Chapter Text
You run from the roof, leaving behind the twisted abominations that used to be the astronomers.
The ritual was a complete fiasco. It went so very wrong. Was that your fault?
You got at least SOME of it right…
This... might be your fault. Your heart pounds in your throat. Where did it go wrong, the manuscript? The photo? You thought they were right and now the astronomers are either dead or mad.
You stagger back to your apartment. You need… Something, anything to take your mind off this.
Your friends look horrified.
Ah. You're covered in blood. Right. Yeah.
You rush to the bathroom to wash your face. You’ll take a shower after your head stops throbbing. You're seeing double. You feel cold. Your heart races. Intense nausea. Is this a heart attack?
Maybe shock. It must be shock. You're in shock. Of course you are.
Everybody's dead. Everything's gone. It's all over. The ritual thing was a dud. The people who knew the most about this thing are all gone, or have lost their minds.
But at least you're unharmed.
Wait.
... ... ...
...
...or not. That’s too many hands too many too many not yours-
shshshshshit shit shit shit. You realize belatedly you said that out loud.
nononononono no
Calm down. This is... you are fine. You're okay. You're NOT losing your mind. You're okay. You’re still sane, you have to stay sane.
Of course this would happen. You've been on the ROOF. ON THE ROOF. You even looked UP at the damn thing.
That was SO stupid.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!! WHY did you DO that?!
As if reacting to your thoughts, a pair of your new arms grow claws, mutating even faster. Fuck.
Okay. Chill. This isn't so bad. You can work with this. It's, uh...
OOoooh it's bad. Oooh no, it's getting worse. Oooooh no.
Keep it together keep it together KEEP IT TOGETHER!
Is it... getting worse when you lose your cool? Whatever you do. Don't lose your cool. Stay calm.
AAAAAARGH CLOSE. your. eyes.
As-as long as you can calm down, you can stop this. Deep breath.
Count to ten. One. Two. Three.
DON'T open your eyes. Don't LOOK. Just COUNT. You can DO this.
Ffffffffour. Ffffive. ssSSssssix.
Yes, it's getting MUCH worse. Don't THINK about it.
sevVVven.
The changes are slowing down. You can tell. This is working. You REALLY want to peek. but DON'T do it.
eight.
nnnine.
t-
A horrific abomination enters your all too massive field of view.
NOOOO CLOSE YOUR EYES CLOSE YOUR EYES CLOSE YOUR EYES CLOSE YOUR EYES
A scream erupts from too many places at once. It sounds like a dozen people being murdered all at once. With YOUR voice. From a billion new points of view you watch the mirror shatter into pieces. But that doesn’t fix anything. You can still SEE.
Without consciously registering it, shards of glass are held in your hands, suspended close to several eyes. It’d be quick. You need to STOP LOOKING. You can’t look at this THING you turned into.
“SAM!” A voice cries, something slams into the door. The door which a portion of your grotesquely elongated torso is blocking. It hurts, but they can’t see you like this.
You realize you’ve been babbling the whole time, stops and nos and please gods. You wrench back a sob. It’ll be over soon, you just have to slice out these disgusting growths.
You blink back tears. The action taking a few seconds longer than it should, not every eye responding at once. God what are you DOING?
You’re reminded of the first day of this stupid apocalypse. The day you watched your neighbor stab a hole in his gut. And now you’re about to do something just like that.
No, not just like that, you’re removing the mutations, not your own flesh.
But they are your own flesh, you can see yourself, there’s nothing left of you anymore. You drop the shards on the floor.
You curl up into a ball, you’re a mess. You hate this. You should never have helped those cultists.
The doorknob jiggles. Yeah, your body isn’t blocking it anymore. You probably could keep it closed but right now, you’re too tired. You just want this to be over.
The floor is covered in glass and tears. Papineau steps in with his mop bared, a stoic expression on his face. Resolute, as always. Even with every detail on his face highlighted in your vision you still can’t tell what’s going on beneath. Fear? Pity? Hate?
“Deputy.” A statement, not a question, “What a mess…” He sighs.
You don’t breathe. Your eyes stay trained on him. On his reaction. And on the door. You pray the kids don’t try to peek inside.
Even though you’re curled up into as small a ball as you can manage, several eyes still meet his own eye level. How big even are you? You can’t tell.
