Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nothing.

Pico could see nothing. This wasn’t much of a surprise, as he hadn’t been able to see for about a year now. But he was still having trouble adjusting. It was hard. He needed his vision for, you know, seeing.

No brainer.

He had been awoken by his alarm clock, and was swiping the arm closest to the clock around, trying to find the damned thing. He didn’t sleep often, and this was a very rare occasion, after drinking his brains out. It was a surprise he even managed to get home. It was a surprise he even managed to find his way out of...wherever he was. God, his head hurt. He had a massive hangover. Plus with the whole sleep deprivation thing, he wasn’t really thinking straight. He rubbed his eyes. He blinked. He rubbed them again. He blinked harder. He started to wonder why he couldn’t...

The realization hit him like a train.

He groaned, and flopped back onto his bed. The alarm continued to blare into his ears, as if someone was shouting at him. His head was pounding. The alarm seemed to be getting louder, it didn’t even sound like an alarm. People shouting into his brain, the only thing he could even comprehend.

“Save us. Save us, please.” 

“Shut up.” Pico muttered, trying to ignore the noise. He could barely think. He tried to remind himself this wasn’t real. 

Something touched him. He flinched, edging away from the opposer. It isn’t real. It isn’t real it isn’t real it isn’t real it isn’t real it isn’t-

”SAVE US. SAVE US. YOU DID NOTHING. YOU DID NOTHING, YOU PATHETIC, WORTHLESS SHIT. SAVE US.” 

”SHUT UP!” Pico screamed as loud as he could, not even realizing he had fallen off the bed. He didn’t notice anything. The ringing continued. He flailed around desperately, looking for his gun. He needed it. Where was it?? His breathing was fast and shallow, he felt like he was dying. The voices yelled at him, the touching continued. Not just touching. Grabbing. They were pulling him back. 

His hand closed around something cold. Comforting. He picked up his gun, his free hand manoeuvring the smooth surface. Yes, it was his gun. He hissed a sound of relief, as he desperately held the gun towards the ringing. It took all his willpower to focus. He shot. The noise stopped. The voices calmed down. His face was wet. He hadn’t even noticed the tears rolling down his face. 

What a great way to start a Friday.

He wiped his face roughly, trying to clean off the tears. He felt stupid. He felt dumb, and slow. He should’ve picked up the gun faster. He was better than this. He shouldn’t let those stupid voices bother him anymore. They’ve been getting worse. The touches before were only slight, only on his shoulder, or on his leg or arm. They’ve been like this since a year ago. Ever since he stopped seeing. 

Ever since his

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He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He didn’t need to think about that. He needed water. Yes. Water. 

He slowly picked himself up, stumbling. God, how much did he drink? He used his bed as help, leaning on it as he heaved himself to his feet. He didn’t bother getting changed as he trudged slowly to the kitchen, using the wall as support. When he felt the wall separate, he leaned to his left, landing on a counter. It stabbed him in the waist. For having a dull edge, kitchen counters hurt like hell. He opened a cupboard and felt inside. He hastily grabbed a cup, and trying to avoid the rest of the dishes, he pulled it out.

He stared down at his hand. He couldn’t even see it. He just tried to imagine it. Imagine his hand, holding a cup. The cup was cold. It was probably made of glass. Imagine his reflection. What did he look like? He remember he had, no, has ginger hair, his skin was rather pale, and he had freckles, which were very light compared to his very vibrant hair. He did have freckles, right? He struggled to remember. Ok, forget the freckles. His eyes were grey. That he remembers. He usually had a crease in between his eyebrows, since he frowned so much, and always furrowed them together. Nene always commented on that. He hadn’t talked to Nene in a while. Or Darnell. The two of them wanted to stay in his apartment, so they could help out, but Pico had refused the offer. They did come by every once in a while though, bringing groceries. Pico always tripped over the bags when he tried to get out of the front door. 

He hated to admit it, but he did feel kind of touched that they were trying to help out. Both Nene and Darnell are absolute fucking idiots, and he had imagined that they wouldn’t give two shits about his sight, and that they’d both continue killing random people as usual. But surprisingly, the two of them seemed to actually care? It was absolutely crazy, and Pico barely even believes it now. 

Darnell had offered that they both stay with Pico to help him, just like old times, but this time, Pico was blind. Nene had jumped in too, saying that it’d be quality time to get closer. Darnell then pushed her off the couch. He hadn’t even seen it, but Pico could perfectly imagine it. He could still remember the two of them almost perfectly. Sure, he found himself forgetting a couple of details, but he could imagine them bickering and messing around very well. 

God fucking dammit. He missed them. 

He remembered he was standing in the kitchen. Why was he there again? Oh yeah, water. He also remembered that his legs were faltering a lot. He leaned over the counter, and slid to his right, until the counter dipped, turning into the sink. He closed his hand over the counter, which was now metal. He let go, and put his hand closer, reaching the faucet. His hand lowered, and he found the spinny thingies. He spun it, and water started pouring. His other hand still gripping the glass, he moved it forward, until he heard the water entering. After a second or two, he turned the water off. 

Man, he could remember when getting water wasn’t such a process. 

He sipped his water, and thought. He decided he’d call Nene and Darnell. Maybe ask if they could come over. 

He smiled slightly behind his cup. It felt strange. He had barely smiled the past few months, maybe even past few years. He didn’t hate it though. 

He finished his water, and was about to put the glass in the sink before something touched him. He jolted, dropping the cup, and it shattered on the floor. He winced. Great. Fuck you, stupid touchy bitch. His small smile turned into a much more comfortable scowl, and he walked right through the glass. He could feel the sharp pains in his feet, but just ground his teeth and ignored it. He had a hand out in front of him, which landed on the wall. He’s hit the wall face first too many times to have not learned from it. He’d clean the mess up later. He only had one goal in mind, and that was to fuck around with Nene and Darnell again. 

Luckily for him, his apartment was rather small, so it was easy for him to remember where everything was. As his hand gripped the door frame, Pico tried to remember where he had placed his phone last, and didn’t even know if he had charged it. As he walked into his room, he could feel the glass digging into his feet. He stifled a groan. Pico sat down, and held his feet up. He knew he should have worn socks today. He could feel the lazy dripping of blood dribbling down his foot, and although the pain was nothing more than a slight sting, it was an uncomfortable feeling. He felt around for glass, and felt a shard. Not even hesitating, he pulled it out. Oh god, that one was bigger than he thought. More blood poured out of the wound as he felt around for more glass. 

As he finished his first foot, and put the other one up, he decided to see if he could still call the two dumbasses. “Hey Siri!” He said, his voice wavering slightly as he pulled a thick chunk out of his sole. 

“Yes, pussy eater?” 

He snorted loudly, accidentally whipping out a piece of glass faster than he had wanted to, tearing his skin a bit. He had forgotten he told Siri to call him that. 

“Call Nene.” He said, getting to work on the last piece of glass. 

“I’m sorry, you do not know anybody named that.” Pico frowned. He had set his two feet down, and he could feel more blood gushing out them. He couldn’t be bothered to find any bandages. What could he have put Nene’s address as?

”Call uh, dumb stupid fucking bitch.” Pico said, almost sarcastically.

”Of course.” He heard a ringtone. R-

really? 

Whatever, at least it was easy to remember. He hoped he hadn’t accidentally put that name as someone else, that would be awkward. 

“HEY DUMBASS!” Nene and Darnell screamed together. Pico winced slightly. “Hey shitheads.” He said a bit loudly. He had no idea how far away his phone was. 

“Yo, man, you lost your voice or some shit? I can barely hear you.” Darnell’s voice said. Pico was lucky as fuck that he had put the phone on speaker previously. 

“Uh. I don’t know where the phone is.” said Pico, raising his voice. 

“Well, no duh!” Nene’s high pitched voice filled the room. “We’ve been TRYING to call you for AGES. At first we thought you were ghosting us or some shit, but then we figured you lost the phone, dumbass. Either that, or you’re getting REALLY angsty or something, stuff like “no oNe cAn hElp mE. oH iM so alOne in tHis woRld. iM a goTh noW.”” Nene had deepened her voice significantly, making a really comical impression of him. He sniggered. 

“Then why didn’t you come and help me, assholes?” He slowly got up, testing his feet, and decided they were ok enough to walk for a bit. 

“BeCAUSE you’d just get mad at us for even thinking of you. Every time we’d bring you food or something and we’d try to talk to you, you just start yelling at us to go away. Actually, I think you are angsty now.” Pico could imagine Nene rubbing her fingers on her chin, as if she were deep in thought. He laughed for the first time in ages. 

Darnell took the phone again. “Are you absolutely sure you’re Pico? I think I just heard a sound of...happiness? Nene, I think someone got the wrong number or something.” Pico heard Nene respond. “Oh my GOSH! MAYBE HE’S BEEN ABDUCTED BY ALIENS!”

“Shut up, dipshits. I’m fine. Keep talking, I’m trying to find the phone.” Pico was walking around, trying to get closer to the noise. Even though speaker mode was very helpful, it was a bit hard to pinpoint exactly where the cause of the noise was, since it was everywhere. Usually loud noises set him off, but knowing it was Nene and Darnell almost comforted him. Obviously he would never ever admit that. 

“You’re getting closer. You sound less like a faraway mouse.” “A mouse who smokes twenty packs a day.” Darnell added, with Nene shouting a “HEY!”. He probably pushed her out of the way. 

“Hardy har. I haven’t been smoking that much anymore,” said Pico. He didn’t smoke that much anymore since he couldn’t find his cigs. “Am I closer?” 

“Yeah, you’re like, to the right.” Nene said. He turned, and started shuffling around. He heard Darnell and Nene jabbering to each other as he dug around. He thinks he’s in the closet. He can feel a lot of clothes on the floor, and very little above him. No time for hanging clothes. 

His hand closed around a rectangular object. He could feel the back of it, it was definitely his phone. “Is this it?” 

“Yeah!” Nene cheered. God, speaker mode was loud. He did not know how to turn it off. Guess he could just beat with it for a while. 

“Oh yeah, why’d you call in the first place? Thought you were busy brooding.” Darnell questioned, his voice slightly suspicious. 

“I was.” He answered nonchalantly. “But, uh.” He cleared his throat. How could he say this without embarrassing himself? “I missed...you..guys?” He ended the statement as more of a question, as if wondering if he said the phrase properly.

”AWWWWW!” Nene squealed, and Pico covered his ears from the amazingly girlish sound. “Did you hear that Darnell? He has feelings!” Nene sounded like a proud mother. “I wish we were recording this.” Darnell said, his voice laced with humour. 

Pico could feel himself going red. “Shut up. You know what? Nevermind. Don’t come over.” he slapped himself on the forehead. 

