened to her,” no point in sugarcoating anything. Emilio likely handled far worse cases than a missing girl. She stepped closer, nodding her head for him to follow, purposefully trying to pull him to the safer part of the trail. “When I first started here— We had a bear attack around this place.” It wasn’t a bear, according to the only eyewitness at the time. It was something resembling one. It hid in the shadows, said the teenager, shaking in fear. 

Not many believed the boy, given his state, but the story stayed with Nicole for years. The park instead, put up some bear signs around the campsite to warn the tourists, no one cared to dig into his claim. “There’s a spot— minutes away. People find it hard to get back to campsite once they’re in it. You, uh— Get trapped by the darkness, even when it’s sunny, so—” she said, turning her head back at him, silent for a moment. It could happen to him, should he go sniffing around for clues. But she didn’t trust him to hear her warnings.  

It would be better to help him. She didn’t like the idea, but he could investigate, while there was light left in the surroundings. Nicole wasn’t sure how long Emilio planned to stay and do— PI shit, but she could at least ensure they went in fast, so he could be gone before sunset. Wasn’t this what she’d been looking for when she walked out of the ranger station? A distraction. Paperwork was the alternative. A bleak alternative. 

Should be fine, Nicole told herself. Emilio was a capable PI. And should darkness become difficult to navigate— the jaguar could give her a hand. She scoffed when he mentioned the cops. “Most of them wouldn’t dare to come around,” it was often they showed up, walked around for a few hours and never came back for a follow-up. “Alright,” she blew a tense breath, certain of her decision, but not any less worried. She waited for Emilio to fall into step and pointed toward a spot, away from the trail. Their destination. “Could talk to the manager at the campsite too, but— girl missing for a few days rings a bell. Think they were doing some searching around the cabins yesterday,” though that could be for any reason. “Was she staying here when she disappeared or just— hiking?” Regardless, there could be a groundskeeper or a forester who saw something. It was a matter of finding them. She pointed to the ground, walking slightly ahead of him. “Careful, some of the thorns around her are sharp enough to shred your pants.”

—

It made sense that Nicole would know the odds of finding this girl alive. She probably saw this kind of thing a lot, working in the park. In all honesty, Emilio should have utilized her as a contact before now. After all, she had a working knowledge of the woods that was probably a good deal more extensive than most other people in town. He made a mental note to start calling on her more for cases like this one… before they ran into one another on the trails. 

“That’s what I’m thinking, too,” he agreed, shaking his head. Emilio wasn’t much of an optimist; anyone who knew him could attest to that. “But it’s part of my job to figure out what. Having answers is a lot better than having none, even when the answers aren’t what you’d like.” He’d learned that in a deeply personal way, could compare what it felt like to know the details of a tragedy versus what it felt like to know nothing at all. In spite of the ache it carved into your chest, he’d choose answers every time. He’d do everything in his power to ensure that other people got the same deal, too. “You get a lot of… bear attacks?” He doubted most of them were legitimate bear attacks, but he wouldn’t say as much. Even if this disappearance was supernatural in nature, he’d need to find a more subdued excuse to offer his client in the aftermath, anyway.

Hesitantly, he offered Nicole a nod. Following her was a better bet than sulking around on his own and just hoping something would click, after all. He might have been the detective in this situation, but when it came to the woods, Nicole was the expert. Emilio wasn’t too proud to listen to an expert�� so long as the expert wasn’t someone he found annoying. “Could be she found herself there,” he acknowledged. “Not a bad idea to check it out.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Safely.” He didn’t give much of a shit about safety, but Nicole was just trying to do her job. 

Part of him felt the need to tell her that the dark didn’t bother him much, anyway, but she’d probably have questions about it. Emilio couldn’t quite explain his perfect night vision without admitting where it came from, and that wasn’t the kind of thing Emilio liked doing. If someone didn’t know about the supernatural, telling them you were a vampire slayer made them think you had a few screws loose. If they did know about the supernatural, you could very well get yourself killed by letting word spread around that you were a hunter. Emilio’s name was already a little too recognizable to any undead who’d spent time in or around Mexico. He didn’t need to go around adding more risk of people targeting him. 

“Ah, they’re useless,” he agreed, trailing along behind her to follow. He made a note of where he was, figuring he could come back to the same area later if he found nothing with Nicole. “Probably talk to whoever’s willing to talk to me. Some people are… not happy to have someone looking around.” And some people weren’t happy to have Emilio looking around, specifically. He had a habit of pissing people off. The fresh scars Aesil left on his arms and legs itched absently at the thought, and he swallowed. Better not to think about that. “Just hiking. Was supposed to meet her friends for lunch after, never showed. Gives me more of a time frame, at least. Might help jog some memories.” He made a face at the mention of thorns, remembering the brambles that had pulled him underground with Wyatt. “Don’t need to tell me twice.”

—

Miracles were rare at the park. Nicole would’ve liked to believe that with more resources and more personnel, something could’ve been done for girls like the one Emilio was after. One day, getting lost in the park wouldn’t be an immediate death sentence. However, that required a kind of hope Nicole couldn’t muster most days. She kept her gaze low, studying the underbushes, while Emilio offered a clue as to why he chose the path to become a PI: Answers. He was interested in providing them. The silence felt too big, suffocating as Nicole grappled with the familiarity of the situation. There were things Nicole didn’t like to talk about and things she couldn’t talk about. Words that were physically impossible to get out, her throat surrounded by barbed wired any time she thought of it. 

The more Emilio spoke, the more she was dragged into the depths of her memories. Memories she had decided to leave alone before they created a cocktail toxic enough to destroyed her. The violence, the years exiled from her body, the cloud of mystery surrounding her family's disappearance. The tragedy her younger self had to piece together. Whoever came up with ignorance is a bliss never had one of their loved ones go missing, certainly. A low hum was all she managed, afraid of the emotion weighing in her throat. A hum. It was a single sound but it carried much more than that. It carried sympathy, recognition and understanding. If Emilio was as capable as Nicole believed him to be, then he’d listen for what was unspoken. 

She clenched her jaw, swallowing against the emotion rising to the surface. “Let’s find your answers then,” Nicole echoed his sentiment in a grumble, her voice evening out. She slowed down her stride, waiting for the path to reveal their next deviation. Barely noticeable on the ground, there was an old piece of wood plank. There was once a boardwalk around the area. Nicole twisted to the left as she noticed it, keeping Emilio in her peripheral vision. “Sure,” a slight hint of amusement edged her words. She doubted Emilio had genuine interest in bear attacks, but she could answer regardless. “It’s what they like to call it,” by they she meant those in high positions. The ones that in turn, were pawns of somebody else even higher on the scale. She pointed at a bear sign. It was defaced. “Anytime you see one of these— 80% chance it wasn’t a bear,” keeping the secrecy with Emilio was pointless, after they bought witnessed a supernatural creature mess with their preferred dog park. “You know how the town is— Peculiar… wildlife,” or however he preferred to call it. 

Despite the somber reality, Nicole could see certain appeal in assisting an investigation. “Will radio management when we get out of it. Play nice,” she half-turned to Emilio, eyebrow arched. She slowed down again, battling with herself. If she had the means to bring a family closure— wouldn’t it feel better to go the extra mile? Her eyes shifted around the trees, as if she expected eavesdropping. Eventually, she blew a tense breath and continued the trek. When she spoke again, she was adamant not to look back at him. “Between… eight fifteen and eight thirty— change of shifts around most stations. Good time to— go unnoticed.” If he did anything with the knowledge, it wasn’t her fault.  

The deeper they trudged into the woods, the harder it would be for them to keep discussing the case. The light began dissipating around them. Not immersed in full darkness, though Nicole knew it was coming. She debated whether to turn on the flashlight. Any creatures living in this area of the park likely wouldn’t enjoy the brightness. Or being disturbed by it. She could get by with scent or hearing, and hope against logic, that nothing too deadly chose to live in the heart of the woods. She pressed the button, casting the small light to the forest floor. She noticed remnants of something scattered around. Something or someone. She wasn’t sure when was the last time a park ranger patrolled the woods up to this point. Not recently, judging by the litter. Maybe during the time the jaguar kept her in the zoo. A window of time that went back several years. Nicole looked down at the soil, uncertain of the marks she was staring at. “There’s this,” she mumbled when Emilio drew closer.

—

He didn’t know Nicole well enough to delve into the reason for her reaction, but he recognized the expression of someone who understood the importance of someone seeking answers. Maybe a better man would have pressed for details, would have given her some opportunity to talk about whatever it was that weighed so heavily on her shoulders, but Emilio would much rather ignore difficult conversations than invite them out into the open. After all, if he invited Nicole to talk about her experiences, there was every chance she’d see fit to return the favor. And Emilio didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to give a voice to the things that had been haunting him for years now, didn’t want to acknowledge the corpses that followed him around. It was so much easier to ignore a thing if you never spoke it aloud. Maybe it would still crush you, but it felt more survivable when you didn’t give it the advantage of being heard. 

And, in any case, Nicole struck him as the sort of person who might feel similarly. She was quiet, not the sort to tout her problems to anyone who’d listen. Despite not knowing her well, Emilio liked her for this reason, enjoyed her company for its simplicity. They didn’t need to talk about themselves at all. They could walk together, side by side, and talk only about the case he was working and the answers he hoped to find. Emilio preferred that by miles to the alternative.

“What do you like to call it?” There was a genuine curiosity to the question. Nicole clearly knew that the woods weren’t what they seemed, something that lined up with his previous impression of her. In the dog park, when that hedgehound had shown up, she’d been far too calm to be someone who knew nothing of the world around her. Emilio doubted she would have lasted long in this job if she’d known nothing at all about the threats she was facing. There was a reason, after all, why Emilio was one of the longest lasting PIs in town. People who knew what they were up against had a habit of living longer. “Anything worse than anything else up here, that you’ve noticed?” There would be the usual suspects, of course. But if there was something big, something less common… that might be worth looking into even if it didn’t have anything to do with this particular case.

He made a face as she turned back towards him, instructing him to ‘play nice’ with management. “Not really my strong suit,” he admitted with an unapologetic shrug. He used to be better with authority, back when the authority in question was his mother. He’d done what she’d told him to do, even when he’d had doubts. And still, the mere existence of those doubts had seen him earning the title of her most disappointing child. These days, he found authority like police officers or Nicole’s bosses far more difficult to respect. 

As they moved, the woods darkened around them. Emilio glanced around, making a note of the change even as his eyes adjusted. There was little difference between light and dark when your night vision was perfect, and his heritage as a slayer granted him that advantage. Still, he made a lazy effort to pretend otherwise, if only to avoid questioning from Nicole. He drew closer to her as she turned on her flashlight, looking down at the ground beneath their feet. “Could be something,” he murmured thoughtfully, careful not to let his feet disrupt the marks. “You see any trail left behind?”

—

What did she call the strange creatures roaming around the extension of the park, the ones lurking in the shadows, hiding in the water, nesting on the trees? “Don’t have a name for them,” she shook her head. For the most part, they would pass for different type of dogs, bears, exotic birds and reptiles. The park took advantage of that, discouraged all stories about it, but Nicole knew they belonged in a different category. The problem laid in her lack of knowledge of the supernatural beyond her ability to recognize them. Hardly useful. “Know a guy working in Animal Control— knows more about this shit… The— supernatural” she supposed, as far as words went, it was the a common one. “The name Langley sound familiar to you?” She should be reaching out to Kaden more often. Describing the fauna she found.  She should start writing them down, keeping a record.  

Emilio’s question wasn’t generic, however, and Nicole understood he was trying to figure out if somewhere in her words there was a lead he should follow. She wished she could offer more, but if it was worth anything, she could expand on her previous comment. “But uh— The bear I mentioned— the one that attacked a kid… Could still be around. Not a bear, though. It— kid claimed it moved in the shadows,” she looked around at their surroundings, “looks like the ideal spot for it to live.” A place where a girl could wander off to, if she were careless, or if she had been chased. Nicole doubted they were about to face this monster, though. She wasn’t sure if that certainty was a positive thing or not. If she believed something far worse awaited them or if she knew they would be safe.   

Amid the growing tension, Nicole let out a breathy laugh. She appreciated Emilio’s honesty. It was good not to be bullshitted, regardless if he looked worse for it. She didn’t care how he went about his investigation at the campsite, as long as he stayed safe. And something told her a man like him knew a trick or two to remain in one piece. She hoped his presence alone would ensure both of them would be fine after their immersion in the dark forest. 

As they stood above the mark for a moment, Nicole expected a revelation. She could see the tremor of her hand as the dot of light shook on the ground. There was nothing to fear yet, logically she was aware of the fact, but it didn’t make the total fucking darkness or the eerie lack of sound any more manageable. “Nothing,” she whispered, his question prompting her to move the flashlight around. Until a dark silhouette of— something came into view, by one of the tree trunks. Nicole’s human eyes tried making sense of it. “Backpack?” she guessed, nudging Emilio in the direction and pointing her flashlight with more confidence. 

When she sensed Emilio move away from her, Nicole’s attention returned to the marks on the forest floor. Didn’t look like a footprint. Any print, for that matter. Nor a drawing attempt, because who would come here to— She tilted her head, stepping inside the circle the mark created. From the new angle, Nicole had a different guess. The marks looked less like they were carved on the ground and more like teeth sticking out. A monster? A creature could’ve lived inside these woods after all, but considering only the teeth remained, it was likely long dead. 

She didn’t get to communicate her findings to Emilio, because a loud snapping sound came beneath her, followed by something sharp digging into her calf. “Fuck!” She hissed, dropping her flashlight as she tried to jerk back. Whatever was on the ground, didn’t let her move. It was trying to drag her. The flashlight clattered and turned off as it hit the dirt, darkness enveloping them completely. She tried to stay on her feet, though the monster impaired her balance. By reflex, jaguar eyes blinked, offering Nicole some clarity. Emilio was nowhere near her to spot it. Fortunately. Because supernatural conversation aside, she wasn’t ready to reveal herself as one of them. Through the eyes of the jaguar she was able to figure out what exactly was biting her leg. “The fuck—” her balance was lost, falling backwards, as the creature —worm like in shape— grew hungrier to secure it’s prey. 

