Work Text:
Swiss couldn’t recollect what exactly happened that day, or even what happened in the days leading up to it. He couldn’t tell you what the building looked like or how he got there; couldn’t tell you what the false worshippers looked like or what he did to them; he couldn’t even tell you how he ended up covered in blood that was anyone’s but his.
All he could remember with reverence was the rage.
It hadn’t even started on that day, though, It had started when Phantom scrambled out of his bunk on the bus near the end of the last tour, screaming so hard you could swear his lungs were being ripped out of his chest. The pain the younger ghoul was in, however, would be proven to be much worse.
Swiss had clambered out of his own bunk and crouched next to his bug, eyes frantically searching for an injury under the grey and purple spotted hand Phantom had clawing at his own chest. There were tears streaming down his face and he flinched at every gentle hand that tried to soothe him. He’d been mumbling through and in between sobs, sobs that wracked his whole body in spasms, and it had taken what felt like hours just to interpret what he was pleading for.
Ara.
Ara. Ara. Ara. Ara. Ara. Over and over again Phantom sobbed the name of the human girl he’d left back at the Ministry, the girl that he’d sworn before the Dark Lord himself was the love of his life. His soulmate. His mate. His everything. He chanted her name through hitched breaths like a prayer, like it was the only thing keeping him sane. Swiss and the others would find out eventually, once they’d coaxed a few more words out of the young ghoul, that it was. Because the only proven thing to break a ghoul to his core was the severance of the bond with his mate. And not only had the bond been cut, but Ara had completely vanished from existence.
Phonecalls were immediately made back to the Ministry, who were little to no help at all until Papa Copia stepped in and made some calls of his own. While all the commotion happened Swiss sat with Phantom and rocked him, letting him soak his pajama shirt in tears as he desperately tried to hold him in one piece. The words ‘she’s gone, she’s gone, she’s gone’ echoing throughout the bus like a knife in the heart.
Ara was a person that all the pack knew well. A new Sister welcomed to the Ministry around the same time Phantom was summoned, which should have been enough foreshadowing in and of itself. Everyone had watched and teased as Phantom developed his little crush like a wildfire, then reassured and consoled him when he thought he’d scared her off. Ghoul and a human, who was he thinking. Could never work. Turns out Ara hadn’t cared in the slightest about his in-human nature, but was only extremely shy in herself. And once that bridge had been jumped over, it was a rare sight to see one without the other. Phantom was either sneaking over to the Human Wing of the Ministry to help with chores that of course needed two pairs of hands, or it was Ara cutely sharing her stash of snacks and DVDs with everyone in the Ghoul Wing as a not-so-subtle excuse to have a movie night. The two of them were adorable together, everyone had thought so.
And then Ara was given an opportunity from another Ministry. She’d volunteered in the library since day one and within months had known it inside and out, being able to tell you where books were without checking once. Ara had a curious mind that loved to learn as much as possible, and that curiosity had gotten her promoted to researcher in the Abbey, which had clearly caught the attention of a brother Ministry looking for more Siblings.
This Ministry was known for its research, for presenting answers to Satanic magic that even the eldest of Ghouls didn’t know. It was rumoured that the Emeritus Abbey had donated bodies to this Ministry for study, but it was only a rumour.
Ara had been requested to transfer the same day that they would all be leaving for tour with Papa Copia; Phantom’s very first tour, and his very first time away from the girl he loved. They’d all allowed the couple to spend all of their time together before everyone headed out, and in those last few days they’d gifted each other stuffies to remember each other by and promise rings, so that no matter how far across the world they went they’d know that they had each other. But as the tour had ended, those two things had been all Phantom had left of her.
The Ministry that Ara went to could not be contacted, and it took half the pack to stop Phantom from marching off to find it on foot in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere. They’d find out what happened, Papa had promised, and they wouldn’t stop until they did.