“YOU WANTED US TO COME OVER???!?!?!!?” Nene’s voice was now reaching an impossibly high pitch. He then heard Nene yelling a bit distantly. “HEY! STOP FUCKING PUSHING ME!” 

“Shut up. Don’t worry Pico, your besties are gonna be coming over whether you like it or not.” Darnell said, not being able to keep his voice completely steady. It was obvious he was trying not to laugh. 

“I hate you.” Pico stated. 

“We love you too Picoooooo!” said Nene, and Pico was already regretting all his life choices. 

“Bye dumbass. See you in ten.” Darnell said, and he hung up. 

Pico groaned, wondering if he would absolutely regret this or not. 

Chapter Text

Pico got up slowly from the floor, taking his phone with him, and remembered that he was still wearing practically nothing. He ducked down again, hastily grabbing what felt like a sweater, and pulled it on. All of his wardrobe was green sweaters/tees and cargo pants/shorts, since, you know, he can’t really decide on what to wear. He rummaged around on the floor for pants, and yanked them on.

As he got up again, he noted how his feet were still throbbing from the glass, but his headache had significantly decreased. Nothing more than a dull pain that sharpened every once in a while. The foot pain was very constant. He was also still bleeding. He still couldn’t find the bandages, not that he even tried to find them, but instead just sat down on his bed, and stared at the phone in his hands. Trying to stare. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough, he could see his phone. But for real. Maybe...

He gave out a frustrated sound, and tossed his phone over the bed. It hit something before making it to the floor. His gun. He quickly leaned over his bed, and fell off. The only thing that showed that he even knew he fell was a grunt from the impact. Much quicker than last time, he found his gun, and gripped the handle tightly. He had forgotten his gun. He never forgets his gun.

He comfortably put his finger on the trigger, and wondered if he should pull it. The gun was pointing at the floor in front of him. He frowned. His finger slowly started to pull down, as if on it’s own, as if it was getting impatient. Pico decided to shoot.

And then the door burst open. “HI DIPSHIT!” Nene yelled from the front of the apartment. He heard her scream, and a thump. “YOU DIDN’T PICK UP OUR GROCERIES AGAIN!” Pico snorted, but didn’t get up. He pulled the trigger.

Click.

Fuck, it was empty. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. He could hear two sets of footsteps running towards his room, although one was far more relaxed than the other. That was probably Darnell.

“Hey, dumbass, what are you doing?” Darnell said, his voice as casual as ever. “Did you know your place is a dump? Maybe you should clean up every once in a while.”

Pico frowned. “As if I know where the dump is.” He toyed with the gun, firing again and again at the floor, but only clicks coming out.

“The dump is your whole apartment,” said Nene, who had just entered. “You look horrible.” Pico scoffed at her. “Also, did you already murder someone while we were coming? There’s blood and glass on the floor.” Her voice had a slight pout in it, as if upset that Pico had dared even think about murdering someone without them.

“I dropped a cup,” said Pico bluntly, leaning his head back against his bed. “And then I stepped on it.”

“AND YOU DIDN’T BANDAGE YOURSELF??!!!” Nene screeched, already running towards him. “YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE A MESS EVERYWHERE!”

“Calm down, bitch, it’s not as if there isn’t already a mess.” Darnell moved towards Pico. “He probably couldn’t find them. See, man? You totally need our help.”

“Do not,” Pico growled. “I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.” He couldn’t help but be annoyed with the idea that he “needed” help. He had been fine on his own for years, what’s one more disability going to do?

Nene was storming through his drawers, looking for anything that could be used as a proper tourniquet. He could hear the slams of the drawers and the frustrated shriek she’d let out when she didn’t find anything. He continued firing the gun, even though he was only greeted with the click of the empty holster.

“Yo, dude, are you going deaf too? The gun’s empty, dumbass.” Darnell said, sitting on Pico’s bed. “I know, asshole. Shut up.” Pico sighed and released the trigger, putting the gun on his lap. Nene ignored the two of them.

She stopped for a moment, and ran across the room. She probably found bandages or something. She leaped over his bed, which was what Pico assumed, since he didn’t hear any footsteps or creaks in his bed at all. She landed with a boom beside him, and Pico couldn’t help but flinch. He heard Darnell snigger quietly, and shot a glare in his general direction. “Woah man, calm down. My legs didn’t do anything to you.” Darnell then let out a roar of laughter.

Pico rolled his eyes. “Go to hell, asshole.” Darnell gave a fake gasp of surprise. “Pico! How could you say that to me? I’ve only got 5 years to live, that was very offensive of you.”

Nene started wrapping one of Pico’s feet in something, it felt like..a shirt? “You’ve had 5 years to live for the past 18 years.” Pico grumbled, wincing slightly at the very tight tourniquet that Nene was making. “Jeez, Nene, are you trying to cut off my fucking circulation or something?” Darnell continued laughing. Nene ignored him. “I couldn’t find anything other than your shirts. Hope you don’t mind blood on them, not that you’d notice it anyway.” Pico groaned. “Low blow, bitch.” Nene started laughing with Darnell too, and Pico found himself getting annoyed at the two of them. “Oh, yeah, making fun of the blind kid, very classy.” He said, raising his voice slightly.

Nene wheezed. “Hey, come on man, we’re just playing,” said Darnell, his voice wavering as it had previously. “We’re very sorry that you’re very easy to offend.” Pico snarled. “Fuck off. And weren’t you the one that just got mad at me?” He huffed. Darnell laughed. “That’s different. This is funny.” Pico deadpanned at nothing in particular. No point in failing to stare correctly at the idiots. 

Nene suddenly yanked at his tourniquet, causing his foot to explode in pain. “WHAT THE FUCK, NENE?” Nene only giggled evilly, and continued tying the shirt around his foot. “You’re so fucking sensitive, little piss baby.” Pico waved his arm out randomly and managed to slap her in the face. “HEY!” Nene pulled the shirt even tighter, and Pico had to bang his fist on the floor so as to not yell. He still smirked smugly regardless, to which Nene let out an annoyed huff.

Darnell’s laughing ceased, and he leaned over, the bed creaking with his movements. “God, your face looks gross as fuck.” Nene gave a laugh which she tried to disguise as a cough, but failed to do so. “Really? Well, better go look in a mirror then, see what all the fuss is about.” Pico said sarcastically, seething. Darnell flicked him on the forehead. Pico growled at him, as Nene finished wrapping his feet. The shirts felt like socks, but like ten times more uncomfortable. He sat on his bed with Darnell, placing his gun just beside him. Nene jumped on the bed too right after. 

Pico unconsciously touched his face, feeling for the slash. It started at the top of his left eye, and ended at the bottom of his right. He tried, but couldn’t imagine himself with the scar. At least, he couldn’t imagine himself looking normal with the scar. When he thought of it, it just looked fake, like someone badly photoshopped him.

Nene decided to jump in with her opinion. “Yeah, it looks kinda badass, but at the same time it kinda messes up your whole face.” Her voice suddenly went higher. “Hey! You know what? We should go outside and like, kill someone!” She sounded rather excited about the idea. Darnell mumbled an agreement. Pico swore they were staring at him, expecting an answer.

He grumbled. “No. I went outside yesterday and I got drunk as hell. I still have a headache.” Pico scowled, not really turning his head towards either of them, since he knew he’d miss. Nene laughed. “No you didn’t! There’s a bunch of beer cans in your kitchen, you’ve really lowered your standards.” Her voice was edged with a hint of disgust, which was hilarious coming from her. Darnell whistled, as if in surprise.

Pico almost laughed again, before he realized something. He didn’t go outside? He could swear he heard other people with him...laughing...yelling. Ugh, fuck. Just when he thought things seemed real again. Pico swore under his breath.

“You two...you guys are here, right? Like, actually here?” He tried to use the least amount of emotion as possible in his voice. The idea that he had been talking to himself the whole time, with those stupid voices in his head, it was too much. It couldn’t be possible.

Nene stopped giggling. Darnell stopped whistling. He knew they were staring at him, he didn’t need his sight to know that.

“..Yeah.” Darnell was the first to speak, and gave a reassuring pat on Pico’s shoulder. He still couldn’t find himself entirely convinced, and he hated himself for that.

“Don’t your voices usually yell at you a lot? They’re always mad at you, right?” Nene said, she sounded almost confused. “But yesterday, they weren’t. They were laughing with me, I thought they were real people.” Pico clenched his fists. He stabbed his nails into his palm. “Probably because you were drunk, asshat. And you’re not drunk right now, are you? So, might as well believe us now.” Pico felt the girl lean on his shoulder. “Maybe when we get mad at you, you can pretend we aren’t real.” Pico scoffed.

Now Darnell spoke. “Look, man, we know what it’s like to have all the voices and shit, and we know it’s probably harder now, since, you know.” Pico heard a thump beside him, and an “ow” from Darnell. Nene probably smacked him on the shoulder. “Ok, ok. What I’m trying to say is, we’ll try and help you, dude. Like, we know this is probably really hard for you to deal with, so we’ll try and make you be able to trust us more. And yeah, we may not know how to do that, but we’re gonna try and find a way, I guess. Even if it means killing everyone in the world or some shit.” Darnell finished his speech almost proudly.

Pico let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “..Wow. I think I did call the wrong number.” Nene laughed loudly and smacked Pico with a pillow. “YOU BITCH!” she shrieked, still laughing wildly.

Pico started wheezing with laughter as he tried to push her away, but was tackled by Darnell. “From now on, we’re not being nice to you ever again!” Darnell declared, shoving Pico off the bed. Pico struggled to breathe, he was laughing too hard. He heard his gun being pushed off the bed. “MY BABY!” he shouted, desperately trying to scramble to his gun, falling off the bed and landing ungracefully on the floor. He continued searching for the gun, but stopped. For once, he didn’t feel like he needed it. Nene only cackled at him, throwing the pillow at him.

“Okok, I surrender!” He managed to wheeze out, his eyes tearing up.

“Too late, asshole!” Nene screeched, jumping on top of Pico. Darnell landed a second later. Pico’s air was knocked out of him.

They all stayed in the pile, trying to recollect their breath from their freak out. After a minute or two, Darnell spoke again.

“So. Are we gonna make out, or what?” Pico didn’t skip a beat. “Sure, but not with Nene, she’s got herpes.”

Nene somehow managed to kick them both in the dicks.

Keith woke up from his slumber at 11:27 in the morning. He tried to roll over, and succeeded, but also fell off the bed with a yelp. The wannabe rapper slowly picked himself up, untangling himself from the sheets, and put on his favourite pants and shirt. He sniffed the clothes. Eh, they’d last another day or two. He was excited today. He’d be rapping against someone else today, probably. Either that, or he might get kidnapped. But, he’s bringing Cherry with him as usual. And with Cherry, he’d be totally safe!