—

It shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise that she knew Kaden. After all, it made a good deal of sense for park rangers to work closely with animal control even in a town that didn’t have a large number of ‘animal attacks’ binding the two together. In Wicked’s Rest, it was likely a far more important relationship. It was good, he thought, that both departments had people working in them who weren’t convinced that the world was a simple, easily explained thing. “I know Kaden,” he acknowledged with a nod. “Annoying, but good at what he does. Just don’t tell him I said so.” He wondered just how much Nicole knew about the supernatural. Did she know about hunters? Did she know Kaden was one? Emilio wouldn’t mention it either way, wouldn’t risk sharing information that could put someone he didn’t exactly hate in danger even if Nicole didn’t seem like the type to pose a threat.

She continued then, going into a little more detail about what they might have been dealing with in the woods. She still called it a bear, though she spoke as if she knew it was something a little more complicated than that. Emilio figured it was a safe deduction that whatever it was looked like a bear, at least. He thought of Nora, wondered if there might be a malicious bugbear on the loose with a pang. He had no desire to kill a bugbear, but if there was one killing people in the woods… Nicole went on, offering a little more information, and relief came in the form of a quiet sigh. Moves in the shadows and looks like a bear came together to give him an answer more likely than a bugbear. “Probably a baukbear,” he stated. “Keep the flashlight handy. Light fucks them up.”

He offered her a wry smile as she laughed, feeling some of the tension slip from his shoulders. It was never gone entirely — there was always some amount of discomfort there, even when he slept — but it was far easier to feel a little less on edge when she was laughing, even when it was a quiet sound. The lightness of the moment seemed to slip as he spotted something ahead by the tree, though.

He waited until her light found it, pretended to spot it only when it was illuminated rather than admitting to having seen it in the dark. “Backpack,” he agreed, giving little more warning before moving towards it. He kneeled by the tree, turning it over carefully. It was dark green, with lighter green patches that he supposed were meant to be decorative. Its contents had spilled on the forest floor around it, and he rifled through them carefully. A bottle of water, still mostly full. A few granola bars. A small camera. A can of bug spray. A portable phone charger, but no phone; Emilio figured most people were more prone to carrying those in their pockets for easier access. There was a wallet, though, and he flipped it open to look at the ID inside. The name matched the one his client had given him; his stomach rolled at the implications of it.

He turned to look back towards Nicole, to inform her of the discovery, but she was letting out a startled sound before he could say anything. Immediately — and painfully, thanks to the ever-present twinge in his knee — Emilio was on his feet. As quickly as he was capable of, he rushed back towards her, hand already going to his pocket to retrieve a blade.

She fell before he got there, landing on the forest floor with a thump. “The fuck is going on?” Emilio demanded, eyes wild as he looked down to her feet. There were teeth wrapped around her ankle, and it must have been painful. He dove towards the — fuck, of course it was a fucking worm. The slayer grit his teeth, anger bubbling over. “I’m going to kill it! I’ll — I don’t know, I’ll cut it in half or something, hold still.” 

—

Nicole would have to ask Emilio about his findings later, when the creature trying to eat her leg was —hopefully— dispatched. Though logic dictated, the case was nearly closed, wasn’t it? Whatever kind of supernatural worm the fucker attacking her was, it surely claimed more victims before Nicole and Emilio were able stumble upon it. If the girl strayed alone to this place, then they had their answer. It was a sobering thought, one that made her stomach plummet with guilt. At the park, everybody was responsible for their own well being, waivers were signed by visitors at the entrance, but what good were rangers for if they couldn’t keep young folks from putting their lives in danger? 

Sharp teeth dug deeper into her leg and she tried grasping at the jaws, her efforts to untangle herself wasted, barely dislodging the worm from its burrow. Fuck. She didn’t panic, however, regardless of how fast her heart hammered in her ears. She needed the adrenaline to help her out. If the monster ate the ways snakes did —an educated guess— then it would be a slow affair. She wasn’t helpless. She kicked the ground with her other leg, posing resistance before Emilio was by her side. “Not a fucking bear!” she grunted as her leg dropped further into the worm’s mouth. Her arms quivered as she pushed on the opposite direction. Her vision went out, and it was for the best, Emilio was next to her and he would take care of the situation. All she had to do was keep resisting as the worm tried to suck her in. “Need to— uproot it—” she gasped, hoping Emilio would take kindly to the alarm in her voice. She didn’t want a knife to replace the fangs plunged into her calf. How did he plan on aiming in total darkness?  

Her shaky hand patted the floor, stretching aimlessly until her fingers came into contact with what she was searching for: The flashlight. She cried out as she reached and the thing rolled over a few attempts, until it was in her grasp. She swiftly clicked the button, illuminating the scene once more. She set it on the floor, where she could vaguely map out the outline of her leg. It was better than nothing. “Will try to— pull some of the body out,” she questioned how Emilio planned on slashing a worm, but decided to trust his intentions. He was likely to carry some weapons as a PI, no? Shit got dangerous for people like him. She nodded in silent agreement, bracing herself to kick up the ground again, pulling a few inches of the worm out of its burrow. It was all Emilio had to work with. “Do it.” 

—

It didn’t take a detective to deduce what must have happened to the girl they were looking for. Her backpack had clearly been dropped in a momentary scuffle, and the worm currently gripping Nicole’s leg in its jaws certainly hadn’t appeared overnight. If Emilio had to guess, even without knowing the specifics on what it was, he’d say the thing had been here for a while. Long enough to swallow his client’s friend the same way it was trying to swallow Nicole now, leaving nothing but her bag to show she’d ever been here at all. Something heavy pooled in his stomach, and he did his best to push it away. There was nothing to be done now, no solution available beyond getting Nicole free and delivering the bad news and the backpack back to his client in whatever way made the most sense. 

“Not a bear,” he agreed. Privately, he wished the baukbear was responsible for this particular disappearance; they were a known entity, a thing he knew how to get away from, at the very least. But this? Emilio wasn’t particularly well-versed in worms, despite a certain former medical examiner’s insistence on sending him an abundance of them. Cutting the head off did the trick with most things, but Nicole was right — they needed to uproot this one before he could properly behead it, lest he risk cutting her foot off along with it.

She grabbed the flashlight to better see — something Emilio had forgotten to consider in the chaos — and began to yank. He waited until a few more inches of the worm were visible, waited until Nicole yelled for him to do it, then pounced, knife out and at the ready. He kept his blades sharp enough that he didn’t have to saw at the worm, cut as close to the ground as possible to give Nicole’s foot a little more room. “Pull back!” He yelled as the knife came free and the worm was halved. “Now!” They couldn’t risk the possibility of another one jumping out to take the place of the one he’d just sliced through.

—

Between Nicole’s attempts at pushing up in opposition to the worm, and Emilio trying to yank the thing a few extra inches, she was fairly confident her calf would be fine. Emilio was quick to act once she gave permission, drawing a blade in what she could only describe as a blurry move and sinking it with precision into the creature. When the sharp blade struck, it became a matter of maintaining consistency. Pulling up a final time, Nicole gripped the half severed maw and dragged it with her, what remained attached to the body wiggling out of its burrow. She fell onto her back, and the worm slammed motionless on the forest floor.

She didn’t get a moment of respite, flinching as she landed on the ground and springing back into a sitting position. They didn’t know if more of those creatures remained hidden on the ground, she didn’t want to test her shitty luck again. She grabbed the flashlight, assessing how badly she was wounded, removing each fang one by one. Fresh blood seeped from the injury, Nicole figured she would have to limp all the way back, but when the alternative was to be swallowed into the ground by a supernatural worm to die slowly and painfully, limping didn’t sound half bad. 

Tossing aside the creature’s jaws, Nicole looked up at a poorly lit Emilio, extending her hand to get back up. One last favor. “Good. Thanks for—” she heaved, out of relief rather than the physical exertion. Though she wasn’t entirely comfortable with that either. “Glad you’re good with a knife,” she mumbled, not giving much thought as to why that would be the case. Detective shit, probably. She put most of her weight on her good leg, staggering lightly but ready to move past being almost swallowed to the ground. It gave her a new perspective on all those claims of visitors vanishing out of thin air, though. “Will have to ask Langley what the fuck that was…” and if possible, if something could be done to cull them. The damage was done, a girl might be dead, but perhaps it didn’t have to happen again if she could stop it.   

Flashlight in hand she studied the forest floor, letting her heartbeat subside while searching for more suspicious marks, but couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. “Got anything?” she glanced up at Emilio, nodding at the backpack, anticipation swirling in her stomach.  

—

As Nicole finally broke free of the worm and stumbled backwards, Emilio stood vigilant at the hole, gripping the knife tightly as he waited to see if any more worms would come looking for a snack. The hole remained empty for a moment, though he continued staring at it. Letting their guard down was a bad idea. If there was one of these things, there were probably more. And the next one might grab something more delicate than a leg.

Still not turning away from the hole completely, he inched towards Nicole and pulled her to her feet, figuring it was better if she was standing. The last thing they needed was for another worm to shoot out and grab her by the head, after all. “No problem,” he replied with a nod, spinning the knife absently in his hand. “Guess everybody’s good at something.” It wasn’t as if he was good at much else, after all.

Inching away from her, and still keeping the hole where he could watch it for movement, he went back to the backpack. He leaned down, scooping it up and tossing the spilled contents back inside. “The backpack is hers,” he said, zipping it shut and throwing it over his shoulder. “Guessing she ran into the same thing you did, and wasn’t as good with a knife as I am.” There was a hint of something in his tone at that — grief, guilt, regret, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t pleased with the outcome in the slightest, but he was smart enough to recognize the most likely answer to the question he’d been asked. There was no need to risk Nicole’s life searching for some nonexistent proof to the contrary.

Making his way back over to Nicole, he scooped up the top half of the worm. “Might be easier for him to figure out what it is if we take him this,” he said, holding it up. Something dripped from the neck, landing beside Emilio’s shoe. He paid it no mind. He was too busy trying to determine the odds that Kaden would recognize this. It wasn’t undead, so it might fall in a ranger’s wheelhouse. It didn’t look fae, though Emilio was often bad at telling. If Kaden didn’t know, maybe he’d have some contacts to ask. 

Sighing, he nodded in the direction they’d come from. “We don’t need to stick around here any more. I got what I need to give my client something they’ll believe. No need to get killed chasing ghosts.”

—

She awaited that dreadful confirmation. Long, painful seconds stretching before Emilio opened his mouth, where Nicole was unsure what she would’ve preferred hearing. A girl was dead, or a girl remained missing. A family mourned their loved one, or a family continued to suffer with the uncertainty. Hardly anything uplifting about either fate. Whatever it was, it was long sealed before they stumbled into the darkness. Her flashlight illuminated the path toward the backpack, suspense twisting in her stomach. He picked up the contents from the back and stood straight. Then his words corroborated her initial prediction: The backpack belonged to the girl. Fuck.

She gave a stiff nod, lowering her flashlight to the ground and dimming everything around them. She didn’t want to be seen processing what they stumbled upon. She didn’t trust her face not to reflect her own painful memories. The silence felt heavy, if Nicole hadn’t been busy keeping a hold of her emotions, she would have noticed Emilio was affected by their findings, despite what his aloof exterior wanted to present. She wouldn’t know what to do with it, regardless. “Shit,” she mumbled, numbness slowly creeping back in her chest. Too often she worried about misspeaking, but there wasn’t a word that would fit the situation. “I’m sorry,” it was strange to say. Felt like expressing condolences to someone who didn’t need them. He solved the case faster than he expected to. Was it success at all for him? Succeeding meant breaking the news to a family whose world would crumble. Least he got paid. Someone got answers. She didn’t envy his job, that, she was certain of.

His steps approaching pulled her out of her thoughts, a moment later he was next to her, holding the worm. Same fucking bastard that sank its teeth on her. Nicole didn’t look down when she heard the dripping sound, though it splashed her boot, she could tell. It was in her best interest to ignore it. It was in their best interest to get the fuck out before another one of those popped out. “Ah,” her face contorted in disgust, but took the half worm from Emilio’s hands. Worms… dried, didn’t they? Should be alright. “Will keep it somewhere in the station. Hardly the weirdest shit there,” she shrugged. Eventually she would take a photograph and send it to Langley, get his professional opinion. Perhaps, she would start keeping records as she considered during their walk.  

“No. Guess we don’t.” His wording stuck with her. She wondered if she ever chased her own ghosts long enough. Hard enough. Dying for an answer wouldn’t have been such a terrible fate, would it? When did it stop being a priority? Why did she stop? She swallowed the knot in her throat, aiming toward the trail where they came from. She limped slightly, testing how well her injured leg could handle the trek back. It was fine to put some weight on her foot. The alternative — leaning against Emilio — was not something she wanted to resort to, considering how he carried himself. Hopefully, they wouldn’t stumble onto any other threat on the way back. They wouldn’t get too far with two working legs between the two. 

[highoctanegem]

Cheese! Couches! Bananas! || Emilio & Jade

TIMING: A few weeks ago. LOCATION: Axis Investigation PARTIES: @mortemoppetere & @highoctanegem SUMMARY: Jade shows up at Axis to check on her recently delivered couch(es). Emilio is there to greet her, and also, has a little surprise in his pockets. CONTENT WARNING: Bananas.

Their couches had arrived! Jade let out a squeal that must’ve been heard for miles around the cabin when she saw that little notif bubble pop up (Regan would be proud of the decibels). With a purpose for the day, she dragged herself out of the bed, pathetically empty after her bone partner left a few hours ago when she had to go to work or something. (Apple was so evil for keeping them away for eight hours a day) (She was seriously considering switching to Android in protest). Anyway, capitalist homophobia aside, she jumped in the shower and got ready to visit Emilio and make sure her purchases had arrived in perfect condition. Oh, right cause… They had decided to get them delivered to Axis while they didn’t have their real home! She forgot to mention that tiny detail, didn’t she? Whoopsie. 

