Chapter Text
The trot back calmed Sam’s nerves, he felt steady enough to hold a conversation without drawing unnecessary concern. It was quiet right outside his apartment door. His roommates must’ve finished lunch and were taking a midday nap. A chance for shuteye was certainly tempting. He let out a gentle cough and rattled his keys. Making it abundantly clear who was entering the premises, i.e. not some brazen intruder. The moment he crossed the threshold, Sophie and Joel flew off the couch and grappled his legs. An onslaught of questions followed.
“What’d cha buy!? What’d cha buy!? Did they have candy???”
“What about that new slingshot??? It’s SO cool!”
“W-what about HHHHHHHHHft— more toof-paste?”
Joel bared his teeth proudly, they were plentiful and immaculate, he must’ve spent a lot of time brushing them. Sophie too, with her mischievous grin. Sam was really proud of them both, until a new thought kicked in.
Oh.my.god. Is this why I have to open a new tube of toothpaste every morning? What’s even the point of using it all? He’s just gonna spit em out later and-
Sigh.
No way Sam was about to chastise a child for actually brushing his teeth. He kneeled down to address them both.
“No. I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to buy anything, including the tooth paste. I’ll be sure to pick some up next time, okay?”
“Aw…okay.” Joel lamented.
Sophie butted back in, “Why not? Did you get lost? Did a monster scare you? Did it steal your money?”
Sheesh, kiddo. Have a little more faith in me.
“Nope. Eugene’s shop was closed today. He uh, hasn’t been feeling too good.”
Sophie’s eyes grew wide. “No way! Is it bad? Is he dying? Can I have all his stuff if he dies?”
That last question hit him like a truck. Sophie’s unintentional cruelty may soon become reality, if Sam could find no other solution to that man’s current…affliction.
“Hey. Don’t say things like that. Besides, it’s not that serious.”
Oh, yes it was.
“He just needs a little peace and quiet, so don’t go bothering him. Got it? I might run him some chicken noodle soup later today. He should be feeling better in no time.”
Sam felt slimy, telling the kids such an egregious lie. They believed it too. With no other exciting developments, the children quickly moved back to their comic books. Sam, however, was stuck firmly in place. Yeah, Eugene needed peace and quiet alright. That was the entire fucking problem. Nestor and Rafta made that man’s life a living hell. Emphasis on living. Sam kicked himself for being too much of a gutless coward to end Eugene. It was entirely his fault too. All that unnecessary suffering, simply because Sam thought it would be cute to play matchmaker for his two new buddies. Good intentions and all that. The mix of shame and anger made him sick to his stomach.
You know what? Good.
He deserved to feel physically ill; it was a small penance for the pain he caused. Ruminations of self-pity and loathing continued. Sam was more than ready to expel all the anxiety and discontent that was bubbling up inside. Wanted it to burn his throat on the way up too.
“Go vomit in toilet, not on the carpet. And, definitely not in the sink.”
A husky voice snapped him back to reality. Sam looked up to his newest companion, Papineau, the err…janitor? His list of titles was long considering the lack of functioning staff.
“Should you barf in the sink, you’ll be the one learning how to clean the P-trap.”
“Pfft. Pee trap?” Joel giggled.
“Ew! Why is there pee getting trapped in the sink?” Sophie asked sarcastically.
“Jo-el, you’re not supposed to pee in the sink!” She teased.
Rat baby echoed, “Ew. Pee pee.”
“I’m not!!!” Joel cried at the accusation.
“Pee pee.”
“S-TOOOP!”
Sam was ready to step in when Papineau place a firm hand on his shoulder, quietly stating: I got this. The janitor nudged him towards the bathroom door, before returning to the kids.
“Keep it up and all three of you are going to get a comprehensive lesson in plumbing.”
Was that a threat?
It managed to shut the kids up, except rat baby who was genuinely enthused about any sort of learning. Sam gently closed the bathroom door, locking it. The way that door sealed made the entire room feel like it was caught in a vacuum. Perfectly cool and quiet, the only sound came from a small fan circulating in the vents. Just enough white noise to offer some privacy. He stood over the toilet, hoping the urge to hurl would overtake him. But, the sensation had mostly passed.
Ugh.
He desperately wanted to purge all of his physical discomfort and anxiety; as if to reset all his bodily functions. He was instead left with uncomfortable nausea and malaise. In no rush to return the others, he threw off his sweater and undershirt, laid down, and embraced the cold tile. It soothed his aching head and queasy stomach. The floor momentarily shifted, a by-product of dizziness or? Nope, don’t care. Eyes closed, he pressed his face into the floor. Ready to forget the world. A tingle down his spine refused him such serenity. It needed him to know he wasn’t truly alone.
“Go away.”
A light thunk on the ground tickled his right ear. He turned his head begrudgingly. A small can of ginger ale rested on the floor. He looked up to see a shadowy figure slither towards the exit.
Sigh. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. You can stay.”
It stopped mid-motion, turning to face Sam, staring expectantly. He sat up, propped against the shower, and began sipping the soft beverage. The carbonation and ginger did wonders for his nausea. The masked creature shuffled over a little, in an attempt to re-engage. Something it seemed to be improving on, that perfect amount of distance between two people without being too intrusive.