Almost a week ago, a day or two after beating Cherry’s dad in a rap battle-which the older man didn’t take too kindly-, Keith had received a very badly written letter, telling him to go over to an abandoned mansion to have a rap battle. Cherry wasn’t awfully excited about it, but Keith pleaded that she come with him, that it’d be fun.

His stomach was flying all over the place, but he was still really excited to go.

He was also very excited to talk to Cherry, he was going to show her something really cool. He had been practicing a lot last night, and he couldn’t wait to show her.

As he began to run out of his room, he tripped over a large pile of clothes that should be in the laundry. He really should clean up his abode every once in a while. His apartment was very messy, as he didn’t seem to have time to clean up. Or well, he pretends he doesn’t, what with being super famous and all that. Almost super famous. People at the moment only knew him as “boyfriend”, probably just because he was always with Cherry, of which people called “girlfriend”. He was perfectly fine with that though, at least people know him as something.

He shrugged to himself as he got up and ran to the kitchen, and grabbed an energy bar to eat while he was on his way to meet up with Cherry. It wasn’t a lot to eat at the beginning of the morning, but eh, breakfast is for losers. He swung open the entrance of his apartment and began running down staircases to the actual entrance of the building. 

As he descended the stairs three at a time, he couldn’t help but wonder who his new opponent would be. Maybe a werewolf, or a zombie! Maybe even a ghost, which would really fit in with the setting of an abandoned mansion. Regardless of being very easily frightened, Keith was excited to see what horrors awaited him. But that would have to wait until later, he still had to get to the actual place.

As he opened the front doors of the building, the wave of fresh air surprised him. It felt really nice. Man, he loved being outside. You could just do basically whatever you wanted. He spotted a red dot in the distance, which was most definitely his girlfriend. He ran to her, but in the last couple of meters he slowed down to a jog, and tried to look very cool.

Cherry had been waiting in their usual spot, her head nodding along to some imaginary beat. She turned, spotted him, and smiled softly at him when he caught up. “Hi Keith! Are you ready for tonight?” She ducked down and kissed him on the cheek, to which Keith responded with a swoon.

“I think you’ll do an incredible job today.” God, she was so amazingly perfect. Keith responded with an enthusiastic noise, which almost sounded like a “Yeah!”, but not quite. He needed to practice that a little bit more.

Speaking of practicing, he remembered why he had been so amazingly excited to see Cherry. As they began to walk, he tugged at her arm, to which her focus once again darted back to him. “What’s up, Keith?” Cherry asked. Keith took a deep breath. “Che-rry.”

Although the pronunciation wasn’t totally accurate, it sounded close enough. He grinned proudly at her. Cherry gasped, and covered her mouth. “Babe!” She was usually extremely calm, but it was times like these where she got a bit excited. She bent down and kissed him more around the face. Keith could feel a blush coming on. “You are so sweet. I love you so much.” Oh yeah, that was definitely a blush. Perhaps even a flush. He jumped up, grinning ear to ear.

Pico, Nene and Darnell were now lying on the floor, not dog piled on each other anymore. They had been sitting there for a bit, just staring at nothing. Pico thought. He put his hands behind his head.

“We can go outside if you guys want. Haven’t had a bit of fresh air in months.” Nene sat up in triumph. “YES!” Darnell was much calmer. “Dope. Maybe we can help with target practice or something.” He lifted himself up, patting Pico on the shoulder. “You know, if you want.” Pico hummed to himself. “Sure. But don’t think I’m not gonna get pissy with you guys. This shit’s hard.”

Nene and Darnell fist bumped behind Pico.

Chapter Text

Once his feet stopped bleeding, Pico took off his weird shirt sock things off, while Nene and Darnell cleaned up the mess he had made earlier. The pain was barely noticeable now, luckily for him, and he could walk much steadier now. He heard clicking noises, like a holster was being attached to a gun. It was probably those stupid voices again. He ignored it, and paced around the room. He then walked right into a wall and stubbed his toe, and he may or may not have let out a long string of curses after, including the very memorable “Stupid fucking wall, I’ll beat your ass and FUCK YOUR MOTHER.” 

“You’re fucking who’s mom now?” Darnell said out of nowhere, and Pico’s head swivelled to the direction of the noise. He responded with the usual “Shut up.” 

Darnell sniggered and shoved something cold and comforting into his arm. “You’re probably gonna need it.”

Oh. Those clicking noises were Darnell. The uzi felt much heavier. “Thanks.” Pico stuffed the gun into his back pocket, where he always put it, before Nene’s fast footsteps entered the room. “We finished cleaning your little accident!” She giggled. “Why’d you have to say it like that? Sounds like I fucking pissed or something.” Pico scowled. Darnell laughed, and then Nene laughed. Pico stared unimpressed at Nene, of whom he was certain was practically right in front of him. Her laughing ceased almost immediately, and she quickly changed topic. 

“Can we go and eat something first before we shoot people? I’m starving.” She groaned dramatically. “No way, Nene. We ate like two hours ago.” Darnell said, exhausted. 

Nene groaned again, this time louder and more dramatically. She leaned on Pico’s shoulder, and practically fell on him. “Peeeeeecoooooo. Tell Darnell we should eat somethingggggg.” Pico put a hand to his chin, and hummed loudly. “I dunno, Nene.” 

“I’ll start screaming into your ear.”

”Let’s go eat.” Pico spoke in a fake perked up tone, and Nene cheered like a 3 year old.

Nene led him to the entrance of his apartment, pulling him around like a doll. Although Pico would typically be annoyed by this, he wasn't really all too bothered. It was faster than walking by himself. 

Darnell would shout out a couple of things every once in a while, such as "Hey man, counter on your left," or "Don't trip on the bags." Pico wouldn’t admit it, but most of his comments ended up being helpful. 

After a full minute, they managed to make it out of Pico's apartment. Now came the hard part. Stairs. 

Pico lived in an apartment building, obviously. And he very unfortunately lives on one of the top floors. Those were actually the least expensive, since the bottom apartments were much sturdier. The builders probably got lazy on their way up. Luckily for Pico, he hasn't died yet. But unluckily for Pico, he can't see the stairs, and he will most likely be tripping over all of them and also embarassing himself. Hopefully Nene won’t pull him too hard. 

As they basically ran down the hall, he heard Nene open a rather loud door, which he assumed led to the stairs. The elevator was absolute shit, and you would probably die in there. It went way too fast, and even just side stepping in the elevator while descending was basically a death sentence. 

Nene ran down the first couple of steps, tugging on Pico's sleeve as he almost cautiously stepped down the first step. Darnell followed behind, and although his movements were as quick as Nene's, they were much more relaxed. 

Pico followed her hesitantly, and counted the steps as he went along. He tried not to skip any, and almost tripped when he thought there was another stair. Nene laughed at him for only a moment, before dragging him to the next flight. 

Each flight had 27 steps. It seemed like a lot, but the stairs were rather small. The three of them descended through a seemingly endless amount of stairs, before reaching the end. Pico had lost count of the flights after 12. He’ll probably need their help again to find his room. He groaned inwardly at the thought of Nene dragging him up the stairs, while Darnell would laugh extremely loudly behind them. 

As they all stepped outside, a wave of cool air hit Pico. He hadn’t expected it to be this warm. The only reason the air was cool was because of the wind that whooshed by every once in a while. “What month is it?” He asked. He had lost track of the days and months a while ago. 

“It’s March!” Nene said, right beside him. “Come on, let’s go get something,” said Darnell, standing on the other side of Pico. Nene linked her arm in Pico’s, and once again dragged him along. 

“Hey! I can walk, you know!” Pico grumbled, knowing full well that he wouldn’t even know where he was going without Nene. 

Nene basically read his mind. “You sure? I can let you go right now! God, Darnell, how are you walking so FAST?” Pico heard Darnell say something like “gotta go fast,” in the distance, and he couldn’t help but snort. 

After a couple more minutes of being dragged around, and an exciting experience of Nene almost getting him hit by a car, they arrived at... somewhere. 

“You assholes better not pull some bullshit like “I’ll take that”, and point at something.” Pico said in annoyance. 

Nene whined. “How did you knowwwww? Our plan was flawless.” 

“I will shoot you.” An empty threat, considering he would most likely miss. 

They stepped inside, and the first thing Pico smelled was grease. Mm. MacDonalds. 

It seemed empty, since Pico couldn’t hear any annoying brats screaming, or old people chattering loudly. Lucky for him. 

The three of them stepped up to the counter, Nene making a comment that the huge screen things that you can use to order are “stupid and dumb”. For once, Pico agreed with her. 

They ordered their food, paid like law abiding citizens (lame), and left. 

“So, where are we going?” Pico asked, eating his fries. 

“I dunno,” Darnell replied. “Nowhere, I guess. Might go into some creepy alleyway and shoot the shit out of a trash can or something.” 

Pico made a sound of indifference, and shrugged. Nene slurped her Pepsi loudly. Pico told her to shut the fuck up, to which she replied “ur mom,” and then they argued for a bit before Darnell’s phone ended the pointless bickering when it started ringing loudly. 

“I’d love to watch you two argue more, but I’m way too popular.” Darnell mused, answering the phone. 

“Wait, Darnell has friends?” Nene gasped loudly, shoving Pico into Darnell. He guessed that she was leaning right beside Darnell, hoping to hear something. 

“Oh, wait, nevermind. Pico’s the popular one. ‘S for you.” Darnell said, handing the phone over to Pico, while also taking his fries. Man. Those fries were good. Pico didn’t argue though, as he was curious why someone would be so desperate to call Pico on his friend’s phone. 

“PICO HAS FRIENDS?????” 

“Shut the fuck up, loser.” Pico sneered and raised the phone to his ear. “Uh, hi.” 

A deep voice responded, as if he hadn’t heard the conversation between the three of them.

“I have a task for you.” 

After taking a really long taxi ride to the next destination, Keith felt completely cramped. Ok, so maybe the car ride wasn’t that long, only an hour or so. But regardless, Keith did not like having to stay in that horrible little space. 

Cherry thanked the driver and paid them as Keith wandered around. The air felt so nice, especially after being in that stuffy car for such a long time. The walk there wouldn’t have even been that long, but they needed to make it on time. Hopefully they’d be able to walk back home together, maybe even crash at Keith’s place, or go out on a date. Or,, another date? Did the rap battles count as dates? He shrugged to himself, and decided that two dates in one night sounded good. 

He stared up at the haunted house, which didn’t look too scary. And then it started to rain. Suspiciously coincidental. 

All of Keith’s thoughts regarding how un-scary the house was faded away as soon as he heard the lightning. He yelped and ran to Cherry, who seemed as tense as he was. 