Now that all the dots were connected, she was off to Axis to get a look at those couches.

The apartment building in Worm Row was such a nice little throwback to the beginnings of her Wicked’s Rest journey, bringing a smile to her face despite the stinky scent permeating the air. Aw, it retained the same aroma and all! 

She parked Roxie right outside, noticing the other (nameless) vehicle right next to hers. Sweet! Emilio was inside. And like, Jade knew she could’ve texted him, but where was the fun in that? And have him mentally prepared for her dropping by? No way. She took off her helmet, hanging it on the handle, and ran a hand through her damp hair to get rid of some nasty helmet head.

The door to Axis was unlocked, so she slipped inside and made herself home inside the repurposed living room. A huge cheshire grin spread across her face when she spotted Emilio in all his grumpy glory, but all greetings were on hold, as her eyes were naturally drawn to the out of place furniture adorning the room. She gasped in delight. 

She was pleasantly surprised they hadn’t been left just outside for just any rascals to get a hold of them. Especially the outlined couch (Regan would’ve been devastated to lose such an original model). Both couches were awkwardly occupying space amid Axis's modest decor. Her beautiful green one was covered in protective plastic, looking impeccably shiny despite the extra layer, while the outlined couch (and its matching ottoman) was packed in a large cardboard box. “You’re the bestest,” she smiled fondly, caressing the top of the plastic. “Oh, I meant you, but you know that already” She looked back at Emilio, sauntering toward his ‘office’ desk. “We should probably, like… move them to one of the other rooms, so your clients don’t get any ideas that you’re in your interior design era.” 

She placed a paper bag on the desk. “This is for you, courtesy of me and Regan,” and like, there was no reason for Jade to smile all devilishly while she gave it to him (it was a bottle of top-shelf whiskey) (and a breakfast sandwich, cause she knew what he was like) but if for a second Emilio thought he was being given worms instead, wasn’t that just so much more fun?

—

When his phone rang in the early afternoon with a number he didn’t recognize, he’d only answered because he’d assumed it was a case. Plenty of people preferred calling to showing up at his office when they wanted to schedule something, and that was all well and good. It was nice to know when you were expecting a client, sometimes. So, Emilio did what a good business owner would do. He picked up on the third ring. He muttered, “Axis Investigations,” into the phone. He waited as the person on the other end of the line paused.

And then, he waited a little longer.

When they finally spoke, they sounded a little confused. “Uh, I have a delivery here?”

His brow furrowed. “What? Ring the doorbell.” Had Teddy put his name on something? He wasn’t home at the moment, was out in Worm Row trying to burn some excess energy, but someone would be at the house to pick up whatever Teddy had delivered. Levi, Wynne, Gabagool in a pinch. The person on the other end of the line paused again, and Emilio nearly hung up. But then, they spoke, and he faltered.

“There, uh… There isn’t a doorbell? It’s an apartment?”

Shit. 

“Worm Row?”

“Yeah,” the person confirmed, sounding uncertain. “And it’s — I mean, it’s kind of sketchy here, so I’d like to — Can you let us in?”

Racking his mind, Emilio tried to think what he might have had delivered to the Worm Row apartment — and what might require more than one person to deliver it, considering the fact that the guy on the line said we. He kept coming up short. “Lock’s broken. Go inside. I’ll be up in five minutes.” And then, not particularly wanting to continue the conversation, he hung up and made his way to the familiar building. 

The elevator creaked as it always did when he climbed inside, and he kicked absently at Jeff’s foot where he sat in the corner. “Still alive, Jeff?” He asked, mashing the button for his floor.

“A dragonfly made me immortal. I paid her in nectar,” Jeff replied, clearly half asleep. Emilio nodded absently, listening to the elevator strain.

“Glad to hear it.” The door opened on the second floor, and he stepped out. “Better not catch you in my place again. Tired of cleaning up after you.” There was no response; presumably, Jeff had gone back to sleep. Emilio sighed, rolling his eyes as the elevator door closed again and making his way towards his apartment.

The door was closed; clearly, the delivery guy had meant it when he said he felt unsafe. Emilio nudged it open with his foot, stepping inside to find… a couch. Taking up most of the living room, while a guy sat in the floor beside it with chalk, drawing on the floor. 

“What the fuck is this?”

He should have been expecting the answer. A delivery for a Regan Kavanagh, who’d given this address for her things. Emilio blew a frustrated puff of air through his nose, moving to the desk to sit while the men finished up. He pulled a wrapped bundle from his pocket, brow furrowing. Cheese. Right. He and Teddy had taken so much home from that damn bonfire that Teddy had taken to sending it off with him to snack on throughout the day. Emilio chewed it absently, watching as the men made their quick exit. 

After a few minutes, someone else entered. He wasn’t particularly surprised to see who. 

“Should have figured you’d know about this,” he griped, shooting her a look as she set something down on the table. Popping the rest of the cheese into his mouth, he opened the bag, expecting worms. It was a pleasant surprise to find whiskey in a sandwich instead, and he pulled out the former and popped it open. “I don’t think this makes up for the couch. Or the guy who drew on my floor. The hell is that about, anyway? And how long do I have to keep this shit here?”

—

“Um, of course I know about this! Did Regan forget to tell you about it?” Jade asked with her most innocent smile. She absolutely knew Regan had forgotten about it, or well, technically she made her forget about it. Nope scratch that, it was Regan’s fault, for being too gay and so easily distracted. Or maybe it was that basket of cold cookies they found after, that may or may not have been a wee bit cursed. Huh, maybe it did slip everybody’s minds. And anyway, it was way funnier for all involved (read, only her) if there was a bit of miscommunication all around. She smiled at Emilio, noticing he was eating some cheese, which if her math was right (as it was always the case), it must’ve been some of the leftover ones from the bonfire. What a fun time that was. She was still wearing her friendship bracelets from that time. 

Obviously, Emilio dove straight for the whiskey (her suggestion) (he definitely wouldn’t have wanted Regan’s initial idea which was better kept a secret), and Jade rested her hand on top of the desk, smile still polite and friendly. Seeing as he was at least eating some cheese, she wasn’t gonna pester him about the sandwich. “You’re welcome, and um… it totally does. I’m pretty sure the couches were cheaper than that,” she gave a pointed look at the bottle. (And nope, they weren’t. But almost!). Her eyebrows pinched together, cause what did Emilio mean by that? Guys drawing on the floor? So like… “What? No! Did they open it?” she looked back at the cardboard box, then to the ground where yup, sure enough, there was a big rectangle drawn with chalk just like the display at Just Couches. She accidentally stepped on it with her dirty boots when she walked over to the desk. Whoops, Regan didn’t have to know. But at least! It looked like the ottoman was still inside the box then, judging by the lack of a second outline in the room. (Small wins). “Mmm, we’re gonna need to repackage that, when we move it to our house,” how did one repackage an outlined couch? (Did the chalk come in the box?) They should probably call the store to work it out. 

“Oh! Right…” She pushed those mild inconveniences away, glancing back at Emilio. Sometimes Jade forgot not everything she and Regan did had a perfectly rational, perfectly obvious explanation. It was hard sometimes, to be so above everyone in terms of coolness, and having to come back down and co-exist with mortals who knew nothing about outlined couches. (But it was a duty she took with honor) (maybe she’d actually be good at this one). “Our couches!” she shrugged, cause seriously. Emilio was a detective, he had eyes. Could he not see the rectangle and figure out it was obviously a drawn couch? Duh! “I dunno if you’ll want the whole story,” she cackled. Emilio was pretty nosy though, just like… delusional about it. He acted as if everything he had to know was cause of his job. “But! It comes down to us wanting to move in together to like, a real house” and did they have to rush so much with the couch? Probably not, but did they find the perfect one? Absolutely. When you know you know. “So we went to get a couch first. And I may or may not have been a bit too gay to say no to her,” she pinched her thumb and her index finger. “I mean you know how that goes,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him, reaching inside the bag for the sandwich she brought, slowly unwrapping it. She was feeling a little hungry, actually. “And voila! We have… two couches. And an ottoman,” and only one of them was truly visible. 

“I dunno how long we’ll need yet. We’d obviously like, move them if we take too long to find the right place. We definitely don’t want them in the cabin right now,” cause Regan associated the cabin with a buncha bad things, including Jade’s weapons, which totally made her feel some type of way, but she was not gonna dwell on it until it was time to. (So maybe next season). And Axis had been like, the closest location they knew from Just Couches so really, not even in a jokey way, Axis had been ideal delivery address. “Do you realize how lucky you are that Teddy just had their place already furnished and ready to take on an extra grumpy roomie? I’m telling ya, we’re even looking at like bird migration paths.” So they would increase their chances of birds dropping dead in their yard, obviously.

—

Regan was supposed to tell him about this? Emilio huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and raising a brow at Jade in an expression that was all-too-serious. Of course Regan wouldn’t have told him. Regan loved sending shit to his house unannounced, be it bags of worms or turtlenecks made of denim. Jade knew as much, which meant if she had given the duty of informing Emilio about the couch delivery to her… bone partner, she’d done so with full knowledge that the information would never be delivered at all. This was all definitely intentional. And there were couches in his apartment. (Well… a couch. He was refusing to call the chalk outline a couch on principle.) “No,” he replied needlessly, “Regan didn’t tell me about any couches. You could have, you know.” It wasn’t like he would have said no. Probably. He would have demanded something in return, but Jade had brought him whiskey and that was probably what he would have demanded, anyway, so…

Damn it. Having people who actually knew you was a hard, unfamiliar thing.

He took another swig of the whiskey, which was apparently expensive but tasted, to him, exactly like the cheap shit. (Maybe Teddy was right about him burning through his tastebuds with all the cigarettes and bottom shelf liquor.) “I’m not thanking you. You filled my apartment with random furniture, you don’t get thanked for that. A bottle of whiskey is the least you could do.” He watched as she seemed… a little distressed, almost, about the chalk drawing. “Open it? It’s a drawing. Made of chalk. On my floor. That isn’t something you open.” Unless his English was worse than he thought it was. “Re — Jade, you can’t repackage a drawing made of chalk. That’s — You know, I think Kavanagh’s weirdness is rubbing off on you?” Had Jade always been this strange? Maybe Emilio just hadn’t noticed it when they were sleeping together, or had written it off as the normal kind of strange that was just ‘people acting in a way Emilio Cortez didn’t understand.’ 

Of course, her explanation made about as much sense as the chalk outline on his floor. “I see one couch,” he allowed, “and one drawing made of chalk that I don’t know how to clean up.” He didn’t own a mop, and there was no way in hell he was getting on his hands and knees with a sponge. Even if he’d wanted to, his bad knee would protest to the point that he’d have to stay on that damn floor until someone peeled him off it, and that wasn’t something his pride could handle. The chalk drawing would probably stay there until someone else cleaned it up (unlikely) or it was splattered over with a new stain (probably blood). “So you and Regan want to move in together.” That part he understood. “And you bought a couch.” He was with her there. “And had it delivered to my apartment?” This was where she’d lost him. “Don’t you have other places it could go?” They must have had other friends. Friends with bigger apartments, friends with more patience, friends who were, most importantly, not Emilio. Jade should have sent the couches (couch, damn it, he was not letting her make him consider the chalk outline a piece of furniture) to someone else, if only so Emilio could enjoy living in a world where this kind of thing wasn’t his problem.

He groaned quietly. He couldn’t really say no to letting her store things here. He wasn’t here often, and they were already here, and she was looking at him with that hopeful, ‘I’m-in-love-with-a-weirdo’ look on her face. “Teddy kidnapped my dog and forced me to move in with them,” he replied flatly. “I am a captive.” It was very untrue, and Jade obviously knew as much. But Emilio wanted to be dramatic, and there were couches — no, fuck that, there was a couch and a chalk outline of a second couch — in his living room, so he figured he had some right. He sighed, taking another swig of whiskey. His fingers itched as he put the bottle down, hand drawn into his pocket for reasons he couldn’t quite understand. They closed around something strange; his nose wrinkled thoughtfully. “How long am I keeping it here? I need this space.” He didn’t. They both knew he didn’t.

—

So they both forgot about the couch delivery, big deal! (Huh, actually…) Nope, whether it was a case of them being too gay to remember, or like actual important stuff getting the best of their memories, it didn’t matter. Everything had turned out just fine. Maybe next time she’d write reminders like that in her notes app, though (lesson learned). She couldn’t rely on her beautiful brain if her beautiful brain was filled with a buncha other stuff. These days most of her energy went into holding up the fort that was her mental stability (an all-hands-on-deck type of task), so of course some things slipped!  

A lot more of Kavanagh was rubbing off on her, Jade wanted to quip, but that was neither here nor there. Cause finding the person who allowed her to free the weirdo she always had inside was an amazing feeling that she didn’t wanna give up. Going back to a time before Regan, where she was a totally normal person? (That’s right) No, thank you! Whatever dirty joke was blooming on her lips died as the chalk couch occupied her thoughts. “Look, I’ll google how to clean chalk, I bet water will do fine, and I happen to enjoy mopping so,” she’d have to draw the rectangle by memory next time Regan saw it, but it would be fine. Right? (Crap, what if Regan could tell the difference?)

“Yup. We wanna make it offish,” which was like, a weird thing to say when she was currently wearing her big, meaningful Irish ring that Regan gifted her when they shared love declarations. (It wasn’t a proposal. She would’ve known) (She would’ve, right?). “But I still have my stuff at my old apartment and the cabin is empty from when Regan skedaddled to Ireland so, you could say it’s barebones,” she snickered at her own joke, biting down her smile to continue the convo. “So this would be ours,” there was no need to like, explain most of that cause Emilio had been to their place already to play games with Regan, but when had that ever stopped her from yapping? 

She stopped fussing with the wrapper of Emilio’s sandwich (soon to be hers) and folded her arms over her chest. “This is the best place,” she raised her eyebrows at him, a silent ‘Where else could it go?’ implied in the gesture. Did he want her to get mushy and talk about how he was the one person she trusted with her first big adult purchase? She would! It was just weird of him to wanna hear all that. “Plus, this was the closest to Just Couches. I didn’t want my couches traveling too far until they had their permanent home,” she spared him, actually. Cause she did show up unannounced, it was common decency. (And the whiskey felt like too small of a thank you gift, now that she stared at her beautiful green couch in perfect condition).

