33 Apocalypse Ave, Sunday morning

[existencemisspent]

Eliot had . . . self-medicated the evening away after Jon had left. Wondering if Margo was trapped in the nightmare house that the police guy and his weird boyfriends had picked as their fourth or whatever, or if she’d seen a chance to go home and taken it without him or — some other option that his self-pity wouldn’t let him see right now. Because if she was in the nightmare house, he was too chicken shit to go look for her. And if she ditched him . . . well, he deserved that, right? For being the sort of asshole who ended up in the nightmare house in the first place.

So, you know. Woe was him. Weeping and gnashing of teeth and all that.

This morning found him passed out on the couch, the detritus of his evening scattered around him. Not even an inappropriate sexual partner around to boost his morale upon waking.

Woe was him indeed.

[expecting one and will be slooooooooooow]

Comments

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

And again, Margo had been standing around, just doing her own thing contemplating the loss of their group’s sexiest brooding loner, and– poof.

Flash?

Some kind of noise, anyway. A lot of weird colors, kind of like looking straight through a bubble or something. Then the bubble popped, and Margo, her hot Fillorian Queen dress, her two axes, and no waraxe came royally crashing down into the center of the living room.

[existencemisspent]

Eliot startled awake, clutching a throw pillow. “No, Q!” he yelled. “Not the asparagus!”

He would never remember the dream he was having that prompted that exclamation.

He peered blearily at Margo. “Bambi?”

Oh. That was pathetically hopeful. It left a terrible taste in his mouth.

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

Margo blinked at him comically for a time or… five (please be kind and said it was two).

Somehow, the first thing that came out of her mouth wasn’t ‘yes’ or ‘hi’ or ‘where have you been?!’.

“Penny’s dead.”

[existencemisspent]

Eliot gaped at her for a moment or two (or seven, they were on the same level here). Then he lurched to his feet.

"You were home?"

Without him?

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“I got portal-napped right off that shithole shack’s front porch,” Margo said, her eye still wide. “How long has it been?!”

[existencemisspent]

"I got let out of that shithole shack yesterday," Eliot said. Then he reached for her, because she was here, she was back, and she wasn't trapped in a nightmare and hadn't abandoned him!

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“It’s been weeks,” Margo said. Her voice cracked, and her arms wound around Eliot tight as she got up and immediately pressed herself against his chest. “--Fucking fairies--”

[existencemisspent]

Eliot’s own noise of disgust reflected the nightmare fairies he’d been stalked by in the house.

Not that he’d get into that when he had Margo’s pain and distress to focus on instead.

“They’re the worst,” he agreed instead. “Are they, did they kill Penny?”

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“No, we just got a bunny,” Margo mumbled. “I guess somebody thought that was enough bullshit for now.”

[existencemisspent]

“A bunny,” Eliot echoed. “So . . . no details, then.”

He could imagine too many horrible fates for Penny. Who was a dick, but he was a useful dick. An entertaining dick. Those were few and far between.

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“No,” Margo said into his chest. She sounded stuffy, like something got stuck in her throat. “I always thought we’d at least have one stupid, bad-idea backroom hook-up, you know?”