“Let’s just head inside,” she spoke quietly, taking Keith’s hand, and squeezing it a little bit too much. For some strange reason, Keith felt more comforted that she was also scared of lightning, more proof that they’re perfect for each other. He furiously nodded his approval of the idea, and they both practically ran inside. 

The door slammed shut behind the two of them, and Keith froze. Sure, he knew this was all just a bunch of stereotypes, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel at least a little bit spooked every once in a while. That’s his defence, at least. Cherry led the two of them farther inside, and they only stopped whenever the lightning striked. Keith didn’t know where they were at all, and he had a strange suspicion that Cherry didn’t know either. 

“HELLO.” 

A deep voice boomed through the area, causing the two of them to jump. Cherry looked around uncertainly before speaking. “Uhm, hi! We’re here for the rap battle!” Even though she looked moderately frightened, her voice sounded monotone and unwavering. Another thing that he admired so much about her. Keith felt that she trusted him enough to show her actual feelings to him. 

“REALLY???!!!” The voice sounded higher, and Keith could hear heavy footsteps approaching them. Approaching them fast. Keith screwed his eyes shut, because that was the only thing he really knew to do. But then he opened them again. 

There were two kids in front of them, one piggy backing another. A pumpkin, and a skeleton. “Hi! I’m Pump, and this is Skid!” What. Their voices were extremely high pitched, and Keith couldn’t believe that those two were the same voice that they had heard before. Cherry looked as flabbergasted as he was, but only smiled uncertainly and shook the hand that the pumpkin boy had extended. 

“I’m Cherry, and this is Keith. It’s very nice to meet you two.” As if. Those two had almost given him a heart attack! Keith beeped nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t almost been spooked out of his skin. Wait. Were those costumes? Why were they wearing costumes in March? 

The boy named Skid seemed to have read his mind, as he jumped off of Pump and raised his arms. “It’s Spooky Month!!!!” Pump jumped in as well. “Yeah! It’s Spooky Month!!” They then started doing a weird little dance. Keith stared at them. Was he really going to rap battle them? 

Cherry giggled at the two of them, but didn’t ask any further questions. 

“So!” Skid said, now holding a microphone. Where did that come from? “Are you ready?” The two of them were looking up eagerly at Keith. He had to admit, they were kinda cute. In their own weird, dorky way. 

He booped a yes, and the two kids cheered. A speaker set was right between them, and Keith was a bit taken aback. Had it been there the whole time? Cherry also looked a bit confused as well. She only shrugged, kissed Keith on the cheek, and climbed onto the speaker. Keith could feel his face turning red. Skid jumped onto Pump, and they nodded at Cherry. She smiled and turned to Keith, who nodded as well. 

“3,2,1, go!” 

Keith hadn’t really known what to expect. But he most definitely wasn’t expecting this. 

Skid and Pump were surprisingly good at rapping, either that, or they had horrible rhythm. Their notes were all over the place, and at some point, Keith felt almost certain that they were making some of it up. It was extremely hard to follow, the unnatural rhythm they were following made it easy for Keith to trip over his own parts, and any mistakes were severely punished. But, Keith managed to pull through and win the first song. He had to go through 2 more of these? He wasn’t entirely sure if he could keep it up. 

“Wow! That was fun!” Skid cheered, almost falling off Pump. “Yeah!” Pump said as well, and the two continued doing their strange little dance. Keith sniggered. 

Pump and Skid skedaddled to the other side of the room that they were in, probably whispering about random spooky stuff they could do. Keith walked over to the speaker set that Cherry was sitting on, and propped his elbow up against a lower one. He gazed up at Cherry cheesily. 

“What are you looking at, lover boy?” Cherry teased, winking at him. “You did a really good job! Wouldn't have expected anything less from you.” She smiled softly at him. Keith clambered up on the smaller speaker, and on his tip toes managed to sneak Cherry a kiss. She covered her mouth and giggled. He swore he saw a faint blush on her cheeks. 

Satisfied, Keith gave a small beep and climbed down, prepping himself back up. Skid and Pump scurried over to their spot, and took their positions. 

“3,2,1, Go!” 

The second song sounded slower, but the notes were faster. The rhythm in this one was a bit wonky as well, but Keith got used to it a lot quicker, and managed to get through the song with much more confidence. He won again, and he gave a loud beep of triumph. 

Cherry and the two kids applauded him, and he almost wanted to join the two spooky kids in their dance. 

“You did a super job, mister boyfriend!” Skid exclaimed, finally falling off of Pump. He landed on his face. Keith was about to put on a wince, but the skeleton bolted up as fast as he had fallen. He grinned, but his expression was soon replaced with confusion. He gave a questioning beep, and Pump looked almost as confused as he was, before realization dawned on his face. Mask? It looked a lot like a face. 

“Oh, yeah, our friend who owns this place wanted to do their own song with you, but they ended up not being able to. Uhh, I don’t really know why, he just isn’t here right now.” Pump shrugged. Keith’s focus was suddenly on Skid, who almost ran into Keith, as he was clearly very excited about something. 

“Anyway, did you like our songs? I made up the first one, and Pump made up the second one! What did ya think?” Pump grinned too, the both of them practically vibrating on the spot. 

Keith gave them a thumbs up, to which they both laughed and cheered. They then high fived, to which Cherry giggled as she slid off the speaker. 

The four of them said their goodbyes, with Skid and Pump doing a final spooky dance, and as Keith and Cherry walked out of the residence, she nudged him slightly. 

“You liked them, didn’t you? I thought they were cute.” Her lips pulled up in a small smile, and Keith pretended to act indifferent about them. Cherry saw right though his act, slapping him lightly on the arm. 

“Cherry.” He said, turning to her after walking for a while. He noticed how her eyes widened whenever he said her name, which was a record breaking two times so far. 

“Yeah?” 

“Date?”

“Of course, where do you want to go?” 

Keith shrugged, and Cherry responded with a nod. They’d know when they’d get there. 

Suddenly, Cherry wrapped him up in a hug. “I hope you know I love you a lot, right?” 

Flushing, Keith beeped out a yes. 

“What do you want me to do?” Pico asked, taking his gun out and tapping it on his leg. The three of them were seated on a sidewalk. Darnell and Nene were chattering beside him, but something about their hushed voices told him they were trying to listen in. 

“There’s a boy dating my daughter. You don’t need to know what he looks like, you’ll know when you see him.” Not that a description would help him much. 

“I’ll need you to kill him.” Alright, a typical hit man thing. A strange reason for a murder, but parents can be overprotective, he guessed.

“Ok. Time and place?” 

“Next Friday, 8pm, at ________” 

“Right, at _________?” Pico repeated, although the name was already imprinted in his mind, he said it more so that Darnell and Nene could hear. 

“Yes. Don’t disappoint me.” Pico didn’t know if he should feel threatened or not, he felt as if he’d be able to handle whatever this guy did to him, but he’s also blind.

“S’ alright with you if I bring a friend or two along? Kinda need ‘em.” Pico noticed that the conversation between Nene and Darnell eased up.

“No. You need to do it alone.”

“Then I won’t do it. And considering the fact that you probably called my phone and then called my friend’s phone must mean you’re pretty desperate. We either go on my terms or not at all,” he said coldly. “Your choice.”

“Watch your mouth, boy.” Boy?? What was he, 16? Pico bit back an insult. “But fine, I suppose I’ll allow it. I’ll be paying you $25,000 for it. You’ll have a week to plan it out, so don’t fuck it up.” Pico gripped his uzi even more tightly. He hadn’t even talked to this guy for 2 minutes and he already despised him. But 25k was a really good fucking deal. Might as well suck it up and go with it. 

“Of course.” The call ended as soon as the words left his mouth. Rude. 

After handing the phone back to Darnell and Pico reuniting with what was left of his fries, the trio resumed walking with no destination in mind. 

“Some guy’s gonna be paying me 25k to kill of some jerk who’s ‘parently dating his daughter. Next Friday, 8pm.” Pico finally decided to say after ten or so minutes of walking. 

“Finally. I was wondering if you’d even fill us in on it, shithead,” said Nene, tossing something into what he guessed was a trash can. She probably threw out her empty cup. “Especially after all that “we do it on my terms or not at all,” shit. Like, obviously I’m flattered, but tell us sooner next time.” 

“Toss this too.” Nene obliged with a hmph and snatched the empty fries holder from him, and he heard it fall inside. “I didn’t wait that long. I just wanted t’ finish my fries. Even though Darnell basically ate them all anyway.” Pico found himself easing up, since that call hadn’t really left him in high spirits. Sure, there’s the fact it’s a shit ton of money, but what if he did end up fucking it up? 

Darnell scoffed beside him, then whistled. “25k. That’s a lot. Wonder how many explosives we could buy with that.” Pico shoved him playfully. “No way are you using all of the money for that. I have to pay my rent.” Sure, his rent has been overdue for several months, but he figured he might as well. The only reason he hasn’t been kicked out yet was because the landlord was terrified of him. 

“You live in possibly the cheapest apartment ever. What else are you gonna use your money on? I know for a fact I’m going to buy every pink thing on the planet.” Nene exclaimed, jumping into the conversation. 

“Relax, Nene. It’s like, 25k, not a million,” Pico mused, doing some fast math. “That’s about 8k for the three of us, if we’re gonna split it.” 

“We could keep it, save up some money.” Darnell added. They all paused for a moment, then burst out in laughter. 

““Save it up.” Good one.” Pico sniggered. 

They dropped the money topic soon after, and instead bickered about random nonsense, such as the differences between a fruit and a vegetable, and why instant noodles aren’t cooked instantly. It was nice to be able to talk about pointless shit.

After an hour or so of walking, which felt more like 10 minutes, Nene stopped them and decided to do some target practice in an alleyway. Pico wondered aloud if someone would hear them, but the two of them insisted it was a trashy place, and there was no one in sight. Darnell decided they should play “Guess what you’re shooting”. The three of them had played this when they were much, much younger, where one of them would be blindfolded and shoot something, and they would guess what it is that they shot based off of the sound. If they got it right, they’d get a point. If not, they’d lose one. 5 points and you win. They’d play in turns, but this time, it was just one person playing. 

Pico swung his arm around horizontally. Nene shouted stop, and he shot. A bullet ricocheted off metal. “Trash can.” He had forgotten how nice it was to shoot at something. 

“Ding ding ding! Point for Pico!” Nene’s voice rung through the air. He smirked, and began swinging his arm again. This time, Darnell shouted stop, and Pico once again shot. It went straight through, and it sounded almost like a rip. He hummed. “Cardboard box.” 