Jade groaned with him, except hers was in mocking, obviously. She kept at it until he realized how embarrassing it was. With a chortle, she gave him a look one would give a kicked puppy. “Poor you, Teddy’s so evil for forcing you into a comfy bed and a clean space, aren’t they? You’re so dramatic,” her eyes sparkled in a teasing way. “The door is like, really big… I’m sure you can slip undetected any time. You can probably carry everything you own in one hand, even. So I dunno what’s stopping ya,” with a shrug she picked up her sandwich and walked back to the couch (es), keeping a safe distance so food didn’t spill on it. (Knowing her? Always an option). “Let’s give it two weeks, Regan is making inquiries about a house,” she inspected the couch with a smitten look on her face, turning back to Emilio. “It has knife pockets! A hundred of them”.

—

He could see the innuendo forming on the tip of her tongue, and while he liked to think the look he shot her spared him from hearing it, he knew better than to assume he had any power whatsoever over Jade. If she refrained from making a dirty joke, it was only because she’d decided she didn’t want to make a dirty joke. “I do not own a mop,” he said flatly, glaring at the chalk drawing on the floor. In all honesty, the drawing did very little to dirty up the already filthy floor; it had been sticky since long before he moved in, each step making a strange squelch that he’d always just ignored. (Something that was actually far easier since a banshee screamed in his face and left one of his ears perpetually ringing, so… maybe he actually owed Kavanagh a thank you for that one. Thanks for letting an evil banshee who lived in your hometown scream my hearing to shit was the kind of conversation starter he would not be implementing any time soon, though.) 

As always, he had to take a moment to unpack what Jade was saying and marry it to what she meant. It was a slow process, like rusty gears spinning in a broken watch. Offish. Official. Make it official. His brow furrowed, the explanation he’d gathered not one that really made sense. “Wasn’t it already?” If Jade and Regan hadn’t been ‘official’ until they bought couches together, what the hell had they been doing before? Was buying couches together a necessary step in solidifying a relationship? He’d never bought a couch with Teddy. Were the two of them official? It’d be awfully embarrassing if they weren’t, Emilio thought. 

Shaking the thought away — he’d ask Teddy about it later, probably — he looked back to Jade with a squint and a tilt of his head. “And you couldn’t have waited until you had your own place to send it to to order couches?” He understood not wanting them delivered to the cabin — Emilio, of all people, knew how well four walls could absorb bad memories and inject them into everything housed within them — but he felt there were options that weren’t sending the couches (no, couch, fuck the chalk outline, he wasn’t doing this) to his apartment. 

But… there was something about Jade’s tone when she insisted that this was the best place for the couch. There weren’t a lot of people who trusted Emilio anymore. The fact that Jade had enough faith in him to send something that was clearly important to her here, to his place, and trust him to accept it without question… That meant something. It was hard for even Emilio to remain angry at that. Even if his apartment being close to Just Couches probably did play a pretty heavy role in things.

Sighing, he shook his head and threw one hand up in quiet defeat. The other hand remained in his pocket, fingers twitching as they gripped what he’d found there. The strange pull he felt moved him towards Jade, towards the green couch with all the pockets. “I am a hostage,” he insisted flatly, clearly unbothered by it. “You should be rescuing me, not sending me couches.” He leaned down, inspecting one of the knife pockets. His couch didn’t have knife pockets. He was going to have to talk to Teddy.

But… there was something more important he needed to do first. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t understand it, but he knew it needed to be done. Straightening, he slipped his hand from his pocket, gripping something small and wrapped in a yellow peel, and dropped it subtly into Jade’s pocket instead. “What kind of house does Kavanagh look at?” He questioned, giving no outward indication that anything had happened at all. “What’s she into? Does it have a morgue in the basement?” He made a face.

—

Her flabber was well and truly gasted when she learned Emilio didn’t own a mop. Wow. You think you know a guy and then, bam! he doesn’t own a mop. Which… fine, alright, yup… It totally tracked, who was she kidding? They didn’t spend months in that questionable (according to Regan) couch for her to believe Emilio kept his place spotless. Okay. Jade was just shook by the admission, not cause it came from Emilio. Still, she fixed him with a look of disbelief cause this was unfinished business, they would go over his mopless behavior at a more appropriate time. But he had brought up Regan, and Regan always came first. (Well…) “I mean, we are official, obviously. We’ve been bone partners since she came back,” and she wasn’t gonna go over the fact that it was Regan who had to ask the ‘what are we?’ question, she had a reputation to uphold. “But this is like…we’re planning for a life together type of thing. A house is a big deal! And it does feel a bit U-haul-y, I know what you’re gonna say,” she waved her hand, positive that Emilio was not gonna say any of that, actually. “But it’s also from a practical standpoint, neither of us has a place to live right now, so why not make the best of it? The couch is to represent we’re both in it to win it. It being love”.

After Jade explained to him the reasoning behind delivering the couches to his place, he seemed satisfied enough with the answer, if his dramatic sigh was anything to go by. She smiled smugly at him, a small exchange that felt so familiar it swept Jade with a wave of nostalgia. And then she was weirded out, cause why was Emilio making her think of Onyx? He should be hit with a (new) mop just for that. “The couch was a spur of the moment thingy, you know us… so spontaneous,” she shrugged, the glint in her eyes making it clear she knew Emilio would argue Regan and spontaneous didn’t go in a sentence together. Messing with him was just too much fun. She just had to open her mouth and he was aggravated. 

Finally, he rounded the desk and joined her to check out the gem that was her new couch, with its infinite pocket space. “Uh-huh. Okay, bud… I’m sure I’ll think of something to get you out of there. Just make sure you’re not too tangled up in sheets when I come,” she rolled her eyes, patting his shoulder in mock commiseration, then guiding him to the star of the show. Jade hummed in approval, mouthing ‘yup’ and ‘that’s right’ every now and then, as Emilio discovered new hiding spots. She was so besotted with her beautiful couch that she didn’t sense the new weight in her pocket, just went about her business, beckoning Emilio to check the back of the couch. And oh, they were discussing houses, he wanted to know what they were looking for. “Normal ones,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like Regan subscribed to the rules of obvious. (The only thing she subscribed to were emojis). “Like, um… Places with sturdy windows. Or where people have died in… or where birds fly at a higher frequency, stuff like that,” again, she was so aware that none of that would sound normal to him. But every extra wrinkle that formed between his brows gave her extra life.   

The mention of a morgue dipped her mood a little bit, if only cause… she wished Regan wanted something to do with her old job. The job she loved more than anything. She wished Regan came to her asking if they could have a morgue in the basement. She’d built the morgue herself if there was ever a sign that Regan wanted to go back to the place where she found her purpose. “Nope, no morgue, ”Jade pursed her lips, shrugging off that feeling super quickly. “She’s making inquiries about a house we saw on Decompee Ave. It’s actually totally normal… ish. And it has a lawn, so I’m definitely growing something there,” the idea of domestic bliss with Regan brought back a smile to her face. She took a bite of her sandwich, nodding when the flavors hit. She chose a good one, yup. “Maybe the next sandwich I’ll bring you will be with fresh veggies grown in my garden.” And shoot, she spilled some honey mustard on her shirt. She reached inside her pocket, cause she always carried extra napkins, just in case, but something else got in the way. 

“Oh! I don’t remember packing this,” she pulled out a ripe banana out of her pocket, waving it in Emilio’s face. “It's a good source of potassium, right?” She was positive that was debunked a while back, but hey, bananas were still delicious! “Do you want it?”

—

Her expression told him that she figured he ought to own a mop, but Emilio was also pretty sure she hadn’t really expected him to. When he’d lived in this apartment full-time, before the Teddy of it all, he hadn’t owned much of anything. The mattress in the bedroom was there when he’d moved in; the couch that had been replaced by another of Regan’s antics had come from a dumpster. (The desk he’d used for Axis had also come from a dumpster, but no one seemed anywhere near as bent out of shape about that one as they all were about the couch. Apparently, some pieces of furniture were acceptable to pull from dumpsters while others weren’t.) Maybe that, in part, was why Jade and Regan moving in together made sense to him. His own life had been pretty shit before Teddy insisted he move into their too-big house, and things were better now. Jade (and Regan, fine) deserved to have things better, too. He wanted that for them, even if he wasn’t so good at saying it. Still… “Lot of pressure to put on a couch.” His tone was dry, expression lightly amused. “Lot of pressure to put on a couch in my apartment. You really didn’t have anywhere else you could have sent it? I know you have other friends.” Friends with bigger spaces to store couches. Friends with mops to clean up the chalk. Friends who weren’t Emilio, which would make this whole thing not his problem. That was the most important bit.

But it was too late to change it now. The couch was here, in his apartment, and Jade definitely wasn’t going to move it until she had a house with Regan to move it to. And Emilio didn’t spend nearly as much time in this apartment as he used to, anyway, so it wasn’t like it mattered. The couch could stay here if it needed to. The chalk drawing could remain on the floor. There were bigger things to worry about. For example… “Spontaneous? Does this mean something in English I don’t know about? Or is Kavanagh different than she was the last time I saw her? Maybe you need an exorcist more than a couch.” 

He snorted at her promise, nodding his head. “Mmm, maybe you text me before you bring the cavalry. Spend a lot of time in those sheets. And the halls. And the kitchen counters.” His expression was flat and his tone was unapologetic, though he definitely would have denied the last one if someone like Levi brought it up. The house was a little too full for such activities now, but there had been a period where Teddy and Emilio had been more or less the only occupants. They’d made good use of that time. 

He’d also probably deny the fact that he was a little impressed with the couch. The one at Teddy’s hid many knives, but there were no pockets designed for such things on it. The hiding spots were more makeshift than anything else, things stuck between cushions and behind pillows to ensure that no one seated could be caught off guard and unarmed. This was much better. And, with the strange desire to shove a banana in Jade’s pocket out of the way, Emilio could really admire it. He listened as Jade described the kind of places she and Regan were looking at, the number of wrinkles forming between his furrowed brows growing with each addition. “These are not things people look at when buying houses,” he told her, though he was hardly the expert on such things. His house in Mexico had been purchased solely because of its proximity to his family, with nothing else considered. He’d never bought any other houses. He’d never even really chosen where to live. The apartment in Worm Row had been something of convenience, Teddy’s home one he’d more or less been dragged into kicking and screaming (or so he’d claim). Maybe people did look into things like the ones Jade mentioned when buying houses.

It wasn’t important, anyway. No, what was really important was that that itch was back in his fingers. The weight in his pocket had returned and, with it, the desire to transfer said weight to Jade’s pocket without explanation. He half listened as she went on about growing things in her yard, humming in quiet acknowledgement. “Peppers,” he offered. “Should grow peppers.” He almost added that his sister had grown peppers in Mexico, that she’d cooked with them and brought food to his house back when the things he ate tasted real and not like ash, but saying that felt like saying too much. He wasn’t sure he could talk about Rosa without the topic falling into the slayer of it all, and it was easier to avoid that subject with Jade, these days. 

She pulled the banana from her pocket, and the desire to replace it with the one in his own grew into something hard to push down. He stared at the banana, eyes darting to her face. Leaning forward, he took the banana with one hand… and used the other to subtly drop the second one into her pocket. “Put it in one of your knife pockets,” he said flatly. “For later.” He demonstrated by dropping the banana into one of the pouches on the sofa. “There you go.”

—

Okay, maybe it was a lot of pressure to put on a couch (or two couches and an ottoman), maybe she was putting all her hopes and dreams for the future she wanted with Regan in a piece of furniture, but Jade wasn’t gonna admit that. And let Emilio be right, in this economy? Nuh-huh. Her couch was still the best couch in the world, so she liked her odds. If any couch in the world had her back, it would be this one. Yup. (And most of them, probably. That was what couches did for backs, anyway). Emilio was still super confused by her and Regan’s decision to send the couch to him, though, for whatever reason. So Jade paused on that, nibbled on that nugget a little longer. “If you’re looking for validation you can say it, you know? I will validate you so hard,” she inched closer with an all too pleased grin on her face. “I wanted you to have my couch, what about it? Just like I’d take care of any couch you ever decide to get, chalk outline or not.” 

People like them didn’t get to have friends for long, didn’t they? She wasn’t discovering anything new. Duty and death had a way of cockblocking meaningful relationships, especially when you were all in about it. Like, almost the entirety of the little crew she created when she got into town was already out of her life. (And sure, that was mainly cause of her dabbling in villainy, but… one reflection at a time, okay?). 

People snapped in and out of her life, friendships fizzled out, and trust broke to irreparable extents (it was the price to pay, she never questioned it) (and maybe, possibly, she was realizing that she should have). But Emilio had stayed. And he tried talking to her about the hard stuff even when all she wanted was to cover her ears and yell louder than him. And sometimes he said weird stuff, like he trusted her (for some inexplicable reason) and most of all, he showed up. He complained all the way through, obviously, but he showed up. She knew that if she was beaten to a pulp, barely breathing in a dirty alley and she called, he’d show up. She knew that if Regan needed help defeating silly virtual murderers, he’d show up. Actions always spoke louder than words with him. And wasn’t that the type of stability she and Regan deserved in their lives? “You are the friend I wanted guarding this couch. Couches, I mean…” she glanced quickly at the rectangle on the floor. Yup, still there. (Still not a couch). She totally should’ve bought those extra cushions at least.  

As expected, Emilio took the bait, arguing against Regan being described as spontaneous. Oh, if he only knew how spontaneous Regan could be when it came to stuff like seeing maggot masses or carrying dead deer through a bog. “I’m telling ya, spontaneous…” But actually, Jade needed to save that little tidbit of info for the future (at a moment it could reach maximum comedic effect). She laughed at his comment, her expression quickly shifting from a grin to something more serious when he went on about his sexcapades. She let out a fake scoff, smacking his arm with the back of her hand. “You’re so crass sometimes, have some decorum,” she didn’t keep a straight face at that, her act crumbling with a chortle. She nudged Emilio to continue examining the couch, absolutely delighting in the way another little line was added between his eyebrows the more she explained their ideal home. Of course, she had to double down on that, committing to the bit. “They’re totally very sought conditions for most home owners, you just haven’t been in the market for a while,” she shrugged, letting out a dramatic sigh.    

