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Party Poison was alone when the radio crackled to life. It was an ordinary afternoon in the Zones, Kobra Kid was out on his motorbike somewhere, Jet Star was playing with the Girl, getting ready for her nap, and Fun Ghoul was….exploding things, they assumed. Given the loud bangs from out back, it seemed likely. Poison themself was just trying to read a magazine in peace, feet propped up on one of the diner tables, but that was not to be.
They sighed and reached for the radio. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Cherri Cola’s voice crackled through. He sounded tense, which put them on edge.
“What’s up, Pepsi?”
“Uh, well, you know how that one time, Ghoul said I was like a knight in shining armor? Right, well, I could kind of use a knight in shining armor right now.”
Poison could see that it definitely wasn’t going to be a peaceful afternoon for them. “What the fuck did you get yourself into?”
“Nothing- nothing in particular. I would just really not prefer to be alone at the radio station today, and everyone else is off doing varying things.” His voice had grown even more strained, sounding close to breaking.
“Fuck’s sake, Pepsi.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Trust me, if I could have asked anyone else for help, I wouldn’t have put this on a teenager’s shoulders.”
“Fuck off, I’m perfectly competent.” They sighed. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Thank you, Poison.”
Poison swung their feet off the table, pulling their boots and jacket on at the door. “Jet, I’m heading down to the radio station!”
“Okay!” Jet Star called back from the back of the diner. “What for?”
“Cola needs something!”
“Okay! Be safe!”
“I will!” They kicked open the door, shutting it behind them as another explosion sounded from behind the building and Jet shouted something about ‘you woke the Girl up, I just got her to sleep!’. They really had to talk to Ghoul about setting off bombs during naptime. Making a note to do that when they got back, Party climbed into the Trans Am and turned the keys.
“Alright, let’s go see what the fuck he needs, huh, old girl?” The car obediently revved to life, and Poison took them down the roads at frankly irresponsible speed. Not that they had ever given a fuck about being responsible in the first place, not unless it came to their crew’s safety.
Party Poison arrived at the radio shack and kicked the door open with exactly as much grace as they had when kicking the diner door open. “Alright, Pepsi, I’m here!”
“Hey, Poison.” The reply was quiet, and they had to look around further before they located Cherri Cola, sitting on the floor against the sofa. A knife was clutched in his right hand, and they thought they could see blood on his arms, dripping down onto the already stained floor.
“What the fuck? Destroya, Cola!”
Cherri’s eyes were shut tight. “I’m sorry. Please take the knife before I end up doing something stupid.”
“Stupider than this?”
“Stupider as in cutting my fucking throat, Poison.”
“Fuck.” They hurried across the room to wrestle the knife out of his hand, wishing they had made Jet come with them. Jet was actually good at this kind of thing. Thank the Witch, Cherri let go of the knife fairly easily- Poison was pretty sure he would have been able to keep a hold of it if he really tried. They folded the blade away and quickly tucked it into their jacket pocket, wondering if they should bother to check him for other weapons. “Do you have any more knives?”
Cola shook his head, and Poison settled next to him.
“Okay, so why do you want to slit your fucking throat?”
He shrugged.
“I don’t know what that means.”
Cherri mumbled something they strained to catch.
“What?”
“Just happens sometimes,” he repeated, a little louder.
“Just wake up and want to die?” The feeling was strangely (and sadly) familiar.
“Yeah. I’ve seen a lot of shit, Pois. Killed a lot of people. I know I act like I’m well-adjusted, but I’ve never been well-adjusted.”
They bristled a little at the nickname, but now wasn’t exactly the time to say anything about it. “We’ve all killed a lot of people, Cola.”
He shrugged a second time. “I guess it gets to me more than you guys.”
Silence settled over the two killjoys for a few moments before Cherri broke it again.
“I knew an exterminator, you know.”
“What?”
“Before the war. She was good at origami, and she liked soda, but only if it was cherry flavored, and chewed bubblegum whenever possible. She had a ring she never took off, our grandma gave it to her. Her eyes were clear blue like the sky.”
“So you knew an exterminator.”
“And I killed her.” Cherri’s voice was very straightforward. “I killed her, not because I wanted to, but because we were on opposite sides and I had no choice.”