“Another point for Pico.” Darnell responded. They played another three rounds, one being a bottle, another was a can, and the third was a bag full of something that Pico couldn’t exactly hear. Darnell and Nene had given him the point anyway, and he won, five in a row. 

“Ayy. Good job, P-man.” Darnell said, walking deeper into the alleyway. “God, you know I hate it when you call me that.” Pico replied, but he wasn’t really annoyed. He followed Darnell’s voice, and heard Nene running up behind them. “Hey, Pico, where you going? We’re back here, dummy.” 

Fucking hell. 

Pico bit down hard on his tongue. “Oh.” He said simply, and left it at that. He’s not going to let his stupid fucking voices mess this up. 

Nene and Darnell didn’t question him, which he was secretly thankful for. “Alright,” Darnell started. “I’m gonna throw this, and you’re gonna shoot where it lands.” Oh, good. This seemed possible. Pico had thought that they’d have him try to shoot things in midair. His hearing was good, but not that good. 

“Alright, throwing item number one.” He heard a thump directly behind him. He immediately turned around and shot. The bullets did collide with something, which just sounded like more cardboard.

“Nice, I thought your aim woulda’ been shit by now.” Darnell laughed. Pico turned again and flipped him off, and Nene snorted. “My turn!” He heard her exclaim. 

Something whammed to his left, and he shot. It was a trash can lid, he didn’t think Nene had thrown the whole trash bin. She cheered behind him. 

They continued throwing shit, and he continued shooting it, and he had only missed a couple of times. Not bad, considering he hadn’t even properly used his gun for a while. He felt a bit proud of himself. 

The gun eventually clicked, and none of them had packed extra bullets, so they went back to his apartment. The entire trip was a blur, just them randomly yelling about shit, and Pico knew that at least some people had looked at them weird. But he didn’t care. Fuck them. 

The ran up staircase after staircase, and finally arrived at their destination. None of them felt tired, so they ordered pizzas and just chilled. 

Pico didn’t regret calling them. 

Keith woke up to his alarm again, and was a bit surprised that it had already been a week since he had rap battled those two kids. No one had sent him any anonymous messages or anything regarding having a battle with him, so he was a bit disappointed (albeit relieved) that this week had been so calm. As he trudged to get his now clean clothes on, which he washed after procrastinating to clean them for a while and giving in last night, he suddenly remembered his date with Cherry. Apparently, her dad had booked tickets to a concert, but he was trying to book a restaurant for him and his wife. He wondered how her dad could’ve possibly messed it up, but hey, he allowed Cherry to take the tickets. Cherry had texted him the situation, and Keith felt extremely excited to be able to spend more time with his girlfriend. Hopefully the concert wasn’t too crowded. The show would go on from 5:30-8pm, and they had decided to take a train to get there, since it was (hopefully) less cramped than a car, and it would be much quicker. 

Keith went on with his usual routine, as his date wasn’t in another 5 hours. He’d have to leave at 4:30 to make it to the train just in time, so he got a bit of time to himself. Not that he really did much, other than play Guitar Hero and watch a bunch of movies. He didn’t even have anything to clean up, as he had gotten so bored on Wednesday that he cleaned up his entire apartment. Although he usually dreaded cleaning, it’s not really as bad as he makes it out to be. 

Eventually, after watching a bunch of let’s plays on a new horror game that came out (he would always pause at the beginning and search for jumpscare lists before watching any of them), he decided to head out and meet up with Cherry. 

He wanted to take his skateboard, but the thoughts of where he would put it lingered, so he decided to just walk. He made in just on time, as he had planned, and waved excitedly at Cherry. She returned the wave, and smiled sweetly. “Are you excited? I’ve never heard this band before.” 

He nodded yes but shrugged, since he hadn’t heard of the band either. She only nodded as the train arrived. 

There weren’t many people inside, luckily for Keith. So it wasn’t cramped, and the ride was rather short. They both stepped outside, and looked around for the building. 

After a few minutes of searching, they found their destination, and entered. It was... loud. Keith enjoyed the music, but wasn’t sure if this was Cherry’s thing. To his pleasant surprise, she was bobbing her head along with the music. She seemed to like it as much as he did. He gripped her hand as they enjoyed the music.

Throughout the entire week, Nene, Darnell and Pico would leave Pico’s apartment from afternoon until evening, just talking about random shit, and continuing to do target practice, Nene coming up with absolutely stupid ideas that somehow actually helped his aim. It was a rather fun week, and Pico felt it went way too quickly for its own good. The day of his task grew nearer and nearer, and not only did the knots in his stomach grow, so did the voices. 

You’re going to miss.

You’re going to kill Nene and Darnell.

Kill yourself while you can still avoid this.

But you can’t even do that, right? 

Coward. 

Pico tried his best to shut the voices off, not letting them win him over. But nonetheless, the voices chattered nonstop in his head, and he wishes that the guy hadn’t assigned this to him so early. The earlier the announcement, the worse it seems. 

Nene and Darnell were calling him, probably yelling at him to get his ass moving. They were to meet up at the train station, near a concert that was taking place. Pico assumed his target was in there. Guess he’d just have to wait and see. Ha. He mentally scoffed at himself for being such an idiot. 

As usual, the three of them walked, and it didn’t take too long. They had decided to arrive early, in case anything were to happen during the concert. Although the conversation sounded light hearted, there was a very clear tension between them. And especially between Pico. He felt distracted, and his movements felt slow. 

“What time is it.” He asked, although it didn’t sound much like a question. 

“7:50.” Nene responded. 

Ten minutes. It’ll be quick. It doesn’t even matter if they’re seen. Why was he sweating so much? God, he knew he hasn’t done a hit man task in god knows how long, but he shouldn’t be this nervous. 

But why did he feel scared of who he’d have to kill? He wouldn’t even be able to see them. And he doesn’t even know that many people. It would be fine. 

It won’t be fine, a voice whispered faintly. 

Pico felt absolute dread when he found himself agreeing. 

Keith cheered loudly with the rest of the audience as the final song ended. He was flushed, he had been moving around and jumping up and down for those 2 and a half hours. He hadn’t been to a concert in such a long time, and was more than ecstatic that he had spent his return with Cherry. She too was blushing a faint red, and she looked as happy as he felt. They both had had such a fun time together, and he for once felt thankful for her father. Those tickets must’ve been extremely expensive. 

As they stepped outside of the building, Keith fanned himself with his cap as he beeped joyfully at Cherry, who was retelling her favourite parts of the concert. She had liked it when Keith accidentally bumped into a woman’s butt, who then slapped the hell out of some guy who she thought had hit her. They both were in tears from laughter as Cherry recalled the event. Surprisingly enough, Keith didn’t feel too tired. Maybe they could go for a stroll, or whatever those romantic walks were called. 

But then Cherry stopped talking. She was staring at two people, who had noticed her. They both looked extremely familiar. Maybe he had seen them during his rap battle with Cherry’s dad? The girl in pink pointed at them. She was whispering something that Keith couldn’t quite understand. A boy in a purple and yellow shirt nudged someone who Keith couldn’t see. Keith then realized how close they were to these people. 

Wait. 

He knew them. 

But, if they were here, then...

An extremely familiar ginger haired boy stepped out, and looked directly at the two of them. Keith knew him. He remembered that green sweater, the uzi he always carried, the frown on his face. But something was wrong. He had a massive, ugly scar, slashing through his eyes. It couldn’t be him. No way. But he said the name anyway. The only other name he knew how to say. 

“Pico?” 

Chapter Text

Pico froze at the sound of his name. 

No. It couldn’t be. It was just his stupid voices. 

But why would they have chosen Keith? 

Someone gripped his shoulder, and Pico flinched. “What.” 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Darnell said, his voice a whisper. “And it is him. It’s not in your head.” 

Pico’s breath hitched. He had ended things...badly between the two of them. That was a bit of an understatement. But he still cared about Keith, no matter how much he had yelled at him that he hated him, that he wished they had never met. 

God, he really messed up. 

But now he had a choice. Kill him for money, or let him live, and face the consequences. He had already ruled out the first option as soon as Darnell told him this was real. Guess he’d have to improvise. 

Cherry was...very confused, to say the least. She hadn’t expected Keith to have been close with a hit man. Well, she assumed that he was a hit man. The gun gave it away. That, or he and his small group of friends just wanted to scare them off. 

Cherry knew that she should be feeling jealous, or angry, that Keith had already cared about someone as much as he had cared about her. But she didn’t. Keith looked extremely nervous. He seemed to start building up a sweat, and all signs of excitement had vanished in a flash. She narrowed her eyes. The only reason she was even angry was because clearly this man had done something to harm Keith in the past. She gripped her boyfriend’s hand, who squeezed it as if he was holding on for dear life. She sighed. 

“Excuse me, but what do you guys want? If it’s a rap battle you’re looking for, then you don’t need to be so mysterious about it.” She wished her voice didn’t waver as much as it had. But her eyes kept darting back to the gun. He was holding it so nonchalantly, as if he took it everywhere. He could shoot at any moment, with no warning. She assumed that her dad must’ve hired him, and that the whole concert thing had been a ruse to meet up with the supposed mercenary. She desperately hoped he hadn’t assigned the man to kill Keith. 

The ginger haired boy named Pico seemed to snap out of his thoughts. He looked confused at the offer, but his expression immediately turned to a smug grin. 

“Sure. We’re just tryin’ to make sure you guys caught our drift. We’re not messing around.” the man lazily flicked the gun around. Cherry finally noticed the scar on his eyes. There was no way he could see with that ugly thing on his face. She sincerely didn't think he had actually come here for a rap battle.

A rap battle??? 

What the fuck. He hadn’t been expecting that. He also hadn’t been expecting some random girl to show up. Oh, he supposed that was the daughter. He felt a small pang of guilt that she had to be in the middle of this mess. Well, then again, the mess would just be rapping at each other. He fought the urge to laugh at the idea, but realized he could easily pretend that that was his main intention. Especially since the girl had been so quick to assume that he was here just for that. And maybe if he somehow won, the man could forgive him for not being able to kill Keith. Alright, he could go with that. He hadn’t rapped for well over a year, but he supposed he could use some rather old songs that he had made up. He still somehow remembered the lyrics, not that he would've let himself forget them. 

It wasn’t a memory he liked to dwell on, but right after breaking up horribly with Keith, Pico had let out all his rage onto his notebooks, furiously scribbling random words that popped up to him, and making lyrics. Day and night for several weeks he forced himself to work on the songs, just to have something to distract him. Improving things that didn't need improvement. Deleting things that hurt him too much. He had kept the lyrics to himself, but sent the instrumentals to Darnell and Nene, telling them he’d show them the lyrics later. He never did. He doubted they even still had the songs, but he might as well ask. 