Amid discussions of sex and houses and gardens (so basically every typical conversation between them), Jade clocked the sudden misty look on Emilio’s face. She had enough context already to realize he was flashbacking hard to times before he lost his whole world. She watched him with a gentle smile on her lips, waiting for him to stop looking like he was having That’s so Raven visions. “I will grow peppers, actually” she promised softly, making a mental note to ask later which one exactly. He probably had thoughts on that as well. “But it was totally my idea first, you don’t get bragging rights if they turned out amazing. Which they will.” Was there an equivalent to the Jade sauce but for gardening? Maybe Siobhan would know. But like, she was pretty sure the Jade sauce had the range for soil as it did for worms, she was a multitalented queen. (Cause it was already compost, technically). Her garden (their garden) would be the most fertile garden to ever garden, and she’d get to share peppers with her friends.

The second time around she did feel Emilio’s movement, and the extra weight in her pants. She only had so many pockets (she didn’t wear cargo pants, after all). He took the banana she offered and placed it in one of the pockets, plastic cover protecting the frame bunched up in the crease as a result. “But… they’re knife pockets, not banana pockets…” and probably like, remote control pockets, but Jade narrowed her eyes. Something was lowkey odd. Highkey, really. With her free hand, she held out a second banana to Emilio. “And now, I’m positive I didn’t ride her with two bananas in my pockets. Are you trying to tell me something?” 

—

It was jarring, somehow, to hear Jade reply so easily that she’d sent the couches here because she’d wanted him to be the one to look after them. Emilio found it strange, though he didn’t think he was supposed to. He’d been the kind of person people trusted in the past — his mother may not have liked him, but she’d been willing to rely on him when she needed someone to take care of things, and so had Juliana, and Rhett, and Rosa, and Edgar, and Lucio — but it all felt far away now. The man who had been trustworthy and reliable in Mexico felt like a different person than the man who stood in this apartment staring at a couch and the outline of a couch, being told that he was trusted with both. He wasn’t sure he’d earned it, but Jade was giving it to him all the same. And maybe there was nothing he could do about that. He trusted Jade; maybe part of that meant allowing her to trust him back.

So he didn’t make a comment about how she probably shouldn’t trust him, and he bit back the urge to make one about how he wasn’t sure he really wanted her couch (or couches) in his apartment, too. He rolled his eyes, pretended to be irritated, and let the soft look on his face betray the fact that he really wasn’t. 

“Yeah, well, if Teddy ever buys a couch and has nowhere to put it, I hope you know I’m telling them to send it to your house,” he replied. It was as much a reciprocation of trust as it was a gripe, and he figured Jade would know as much. Emilio had more friends than he used to, more friends than he’d ever meant to make in this town, but he had few who understood him the way Jade did. He had few who’d grown up the way he had, who knew what it was like to be raised a weapon rather than a child and carry the expectations that came with that designation. He and Jade didn’t see eye to eye on hunting things, sometimes — though he thought she might have been wavering a little lately — but she still understood the bulk of it. She still knew what it was like to live your whole life just waiting for the end of it. That wasn’t the kind of thing Emilio took for granted. Their friendship wasn’t the kind of thing he’d take for granted, either. Even if that meant letting someone draw the outline of a couch on his floor.

He rolled his eyes as she insisted that Regan really was spontaneous, deciding not to ask for any specific examples because he knew exactly what kind of examples Jade would provide. It wasn’t as if he cared hearing about Jade’s sex life; he knew plenty about it, had been a part of it for a while there. It was just… a little odd to hear about Jade’s sex life with Regan. Regan Kavanagh, Emilio thought, was someone whose sexual habits and preferences he preferred not to think about in any sense whatsoever. (He wondered if there were worms involved. The thought disgusted him so much that he made a face.) “Me?” He huffed, hiding his amusement. “I don’t even give details. You give details. Too many details.” He rolled his eyes, still studying the couch as she continued to describe her ideal home. “That’s such bullshit. No one but Regan is looking for shit like that.” He hated that he was only about seventy percent certain.

The fact that Jade never seemed to comment on the faraway look he got sometimes was another reason why he valued their friendship so much. She didn’t press him for answers, didn’t ask for more than he was willing to give, and he liked that. He needed that. Emilio was a box secured with so many locks, that keys didn’t even exist for all of them. People could shake the box, could rattle the hinges and pry at the edges and, if they kept at it long enough, a few things might slip out. But it was an uncomfortable process, an unnatural one; he preferred to avoid it, and Jade was always willing to let him in spite of her curiosity. He liked that, appreciated it. She’d grow peppers, but she wouldn’t ask him why. He rolled his eyes as she insisted that she’d claim credit for the idea, expression amused. “Yeah, yeah,” he agreed. “It’s all yours. I’m sure they’ll be great.” She’d bring him some, he knew, and Teddy would cook them into some complicated dish he didn’t understand. And they wouldn’t taste like they had years ago, but he’d eat them anyway. He’d feel decent when he did. And it’d be good. 

Less good, maybe, was this strange urge with the banana. The second he dropped the latest one into Jade’s pocket, he was filled with a strange sense of relief; like scratching an itch, or moving out of a position you’d held for too long to remain comfortable. “You can put bananas in knife pockets.” His pockets were knife pockets, after all, and he was pretty sure he already felt another banana in one. He needed to put this one in Jade’s pocket, too, except… she was catching on. Of course she was catching on, because he was putting bananas in her pockets. It wasn’t really subtle. “I think there is something wrong with my jacket,” he said seriously. “It keeps — there are bananas. And they need — I need to —” He yanked the latest one from his pocket without really thinking, pushing it into Jade’s pocket in a fluid movement. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

—

“Puh-lease, be my guest!” Jade grinned up at him feeling totally victorious (hey, wasn’t that a nice show?), cause the fact that he was even entertaining this hypothetical scenario was a win for her. He was ridiculous, his tough act almost as convincing as Regan’s ‘I’m human’ act. (They should’ve taken pointers from her, cause her ‘holding it together’ routine was still fooling everybody around). But well, people had to be some level of ridic to be in her life, didn’t they? It was like a moth to a flame for Jade. That way, she was the normal one of the bunch, yup. Exactly. That was how it was meant to be (that was definitely what was happening now).

Jade lifted a finger, to stop Emilio right there. “Nuh-huh. There’s no such thing as too many details. It’s called storytelling, Emilio. The juice is in the details. Keep it in mind,” she raised a pointed eyebrow at him, tapping her temple, cause she was imparting genius wisdom for free. “I like my brain to be wet and pounding with details,” she bit the inside of her cheek, holding off from dropping the very obvious innuendo lingering in her words. (Cause she didn’t even mean like that) (Sometimes she just said things that could be misinterpreted as suggestive. That was all). Another wrinkle appeared on his face, so that meant she had to keep going, like it was her sustenance. “I would never do that, why would I lie? We’re like, fighting three other families who want the same house, so people are definitely into that,” it was true, actually… which made Jade wonder if the other people were also banshees. Or death stans. (Or serial killers). Or just generally people with excellent taste. 

Even if it was like, a small thing (a silly thing, her mind wanted to point out), Jade appreciated the vote of confidence over the whole garden thingy. She wasn’t gonna get all… serious about it (when would she ever?) but confidence wasn’t something people bestowed upon her very often. Rarely ever. It went back to like, the beginning of times probably, when her sibling used to hover over her while imparting any kinda lesson. Cause why would she ever do anything they could, but better? (And she pretended she loved it cause, attention! Right?). She shut down that window into the past super quick once Ruby’s voice started drifting a little closer to the forefront of her mind, before it could awaken the reminders of her failures, and focused on what mattered. Peppers. And gardens. And her gorgeous, gorgeous couch. 

And… bananas? (Where… the minions financing this ad spot?)

She clicked her tongue, taking the knife pockets in her couch more seriously than she took… well, just about everything. (Cause obviously, she couldn’t even vouch for her D with the same conviction these days). “I dunno, I feel like bananas are meant to be elsewhere. Like, on bread. Or… banana split.” She shuffled toward the desk and dropped her sandwich there, since clearly they had like, important stuff to think about. Namely, was Emilio about to come out as a banana enjoyer? Was this all his evil plan to get Regan to finally bake him some banana bread? (Extra mayo). Cause he would never ask, obviously. He’d go about it in a roundabout way, like… pretending there was something wrong with his jacket? Uh-huh. Sure, buddy. 

Jade placed her hands on her hips, watching as Emilio wasn’t even subtle the third time, pushing another banana into her front pocket. (It was a little sus how a full banana could fit into her woman's jeans’ pocket, but). But he looked like, seriously confused about the whole situation. She extended her hand, looking expectantly. “Well, how many more do you have in there?” It felt like the weirdest of Dejavus. Jade was pretty sure she’d ‘what do you have there? Lullaby like, yesterday. Except Emilio didn’t make it a habit out of bringing her random items. Or was he a black cat who loved to yap. But like, he did have the personality of a cat. “Show me,” she insisted. “Is this your way of saying you’re into baking now? Be honest. I could probably ask Regan to come over after work and whip us some bread.”

—

People had never been something Emilio understood very well. He often felt he’d only known his siblings when they were young, that they’d all been strangers to one another in adulthood. Even with Juliana, they’d both maintained a habit of closing their eyes to the pieces of one another that didn’t fit easily into the palms of their hands, choosing to ignore the things that were too heavy to carry with ease. She’d pretended he was a better hunter, he’d pretended she was a better mother, and when they fought and the pretending got harder, they’d both pretended it didn’t matter in the long run. For years, he’d convinced himself that that was all love was — standing next to someone and pretending. He had loved his wife. It wasn’t the kind of thing he’d ever doubted. But now, in Wicked’s Rest, he was beginning to understand that sometimes, love was a lot more than just pretending.

He didn’t understand Jade, but he didn’t pretend to, either. She said things that made no sense, and he told her, without hesitation, that the words coming from her mouth were strange and difficult to understand. And he loved her, and she loved him, and neither of them really pretended anymore. It was the same with Teddy, with Wynne. With Regan, too, even if he’d never admit to that. He didn’t need to understand people to love them; it was more of a relief than he’d ever thought it would be.

“It’s going to be a big couch,” he threatened, and he felt light. “It’ll take up your whole living room. You won’t be able to walk.” He wondered if Teddy would humor him if he actually decided to find a big couch to take up Jade’s entire living room just to get back at her for the chalk on his floor. Teddy was usually pretty willing to go along with his petty schemes, but they also liked Regan and Jade. He figured he had a fifty-fifty shot at convincing them. Maybe sixty-forty if he put out. 

Jade kept going, because she always did. She talked about her brain, big and wet, and Emilio made a face. “I don’t even think you have a brain,” he said childishly. “I think it’s all empty in there. Lots of free space. You should have put your couch there.” There was no way they were competing for places when their standards included shit like people dying in houses they wanted to buy. This town was weird and all, but there had to be a line drawn somewhere. “If anyone else is trying to buy the same houses Regan likes, we need to check their basements,” he said. It was meant to be a joke, so he pushed away the brief flash of memory of Caleb’s basement, of the chair Aesil tied him to and the blood on the floor. He was over that. He was. It was nothing, it was fine. (Eventually, he figured, repeating it would make it true.)

The bananas worked in his favor, in this case. The overwhelming urge to stick them in Jade’s pockets was enough to outweigh the downward spiral that threatened to tug him to the floor, so he leaned into it. “They fit in the pockets,” he pointed out, nodding to the one he’d dropped in the knife pocket. It did fit pretty perfectly, as if the pocket were designed for a banana. Maybe all pockets were, Emilio thought. (Yeah. There was some kind of magic bullshit going on here. He’d never thought of bananas in pockets before this moment.) 

“I don’t have any in here,” he replied, somewhere between irritable and perplexed. “They just keep popping up.” He held open the pocket so she could see inside and, at the moment, it was void of bananas. There were knives, there were stakes, there was holy water; there shouldn’t have even been room for a banana, with hot overstuffed his pockets were. And yet, when he pulled back and let the pocket fall closed again, he could feel one in there. Groaning, he pulled it out, immediately pushing it into Jade’s pocket. All semblance of secrecy was gone now; she knew he was putting bananas in her pockets, he knew he was putting bananas in her pockets. Everyone knew he was putting bananas in her pockets. He still couldn’t stop. “I think this is your fault. I think your couches did this.”

—

“Oh nooo, not a big couch” Jade shuddered as if she were shaking in her boots. Like Emilio hadn’t noticed she was three apples tall. A big couch would never hurt her. Emilio, however… “And then Teddy will be too far away for cuddles, you played yourself,” her lips twisted into a fake frown, “are you sure you want that, buddy?” she challenged him, wiggling her eyebrows at him. “I bet yours won’t even have knife pockets,” a beat passed, and Jade forgot she was messing with him. “But it should, you know? I’ll give you the details on the model so you can look it up,” and sure, there was a ‘besties matching’ fire that had suddenly stoked in her heart, but she was gonna be so chill about it.  

Emilio had the gall to make a face at her words, and Jade decided that it gave her more life than any added wrinkle between his brows did. She cracked up, fully immersing in the silliness of the banter. “Pft. I’m sorry to disappoint, there’s like no free space at all actually. It’s big, lemme tell ya. And bulging. Regan thinks so. Doesn’t matter what you fill it with,” that’s exactly why she knew her brain was so large. Cause she had so much room for so many things at all times. Right about now, there was this convo, and also like, the minions (due to their association with bananas), and then Gru, which led to The Office, which led to TV shows, which led to thinking about snuggling in bed with Regan while she pirated Yellowjackets, which led to the 18+ section of her brain. (Which included some sultry saxophone music playing in the background) (Which catapulted her back to pop culture, via CRJ association). Wait, what were they… “I bet my brain’s bigger than yours,” that was probably true, also. She did hurt her mom’s hooha when she came out, the odds were stacked in her favor. 

