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6- WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN IT'S A SIN (THAT I THREW IT ALL AWAY)
What do you even like about him?
He’s mean to you, and he’s a mess. One minute he’s bouncing, dancing and singing Bowie around in his stupid red boa, the other he’s getting all kinds of crazy pissed off at some kids because they didn't have the guts to shoot a cat who -according to him- is a spy. He throws himself into danger as if the consequences couldn't even touch him, endangering everyone else around him as well. Sometimes it seems like he doesn't even care if he lives to see another day. That all his actions are just a crash waiting to happen. You're not even sure if he believes in anything other than chaos for its own sake.
But then he grins at you when you do something that clicks with him, in a way that makes you feel like you just took a hit of something powerful. And when you catch him swaying his hips smugly at his reflection in a shop window, and then five minutes later gunning down enemies with the face of a beast, you find it so hard to understand him that you begin to burn with desire. And your heart hurts in a soft way when you see him suffering for every perfect stranger whose death he witnesses. Or for how despite all the chaos that his life is, he always finds a way to visit the letterbox and leave a prayer for them.
He's an inexplicable mess and you're a stupid city boy who can’t look away.
So, get your shit together, Ghoul, because you’re about to see him at his worst and you need to help him out of it. Somehow managing to hide how fucking lost you are.
“Ready?” Cola was waiting by the door with his usual patient smile. Ghoul had been silent in his thoughts for an alarming amount of time.
“Uh, yeah.” He snapped out of it and took a deep breath. “Could you, like, quickly recap everything you just said?”
Cola laughed. “I just need you to keep an eye on him while I take a nap. It’s better he has company, today.”
“Is he okay? Like, physically?”
“He may get a fever, but you don't have to worry about it. Just, keep his mind on the good side.”
Cola’s wisdom on the matter was clearly more than just theoretical knowledge, and Ghoul felt sorry for him. He was so fucking young but his face, when he talked about these things, couldn’t hide some level of melancholy. It couldn’t hide the fact he’d have a couple stories to tell about himself, even if he never did.
Ghoul nodded.
“I’ll be at Neve’s, just across the street. If you need anything, come find me anytime.” He smiled again, in that bittersweet way of his, then he left, yawning.
Okay, be cool. Be your regular self.
You haven’t seen him in two weeks. It felt like a lifetime- which is why you had your whole epiphany and everything. But nothing changed, out of your mind. So just-
“Shut the fucking door, Ghoul.”
Of course, he couldn’t have changed in just two weeks.
“The light is coming straight in my eyes and it sucks.”
Ghoul sighed and closed the door behind him. The room was pitch dark, at first. All he could get from the dim light coming in through the window, as soon as his eyes adapted, was that Poison had hidden his head under a blanket.
Ghoul giggled at that scene.
“Hey,” he attempted, but his voice came out weird and artificial and he had to clear his throat. “Long time no see.”
Poison didn’t answer.
Ghoul moved to sit on a chair that was on the other side of the room. He had brought a book with him since Cola said he would have to spend a lot of time just waiting for Poison to fall asleep. But just when he had opened it, Poison spoke.
“You can’t look at me. I look like shit.”
Ghoul sighed and, still looking at the book said, “I wasn’t even trying to. I’ll just be here minding my business.” After a small pause, he added, “But I’m sure you’re not that bad.”
“You’re wrong, as usual.”
Hearing Poison’s voice after so long made Ghoul smile at his book. He hadn’t realized ‘til then how much was missing from his surroundings, how more silent everything was, when he wasn’t around.
“I bet you’re dying to see me like this, you sadist motherfucker.”
“I’m not,” sighed Ghoul. “I’m just here because Cola deserves a rest from being a saint. I promise I won’t even look up from my book.”
But Poison moved the blanket away, then, and Ghoul couldn’t help his eyes from breaking that promise, looking up for just one brief moment.
The room was dark, but he could still glimpse Poison’s hollowed cheeks and the mess of his hair. He looked like a stray animal.
Ghoul didn’t really know the scope of Poison’s problems. Since he had joined the group in the zones, he quietly observed how from time to time something would be off about him. Plus, he figured his mood swings and all the different personalities that came out of him couldn’t be just from his character, especially since Kobra would secretly keep a vigilant eye on him with a serious, worried face anytime he was acting up. But nobody ever told Ghoul what was really going on, and he never dared asking.
“Just kidding, don’t give a shit. I’m still hot.” Poison turned around on his side, giving his back to Ghoul, and hugged himself. “Goodnight babyface.”