He nudged the person beside him, who turned out to be Nene. She hissed at him silently, but he leaned close to her. 

“D’you remember around a year ago when I sent you and Darnell those songs?” 

“Yeah, the ones with no lyrics, the ones that you totally lied to us about sharing the actual words,” she whispered back. “What about them?” She then gasped. “You’re gonna use those?” 

“Oh, shut up, Nene, they weren’t that bad.”

“I’m not saying that. You wrote those like a year ago, when you were super emo. What if the lyrics are horrible? Can you even rap?” 

“Do you still have the songs or not?”

“What are you two talking about?” Darnell popped in.

“Pico wants to use his edgy songs from a year ago. He sent them to me and you, remember?” 

“It’s you and I, dumbass.” Pico started to lose his patience. "I'm not going to ask again. Do you have them, or not?"

“Shut up mom, I'm scrolling." Nene lost her will to be quiet. "Ok, yeah, I still have them. I'll hook 'em up to that random speaker set."

Although he knew he should question what the fuck a speaker set was doing on a train station, he decided to just humph and prepare himself. 

Keith was nervous. Well, not just nervous. He was also feeling quite terrified. 

He wasn't scared of Pico, actually, no, he was scared of Pico. He didn't even want to think about the last time they had seen each other. He stared at the gun that Pico held. He shivered, jumping whenever the gun seemed to be pointing at him. Cherry seemed extremely concerned for him. He wished he didn't look like such a baby. 

"Keith, if you don't want to do this, then you don't have to. I have no idea who this person is, but it's clear he's done something wrong to you, and I don't want you feeling uncomfortable."

Keith thought about this. They had ended their relationship on bad terms, but maybe if they somehow made up, he could potentially become friends with Pico. It was a dumb idea, but he still cared for Pico. He had missed him. And now that he could finally see Pico again after such a long time, he wasn't going to let him get away so easily. And besides, he still needed to apologize to Pico for what he had done, even if he didn’t really know what he did wrong. Hopefully he’d be able to figure it out. 

He took four deep breaths. 

He shook his head, and gave Cherry a smile. She nodded, and squeezed his hand.

He watched as Nene and Pico argued, while Darnell stared at them unimpressed, and he almost laughed. The three of them would always mess around. It was so strange how familiar this all looked, even though he hadn't seen any of them for so long. As he watched, Keith's attention returned to the scar on Pico's face. He wondered what had happened to him.

He was ready. 

No you're not.

He shook his head. Yes, he was. "You ready, Keith?" God, he missed saying that name. 

He heard a confident beep. He gave a thumbs up, and Nene started the music.

His first song he had just named “Pico”, as he hadn’t known what else to call it. It was a rather experimental song, as he didn’t know how to even write anything. It started with him hyping himself up. Classic. 

“Go Pico, yeah, yeah, go Pico, oh.” God. He had forgotten how low his voice was. He really did sound like he smoked 20 packs a day. He also realized he had forgotten the instrumentals of the song. The rhythm was easy enough, but each second felt new to him. 

Keith repeated after him, although it sounded more like beeps and boops than actual words. He adored how Keith sounded. It was cute. Wait what the fuck. No. He’s got a girlfriend, dumbass, you aren’t supposed to think shit like that. He mentally cursed himself. 

He hadn’t expected Keith to jump in halfway through the song, and the way their voices contrasted sounded...great. He allowed himself to admit that. He heard a crowd cheer when the song was over. A crowd??? Ugh, god fucking dammit. Just another day of Pico somehow making a fool of himself. He forced himself to ignore his surroundings. 

His second song was called “Philly”, and it was the most difficult for him to sing. He had no idea how he did it, but he pitched his voice rather strangely, but in a way that sounded satisfying. And then there was the one part that sounded absolutely unnatural. His throat always hurt after the song. He still found himself mesmerized with Keith’s voice, and he had to yell at himself silently to stop being such a fucking simp. 

The crowd roared again as Keith ended the song. It sounded like more people had arrived to watch. It was fucking weird, especially since the station had been so empty when Pico had challenged Keith. 

Although Pico knew he had already lost, he might as well bring out his last song. “Blammed” was the song he had the most mixed feelings about. The song and the beat were rather impressive by his standards, but he practically detested the lyrics. He had written them too close to home, and he couldn’t help but be upset whenever he sung them. But people don’t pay attention to words, unless they’re written out right in front of them. No one except him would even care. 

“Once you step in, your life’s gonna change. Your life will never be the same as it was.” He practically shouted the lyrics. The crowd screamed at him. His head throbbed. 

KILL YOURSELF 

KILL YOURSELF 

KILLYOURSELFKILLYOURSELFKILLYOURSELF

Keith stuttered over his lines as he continued, and once as the melody filled the air, the crowd calmed down. But as soon as Pico started his lyrics, the screaming continued, and all Pico could hear was screams. He was singing, but he didn’t know what. He fought to keep his composure. It’s not real. 

Pico barely managed to finish the song. He lost. People cheered. He didn’t care. 

“Good job. Guess I won’t kill you,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t almost had a panic attack right there and then. “Oh, yeah, her dad sent me to kill you and shit. Small world.” Keith responded with a timid beep. Pico felt a deep sense of satisfaction, but then hated himself for it. 

Nene and Darnell were at his side once more, and he could tell from the way they walked. He was slightly impressed with himself that he had been unconsciously taking notes on that. The crowd had parted, but Pico wasn’t entirely sure if he had imagined it or not. 

“Quite a crowd, huh?” The girl spoke. Oh. Then..did he imagine them screaming at him to die, or was that in his head? God, everything was so difficult to understand. Keith beeped, and he sounded much more relieved. Ugh, god. He wanted to leave, so he wouldn’t end up blushing like a fucking volcano.

“Wow, Pico, I seriously didn’t expect that,” said Darnell in a teasing tone. “Is this what you’ve been doing for the past year? Becoming a world famous musician?” 

“Shut up, asshole. ‘S all I remembered to even sing.” 

“Wellllll, you did a pretty good job!” Nene said, almost knocking Pico over. “I mean, yeah, you lost, but good job!” 

“Thank you, Nene, you’re too kind.” Pico replied monotonously, rolling his eyes. 

Keith didn’t know that Pico had written a song, let alone three. The first two were the usual hyping up, egotistical remarks, nothing less to be expected from Pico. But the third song..

It didn’t sit right with Keith. He had messed up on that song multiple times, while he processed what Pico sang at him. The way Pico looked while he sung those lyrics..he looked much more different than the first two, which had been so much more easy going, and so much more....him. Maybe the song related to something that had happened to him before. Probably before he even met Keith. 

He was worried about Pico. Even though he had Nene and Darnell, maybe he just needed to talk with someone who wasn’t in the same boat as him. God, was Keith really making excuses to talk to Pico? He couldn’t help but feel immensely guilty that he was thinking these things in front of Cherry. 

She somehow noticed his expression, and took it upon herself to lead the situation. 

“Would you three like to go out somewhere?” she asked, her voice much lighter than it had been previously. Nene gave her a smug grin. 

“You asking us out on a daaaate?” She mused, and Pico coughed loudly. Nene laughed at him. 

“I’ll go,” Darnell said. He and Nene stared at Pico. 

“..fine.” 

“YAYYYY!” Nene squealed. She then pointed at Cherry. “You’re paying, right?” 

Cherry giggled. “Of course.” 

Pico didn’t care much for restaurants. They were always too loud for him. It did end up being rather quiet though, which was good. Nene and the girl chattered nonstop, who Pico learned was named Cherry. Apparently, Keith had wanted to date her, but her dad wanted to rap battle him, to see if he was “worthy enough” of dating her. Keith won, and her dad was furious. That must be why he gave him the task. 

Pico straightened up in his seat. The task! How did he even forget that? Oh, god. Curse him and his stupid irrational decisions. He nudged the person beside him, who was Darnell. He seemed to have interrupted an ongoing conversation, but he couldn’t care less. 

“What’s up?” 

“I need you to call her dad. I think I might be fucked if I don’t.” 

“Ah, sure.” Darnell shuffled around, probably trying to get his phone. 

“Oh!” Cherry spoke up. “Don’t worry about it, I can handle it for you.” She laughed softly. “He may not be too happy, so avoid any phone calls.”

Welp, guess that’s solved, then. Pico let out a deep breath. “Thanks.” Cherry hummed in approval and continued talking to Nene. 

They remained there for a while, talking about nothing in general. Pico tried to relax more, but whenever Keith would beep something, he would freeze up. Nene and Darnell had obviously noticed this, as when Keith and Cherry invited them to walk with them, they asked them to hang on for a second. 

As soon as the two were supposedly out of the door, he could tell his two friends were staring right at him. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Pico? You’ve been acting weird all night.” Darnell spoke. 

“We know you didn’t break up well with Keith, but at least tell us why you’re being so paranoid around him. Or well, more paranoid.” Nene sighed. Neither of them had pushed the subject before, but it’s not as if he hadn’t expected them to question him sooner or later. 

Pico groaned. He didn’t know what to do. If he did tell them, would they hate him? 

Yes they would. 

He frowned. No they wouldn’t. It’d take a lot to make them hate him. He exhaled. 

“I was..an asshole to him.” Nene started to say something, but he interrupted her. “On purpose.

“I really liked Keith. And I still do, and I know that that’s fucked, but whatever. I’m surprised he even came along for this.” 

“What did you do?” Nene asked, intrigued. 

“Well, I was worried for him. He was, well, innocent, I guess. And I had a horrible job, and I did horrible things. I didn’t want to worry him, or worse, get him hurt. And I knew that I was dangerous, since I had a ton of freak outs when he wasn’t with me. So I started to think. And that was a real fucking mistake.” He laughed humourlessly, and continued.

“I needed to get away from him somehow. And I couldn’t just leave. It’d be too complicated, and I didn’t want him to go looking for me. And I couldn’t just randomly break up with him either, since I was worried he’d continue to stay in contact with me, somehow. So I decided to make him want to break up with me. Everyday, I would get myself in a bad mood, and I would curse him, yell at him, and even just not talk to him.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I thought it was a good plan. If he hated me, he wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. But the fucker stayed.” He chuckled sourly.

“He thought I was just having mood swings, and he kept coming back and loving me. And I couldn’t fucking take it. I didn’t know what to do. So I reviewed my options again. And I broke up with him. There was a lot of yelling, all of it from me. Shouting things like “I hate you.” “Get out of my life.” “Meeting you was the biggest mistake in my life.” And the look on his face..” he paused, and gulped. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever had to look at. I regretted everything I said before I even said it. But for some reason, the stupid little shit kept insisting we stay, that we could “work this out together”. And I had to think fast. And I pulled my fucking gun on him.” He heard a sharp intake of breath.