She knew it was a silly argument, and Emilio did too. (And did the fact that the added lines on his face were around his mouth and his eyes make her feel a little fuzzy inside? Maybe so). Neither would back down and that was fun. Like childlike fun, right? Hypothetically. Maybe she didn't know what being seven was, and she assimilated whatever trendy movies depicted childhood in a fun way. Cause her seven (and Emilio’s) involved a knife in each hand and learning where to stab to reap the best results. And it didn’t involve silly quips about big brains or couches, it involved her eldest brother snapping at her in moments where she could not live up to his expectations. (Her brain was definitely put into question, just not in a jokey way). Luckily, another tab opened in her mind sticking out to the forefront and leaving that uncomfy reflection behind. She snapped her fingers at Emilio’s suggestion, reaching a new level of excitement. “Good idea. If we find something on them we can snitch about it, so their chances will lower. And the house will be ours,” She clapped her hands, fully planning this stakeout. (Oop, another tab open). She was pretty sure she could find out where the others’ offers for their dream house lived anyway. “I’d like to see badass P.I in action”.

Jade stared at the bananas once more, hands still on her hips. Just cause they fit in pockets, it didn’t mean they should be stuck in every crevice available. She was pretty sure the Emergency Department would agree and sponsor her message. She looked inside his pocket, unsurprised to learn he was being truthful. This was exactly the kinda whimsical she supported. She was totally intrigued. “Huh…” and then outta nowhere, another banana was born, as soon as she backed away. Her pocket was a victim again of Emilio’s bananas. “I did this? I’ve spent more time with the couches than you have, you don’t see me pulling bananas out of my pockets…” She opened her hand just in time Emilio pulled out another one, and she intercepted it before it reached her pocket. “I wish you would’ve picked like, watermelons or mangos,” no offense to bananas, lovely queens as they were, just… she was in the mood for something fresher. “Are you sure you don’t have some in there?” It was worth a shot. But the more she thought about eating, the more she went over what they’d done since she arrived. “Wait you brought cheese from the bonfire, didn’t you?” She smiled innocently, cause welp! it might have been her fault after all.

—

She wasn’t taking him very seriously, which… was probably fair, given the subject matter. Emilio was threatening her with a big couch, and it was probably an empty threat, anyway, and they both knew it. Still, he scowled as she began poking holes in his plan. “Teddy would not stay far away, even on a big couch. You don’t know how much they like to be close.” Teddy was tactile, and Emilio liked that. Sometimes, he needed to touch things to remember they were real, needed to feel something under his fingers to understand that it wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t sure if Teddy knew that, or if they just liked to hang off him for their own reasons. Probably a mixture of both, given how in tune with him his partner tended to be. His expression turned more interested at the mention of knife pockets, and he nodded. “Right now, I just put them between the cushions,” he commented. “Behind the pillows, under the table. Pockets would be better.” No chance of anyone accidentally sitting on one that way. He knew he’d never hear the end of it if Levi ended up with a knife in its ass because Emilio left one sitting in a bad position. 

Despite his expression — or, more likely, because of it — Jade continued talking about her brain. Emilio picked up one of the pillows resting on the intruding couch, tossing it in her direction like the pinnacle of maturity he was. “Your brain is tiny,” he insisted. “Like a peanut. Mine is bigger. And better, too.” He wasn’t sure how true it was. Emilio had never considered himself a particularly smart man. It had always taken him a little longer than it took other people to pick up on even the most basic of concepts, like things had trouble settling in his head. He’d never even had any kind of formal education, so he couldn’t speak on his test taking skills or ability to do homework. The only reason he even knew how to read was because Lucio had insisted on teaching his sister’s children as much, claiming it was the kind of thing they’d need to know even as Elena herself had responded dubiously. When it came to teaching Flora, it had been generally agreed that Juliana would be in charge of the more intellectual things. Odds were, Jade did have Emilio beat in the smarts department.

Odds of Emilio admitting to that remained slim to none, of course.

It was almost relaxing, arguing like this. When it was lighthearted, when winning or losing the argument had little to no effect on anything else in any kind of way that mattered, any kind of way that was real, bickering became less of a frustration and more of a way to relieve stress. He and Jade could fight about who had the bigger brain and know that neither would ever berate the other for stupid decisions. He could make a mistake and understand that Jade’s first response, every time, would be to ask how she could help him overcome the consequences. It was simple and it was easy and it was nice. Even when Jade took his statement about the ‘competition’ she and Regan had for any houses they were interested in being suspicious in entirely the wrong way, Emilio felt at ease. He snorted as she began to launch into some gameplan full of sabotage and stakeouts. “If you want to see the badass P.I. in action,” he said dryly, “you have to pay for his services. I do not work for free.” Granted, Regan had probably paid him for enough little things that he owed Jade some free services, but he’d never admit to that, either.

He wouldn’t have even admitted to the bananas if she hadn’t called him out on it directly, but carrying on the charade would have certainly grown exhausting sooner rather than later. He glared at her as she tried to avoid the banana, pleased when it found its way into her pocket, anyway. And he didn’t know why he was pleased about that, but maybe it didn’t matter. “How much time have you spent with the couches? Because they have gone from the store to my apartment.” Maybe there was some switch with it, some way the store manager had turned on the banana shit the moment the couches — couch, goddamn it, one couch, he was not doing this — left the warehouse floor. “I didn’t even pick the bananas! I don’t like bananas!” He didn’t like any food, most of the time, but he was beginning to form a vendetta against yellow fruit specifically. “What? Yes, I brought cheese. I was eating it before you came here.” It almost sounded as if he was bragging, as if consuming food was a thing he should have been rewarded for. (Teddy would have rewarded him, but Jade probably didn’t want the details on that.)

—

Maybe that was literally what she should’ve told Regan when the inconvenience of having a big couch came out. Like, it was true for her too, no matter how big a distance was between them, she wouldn’t have stayed away. But then again, there was something (or a lot) to be said about being cramped and unable to escape Regan’s body in a tight space. Mmmm, yup. Jade was pretty sure they chose the right, actually. Her mind drifted to where it was always going to drift, but before she could fully daydream about cuddling (right, cuddling) Regan on their new couch, Emilio had the nerve to interrupt and talk about pockets and stuff. Oh, right, cause… their couch was the best couch. And she was recommending it. “See, that’s exactly why you need the pockets. We don’t want anyone getting stabbed in the butt.” Not accidentally, at least. But she didn’t think Teddy or Emilio invited to their home anyone who actually deserved to be stabbed in the butt.  

The pillow came fast and unexpectedly at Jade for her to do something about it. Wow, so much for always being alert to incoming threats. Lesson learned. This was fine though, cause her extra soft pillows felt extra soft against her skin. Another point for their couch. But like, her jaw still hung open, flabbergasted by Emilio’s actions. “I’m choosing to trust the doctor on this, you know? She’s a woman of science. And she thinks my brain is big. Yours is probably like, really smooth,” but also, if this conversation was anything to go by, maybe he wasn’t alone in that. And this was his fault, obviously. Her brain cells (you know, all the ones) always decided to take five in his presence.  

“Wow, not even a family discount,” She crossed her arms over her chest at his request. A banana stuck out for each hand. Like they were blades. It was pretty funny. (Anything could be a weapon if you tried hard enough, probably). And of course, he was gonna charge. He was pretty sure he was squeezing as much cash as he could out of Regan. Well, actually she was positive of the fact, but, “fine, we have to support local business or whatever. Regan would pay for it too, anyway, she’s like… single-handedly keeping your business afloat. And it’s for a good cause, we gotta scout the competish,” she lifted an eyebrow at him, an unspoken threat behind the gesture. “She might wanna tag along, you know? Isn’t that super fun? We’re gonna need extra M&Ms in the trail mix for her. But don’t worry about that, I’ll handle the snacks.” And she was being totally generous by not suggesting playlists (even if, she was gonna curate a few just in case), cause Regan didn’t like music, and Emilio would probably grumble about how that’s not how he does his job or whatever. 

Plus, she did feel a little bad about bringing this potential banana curse onto him. Not that, she was gonna let him blame her couch for it though. (Maybe the ottoman. He could blame the ottoman). “How much time I spent with it? Well, that day when we bought it, and now… that’s gotta be like, half an hour more than you have.” But Jade did like, consider for a beat the possibility that maybe it was true, and something went down to turn the couch into a banana tree. She was pretty sure that was a false lead though. Especially after Emilio confirmed he brought cheese from the bonfire. Cause it wasn’t the first strange thing she was told about wacky things happening right after eating some. Like Ryan, who was allegedly mooing after. And Regan’s tongue was rainbow for a bit after. Huh. “So. Here’s the thing. The cheese might be the main culprit,” and was her use of detective language just her way of showing off to see if he could bring them along for the stakeout? Maybe so. 

“So what you’re gonna do is… not have that cheese anymore. I know, it was delicious, it’s a real tragedy that you can’t have more,” she pouted, wondering what other curses her cheese had caused. “My guess is, you’ll probably be fine after your stomach does its thing,” no need to get into details, smooth brain jokes aside, he understood. “I will want every banana you pull out in the process of it though. I’m telling Regan to make an apology banana bread. Do you have like, a tote bag or something, I can’t take ‘em all in my pants”.

—

As much as he hated to admit it in this particular moment (because she was being annoying), Jade made a pretty good point about the value of couch pockets. Things like this really couldn’t be oversold, could they? You couldn’t put a price on not accidentally stabbing your partner’s dad in the ass. (Emilio was confident that he was in no danger of being stabbed in the ass by his knives, and Teddy knew him well enough to know exactly where every single one was hidden, so Levi was the most plausible victim for ass stabbings.) He shrugged at Jade’s insistence, as if he wasn’t already making a mental note to talk to Teddy about getting a couch with a few more knife pockets than the one they had now. 

For now, though, he was content throwing pillows. Had the couch come with all these, or had Jade purchased them separately? Teddy liked pillows. Their bed was overflowing with them. They liked anything that provided comfort, which often made Emilio wonder what it was they saw in him. In any case, though, the pillows could represent another selling point. They were soft, bountiful, and good projectiles in a pinch. The one he tossed sailed smoothly through the air before hitting Jade, though the impact didn’t seem to be a very painful one. (He hadn’t intended for it to be, though. He was pretty sure he could make a pillow painful if he put his mind to it.) “She has bias,” he pointed out stubbornly. “She would tell you your brain was good even if it was small and bad. Which it is.” His hand went to his head at the mention of his own brain, fingers unconsciously pushing through his curls in a way that seemed almost defensive. “My brain is not smooth. It’s a very good brain.” 

This kind of petty, back and forth bickering was the kind of thing he’d figured he’d lost after Mexico. He and his siblings hadn’t done it as often as other families might have — things in the Cortez family were always a little more ‘life or death’ than they probably were for most sibling groups — but there was a certain nostalgia that came with it all the same. It made the world feel a little less heavy. Jade was good at that; Emilio wondered, sometimes, if she was even aware of it. In any case, he found he couldn’t argue with her description of a ‘family’ discount; it felt more accurate than he’d really care to admit. “If anything, I should charge you more for being you,” he replied with a huff. “You are always talking. I could charge you by the word. Then I get rich. You’re lucky I don’t do this.” She relented quickly, of course; Emilio smirked at the victory, looking just a little smug. The expression faltered, of course, when Jade mentioned Regan tagging along. Every time she accompanied him on an investigation, things went weird. There were sewer rats that turned into goo and took his voice away, or little people who jumped out of a computer and stabbed him with safety pins. “Does she have to come?” There was a hint of a whine to his voice. “I don’t think we need snacks, either.” Usually, his stakeout kit included nothing more than a flask. M&Ms seemed like an unnecessary addition.

But Jade, of course, would hear none of it. She’d already moved on to the (in her defense, more interesting) mystery of the bananas. “Do you have any bananas?” She didn’t. He knew she didn’t, because he hadn’t felt any bananas in her pockets when he’d been shoving his in there. Jade had escaped whatever strange curse was looming over him… and as she spoke, he realized why that might be. “Jade.” His voice was flat and unamused. “Did you bring cursed cheese to a bonfire and share it with everyone? With me?” That was what he was most upset about. The rest of the town could have banana curses, and he wouldn’t mind. But when it became his problem, things were just… a little different. 

He threw his hands up in the air, frustration building as he felt yet another banana already present in his pocket. He reached down and pulled it out, tossing it at her. “How long does it last? I cannot keep giving people bananas. Do you know what happens if I’m on a case, and I give someone a banana? Maybe they stab me, Jade! Maybe they stab me about the banana!” He was being a little dramatic. Odds of someone stabbing him over a banana seemed slim. But… Emilio liked being dramatic, sometimes. Especially in situations like this one. “I’m not giving you a bag. Carry the bananas in your arms. You deserve to have to do that.” 

—

Jade’s jaw dropped dramatically when Emilio accused Regan of having a bias. (So true, so fair, so valid) (But that wasn’t bias, that was just Regan having impeccable taste, that was all). She was so not conceding to Emilio though. “Nuh-uh. No way, she’s like the most impartial person to ever person. She likes plain yogurt, that’s how impartial she is” and sure, Jade knew that had nothing to do with objectivity and a whole lot to do with her partner’s adorable quirks, but if she asked Regan she would find a way to make plain yogurt sound like the most objective statement in the world. Anyway, what mattered here, was that Regan liked Jade, ergo… big brain (?). The dots were totally connected. Practically fused together. And just cause she saw the way Emilio reacted to her smooth-brained comment she decided to drop it. He had like, a chip on his shoulder about it. Which was kinda weird, cause he was a whole Private Investigator and that wasn’t something people who were actually smooth-brained could do. Oh well, everybody had their insecurities, didn’t they? (Except… fine, she wasn’t fooling anyone anymore either).

