Chapter Text
Everything Will had ever wanted was now at his fingertips. The same patch of carpet he puffed out his chest over the day before was now dead silent, save for its pale and dry rising and falling. His horn, and by extension his plastic body, still sort of ached, not really throbbing anymore, but just enough to annoy him. One dickwad underneath his skin was one thing, but a planet’s worth of them was another. What’s worse, whether she knew it or not, he’d built his life around Jett, but all she’d done at arm’s length so far was put him down and fuck him over. It was a weird, weird gut feeling, raw and palpable, like his chest was being smashed in.
The light spilling in from the hall through his hollow, dark, new room, avoided even by the moon, was just bright enough to let his eyes flick to the small razor by his thigh. The light appeared speckled on its jagged edge. He picked it up, but didn’t do much at all, he just cursorily fiddled with it in his hooves before settling it back down. The hot, yellow tint it had was sickening, but he couldn’t really push himself to close his door, not even the ones to the closet. He wasn’t sure if he wanted someone to find him. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted anyone to see him at all.
He pulled up his pant leg and drew a soft clink from the metal for each tap he made with his hoof. Was he calling for someone? Maybe, maybe not. He half hoped someone would come running. It didn’t matter how well they knew him. Archie, maybe, possibly Modo, or maybe even Jett, if he was desperate enough. Refocusing on the reality, he caught himself tapping to a certain rhythm. Sickening. But they all seemed to love it, he thought, so they shouldn’t mind, and so he shouldn’t see any shadows fall. He tugged the hem another inch up and just sat there staring at it. This is surreal. It’s awful, it’s like falling off a ladder that takes your whole life to climb. It is. Before he could process another thought, the lukewarm steel licked his fur. Not pressed very hard, no, more like you’d swipe a credit card. What a coward.
It was funny, the way he thought it was over, how happy he felt the day before. He swore to himself Mom’s remembrance day would be the last time. And he meant it, he really did, but they just aligned poorly, he supposed. God, if she could see him now, his will as weak as his flesh, he’d have royally let her down. The mixing wasn’t even halfway decent, goddamnit.
When his head came back above water, the fur on his leg was hot and raw, and his jersey was a spotty wet. And then he heard her again.
“Keys?” It was closer, much closer, than he was comfortable with. “Anyone seen my keys?” His chest tightened as the hall began to darken. There wasn’t nearly enough room in the jail he’d built for himself to tuck into a corner, at least not in time, and so without a second thought, he slammed the closet door shut. It was a sucky decision, but at least some part of him would get some peace. “Don’t you—” she spat into the dark, scampering in on all fours like it was a second court. “If you’re doing what I think you’re doing…!” She trailed off as she damn near ripped the door off its hinges.
He sort of nodded off. When his eyes recentered, she was tucked into the opposite corner. Jett looked kind of funny, the way her arms had to fold onto her chest. She had her claw sticking through the hole in the steel sheet.
“I was like that when I was your age, too,” she began. It sort of slapped him in the face.
“Really?”
“Really.” They focused on the carpet for a moment.
“You don’t have anything else to say?” It came out more accusatory than he wanted.
“I’m just surprised.” She spun it once. “You don’t look the type.”
“Nobody does. I just…” Jett tipped it off her finger.
“You just *what*?”
“It’s… I just, um, don’t… I don’t like so many eyes on me, I guess I would say.”
“…Right…” She fiddled with it back and forth. “I can relate, to some extent.” She narrowed her eyes. “That’s all?”
“Can I, um, ask you something?” He didn’t wait for an answer, himself avoiding the last. “What makes you tick? What makes you do what you do?
“Well… wow. I want to… let’s put it this way, people tell me I’m being worn down. It’s Flo, it’s the tunnel, and it’s people on the street, you’ve seen it all.”
“So you… you live for yourself.”
“No, I want to prove it to *them*… in a way.” It wasn’t in a way. She really meant it.
“It’s still proving yourself.”
“Yes, but—”
“And you don’t like to share the ball, either, I’ve noticed,” he spilled. “And you’re so *busy* proving yourself you won’t let me onto the court.”
“So who is this about, me or you? Everything you’ve said, is it all meant to add up to something?
“I’ll get there when I get there.”
“Don’t—” Her slitted eyes landed back on the metal when it momentarily shot the light back into her eyes. “Then… tell me, kid, what are you doing with this?”
“It’s almost funny. I’ve always wanted to be here. To be like you . I spent my whole life working for it. Just not like this. I’ve miscalculated, maybe that’s what.” He weightlessly crossed his legs. “But I still want to see everyone. I want to bring them something nice. This isn’t that, and I feel like I’ve failed.”
“Then you live for everyone else… wouldn’t you say?”
“Maybe.”
“Hmph.” She flicked the jagged thing across the floor. “You’re stronger than I was at your age. “To tell you the truth…” She started, distantly choking up, “…Not to get into it, but I didn’t, hm, have the right body for roarball when I was in high school, either. But I wasn’t in front of a stadium.
“We could be alike in that way, don’t you think?”
“We could be.”
“And maybe that’s why you stayed to talk.”
“Oh, please, you think I’m that evil?” Her face began to lighten.
“Well, you don’t *like* me, do you?”
“I think… I think I’ll come around. I’m sorry I’ve been so Jett to you.”
“It’s okay. You know, I heard once, maybe I read it, that a virtue exists between two vices. Like there’s cowardice, and there’s audacity, and there’s courage between them.”
“I think that’s true. And maybe there’s something about that to be said for us.”
“Then it’s something we can work towards. Living not for ourselves, not for everyone, but for who we care about the most.” He put his feet flat once more. “So you’ll pass the ball next time, yeah?”
“Don’t bet on it.”
By now, the pink sun shone on the walls in smooth waves, and it worked with the returning light in both sets of eyes. They rose, the panther careful not to crash against the ceiling. It didn’t pan out, with how she rubbed the top of her silky head. With cold legs, Will shot the stupid thing into the trash can on the other side of the room.
“From the logo.”
“I’d stay away from Modo until those close up, if I were you. It’ll be a pain in the ass if his drool gets in there, you know it will somehow, if he doesn’t go and bite the whole thing off.”