“It was the worst thing I could’ve done, but the only thing I could do to convince him to leave. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be treated like that.” The image of Keith’s horribly sad face was still imprinted in his mind. “And that’s how we broke up.” 

Neither Nene nor Darnell spoke, and Pico was almost scared that he had been talking to himself the whole time. “That is...really fucked up, man.” Darnell finally said. Pico grimaced. “I guess I can see your logic, but it’s totally stupid. You should’ve tried to end things easily. Maybe he would’ve understood.” 

“But if he didn’t? What if he refused, and stayed anyway? Every single thing that I would come up with, I would overthink so many times. I wanted him to hate me so he could just get the fuck away from me.” his voice dropped to a whisper. “I didn’t want to hurt him.” 

“But you hurt him anyway, even if it’s not physical,” said Nene, her voice as low as his. “You’ve gotta apologize to him. The fact that he joined us here, the fact that he even rap battled with you instead of just beeping at you to fuck off means that he still cares. If I were him, I would’ve just left. Sure, he’s an idiot for not leaving you in the dust, but he’s a compassionate idiot.” She poked him in the chest. “And you, my paranoid little shit bag, are going to say sorry to the compassionate idiot.”

“And you gotta build up his trust too, which shouldn’t be easy at all. Don’t think that just walking up to him and saying sorry is gonna fix everything.” Darnell added, sighing. Pico only nodded slightly. He hadn’t expected anything other than the harsh truth from the two of them, but it still kinda hurt having to hear it. That’s what comes when fucking serious shit up, he guessed. 

“If you wanna cry or something, we’re here. Don’t lean on me, though, your head is huge.” Nene said, the humour slowly pouring back into her voice. Pico laughed dryly. 

“Nah. I think I’ll wait until I fix this shit.” 

“Good luck with that, man.” Darnell lightly slapped him on the back. “Anyway, we’ve kept them waiting long enough, let’s head out.” 

The three of them left the restaurant to reunite with the couple. 

A couple minutes ago.

Keith and Cherry left the restaurant to give the trio their time, and sat on a nearby bench. Keith had been paranoid throughout the entire conversation, and would tense whenever Pico randomly paused. Cherry had noticed this. She wanted to ask, but didn’t want to push. 

Keith was balling his shirt up in his fists, a look of pure worry on his face. She might as well try to comfort him. “You ok, Keith?” She carefully placed a hand on his cheek, and tilted his head towards her. He didn’t pull away, so she knew he was fine with it.

“If you need to talk about anything, I’m always going to be here for you.” Keith seemed to think about this for a second, then nodded. Cherry hopes this won’t push too much.

“Would you like to? Talk about it, I mean.” Keith gives a desperate attempt to give an “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” look. “Oh, come on, Keith. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how nervous you were. If this is something that you don’t want to talk about, then I’m fine with it, but I just want to know if you’re fine with..this.” She waved her free hand a bit. “That way you looked when you saw them,” she made sure to avoid specifications, she knew exactly who he was nervous about. “Have you had previous experiences with them?” 

Keith bit his lower lip, most likely considering how he should tell her this, or if he should even tell her about it. He put up two fingers. Yes or No. Keith didn’t usually enjoy having to dumb himself down to only saying one thing or the other, but it seemed that that was all he could really do when talking about this topic. Cherry nodded. 

“Alright. So you know all three of them, right?” 

Keith nodded. 

“The last time you saw them, did you leave in good terms?” 

Keith shook his head. 

“Are you..scared of them?” 

Keith frowned. He slowly nodded, then shook his head. Not all of them. 

“Are you friends with the girl?” 

He nodded with a shrug. He thinks he still is. 

“Are you friends with the boy in yellow and purple?” 

He responded the same. 

“Are you friends with the boy in green?” 

His face turned slightly white. He slowly shook his head. Cherry was starting to get worried, but didn’t want him to back off. 

“Did he hurt you?” 

Keith furiously shook his head. 

Cherry thought. Then what could the boy have done? 

“Was he..nice to you?” 

Keith looked like he wanted to nod, but shook his head. 

“Did you love him?” 

He had a guilty look on his face as he nodded. 

“You know it’s fine to have loved someone before me, Keith.” She laughed softly, and he seemed to relax. 

“Has he ever...pointed that gun at you?” She remembered how hard he had been staring at the gun, flinching with every move it made. 

Keith’s face contorted into something that Cherry couldn’t quite explain. He looked terrified, and guilty at the same time. As if he did something to get that gun pointed at him. Cherry couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Keith, whatever you’re thinking, you do not deserve that. Never.” 

Keith nodded ever so slowly. This may take some more work. Obviously this Pico person had been very special to him, and he had also obviously done something terrible to Keith. And that would not do. But Cherry knew that this was probably all that Keith was comfortable with sharing, so she dropped the subject. And just in time too, as the trio left the restaurant, although they looked slightly more morbid than before. 

Although they hadn’t left looking so excited, they definitely sounded as if a weight had been lifted off their chests. Especially Pico. It was a bit suspicious, but he was being nice to Keith, which was, well, nice. Keith seemed much more relieved to see Pico interacting with him more. Cherry didn’t mind, as long as her boyfriend wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a bit strange to think about how a blind boy and a practically mute one communicated, but they seemed to understand each other quite well, with minimum talking. They clearly did have some sort of special bond in the past. And Cherry was just fine with that.

As long as Keith was happy. 

Chapter Text

Pico could see. 

Not very well, though. The room that he was in was pitch black. 

Was he even in a room? He was very clearly not in his own room, but he was inside somewhere. Suddenly, a random beam of light flashed on something that was too far away to view clearly. So he was in a hallway. Fun. He could hear faint whispering around him, and if he looked hard enough, he could see the tiles on the floor. 

All that he could make out of the object covered in the new light source was red and pink. He suddenly felt sick. 

His body moved towards the light, although Pico would very much have preferred to just stay in the dark. 

As he approached the thing, he noticed that it was a person. He felt himself turned white once he understood who it was. 

It was Nene. 

But that was impossible. He had just been with her. He wanted to stop, but his feet continued to walk towards her. Stop. Stop, please. But they wouldn’t stop. And in just a few seconds, he was standing over her corpse. 

She looked like she was sleeping. If it weren’t for the razor sticking out of her torso, and the rips and tears in the sleeves of her shirt, he would have believed it. Blood dripped out of her mouth. Pico wanted to throw up. 

Regardless of what he did and didn’t want, he got closer to Nene, way too close, and ducked down. All he could see was her face, and the oozing blood that was making a puddle beside her. He reached out, and opened her mouth. Her tongue had been cut off. Why wouldn’t his body listen to him??? He desperately wanted to leave, to wake up from this stupid nightmare. But he was forced to watch.

Not a great way to reintroduce yourself to seeing.

Suddenly, the light flicked off, and turned on somewhere else. On a mess of purple, yellow, and red. He didn’t even need to look at it for longer than a second to know who it was.  

Darnell wasn’t as bloody as Nene. But he looked so much worse. 

His face was practically burnt off, his skull showing in certain places, while in some parts it was covered in red, where it almost looked glossy. His ears had been completely burnt off, and his eyes were closed. But Pico guessed that he probably didn’t have those either. 

His pretend body continued to stand there for a few seconds, before the light once again turned off and on again. At the end of the hallway. He could make out green and orange. Was that..him? 

His feet moved faster this time, almost running towards the other Pico. He too was covered in red, but he wasn’t bleeding. The voices grew louder. The other Pico was sitting down, head digging into his knees, trying to hide himself. At his side lay a blowtorch, and bloodied scissors. He was gripping onto his Uzi, his knuckles white, and it almost looked like the gun would break if the other Pico held it any tighter. 

Suddenly, a high pitched laugh came out of nowhere. It was disturbingly familiar. Pico tried to distinguish where the sound was coming from, but soon realized it was coming from him. The voices screamed, and Pico couldn’t understand what any of them were saying. But somehow, his own strange laugh was overpowering the voices, and they quieted down. He had barely even noticed the other Pico standing up, holding the gun straight at his head. 

“Go on, shoot me.” Pico heard himself saying. But he knew he wasn’t himself. The other Pico didn’t say anything, and only backed up, bumping into the wall behind him. 

“You can’t, can you?” Cassandra said. Pico’s perspective changed. He was now the one holding the gun, right at her. She only smiled wickedly at him, and laughed harder. “It’s all just a dream, isn’t it? It’s not real.” Her grin only grew wider as she moved closer to him. “But guess what, Pico? It is real. I’m still alive, you know that, don’t you?” She paused, then laughed at herself. “Obviously you do. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be able to see. Haha, that rhymed!” He hated her voice. It was high pitched and cold, an endless taunt pounding in his head. His breath hitched, and he pressed the gun into her temple. She didn’t notice. 

“You’ve spent your whole pathetic life running from something that didn’t exist. Well, something that didn’t seem to exist. But as soon as you settled down, hoping that maybe it was all just in your head...” her voice lingered. 

“It wasn’t. So keep running, Pico.” Those words echoed around him, and he clutched his head with his free hand. 

Keep running, Pico. 

Keep running.

KEEP RUNNING.

Pico could barely breathe. He pulled the trigger, and Cassandra laughed at him as the world went white. 

Pico bolted up, his lungs desperately trying to take air. He clutched his chest, then his head, then he covered his eyes. Not that it would do any good. Her face was still imprinted in his mind. 

She should’ve been dead, but she wasn’t. She never had been. 

Pico forced himself up off his sad excuse of a bed, and thought hard to recollect his memories of the previous night. He had exposed himself to Nene and Darnell, then they walked with Cherry and Keith. He had been acting much more relaxed with Keith, since he didn’t want to worry either him or Cherry. He didn’t remember their conversations, so they probably weren’t important. They then split up, and Nene and Darnell helped him back into his apartment. Were they staying overnight? Pico felt that they probably would’ve heard his racket. 

He didn’t even know what time it was. For all he knew, it could be 24 hours later. He scoffed at himself. He could barely even sleep for 4 hours, let alone 6 times that much. It was a surprise he even managed to close his eyes, due to how stressed out he had been the night previously. 

He stumbled and almost tripped over himself as he walked across his room, and slammed into the door. Who the fuck closed it? Ugh, probably Nene, she’s got a thing for “keeping things clean” or whatever. 

That seemed to be enough to wake up whoever was in the other room, as Pico heard shuffling. 

“Did you throw yourself onto the door or something?” Darnell asked, his voice raspy from sleep. He stifled a yawn. 

“No. Someone closed the door when it shouldn’t be closed, and I walked into it.” Pico was too tired to come up with any insults, and Darnell was also too tired to laugh at him. He heard a faint mumbling of “I did that,” coming from Nene, who was also walking towards him. 