“I brighten your days and this is how I’m treated,” Jade bowed her head in mock defeat. In the words of her very good pal, who was due to pick up a candle next week: wowowowhowdare. “I can’t believe you’d do that to a sweet girl like me. You better be paying for the drinks if you get rich.” She always thought about that. Just… spending all her money to make her friends happy if she ever won the lottery. And probably bribe Rihanna to finish that freaking album. But she figured bribing a billionaire would probably be hard. Whatever she had to offer would be like, tip money for them. (But also, if they were greedy enough to become billionaires, maybe they’d be greedy enough to accept tips). Jade scoffed at Emilio’s apprehension over Regan tagging along their stakeout. “You say it like you two aren’t planning your next movie night,” Plus… she had ulterior motives, of course. She wanted them to bond. It’s not like she didn’t see how Regan yearned for her brothers. She would deny it, she would claim it was what had to be done in order to become an instrument, even now, she might claim they were better off away from her, but Jade knew there was a big place in Regan’s soggy heart for them. (And probably a smaller one for Al, but a place still). “She will come and we’re gonna have the best of times,” she tacked on, a little more insistent than before.

They were gonna have to pin in that particular convo, though, cause Emilio had finally figured out why he had the impulse to shove bananas into her pockets. “What! I didn’t know it was cursed!” Jade lied, knowingly. Well, sorta. She did know about Regan’s tongue before the bonfire (but in what world was a rainbow tongue a curse?). She pressed her lips together, suppressing the cackle when he threw his hands in the air. She schooled her face to show a little more concern about the bananas sprouting from Emilio’s pockets. (And you know what? She was being so mature and grown by making a total of zero jokes about bananas in his pants). She caught the banana tossed at her in mid-air, magically making more space in her hands. She was a girly after all,  jeans with no pocket space had taught her how to fit as many things as possible in her hands. She had years of practice for this specific scenario. “I dunno how long it lasts, but you’re the only person in the world who’d be offended by getting free bananas, be so for real. I say the free bananas would make your rivals happy. And happy people get distracted, and that way, they’re easier to stab,” Jade nodded, and she would’ve tapped her temple to show this all came from her big, bulging brain, but her hands were bananaful. 

Emilio was being a big ol’ drama king, but in a way that made her chest just a little less tight from all the past weeks of… tightness. (And nope, forget it. She hit snooze on that breakdown once again) (Who knew, maybe it was really allergies all along!) She chortled, rolling her eyes at his antics. “Fine! I’ll put them all in my delivery box!” She suggested, which was a totally generous offer from her cause they technically didn’t know if the cheese was to blame. But you don’t look a gift banana in the mouth (or something). She sat on her fancy new couch, which had been tested back at the store, and sure, there was a cover preventing it from getting the full experience, but her entire lower back sighed in relief. She silently accepted the next banana, eyes twinkling smugly at his defeated expression. They would be here for a while, so… better get comfy. “While you wait for the final banana, why don’t I update you on how your sim is doing?” Emilio didn’t get a word in, actually she wasn’t sure he even got a breath in before she interrupted. “So, guess how many kids he’s adopted now…”

—

[majunju]

misc ymkr doodles frm 2023/4

[rogdona]

[cozymochi]

wow guess who decided to honker down and finally bothered to properly make a full-body reference for this freak’s dorm uniform

[garadinervi]

Arte Povera. 13 italienisch Künstler – Dokumentation und neue Werke, Kunstverein München, München, 1971 (pdf here)

Feat.: Anselmo, Boetti, De Dominicis, Fabro, Kounellis, Merz, Paolini, Penone, Pisani, Pistoletto, Prini, Salvo, Zorio

Editors: Armin W. Boerne, Eva Madelung and Peter Nemetschek Contributors (Texts): Germano Celant, Luciano Fabro, Mario Merz, Giulio Paolini, Giuseppe Penone, Michelangelo Pistoletto, and Gilberto Zorio

Exhibition: May 26 – June 27, 1971

[mina-posts-nonsense]

tobias being protective over rudy

fights edburt for the first time to not hurt rudy:

btw, im not saying that he didn’t want to fight edburt bc he continually tries saying “no” to the possession- just noting that this is one of the first times he’s succeeded in getting control over himself. bc he felt so strongly about not hurting rudy …(yet he hurts him in full control of his body later)

tobi makes a blueberry smoothie:

we have tobias “obedience is my middle name and i submit unquestioningly to authority figures because of the abuse i suffered by my father and some pedo demon's hands" schneien actively holding up a hand and silencing a teacher lay into carmelo

that's excellent development for him! he cares enough to defy an order (something we see edburt too) on behalf of someone else!

was he right in throwing rudy's condition in his bully's face? no, but we’re just looking at him being protective- all he was trying to do is get carmelo to take accountability for his abuse and also try and prevent future abuse.

(tbh he's right in telling the teacher though.)

he tries to keep rudy safe:

(also he tries to interfere when he saw carmelo was bullying him for the first time):

at this point in the story rudy is just an annoying stranger, yet he still wants to get involved when he sees that annoying stranger be beaten. obv that is just the decent thing to do, but knowing what he’s been through- even that kernel of empathy is interesting, too bad it’s being continually stamped out of him.

tries to unnecessarily protect rudy against his dad (poor bby):

emo on emo violence:

sends emilio out to babysit:

he has no chill ilhsm

also here’s rudy being protective over tobi: https://www.tumblr.com/mina-posts-nonsense/786373585193353216/rudy-and-tobias-being-protective-over-each-other?source=share

[bluesourkiwi]

Internet archive please come back alive i need to watch los simuladores with the subtitles

[n-o-rah]

Although I am not on the rudymilio train (mainly bc theres no Tobias) i do get it, fun dynamic

Him w/o the pink haze:

[shiberamune]

i cooked up a new batch for u guys

[int3rn3tb0y]

fanfic idea!

Emilio gets empl*yed

my next idea is going to be @g3ntv getting empl*yed

[nicsalazar]

Doggone it || Emilio & Nicole

TIMING: Mid July LOCATION: Worm Row PARTIES: @mortemoppetere & @nicsalazar SUMMARY: Perro and Nacho's playdate gets interrupted by a hedgehound. CONTENT WARNING: None

Nicole leaned against the fence —despite the rust that would likely stick to her jacket— arms crossed over her chest as she watched Nacho jump on one of the other dogs. Perhaps, with a little too much energy. The pair had enjoyed a short walk before coming to the park, taking advantage of the unusually favorable weather conditions, but apparently that hadn't lessened his excitement about making new friends.

On the other hand, Nicole’s anxiety was… mostly at bay, but it still lingered at the prospect of meeting a stranger. Someone she knew, but didn’t really know. She subtly glanced at Emilio, who similarly kept an eye on Perro. She didn’t mind the lack of conversation. It didn’t feel like either of them were trying to fill the silence with unnecessary chatter. Which was miles better than wanting to talk but not knowing what to say. The most common scenario for her. Though Nicole’s curiosity kept growing, the more times they did this whole playdate thing. She had been content exchanging a few pleasantries and sticking with dog talk on previous occasions. It helped break the ice, soothe her own awkwardness. But it couldn’t hurt to push a little, right? See where that got her. 

“So, Emilio—” Nicole was just stating his name, not trying to get his attention. His name, coupled with the one he gave his dog had her wondering. “Where’s that… where are you from?” 

There was tension clinging to his shoulders as he watched Perro run through the park, though he knew it wasn’t a necessary anxiety. It was something that hadn’t left him entirely in years now, something that had made a home in his chest and refused to leave. It subsided, sometimes, with people he knew well enough. He could hang out with Andy or Leticia without feeling it, could spend time with Metzli and Nora and feel it push itself to the backburner. But Nicole… Emilio liked her. She was decent enough. But she was also still close to a stranger, even after several of these outings. They stuck to small talk, and that was fine. That was easy. 

But it did nothing for the tension.

Maybe Nicole felt it too. That was just about the only reason Emilio could imagine for the sudden shift in policy here. Where she’d normally ask about Perro, she surprised him and asked about him instead. Without meaning to, Emilio bristled. “Mexico,” he replied, realizing belatedly that that was obvious. His accent tended to give him away, and his slippery grasp of English usually confirmed it. Shifting, he decided to get a little more specific, at least. “Oaxaca. Left a couple years ago. What about you?”

It wasn’t often Nicole experienced a conversational win. If she could call it that. Was that a term present in the English language? She supposed only people drowning in anxious thoughts would even think to have a name for that. But, yes, it was a good choice to have broadened the conversation, because Emilio didn’t shut her down. So, win. If anything he appeared less… himself. Well, the version of him that she’d met so far, which was a lot like if someone shoved a mirror in front of a twenty two-year old Nicole, but that was neither here nor there. Maybe even the more real version of himself. Or— 

She shook her head, putting a stop to the snowballing effect one simple concept had in her head. Stay present, cut that shit out. 

“Ah, that tracks” she hummed, only confirming her suspicions. “Never been there, must be beautiful,” why would she? She had no connections to Mexico. But Nicole tried not to overthink whatever came out of her mouth. Good luck with that. “I figured, you know…” she gestured at his entire existence, omitting all the other facts she had already gone over, because well, obvious. “Not a lot of people around here name their dog Perro. But I guess— it does sound like something white people would do just to…” she added the last bit absently, preoccupied with her dog, who had decided to start pushing one of the smaller dogs. “Nacho, knock it off”. As well trained as he was, he had always been oblivious to his own strength.  

Nicole uncrossed her arms, fidgeting with her sleeve instead when the same question returned her way. “I’m from here. Not here, here. Connecticut” she pursed her lips, casually avoiding stepping on the emotional landmine associated with that kind of information. “But…” she gestured at herself this time. “One side came from Guatemala. Another’s from Puerto Rico” though, there wasn’t much tethering to her culture these days. “Never actually touched either place. Would be cool though. Warmer”.  

Beautiful. Emilio wasn’t sure it was a word he would assign to his home. Not anymore, at least. Could a place be beautiful with blood in the dirt? Could a place be nice when your last memory of it was in fleeing for your life? He struggled, sometimes, to remember the good parts. He struggled to picture his daughter’s face without seeing it still and lifeless, struggled to remember his wife without remembering how her corpse had looked in the living room floor. He wondered if other people were better at it or if it was normal to only know people as ghosts once they were gone, even when you’d loved them with everything you had while they were alive. Maybe, he thought, he was just bad at loving. Maybe he was the problem.

“It was,” he said, instead of saying any of the things he was thinking. Nicole didn’t need to hear the rest of it, and he doubted she’d want to. They were acquaintances who sometimes met at the dog park and let their dogs chase each other around. There was no need to make things any deeper than they had to be. The conversation felt a little less stifling as it went on, and he found himself letting out a small sigh and accompanying it with half a smile. “Ah, white people do shit like that all the time,” he agreed. White Americans more often than most.

Watching her out of the corner of his eyes while he kept most of his attention on the dogs, he nodded. “I haven’t been to that one,” he said. “Connecticut.” He struggled a little with the pronunciation, making a face. “It get cold there? Not sure I’m ready for my first full winter in Maine. I’m not a fan of the cold.” He nodded again as she spoke of her heritage. “Parents speak Spanish at home? Or always English?”

Nicole might have skillfully avoided stepping into her own tricky territory, but for one mortifying second she feared she set Emilio up for it. Navigating Wicked rest was difficult like that sometimes, everyone carried so much baggage that having a simple conversation felt impossible. She kept her eyes ahead, not really looking anymore, too aware of her own body as she waited for an answer to come. And when it did, it was good enough for Nicole to move on. He didn’t provide further comment, which seemed like a sign to drop it. Maybe she’d ask about Mexico some other time. She huffed out a laugh, shaking her head at his quip. “Giving them middle names and shit” she mumbled to herself, the corners of her mouth curving into the faintest smile. 

She raised a shoulder, “eh, kind of a boring place, at least where I lived. You’re not missing much” Nicole imagined things would’ve been different in a big city as opposed to Eastford, but if she really stopped to think about it, no one ever mentioned Connecticut, did they? “It gets cold, yeah” she grinned, now turning her full attention toward him, a glimmer of amusement reached her eyes. “Oh, you’re not gonna like it. Layers… lots of layers” she squinted at him, “I think you’re in the wrong coast, if you want warm weather” the question was on the tip of her tongue. It was a classic, anytime she met someone new. Why Wicked’s rest, then? No one came here for pleasure. But she chose to take a roundabout. “Maybe once you’re done…doing whatever it is you’re doing here you should look into it”.  

She kept her smile in place, his question poking the dormant beast that were her memories. “Yeah… lots of Spanish at home. My grandparents, actually. They didn’t speak any English. Had to communicate somehow”. She had taken it for granted as a kid, but realizing not everyone grew up learning their native tongue made her grateful her family had tried to keep it alive. “I think…” she tilted her head, waiting for the thought to fully form in her head before blurting out nonsense. “Sometimes, English feels safer. Um. Like… it has no heart” it was a lot easier to communicate feelings that way, Nicole thought. “But also, it makes no fucking sense as a language, does it? Did you have a hard time?”

There were obvious differences in culture between the two of them, of course; even beyond her being born in America while he was born in Mexico, Emilio knew that their upbringings likely looked nothing alike. No one raised children the way hunters raised children, and few hunters raised children the way Elena Cortez had. Still, there were things to bond over. Still, there were people to mock. Emilio grinned, shaking his head. “Ay, why do they love to put different letters in their names? Things that don’t fit at all. They put a ‘y’ instead of an ‘e’ sometimes. Do you know that?” She probably did.

He hummed, wondering just how ‘boring’ a place could be. As a slayer, he tended to make his own excitement. Most places had an undead underbelly, even if the biggest portion of the population knew nothing of it. But few places were as active as Wicked’s Rest had proven itself to be. In a town full of the undead, Emilio got to stay busy. He liked it that way. The less time he had to think, the less he could drive himself mad with it. Connecticut probably wouldn’t have suited him. “Probably need to buy more jackets,” he acknowledged. “One of those big poofy ones. You think I could pull it off?” It was easier talking to her than he thought it’d be. Normally, Emilio required a lot more time before he’d allow himself to fall into this kind of quiet humor. But there was something familiar about Nicole, something that left him feeling a little more at home. A bit of shared culture, even if it was small, went a very long way. 