“Goodnight,” replied Ghoul. He looked up once again. He could make out Poison’s silhouette on the white sheets. He had gotten so skinny you could see his bones. Also, he looked like he was shaking a little.
“I’m kinda cold in here,” Ghoul said. “Mind if I close the window?”
“If you want,” said Poison. “I don’t care.”
But Ghoul could see how he relaxed, once the night breeze was done chasing him.
***
“Jet?”
Kobra knocked on the closet-turned-lab’s door, but nobody answered.
He knocked again. “Are you still in there?”
Jet appeared at the door some minute later. He had crazy hair and exhausted eyes, which made Kobra snort out a laugh.
“What?!” laughed Jet, keeping his voice low. “It was only five minutes. Riot’s been sleeping since she stepped in here.”
“Are you done?”
“No, but I really need a rest.”
They sank into the leather seats they had gathered to resemble a couch.
Jet sighed, stretching out his legs and letting his head fall back. “Why’re you up?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
Jet raised his head and bended forward to look at Kobra. “Are you worried? About him?”
“Not really,” Kobra reflected on it for a while. Then said, “I’m feeling low, that’s all.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” said Jet diplomatically. “I think you’re feeling low because you’re worried.” He put one hand on Kobra’s shoulder. “You can talk to me, you know.”
Kobra attempted one of his smiles, but those were often sadder than any sad expression.
“What if we find him too late next time?” he said, looking down. His voice was barely audible.
“There won’t be a next time, Kid.” Jet pushed a little on his shoulder, to let him feel he was there. “We’re not letting him back there.”
Kobra sighed and looked at the ceiling. “You gotta be realistic, Ray.” He sounded like saying those words was painful for him. “He can find a way to achieve what he wants anywhere, you know.”
“It doesn’t need to be like that,” Jet protested. “He doesn’t need to feel that way.”
Kobra looked down to cross Jet’s sight, then, and his eyes were red and watery. “If he ever goes, I-“He looked down at his feet, then. “I get him, sometimes. Because if he ever goes, I don’t think I’d make it. I think I wouldn’t be any better.”
“But he has you,” said Jet, confidently, stroking Kobra’s shoulder. “You’re a good enough reason to stop doing stupid shit.”
Kobra sighed, again, and rested his back on the seat, looking up, then at Jet. His face was clearly asking him to keep talking, so Jet did.
“This is not your fault, Mikey. Write it on your hand or something. Not-your-fault.”
Kobra smiled, and it seemed less sad this time. They stood in silence, for a while.
Then Kobra sat back up straight, in a sudden jump. “Let’s make a bet,” he said.
Jet frowned. He needed to meet Kobra’s eyes to get what he could be talking about all of a sudden and-
“Oh no, please no,” he said, as soon as he could see the smirk on Kobra’s face. “Gross.”
Jet tried to cover his ears with his hands, but he still could hear Kobra’s laugh and the amusement in his tone when he said,
“How long ‘til they’re fucking?”
“Kobra!” he shook his hands like he had just touched piss or something.
Kobra went crazy for the way Jet acted when anyone talked about adult topics, as he referred to anything about sex. It made him look like one of those outraged prudish ladies in the old movies. That’s why he always brought up the matter when he needed a good laugh.
“We both know what Poison does whenever his ego needs some reinforcement- “
“Shut up,” Jet kept looking ahead and closing his ears. “Don’t wanna think about it.”
“And Ghoul is so begging him to crush his heart, it’s just painful to watch at this point.”
Jet frowned. “How do you even know about these things? Do you, like, actually read minds?”
“Wait, you’re telling me you never noticed?”
“Sorry, I don’t usually spend my time thinking about my friends being hot for each other. Ugh.”
“Right,” Kobra raised his eyebrows and tapped on Jet’s head. “You have actual useful thoughts in that brain of yours. Can’t relate.”
“Are you okay with it? I mean, don’t you think it can go super wrong?”
“Oh, it’s gonna be a tragedy. But it’s inevitable, so.” Kobra shrugged. “Better get ready for it.”
***
Poison fell asleep fairly quickly. For what Cola had told him, Ghoul believed he would have to, like, force him to stay in bed or something. Instead, it only took a few minutes for him to curl up on his side and collapse.
It’s not like Ghoul was fresh and rested, so he couldn’t help his head from falling back on the wall and sleep too, immediately after, with the book still open on his legs. It was impossible to read in that dark, anyway.