Pico crossed his arms, and decided to think for a second as Darnell and Nene quietly checked the time, Nene muttering “2:40, impressive he slept that long.” 

He hadn’t told them at all about Cassandra, in fact, he had forced himself to lock that stupid memory deep down. But after his stupid nightmare..he felt himself worrying for them. If they didn’t know, then Cassandra had the element of surprise. Besides, Pico was tired of dodging the age old question of “what the fuck happened to your face?”. 

“I need to tell you guys something.” His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but the muttering between the two others ceased immediately. 

“You’ve been telling us a lot of things lately.” Darnell said, his voice growing slightly fainter. A creak on the bed signalled that he was sitting down. 

“Well, I’ve got to make up for a year of not talking to either of you.” Pico noticed Nene linking his arm around hers, leading him to the bed. He wanted to say that it wasn’t necessary, but he decided not to. 

As all three of them were seated, Nene spoke. “So, what’s up?” 

“..I think I should tell you guys about what happened to me.” 

Nene and Darnell said “Alright,” at the same time, but neither commented on it. Pico sighed, digging deep into one year ago. 

January 27, 2020.

Pico had broken up with Keith six weeks ago. It’s almost been two months. He had desperately been trying to think on the brighter side, but there wasn’t one. He hated his job, himself, and he almost hated Keith. And he wanted to. He wanted to hate him so, so bad, as a way to justify his actions, to prove to himself that breaking up with him was inevitable. But he couldn’t. Keith hadn’t done anything wrong, it was all Pico. Stupid, idiot, pathetic Pico. 

He decided to go for a walk. He had been walking a lot for the last couple of weeks, trying to take his mind off things. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. He was pulling on a coat when suddenly, his phone rang. 

God fucking dammit. 

It was that stupid guy that kept hiring him. He had said last time that that would have been his last job. And there he went, calling Pico again. He paid good money, sure, but each person he hired Pico to kill was ridiculously skilled in multiple different ways, and the ginger haired boy could never finish the job without several new scars. It was hell, but the income was almost worth it. 

Pico scoffed to himself as he answered the call. 

“Yes?” 

“Hi, Pico. I’ve got one last job for you. One more, and that’s it.” 

“That’s what you said last time. And the time before that. And the time before that. Look, I know I’m really cool and all, but can’t you try and find someone else? I can’t keep this up forever, you know.” Another good thing about this certain caller was that they had gotten “close”, as in Pico was allowed to smart mouth him. Talk like that to another client and his head would have been blown off before he could even finish his insult. 

“I know, I know. And I did look for other people. But they all failed. And..not to be melodramatic, but you’re kind of my last resort.” 

Pico frowned and rolled his eyes. “Fine, but this is it. After this, I’m done with you, forever. You better fuckin’ delete my number once you pay me.” 

“Of course. I’ll be paying you 80 grand, if that’s fine with you?” Woah. 80???? This person must be crazy dangerous, then. But Pico would survive. He always did. 

“For sure. Just gimme the time and location, and we’re done.” 

“Ah, I’ll be needing you now.” Now? Man, who was this guy, if they seemed to be proving such a threat that they needed to be killed immediately? Pico tsked, as if he was thinking about it, even though he was already looking for any extra guns to bring. He was not going to turn down an offer like this. 

“Sure, fine, but you better boost my pay up for this. I have a life, you know.” Hah. As if. Maybe he did have one, almost two months ago, but now all he did was go outside and walk mindlessly, or lie on his bed for several hours at a time. 

He heard a sigh on the other end. “Fine. I’ll send you the coordinates now.” Pico’s phone instantly binged, and he was almost impressed by how quickly the message had been sent. 

“Alright, if that’s all, then I’ll call you back innnn..” he took a pause as if he was checking a watch. “Three hours.”

He heard a breath of relief. “Thank you, Pico. You won’t regret this.” The client then hung up. Regardless, Pico muttered to himself. “I probably will.” 

Pico stared at his phone, the gps being absolutely stupid. He groaned in annoyance as the app lagged out again, shutting his phone off for the fifth time. Just peachy. He had been pretty close to the destination anyway, and he had received another message describing the appearance of his target. There were a couple of photos, but they weren’t too helpful, just a lot of bright colours. And the only description he got was “looks dumb, but isn’t”. Whatever that meant. 

He looked around him. It was evening, the usual time that he goes outside. Barely any people were outside, and he was approaching the very suspicious area of the city. Not an unusual place to have to kill someone. 

As he passed an alleyway, a glimpse of neon caught him off guard. He backtracked, peering over the corner, and saw the neon that he had noticed. 

A man wearing ridiculously bright clothing was lying on the ground, his legs and skull smashed in. There was an insane amount of blood around him. Well, he looked pretty stupid. He dumbly stepped forward, observing the body, to make sure that this was the guy he was looking for. He was clutching a gun, and a knife was poking out of his pocket. Yep, this has got to be him. 

Pico wondered what had happened to him, or more specifically, who had killed the guy for him. He decided not to dwell on it, he gets money for doing nothing. His phone finally turned on again, and he moved around, trying to get a better angle as he took a picture to send to his client. 

He knew he was being an idiot for getting so close, but Pico didn’t care. This was 80 fucking thousand dollars, and he had to get the money. He sent the photo to his client, and took his gun out. This kill was recent. Practically none of the blood was dried, and the man’s stupid clothing was still soaked. 

He heard movement behind him. Pico scowled, he had been hoping that he wouldn’t have to fight someone anyway. He whipped around, and saw nothing there. He wanted to just wave it off as his voices, but all his instincts were telling him that something wasn’t right. 

The hitman made his way out of the alleyway as quickly as he could, but right before he exited the dirty shithole, he heard a laugh. As soon as he tried to process where the sound was coming from, the air was knocked out of him. What the fuck?? Where did that come from? 

The person attacking him was a blur of black and red, and he shot at them several times. Two of his three shots hit, one on the arm, and one on the leg. But their movements didn’t slow. They charged him, and he dropped his gun, clattering several feet away from both of them. He could barely even see the person, considering how dark it had become, and how fast they were moving. He got a good crack on their jaw, but no matter how hard he hit, they hit harder. His nose was bleeding, and he was pretty sure one of his ribs was cracked.

He managed to get the upper hand, forcing the other below him, but as soon as he saw their face, he faltered. 

That was a mistake. 

Cassandra grinned up at him, and smashed his head into a wall. 

 Pico woke up unbound, sitting in a darkened room. The only thing that held him up was the wall behind him. He gripped his head and groaned in pain. He had a concussion for sure. His hair was sticky and clumped up, probably from blood. 

He had to get used to the throbbing pain in his skull before even thinking about how he got there. He had been hired to kill someone. They had horrible clothes, and was dead when Pico got to him. Pico got a picture of the corpse and sent it to his client, before he was attacked. And he had seen who it had been. He gasped, a sharp pain attacking his side. Yep, ribs were definitely broken. 

“Hi.” 

The lights in the room were suddenly turned on, and he could see he was in a rather unsatisfactory place. And that was saying something, considering how and where he lived. He blinked several times, trying to adjust to the light. He saw Cassandra standing in front of him, and her face looked almost normal. Her hair was still as spiked as ever, looking even more like devil horns. Her clothes were slightly bloodied, and there was dried blood on her mouth. Probably from where he had shot and hit her. They didn’t seem to affect her much, as she looked just fine and dandy. 

“Y-you’re-”

“Dead? Nope, you just shot me in the dick a lot.” She grinned at him. “It felt like I was dead, too. Didn’t know having a penis can hurt so much.” 

He almost laughed, before realizing he was talking to fucking Cassandra. The stupid bitch who messed up his entire life. 

“What do you want.” 

“Revenge. I didn’t really like getting shot so much, so I may as well return the favour.” She approached him, and he tried to move back, but couldn’t. Because of the wall, and also because it hurt too much to move. His brain rattled in his skull, and it hurt like hell. 

“I shot you..” his breathing was laboured. “Because you shot everybody else. You fucked me up. I should be the one going after you, not the other way around.” 

She pouted at him, but then smiled wickedly. “Well, maybe I just wanna hurt you to hurt you. We can leave it at that, yeah?” She slowly took something out of her pocket. It was the knife of the dead stupid guy. 

“Why so you hate me so much.” Pico couldn’t properly make his vocal cords make a question mark. 

“Because you messed up my plan. That wasn’t really nice of you.” Cassandra said nonchalantly, crouching beside him. She took his face, and tilted it around, as if observing him. “Y’know, you don’t look half bad. Little me had good taste.” 

Pico scowled at her. “We were in fucking grade school. Sorry for trying to live and all that shit.” 

Cassandra booped his nose. Why was she acting like this was all some game? “I let you live, Pico, remember? I was planning on killing anybody who’d get in my way, just so that I could be with you. I honestly didn’t expect you to kill all my cronies, and to even almost kill me.” She pressed the knife up to the top of his left eye. “How much did I mess you up, huh? On a scale of one to ten.” 

He hated her so much. 

“You ruined my life. Where do you think that would be on the scale?” 

“I’d say about an 8. A 10 would have been you killing yourself.” She cut his skin. 

He winced. “You think I didn’t try? I couldn’t bring myself to, no matter how many nooses I tied.” 

“Because you’ve been waiting this whole time for me to arrive. You didn’t want me to kill your oh so precious friends.” She snickered, not moving the knife. She seemed to be intrigued by their conversation. “And you thought it was just your anxiety, your voices telling you this. You thought you knew I was dead, but deep down inside, you knew I was alive. And here I am! Just the two of us now~” Her voice was singsong sweet, and she removed the knife. “You know, I think I still have a crush on you. Maybe not huge, but I’d like to kiss you right now.” 

“Fuck you.” He spat at her. She wiped it off her face, only looking more smug than before. 

“You like meeee, don’t you? You’ve missed me all this time. I was the only thing that made your life exciting. You’ve been killing more people, trying to find that spark that you had all those years ago, but it’s no use, is it? Because you missed me.” 

Pico glowered at her. “You wish. I’d blow your brains out right now if I still had my uzi.” She gripped his face, her hold tight. 

“Would you? I dunno, Pico, I don’t think you hate me as much as you did before.” She traced his face with the knife. “And you know what? I think I’ll be the last thing you ever see.” She giggled at him. “I’m gonna be all you’ll remember.” Her voice was sickeningly sweet, and Pico’s stomach flipped around. Last thing he’ll ever see? No. She wouldn’t. 

She did. 

She inserted the knife back in the small cut, and slowly dug deeper. 

“I wanna hear you scream.” 

Pain. Red. The smell of copper. Cries of agony. 

Her face. 

Those were the last things he experienced before he passed out again.