“Fuck,” They swore. “That’s rough.”
“Yeah. It’s a truth I learned pretty young: people die in war. Not for any reason, not because they’re bad people or because they deserved to die. Simply because they were there. Because they were forced into fighting, because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, because they were trying to make the world a better place. People die because they’re trying to save their friends or their love. Because they want to make the world better for their children. And those children die too, because they’re children in the wrong place at the wrong time. Because they can’t defend themselves.” His voice was shaking, nails digging into his arms.
Poison swore under their breath and pulled his hands away to reveal another set of crescent marks, adding to the many already there. “Fuck’s sake. Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this.”
“I’m open to other suggestions,” Cherri muttered.
They almost snorted. “Well, Cola, pleased to announce you’re going to be just fine, seeing as you’re being a snarky bastard again.”
That got a tiny laugh out of him. “Am I ever not a snarky bastard, in your opinion?”
“When-“ Poison hesitated briefly. “When shit really hits the fan, you’re not. So when you’re being snarky, I know shit’s going to be fine.”
“I wouldn’t use me as an indicator.”
“Eh, you’re a decent one. Canary in a coal mine and all that. I think canaries are a brighter yellow than you, though. Probably better fashion sense, too.” They hardly knew what they were saying, only that they had to find something to talk about.
Cherri gave them a glare for their trouble, if not a very harsh one. “Now you’re the one being a snarky bastard.”
“Uh-huh, but where’s the fun in not being one? Plus, my brilliant plan worked.” Party shot him a small smile. “I’ve distracted you.”
Cherri looked exhausted as he leaned back a bit further, running his hands along his bloody arms, but he was giving them a tired smile. “Sure did.”
“See, I’m a genius.” They climbed to their feet and offered him a hand up, trying to think of what Jet would say. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hey?”
“’kay.”
His hands were bloody and rough, the blood sticking to Poison’s own hands as they pulled him to his feet, but they didn’t say anything about it. Instead, they led him over to the sink of the radio station so they could pour some precious water over his arms, sluicing them clean. They cleaned out the deeper scratches with some sort of foul-smelling disinfectant from the radio shack’s first aid kit and bandaged them up, chattering the entire time.
It was meaningless stuff, rambles about Ghoul blowing shit up during naptime and Kobra’s latest antics on the racetrack, but it was a way to fill the silence, which seemed almost crushing. So Poison unleashed all of it, every update about the Girl and her lessons (“-and Jet has her painting beads!”), every random story they hadn’t told him (“-so that was how we almost ended up with no car and a bucket filled with slime-“) and a few they had (“-then Kobra, dumbass that he is, says ‘it will be fine if I touch these wires!’”).
All their efforts were rewarded by another small, fragile smile from Cola, just barely reaching his sea-blue eyes. It was tiny, but it was real, and Poison had never been so grateful for the endless amount of stupid shit their friends got up to.
They stuck on a final band-aid and closed the kit, glancing over at him as they tucked it away. “So I’m assuming it wouldn’t be cool of me to just abandon you.”
“Not really, no.”
Poison tried to pretend the shakiness of his voice didn’t affect them at all. “So do you want me to stay here until the rest get back? Or should I bring you on over to the diner so the chaos crew can dogpile you into a good afternoon?”
“You’re part of the chaos crew, I hope you know that.” Cherri fiddled with some of the bandages and Poison pulled his hand away. “D’s at his safehouse in Zone 2, he was worried about Better Living tracing the signal back here. Pony went with him, Newsie’s out somewhere and I don’t know if she’s coming back tonight or tomorrow.”
“Alright, lets go back to the diner, then. You can stay a night, you’re not that insufferable.” They tried to sound like they really didn’t care. “Kobes will be happy about it, at least.”
“Thank you, Party.”
“Of course, Pepsi.”
It felt weird to be in a car with Cola and be the one driving- most often when they were stuck together, Cola was giving them a ride or they were on a run together using Cola’s truck. But now, Poison was sitting in their usual spot in the Trans Am, and Cherri had climbed into shotgun. Mad Gear was what was blaring from their speakers as they blazed across the desert, knowing Cherri could handle whatever speed they drove. Indeed, he seemed unbothered, staring quietly out the window. Poison mostly ignored him, glancing over occasionally to see if he was okay.