“I know my fellow custodial defender wouldn’t cause this in a clear state of mind. Even if I didn’t hear your screams… You’re still in there, right, deputy?” Papineau seems to struggle with which eye to make contact with, something that’d be funny if it wasn’t you.
You blink twice, hoping that’s enough. You have no idea how you’d nod right now, curled up in a ball or not.
“Good. Then we have work to do. The others are worried, reassure them of your health. I will take care of the battle in here.” Papineau crouches down, pulling out a dustpan.
“No!” You shout, several mouths reacting to the impulse. A few arms slap over the offending orifices, keep your cool Sam.
“I can’t leave.” “They can’t see me.” “I’m a mess.” “I have to stay in here.” “Don’t make me…” You babble, trying to explain yourself. But rather than a reasonable argument, all that comes out is complete indecipherable nonsense. You hate this. You wish he’d stop staring.
“Leave me alone…” You whimper, closing your eyes to sob. You’re covered in salty tears, so many of your eyes stinging from the strain.
“It seems the situation is worse than I thought…” He brushes his beard with a hand, contemplatively. No shit Papineau.
“I will be back, Deputy. Stay here.” Where would you even go? You have no idea how to walk in this new body. Like you’d even want to leave at all.
Outside, you hear him talking to your friends.
“Leave him be, he has suffered a great loss. He’ll need time to himself.” Papineau’s tone is solemn, you feel bad for snapping at him. Why did you do that?
“Yeah, but is he y’know, crazy?” Xaria asks. No, you narrowly avoided it. But the way you’re feeling, it won’t take much for that to change. You’re barely holding on.
“Well Papi’s alive isn’t he? Huh huh.” Monty chuckles.
“Maybe Sam stole his skin.” Leigh chimes in, with her own little deranged giggles. God, you don’t even want to think about that. What if you did? What if you’re like Rafta and you just don’t realize you’ve gone crazy? Please don’t be like Rafta.
A moment of silence, “Reggie -hhh- says he smells normal…” Joel gurgles. You're struck with gratitude, thank goodness for Reggie. To say the little rat child has kept you going would be an understatement, you don’t know how long you would have lasted without it.
“Thank you, Joel, Reginald. I hate to think of what would happen to the good battle had I been lost. But you had no reason to worry on my behalf. My deputy is a man of honor, to say he would hurt, no… Replace me is unthinkable.” You’re grateful for the defense, but hope he’s exaggerating. He should worry about you, he should be cautious. You’re a complete wild card right now, who knows if or when you’ll snap?
“Can… -hhh- we go see him, Mr. Papineau?” Joel mumbles, and you strain to hear him. God, you feel your heart, or what’s left of it, breaking from the tone of his voice. He sounds so scared. You did this.
“I… Will ask. But he’s not doing well. The change has taken it’s toll on him greatly. Are you sure?
“Mhm… Wait!” You hear footsteps, Joel runs away and back. “Um… Even if he -hhh- says no, can you give him this? So he doesn’t feel alone?” You manage to keep the sob down this time. Such a sweet kid, you’re so lucky he’s with you.
The door opens again, to Papineau holding one of Joel’s stuffed animals. Not Fuzzy, but the first one you gave him, bought from Eugene’s.
“You heard them. Well, Deputy?” You rub a few of your eyes, and step back, closer to the wall. Leaving the entire puddle you made exposed. God, it was big. Shame overtakes you, you’re too old to cry like that. At least it’ll be gone before the kids come in.
“Yeah, yeah… Just… Clean up first.” “I’m sorry for shouting.” Papineau nods, and begins cleaning up, but not before handing you the toy. As much as your manliness protests, you take it, not wanting to upset Joel when he comes in. Stashing it in the, uh, coils of your body, it actually does comfort you a bit.
You watch Papineau wipe his brow, as if he cleaned an entire room instead of just one little puddle and pile of glass.
“Come in, children.” Papineau calls, standing up. He walks to the corner, away from the scene, but still watching. You’re glad you didn’t have to ask.
Joel waddles in, Reggie in arms. Before anyone can react Reggie leaps towards you. You yelp in the most embarrassing way possible.
It scuttles over every inch of you, including eyelids, which causes you to recoil every time. Sniffing you, staring at each new feature that makes your stomach churn to think of. Satisfied, it stops, and hugs you. You sigh multiple times at once.
