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Language:
English
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Published:
2025-08-26
Updated:
2025-10-25
Words:
1,492
Chapters:
2/3
Comments:
16
Kudos:
19
Hits:
182

Every word you left behind

Summary:

Their song is cut off by Dr. Death’s familiar voice.
“Bad news from the zones, tumbleweeds. It looks like Jet-Star and the Kobra Kid had a clap with an Exterminator that went all Costa Rica and uh. Got themselves ghosted, dusted out on Route Guano.”

The rest of the broadcast is drowned out by the guttural sob that escapes Party’s mouth.

OR

Party and Ghoul are at the Diner with The Girl while Kobra and Jet go to get supplies when everything goes terribly wrong.

Notes:

My first official Fic!! whoooo
my writing style is a little...funky??
i dont even know what POV I wrote this in and it might switch, very sorry
i was simply trying to get the idea i had on to paper as quickly as possible so sorry if it's ass !!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Oh, let me tell you 'bout the sad man

Chapter Text

“You’re so bad at this!” Fun Ghoul exclaims, as Party Poison steps on his foot for the third time in five minutes.
Party lets out an exaggerated gasp, “How could you! I’m an amazing dancer!”
Fun rolls his eyes, “Maybe on stage when you flounce around, not when you’re dancing to Queen.”

Poison steps back with their mouth hanging open in mock offence.
“You know what, I don’ have to deal with this!” Party walks over to the radio and flips to Dr. Death’s channel

Shut up and let me see your jazz hands
Remember when you were a madman
Thought you was Batman

Party turns back to Ghoul with a look of utter glee on their face, a grin splitting their tan face.
Fun lets out a groan, feigning annoyance that Poison got their way.
“Oh, c’mon, you know you wanna,” Poison says cockily while replicating the shenanigans they do on stage.

Huffing, Ghouls pretends to play his guitar part in the song. It’s like second nature to him at this point. The idea to start a band was originally pitched by Poison, because of course.
Everyone was pretty excited about the prospect, and they immediately went looking for any instruments and tools they could find.

“Thas the spirit!” Poison is having the time of their life, dancing (more like strutting dramatically) back and forth across the living room. They found a mic lying around and are screaming their lungs out with their voice coming from the radio.

Occasionally, Party would circle Fun and get in his face as they played their respective parts of the song, flirting violently the whole way like they do on stage. That was also second nature, being with Party. At first, they were awkward, not sure what to do with their feelings after hiding them for years.
It wasn't till Ghoul admitted they were pastel for Poison that everything seemed to fall into place.

And right here
Right now
All the way in Battery City
The little children
Raise their open, filthy palms
Like tiny daggers up to heaven
And all the-

Their song is cut off by Dr. Death’s familiar voice.
“Bad news from the zones, tumbleweeds. It looks like Jet-Star and the Kobra Kid had a clap with an Exterminator that went all Costa Rica and uh. Got themselves ghosted, dusted out on Route Guano.”

The rest of the broadcast is drowned out by the guttural sob that escapes Party’s mouth. Their eyes are unfocused, staring into nothing as if the faded concrete floor will whisper that it’s all a lie. They aren't truly gone.
Party still isn’t quite sure they heard that right. Because it couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t
Jet, with their comforting presence and deadpan observations. And Kobra, his perfect equal, with his sharp tongue and quiet demeanour.

Kobra?
Jet..?
Ghosted?
It couldn’t be true.
It was a lie.
They couldn’t be gone.
They were going to walk through the door any second, their raid a success.

More sobs and screams escaped Poison’s soul. They sink to their knees on the carpet, Fun’s arms winding around them, his tears mixing with theirs on their lap.
Fun still hasn’t quite processed what has happened.
Jet and Kobra always seemed so untouchable; they all did, and now they were gone.
Now it was just him, Party and Girlie.
As if on cue, Ghoul’s thoughts are cut off by a soft voice from the doorway,

“Fun? Party? What’s going on?”
Looking up, Fun sees Motorbaby in the entrance to the room, her eyes wide with concern, looking lost.

Fun doesn’t want to leave Poison. Not in their current state, curled over their knees, their hands vicelike around his arms. But he needs to get The Girl away so she doesn’t get more panicked and concerned.
Slowly extracting himself from Party is like physically ripping out a piece of his soul, and Poison seems to feel it as well, holding onto any bit of flesh with more conviction. As soon as Ghoul begins to attempt to stand, they claw at his arms and sob harder.
I’m sorry, my love…

Walking towards the doorway on shaky legs, he puts his arms around her shoulders and guides her from the room.
“What’s going on? Why is Party crying?”
Her eyes get impossibly wider as she stares up at Fun in confusion.