When they pulled up to the diner, it appeared that Ghoul was still testing out explosives (or possibly fireworks), given the bangs from behind. Cherri flinched at each one, and Poison stuck their head around the back.
“Ghoul! Asshole! Stop it!”
“Why?”
“The Girl’s trying to sleep!”
“Ah fuck, sorry, Pois.” Xe pushed xyr hair out of his face as xe came around the side of the diner. “Oh hey, Cola!”
“Hey, Ghoul.”
Poison shot Ghoul a warning glare as he opened his mouth again, and xe quickly shut it. “Cola’s going to be staying with us this afternoon, maybe tonight too.”
“Alright. Any particular reason?”
They almost groaned. Ghoul somehow always had awful timing. “Uh. You know. He gets lonely when everyone abandons him at the radio station.” It was a terrible lie, but Cherri shot them a grateful smile that almost made Ghoul’s skeptical look worth it.
Thank the Witch, xe was smart enough not to question further. “Okay. Guess we’re heading in, then, if I can’t explode shit?”
Poison nodded to them and led the others inside, looking around. It appeared Kobra had arrived back while they were gone, given that he was lounging in Poison’s usual seat, reading the magazine they had set down. Poison spared a moment to flip him off before peeking into the back to find Jet. They were sitting in his and Poison’s bedroom, humming gently under their breath as the Girl snoozed next to them.
“Hey, Jet.”
Jet looked up, putting a finger to their lips in a shh as they spoke very quietly. “Hey, Pois. Back from the radio station?”
“Yeah.”
“What did Cola need?”
“Long story.” They glanced back at the door to make sure that the rest of the Four (plus Cherri) were still in the main room of the diner before deciding how much to reveal to Jet. “He needed me to make sure he didn’t do anything dumb.”
That was all they needed to say for the other to understand. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, but he has to stay with us today.”
“For the same reason?”
“Wasn’t a smart idea to leave him back at the station alone.”
Jet nodded. “Did you leave him with Kobra and Ghoul?”
“Fuck, I did. I’m…sure he kept them from getting in trouble.”
Jet and Poison wandered back out to find Kobra laying across the table, calling commentary across the room as Ghoul attempted to get some of the power pup off one of the highest shelves and Cherri watched with great concern.
“This is why we can’t leave you alone,” Jet sighed. “Hi, Cherri.”
“Hey, Jet. Uh, Ghoul decided xe should make dinner, I guess.”
“It’s almost dinnertime anyways! I’m making fancy shit!”
Jet rolled their eyes, but they were smiling as Poison turned to Kobra. “And what are you doing, fuckface?”
“Talking to Cola, bastard.”
“We’re siblings, you idiot, if I’m a bastard then so are you.”
Kobra flipped them off most eloquently, and Poison just laughed as they turned to Cola. “These idiots driving you crazy?”
“No, I love them.”
“Bad taste.” They laughed at Ghoul’s face. “I’m kidding, you’re the best crew. Now everyone shut up, I have to show Cola my rendition of Toxic.”
“The Girl is napping!”
Cherri laughed quietly. “Thank you, kids.”
“Sure thing!”
“We’re not kids!”
“Of course, we love you.”
“Yeah, love you, Pepsi!”
Cherri Cola stayed with them once again, this time in the graffiti-covered diner. He ate dinner with them, and the Girl sat in his lap quite happily. Ghoul and Party cracked stupid jokes back and forth until his smile wasn’t quite so fragile, trading stories about dumb shit they’d done even though half of those stories involved each other. Jet gave him a big hug, and Kobra sat down to talk with him after dinner, until finally everyone was settling down for the night. Ghoul half-jokingly suggested he sleep in one of the booths, and Cherri laughed and said he was a little old for that but ended up curled in the old chair they had salvaged a few months back anyways. Poison made sure he was safely asleep before they went to bed themself, and they were there from the moment he radioed to the moment they dropped him back off at the radio shack to a yawning Newsie who had driven through the night to get back home.