Sam let out a couple small burps, each one steadily improving his queasiness. The Masked Shadow looked perturbed. Like he had grown a second pair of eyes. Shit. Maybe he did. Sam looked down, bracing for a potential new reality. No flesh out of the ordinary, just bare chest and belly. Sam savored the rest of the drink and threw the can in the trash. He let out one final belch, happily cured of his ailment. The Shadow scrunched back into itself, fabric folding along the underside of the mask like a multitude of chins. The look of someone who was still very concerned (and a tad judgmental).
“What? You’ve never heard a person burp before? It’s fairly normal I assure you.” Sam teased.
The thought lingered. How normal his own bodily functions were. How comfortably he could laugh at his own quirks, knowing that it made him perfectly human. That creature, however, seemed so unfamiliar with it all.
Was it ever human? Has it been so fundamentally changed that it’s not even worth comparing at this point?
Sam felt even more guilty for the ways he had judged the other cursed residents and their transformations. Maybe he really lacked sympathy for their situation. He’d have to be more mindful of that in his future encounters. With his ailment gone, a pleasant weariness crept in. Sam stretched his arm up, then stood, fearing he’d collapse on the floor if he didn’t bother to move now.
“Thanks for the soda. That was really kind of you. We can talk after I get out of the shower, deal?”
The Mask nodded amicably. Sam scoured the cabinets for fresh towels and soap. Just as everything was put neatly into place he caught a glimpse of the Shadow, still fixed in place. It hadn’t left yet? Maybe Sam phrased something wrong.
“…Um. I was gonna take a shower, soo could you…”
The Masked Shadow closed the distance between them in a single motion.
“Oh, uh???”
He leaned back into the glass door in a sad attempt to create space. He could feel where the warmth of his breath met the creature’s form. Its porcelain mask loomed overhead. Crimson eyes scanned him up and down, before trailing off to the side. A hand floated past him; seemingly more fascinated by the towel folded over the shower door. Delicate hands traced the woven fibers. It began unraveling a thread on a frayed corner.
“Hey, hey! I need that.”
The mask rotated to meet Sam’s face. Judging.
It apparently disagreed as one hand stashed the towel in its robes.
“Excuse you. I-“
The shadow offered up its sleeve, then draped it over the shower door. Sam covered his mouth, suppressing a giggle.
He spoke softly, “That’s awfully kind of you. And, I’m sure your robe is much softer, but I’d prefer to use my towel.”
It leaned over quizzically. As if to say, Are you sure?
Sam hesitated…That old towel was kinda shabby. While the Masked Shadow’s obsidian cloak looked so plush. What was the texture like? How would it feel brushing against his skin? Like crisp bedsheets after a hot shower? He imagined being swaddled within, all snug…With razor teeth gently nuzzling his neck. Wispy hands combing through his wild hair, massaging his shoulders, gently caressing his body, grasping at—
“OKaY. You gotta go. And give me my towel back.”
The creature relented, folding the original towel neatly back into place. It idly waddled over to the door, blissfully unaware of the stiff atmosphere. Sam waved his hand, motioning it to hurry up. Finally, it crumpled into the floor and slid out the door gap.
Now truly alone, Sam discarded his pants.
Cold shower first. Then hot.
The spray of freezing water subdued his appetite. He slowly upped the temperature to scalding hot. That was the first time he thought of the Masked Shadow that way. All other fantasies were of sensory disconnect and embracing the void. Something more akin to falling asleep than sex. He felt guilty for thinking about his friend that way. That creature was wonderfully silly and cute. Potentially violent. Not lustful in any way…
Maybe?
Okay, but maybe it is lonely that exact way too?
His mind latched onto the slightest possibility. He lacked the willpower to switch the faucet back to cold. Instead pressed his back into the shower wall, tracing a hand down his chest. It was safer to entertain the idea here, alone, than to be bothered by such urges later on.
Sam emerged from the bathroom with a fresh outfit and fresh outlook. All of that anxiety had washed down the drain, leaving him feeling relaxed. A nap sounded even better than before. He glanced over the kitchen. Papineau was kneeling on the tile, tools in hand, working under the sink. Sophie sat on the counter, while the other kids sat on the mat.
Huh. He really was giving them a lesson in plumbing.
Rat baby was smacking and twisting pipes together in a crude attempt to make a sword. Sophie had successfully constructed a giant metal slingshot, with a plumbers tape as the band. While Joel remained perfectly still, engrossed for the entire lecture. Sam mimed a quiet thank you when the two men made eye contact. Seeing the kids were still preoccupied, Sam made his way to the couch. Plopping down with a pillow in hand, he got comfortable.
A nap would fix everything.
I feel elongated and compressed in ways I cannot fully express.
Did I already tell you how much I miss writing letters? Telling you how I feel. And hearing how you feel. I wish we could go back. Not back to us (as much as I miss those days), but back to being friends. Out of everyone we knew, you were the only one who seemed to care that I was still around. To make sure I stuck around.
Are you happy right now? Alive? Scared? Alone? Suffering? Suffering…
Please, god no more suffering. I’ve had enough. We’ve all been through enough.
Just let me go. I don’t think I can survive the flames much longer.