Fun is lost. What did he do? How does he explain what happened? He hasn’t even given himself enough time to truly believe it; he can’t bring himself to speak it out loud.
I can’t comfort two people who just lost their family.

“Uhm, Party is just kind of sad right now.” Wow, great save! “Why don’t you go practice your shootin’?”
The Girl positively lights up, all worry dropping from her face to make way for a massive grin. “Okay! Don’t worry, I’ll be safe!!” she yells over her shoulder as she scurries in the direction of the “back yard” (it’s really just the old patio from before The Wars), her curls flying behind her like a ghost.

Ghoul felt awful, lying to her like that, but he couldn’t console both of them right now.
Turning back towards the faint cries coming from the living room of the diner, he steels himself to deal with Party.
Party has collapsed in on themselves further without Ghoul to hold them up; they’ve made themselves as small as possible, the only movement being their hands, which are grasping at anything they can and the occasional hiccups and sobs that rack their body.

Two steps are all it takes for Ghoul to reach them, dropping to their knees beside them. Party immediately latches onto all bits of Ghoul they can find.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Fun wraps his arms around Party again. They collapse into him, going boneless.
“Kobra…”
“I know. I know…”
He doesn’t know what else to say, doesn’t know if there was anything else to say. Anything else to do other than hold his lover and cry with them.

Chapter 2: You are never coming home, never coming home

Summary:

Fun Ghoul goes to find The Girl and breaks the news to her

Notes:

its kinda short and that's my bad, im really bad at filler this fic was also originally meant to be a oneshot so
dont worry, the baby's get the comfort they deserve in the next chapter(s) (maybe more than 3 chapters?? gasp??)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hours have passed. Party Poison has only gotten worse. Their shirt is completely soaked with tears and snot (they briefly surfaced from crying to remark that their shirt was positively ruined before their laughter turned to more tears)
Fun Ghoul eventually convinced (carried) Party to their bedroom when his legs began to cramp on the floor. That was where they were now, Poison having drifted off a few minutes ago.

Ghoul’s fingers tangle with Poison’s faded red hair. They were planning on redyeing it today. Ghoul thinks sadly to himself, before everything went to shit.

Ghoul had only just let himself think about what this would mean.
What it would mean for Motorbaby. For their makeshift family that had fallen apart in a matter of seconds, fallen apart from a few simple words.
Two shapes now missing from his heart, ripped away with no ceremony.

Ghoul sighs; he still needs to tell Girlie. She deserves to know.
Extracting himself from Party for the second time that day was no easier than the first time, but it still had to be done.

Standing up, Ghoul gazes at Party’s face. On the surface, their expression is more peaceful, but it’s interrupted by tear tracks and streaked eyeliner. Looking down at his own shirt, it looks about the same, with splotches of mascara and eyeliner all over.

Sighing again, Ghoul creeps out the door and begins the search for Motorbaby.
The backyard shows evidence that Girlie did practice her shooting, but obviously stopped after a while.

Walking inside again, Ghoul checks the living area of the diner, all the booths devoid of life. Getting slightly more worried, Ghoul frantically opens the bathroom. When that is empty, Ghoul feels lost.
Suddenly, he remembers one of Motorbaby’s favourite places.

Slinking down the hall, Ghoul opens Jet’s door slowly. Sure enough, Motorbaby is sitting in the center of Jet’s bed.
Before Fun can ask what she's doing, he notices how sad she looks.

“...My dad’s not coming back…is he?”
Ghoul inhales sharply, holding it for a few seconds, and then exhales, sitting down.
“I- No. He’s not. I’m really sorry, Baby.” Grace’s eyes begin to sparkle and her lip wavers slightly.
He scoots closer and opens his arms, and suddenly the dam breaks. The girl puddles in his lap, letting her tears finally fall.

Ghoul does his best to comfort her, but he mostly sits there and runs his hands through her hair, whispering sweet nothings all the while.
Finally, Grace sits up, sniffling and furiously wiping her tears.

"What about Uncle Kobra?"
Fun can feel his heart break for what feels like the millionth time that day.
"I'm sorry, Grace."
She jams her hands into her eyes and sits up straighter.
Suddenly, a determined look takes over her small face, "I want to make a-a..." she sniffles again.
"A grave?" Fun asks softly.
"Yes."
“Okay, baby.”

Notes:

i hope this lives up to what you wanted, you litrle freaks :3
next chapter as soon as i can

Notes:

i havent been writing this recently so please harass me in the comments to write another chapter !!

comments and kudos mean the world, please tell me what you thought <33