“Mr. Dad!” It squeaks, and you smile. At least it’s not scared of you. Reggie just crawls into your coils, right next to the stuffed animal Joel gave you. You turn your gaze to the other child in the room.
Unlike Papineau, looking at just how tiny Joel is tells you how big you’ve gotten. Before, he was just a few inches shorter than you, but he looks tiny from your highest eyes. Was that how everyone else saw you? Jeez.
“You… -hhh- have a lot of mouths… Like Ms. Leigh…”
“Yeah…” It’s weird, you don’t even try to use the other mouths when talking, but unless you concentrate on one in particular, whichever one talks is random.
“And a lot of teeth -hhh- like me…” You decide not to bring up the fact that Leigh also had a lot of teeth.
“Guess we’re both a little weird now, huh?”
“Yeah… You look cooler though. A giant monster! But not as scary as the other ones. You look like -hhh- a nice monster!” Really, you look just as disgusting and dangerous as any other cursed. But, if Joel thinks you look nice, who are you to tell him otherwise?
“Thank you, oh, and thank you for the plushie too, it really made me feel better.” You give him a reassuring smile, at least you hope it looks reassuring, right now your vision isn’t facing your, er, face.
“Oh! Audrey told me to give you this!” Joel walks over towards you, pulling out two cans from his pockets. One, a can of Orange soda, and the other one of her “advice” cans.
You grab the two, looking at the message on the advice can.
‘Hey Sam, I hope you’re alright. You sounded pretty freaked out there. It’ll be okay, your friends are here for you.’ A little smiley is depicted next to the message, but instead of her normal emoji-like drawing, it’s a miniature Audrey. You guess she wanted to remind you you’re not alone in this, it’s sweet.
You don’t know what to do with the soda. It’s thoughtful but the idea of putting anything in your mouth just makes you feel sick right now. You just set it on the sink counter.
“Thanks Joel. And tell Audrey thank you too. I don’t know how long I’ll take to come out of here… Today’s been… Stressful.” You’re feeling a lot better, but that’s mostly because you’re keeping as many eyes as possible facing away from your body.
Joel nods, “It’s okay, everyone needs a little -hhh- alone time sometimes, that’s what Dad says.” Your heart sinks a little at the mention of his father.
“Yeah, just a bit of alone time.” You sigh, “I’ll be better soon, this is just a lot to get used to.”
“Um…” Joel turns to the door, then turns back, running up to you. You stumble a bit, startled. Joel, arms wide, gives you a big hug. You’re reminded of the hug you gave him, what feels like forever ago, and the hug you gave Jeanne. This time though, Joel doesn’t bite, far more mindful of his teeth than when he first transformed.
You’re so proud of him. Isn’t that funny? You’ve only known him for a few days.
Your vision fogs up with tears, but you manage to blink them back before you get soaked again. It wouldn’t be right to cry in front of your charges anyway.
Joel skips back to the door, and gives you a little wave, “Bye Mr. Sam!”
You wave back, and he leaves the bathroom. Papineau follows, but stops before heading out.
“We’re here for you, deputy. Come out when you’re ready.” He walks out, shutting the door this time, leaving you and Reggie alone in the bathroom. You feel a familiar tingling feeling. Well, except for Spine.
You collapse to the floor, mindful not to squish Reggie under your newfound bulk. Fuck, you’re nowhere near ready to leave. If only you transformed in your room, Xaria and Monty would be fine in the living room. But, no, you’re stuck in your bathroom.
The tile floor feels strangely nice at least, at least you know it’s clean from Papineau. Makes the fact that you’re basically kissing it with a few of your lower oriented mouths a bit less gross. A bit.
You grab the soda can from the counter, offering it to Reggie, who takes it with a worried squeak. You give him a pat on the head.
God, you’re tired, so tired that the floor almost feels comfortable. You yawn, the sound droning from multiple mouths. Fuck it, you’re probably going to have nightmares, but you’re exhausted. Maybe you’ll feel better after a nap.
You curl up, pretty close to how Reggie does actually, you guess he rubbed off on you a bit. Reggie climbs in the center of… Your mass, following your example. You smile, the scene is oddly cute, and lay down next to him like a fleshy cinnamon roll. That sounds gross, but you don’t really care anymore.
You drift off to sleep almost immediately after, and you welcome the respite.