The last few shows of the tour went by in a blur, with everyone performing off of fumes and pure frustration. They all loved Ara. Without meaning to she’d carved a place out for herself in their pack, and now that it was empty they all felt how big of a hole it was. Everyone was surprised that Phantom could even stand, let alone perform, but Dewdrop kept a particularly close eye on him at all times, always within arms’ reach in case- well, in case of anything. He hadn’t lost Aether completely, but he knew how much distance could eat you from the inside out.
Phantom was the first out of the bus when they finally got home, sprinting his way up the path and through the Abbey doors with Papa and everyone else hot on his heels. Omega had called while they were on the plane, with news that had stomach’s twisting and bile threatening to rise. The rumours of bodies being sent to this mysterious Ministry weren’t the only ones floating around, it turns out.
It’s at this point in the story that Swiss’ memory starts to blur. Words like torture and experimentation swim through the haze like fish, little dots of certainty quickly dashing away back into the realm of dread. Because that’s what Swiss can remember clearly; the dread. The rage. It’s only the feelings he can comprehend, not what became of them when they all lept into action.
He knows that they stormed the Ministry in the dead of night. All of them. Every Ghoul and Sibling that was capable ripping through bolted doors like something wild. He knows that what they found was horrific, something that even Lucifer himself would call disgusting. Ghouls strapped to tables or chained in cells, phials of blood and skin and bone lining shelves, floors splattered with all kinds of gore it was slippery. He knows that they found Ghouls that had once been humans, some catatonic from whatever Hell they’d been put through and others far beyond any semblance of help. He knows that Ara had been found amongst them, thrown in a terrifyingly small handful labelled successful. He knows that Phantom had cried over her barely conscious body, unable to tear his eyes away from her face that had had one eye socket emptied and replaced by fresh, glistening amethyst geodes. He knows he remembered how geodes are made and swallowed his own sick to keep quiet.
Swiss knows that the Siblings of the Ministry tried to run. He knows they all failed. He knows he watched people die and helped slaughter others. He knows he enjoyed it.
But all of that is barely important when he thinks about what he found. Who he found. In the arms of a young Ghoul who was barely standing, on the verge of collapse, was a baby. The tiniest Ghoul Swiss had ever seen, sound asleep and wrapped in a blanket stained with blood. He remembered the Ghoul holding her telling him that the mother; a human woman, another victim of sick experimentation; had died in labour, her body not capable of surviving the creation of the Dark Lord’s children.
He knows he took the baby to allow the older Ghoul rest. He knows he wrapped his arms around the little creature and swayed her from side to side. He knows he took in her dark purple skin and teeny tiny silver horns and ruffled, curly black hair. He knows, in that moment, he swore to protect her for the rest of his life. He knows she became his, and no one even thought of arguing differently.
Every single time without fail, the rage comes back with a bite when Swiss thinks about that day, that damned Ministry that they burned to the ground. He felt it when he found out Terzo Emeritus had been resurrected as a Ghoul, his memory barely there and only recovered with thanks to Omega, whose heartbreak was visible on his face. He felt it when Ara remained in a coma for weeks, Phantom never leaving her side until being carried to bed after he passed out. He felt it when she woke up believing she was still there, and when the pain of having half of her skull carved out hit her and bent her double. He felt it when he saw all of the other victims limp or flinch or throw up or sob. The Ministry was obliterated and it still didn’t feel good enough.
But it did, slowly, start to get better. Ara learned to walk and talk all over again, using her first words to tell Phantom how much she missed and loved him, words that he sobbed back into what was left of her hair as he hugged her. Terzo’s memory came back piece by piece, a feature that he liked to flourish with the element of surprise to get Omega to smile. And then there was the baby.
Swiss had named her Somnus, since sleeping was her favourite thing to do. A tiny, fluffy ball of pure quintessence so strong that her little body could only process it all by napping almost 24/7. The first time she opened her eyes for longer than 3 seconds was weeks after he’d found her, and he was giddy to see that they were orbs of pure stardust.
There was one thing Swiss knew for certain after all of that-
Nothing would ever hurt his little Stardust.
Ever.