But then she spoke of where he might go when he was finished, and the humor faded. There was only one kind of ‘finished’ for him, and it wouldn’t see him packing up to move to the east coast. But that wasn’t the sort of thing you said to a near stranger, so Emilio only shrugged. “Yeah,” he agreed, maybe.” Luckily, things didn’t stay heavy for long. He listened to her speak of her grandparents, nodding his head. Maybe she had a point, about English feeling safer. In Spanish, Emilio felt he was more himself. He understood better, he communicated better. And that was a double-edged sword, sometimes. It felt so intimate, speaking the language he’d grown up with. Like he was showing the world a part of himself that he wasn’t sure he wanted them to see, like he was exposing a raw nerve to the air and begging someone to touch it. He didn’t always like it. “Oh, it does make no sense. I still have a hard time. People say things, sometimes, and it sounds like galimatías. Like words with no meaning. Don’t you think so?”

Nicole’s gaze darted skyward, contemplating Emilio’s point. No, really, why did they do that? Was that their way of pretending they had more culture than they did? Were they just…trying to be— whimsical? “They're a strange group of people…I’ve no clue” she frowned, offering a one shoulder shrug. The question stayed with her for a little longer than it should have. Until the conversation moved to fashion, and it elicited a chuckle out of her. She wasn’t the right person to weigh in on the matter.  

She half-turned toward him, seizing him up. Men's faces tended to blur for her anytime she stared at them too long. But she supposed Emilio was okay looking. A good jaw, symmetrical. Decent height. On the handsome side, if Nicole ignored the scent of alcohol imbued in him. But this was just playful banter. He wasn’t actually in need of fashion advice. “Hm, maybe. It’d look cozy on you. Might lose the tough guy cred, though…you okay with that?” granted, him having a dog who looked like that already took several points from him, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. 

She looked away, unconcerned that he didn’t take the poorly set bait. It had been vague enough to give him wiggle room. Nicole hummed, a smile spreading across her face as she heard him speak with his Spanish accent. She hadn’t heard anyone say galimatías since her grandpa. She didn’t know people used that term nowadays. “I guess… it’s different when you grew up with both mixed up. You know what never made sense to me, though? Sayings. That shit— it always makes less sense in English” she let out a huff, getting stupidly riled up as she recalled that damn counting chickens before the hatch thing. “Pisses me off”. Though maybe, that was her just being slow.

Nicole mused on all the ways the English language was flawed (don’t get her started on the phonetics), that she didn’t pick up the barking at first. The animals must’ve sensed something, but even as she scanned their surroundings,she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She smacked Emilio in the arm, though the action wasn’t needed. He had also noticed the way the animals were acting up. 

“Me either.” Of course, Emilio didn’t tend to understand anyone. When you were raised the way he’d been raised, everyone else seemed strange in comparison. They got worked up over silly things that didn’t matter, they overlooked big things that did. None of it made any sense, and it was so difficult to wrap his head around it all. Sometimes, he didn’t realize that something that had been normal growing up for him was horrifying to strangers until he mentioned it in casual conversation. Always made things awkward.

But things weren’t awkward with Nicole. Not yet, not until he inevitably ruined it sometime in the future. He raised a brow at her comment, huffing a quiet laugh. “I think I’ll survive without it,” he confirmed. It was better, he thought, if people didn’t think you were tough when they first saw you. It meant they were more likely to hold back, to make a mistake. You could go a long way on someone else’s mistake; Emilio had managed to snatch survival out of impossible situations because of them.

He nodded, thinking of his own upbringing. English hadn’t really come into play until Rhett came around, until he started following a stranger around like a lost dog. The warden used plenty of sayings… but none of them were really Americanized. “Most of them sound stupid,” he agreed. “Pisses me off, too.” Though, really, what didn’t? 

He felt it first. The telltale sense of something undead, close enough to set him off, but far enough that he didn’t think much of it. But then, the barking started. Brow furrowed, he looked over to where Nacho, Perro, and a few other dogs in the park were all gathered around the fence, barking and growling at the vines and the trees on the other side of it. For a moment, Emilio wondered if there was simply an animal or something they’d all spotted… but then the vines themselves moved, and he shot to his feet quickly enough for it to be painful. “We should go grab them,” he said quickly, not sure how to explain his suspicions. 

She had seen this sort of… vine skeleton before. Years ago, hiking. It had been a deer, partly consumed by it, eating away at other living creatures in the vicinity. By then, Nicole had learned not to play the hero if she was alone. She just walked faster, disappeared from its sight. If it had any. Never saw anything like it again. But the memory never left her. The half eaten animals, with vines spreading through their fur, thorns sinking into flesh. Infected. The one slowly appearing through the fence wasn’t a deer. It was smaller. Had maybe been a fox, a dog, or a squirrel. It was hard to tell when all it remained were the vines taking on some sort of skeletal shape. 

It wasn’t pouncing on anyone yet, but Nicole wasn’t sure how long that would last, considering how distressed the dogs around the park were. She didn’t reply, only followed behind Emilio as they rushed to the animals. The few other owners around the park seemed to get a clue slowly, moving to pull their pets to safety. 

“Fire” Nicole urged Emilio as she crouched next to Nacho, hooking his leash and trying to convince him play time was over. “Got a lighter? Matches? That thing should go up in flames, no? It’s all plant”. She stood, stepping back from the creature, pulling Nacho along. The idea of just escaping with their dogs was tempting, leaving the vine creature to go back to the wilderness. But having this type of monster wandering around the area wasn’t safe for other pets, right? It could always creep back to where it came from, wait for a different time and pounce on other people’s pets. Maybe it didn’t know its way back, so it’d always be lurking around. Threatening other animals. They had to get rid of it. Make sure no one got hurt. 

Hedgehound. The word came to him immediately, sticking in his head with a few facts about it. It was like that, sometimes; like his head was a dictionary of undead things and how to kill them, like he was a well of knowledge that only knew how to destroy. In this case, he figured it was a positive. Hedgehounds weren’t the most dangerous undead things out there, but they certainly weren’t safe for animals to be around. They definitely weren’t good to have at a damn dog park.

Nicole seemed quick to agree with his sentiment that they needed to get to the dogs, and Emilio noted the fact that there was no shock there. No disbelief, no panic. Nothing that would exist in someone who didn’t already know that the world was a little bit bigger than what most people thought.

Apparently, she was pretty knowledgeable. Hedgehounds needed fire to be destroyed, and Nicole was asking if he had a match. Emilio took a moment to consider this as he scooped up Perro, gently steering a few of the other dogs away from the beast with his foot. “Lighter,” he confirmed. “Jacket pocket. You want to grab it for me while I get these guys out of trouble?” Perro and Nacho were safe, but Emilio didn’t want any of the other dogs here to fall victim to this thing while their owners were across the park socializing with one another and ignoring the chaos. 

Nicole nodded, though part of her grew wildly uncomfortable. Sure, she could grab the lighter. She could put her hands on another person’s body to retrieve the item that would solve all of their problems. Why would that be an issue? She made sure to touch as little of Emilio as possible before the lighter slipped through her fingers, bouncing on the ground. She picked it up, taking a second to watch Emilio help people with their pets, and then waited for the creature to react. To retreat. But the hedgehound was a slow creature, it didn’t understand that everyone was evacuating the park. It wouldn’t go by itself. So that really meant—

She looked at the lighter in her hands. Right. Emilio agreed, it was better to get rid of the monster than to let it go. Nicole lifted her gaze, scanning the area to assess her surroundings. The fence looked tall and sturdy enough to maybe prevent flames from jumping. To keep the burning contained. But she could never be completely sure. What if the wind changed? The treeline was at a safe distance, the fuel around them not too generous. The perks of coming to a beat up dog park. But— if the hedgehound ran as it caught on fire? 

She wouldn’t normally go into this without more consideration but…fuck— How was this normal anyway? Whatever came at them, they’d have to handle it after. Nicole hated the idea of starting a fire, but she hated the thought of animals being infected by the vines a little more. And maybe her priorities were fucked up, maybe not, but she’d reflect on it when Nacho and the rest of the dogs were no longer under its threat. She patted her clothes searching for a piece of paper. Something small, something easily extinguishable — at least in theory— to create some sort of small torch to throw at it. A receipt from the grocery store would have to do. She stepped closer to the creature, rolling the paper between her fingertips. Once she lit it on fire, she moved quickly, maneuvering close enough to extend her arm and twisting the paper against the side of its head. For a second it looked like it was ineffective, but then steadily, the fire began creeping up the creature.  

She was strangely careful in grabbing the lighter, but Emilio didn’t have time to question it. There were dogs to be saved. He trusted Nicole to do her part as he did his, ushering dogs across the park and towards their unattentive owners. Nicole knew enough to know how to kill a hedgehound, and that meant Emilio trusted her a little bit more than he had before, meant he figured she could handle herself long enough for him to get the dogs to safety.

Except… she was hesitating. She was looking uncertain, she was pausing. Emilio turned, ready to race back towards her and yank the lighter from her hand, ready to do it himself. He shouldn’t have worried. Nicole was on it. A second after that uncertain concern gripped him, she was searching for something to spark the flame, and then she was doing it. Lighting the paper on fire, then the hedgehound. The dogs, seeing the fire and feeling that instinctive fear that told them such things were dangerous, turned tail and ran, leaving only Nacho and Perro to stand behind their owners.

The hedgehound went up, flames dancing over every inch of it by the time Emilio made his way back to Nicole. He watched the fire with a faint fascination, the light reflected in his eyes. “Good,” he breathed. “Good move. Uh, should… burn itself out in a few minutes.” 

Fire was captivating. Nicole didn’t reject the warmth spreading beneath her sternum, watching the familiar sight before her. Despite being a firefighter —or maybe because of it— she understood why someone might be drawn to the beauty of it. From the casual bonfire, to the blazing inferno she dealt with every summer, to this, weak flames licking at the vines, leaving no trace of the life it took. As beautiful as it was unsettling. She threw what remained of the receipt on the ground, putting it out with the heel of her boot. Slowly she circled around the monster, attempting to kick away anything that could ignite. She would’ve tried drawing a fireline, but to their relief, it looked to be completely under control. Contained, provided the wind didn’t decide to make their evening any shittier. 

Nicole wasn’t sure if the creature was in any pain, which was the worst part of this. It didn’t look like it. It just stood there, didn’t protest, didn’t have a mouth to cry, didn’t fight or roll on the ground to try putting out the flames. It just let it happen. She turned around, checking how Emilio was faring with his own task. The park was nearly empty now, except for him, Perro and Nacho behind him. She nodded at him, gratitude in her eyes as she watched him approach. “So you know— knew… whatever this thing is?” She supposed there was a deeper implication in her words. Did he know the town wasn’t normal, then? It wasn’t hard to gather he might be in the known. Small comments in passing here and there. But no concrete evidence. 

Just like he said, it didn’t take long until the creature burned completely, remnants failing to propagate onto the rest of the field. Nicole stomped on the ashes, snuffing out anything that could potentially jump. “So much for a safe park” she scoffed, but the corner of her lips curled up. “Forgot to mention the thing” she waved at the ground. She blew a tense breath, handing back the lighter. “Thank you,” she nodded again, walking away from the ashes and reaching for Nacho, who was already bouncing for her. She kneeled by his side, pulling him into a hug. “Should probably get out of here, in case it— that thing had pals around” she ruffled the top of her dog’s head, an apologetic smile on her lips, “I’m sorry” he was getting extra play time next time. She glanced up at Emilio, slowly rising to her feet. “Wouldn’t hurt to look for a new place either”.

It burned out quickly, and that was a good thing. Emilio had no desire to set the dog park on fire, even if he wanted to make sure the hedgehound didn’t hurt anyone here. It might have been worth setting the park on fire to preserve life, might have been a fair enough trade so long as no one got hurt, but it didn’t matter. The fire burned out quickly, and everyone was all right except for the hedgehound. That was the way things were supposed to be.

He shrugged as Nicole questioned him, looking at the dogs so he didn’t have to look at her. You were supposed to keep the supernatural secret. It was part of the hunter code, part of their job. But Nicole already knew, didn’t she? She knew enough to set the thing on fire, knew enough not to panic at the mere sight of it. Why bother keeping a secret from someone who obviously knew it already? “Hedgehound,” he replied. “Undead thing.” He figured that was enough of an explanation. If he knew the name of it, she’d know he knew more than that. And that was fine. It was okay for her to know. 

The thing collapsed into dust, the way undead things had a tendency to do. Emilio watched her stomp out any sparks, snorted at her words. “Eh. Probably safe as far as this town goes.” Nowhere in Wicked’s Rest was really safe. The number of missing persons cases that made their way onto his desk was proof enough of that. “No problem,” he replied, shrugging. “Wasn’t gonna let anybody get hurt.” And that included the dogs. He saw how much she clearly cared about Nacho, knew how much he cared about Perro and figured it was the same. Kneeling with some difficulty, he clipped Perro’s leash to his harness. “Yeah,” he agreed, “don’t want to be around if the police show up, either. Sure one of those gringos called.” They couldn’t keep an eye on their own dogs, but they’d surely alert the authorities at the first sign of trouble. Emilio rolled his eyes at the thought of it. “Right. We can do an internet search. ‘Dog park - no undead things.’ We’ll find one.”

[funkii-fox]

I think proshippers should reclaim “proshit”. I am a proshitter AND IM PROUD!!!!! Proshitters PLEASE interact ‼️‼️

[pup-pee]

jesus ive been reading this comic 4 like 5 yrs

heres some emilio doodles bc bc idk

emi; “oh tobias! u dont have 2 b flawless 2 b perfect!”

yes im thinking about that 1 panel where tobi was just like “THATS A LIE”

[k4zp3rluvr]

STAMPS DE PERFECTOS DESCONOCIDOS!

originalmente esto solo lo iba a compartir a la gente de spacehey pero aprovecho de que finalmente he vuelto a usar tumblr los subire para que mas personas los usen :]

[calcetin-sin-rombosman]

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