But then, after a while, he felt something weird. Something touching his head? He kept sleeping at first, he was so tired his brain just deemed that feeling like not important enough to wake up, like it must be a weird dream or something. But then it started pulling his fucking hair, not violently, but strong enough to make it impossible not to address it.
So Ghoul opened his eyes, frowning, and it took a few moments for his brain to elaborate the scene.
Poison was standing by his side and was doing something with his hair.
He turned his head to better look and saw him inspecting some locks with a concentrated face. “What the- “
“Good morning,” he said, brightly. “I think you should dye your hair.”
Ghoul yawned and closed his eyes back, leaning on the wall again. “Too early, sleep some more.” His voice trailed off like he was already falling back asleep.
“I can’t, there’s light outside already. How do you feel about green?” Poison kept moving his hair around and it was so insistent that Ghoul had to resign to the fact he would never stop until he woke up.
So, he let out an annoyed growl and stretched before opening his eyes again.
He had a serious face when he said “Never.”
“But it would be so cool,” insisted Poison. “Don’t you wanna be less boring?”
“I’ll never bleach my hair,” said Ghoul, “It took so long to grow it back.” Then his stomach growled, badly, and he announced, “I’ll go see if I find some breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry,” said Poison.
“Well, I am, and you need to eat something anyway.” He stood up to leave, but Poison called behind him.
“Can you get the razor and my dyes? It should be in the cabinet by the sink, the small one.”
“In the mood for a makeover?” Joked Ghoul as he was by the door.
“In the need for one. I need to get my shine back.”
Ghoul nodded and smiled as he left the room. Like you could ever lose your shine, fucker.
It took him a while to find something to eat. He didn’t want to wake Cola up, still, and he knew they had some food left at the diner. Plus, Poison would definitely yell at him if he didn’t come back with the things he asked.
He was by the kitchen when he noticed Kobra and Jet had fallen asleep on the couch, in a position that looked oddly well balanced: Kobra resting his head on Jet’s, that was resting on Kobra’s shoulder. That made Ghoul giggle. He did his best to collect everything and leave without waking them up.
When he was back at Cola’s it was still early, but the sun was already high enough to reveal what a boiling hot day that would be.
He opened the door to the room where Poison was, saying “Sorry it took so long, I had to- “
But the room was empty.
“Poison?” Ghoul called, panic already building in his chest. “I’m back.”
Nobody answered.
“Come on man, I brought your hair stuff.” Fuck, Ghoul, what the fuck were you thinking? What if he ran away? Cola told you to stay by his fucking side and now he’s-
“Coming,” he heard, in Poison’s weak voice, from the bathroom. Oh, for fuck’s sake.
He breathed out a big sigh and put the things he had brough on a counter. Then he sat on the bed and waited. But Poison wouldn’t come out.
He knocked on the bathroom door. “Hey, everything good?”
Poison was silent again.
Fuck. “I’m coming in,” he announced. “Are you…”
Ghoul trailed off as he took in the scene. Poison was sitting in the tub, soaking wet, naked. In the daylight, and with no clothes on, Ghoul could see all the signs of his fucked-up trip away on his body. And he could count his fucking ribs. It wasn’t the first time Ghoul could see him naked. Their living condition didn't exactly allow them to have privacy-or any kind of decency, really. But it was different this time. Poison was hugging his own knees like he wanted to hide, which was really out of character for him. And his head rested back on the wall, exposing a big purple bruise on his neck. He had shapeshifted so much in just two weeks.
Ghoul had to turn his gaze away, because his heart ached in a way he had never felt before. He'd never seen Poison- the same Poison that would bully him for being too weak- so vulnerable, and it felt wrong to keep looking. It was like watching a flame go out, or some monument be reduced to ruins. And Ghoul knew Poison wouldn’t let anyone make him that way, if not himself. It was painful.
“It’s a hot morning,” whispered Poison. He kept his head back, looking at the ceiling.
“Yeah, it is,” Ghoul tried his best to sound casual. But his voice was rough. “Hey, everything good?”
"Never been better," Poison snarkily remarked.
Ghoul dared looking back at him, then. His lips curled down in a way that made him look like the most miserable thing on earth.
“I brought your stuff. And breakfast.” Ghoul disappeared and came back after a minute, with some fresh clothes. He rested them on the floor and announced, smiling kindly, “I'll be waiting for you to eat. But hurry up because I'm starving, and you know it pisses me off.”
Poison didn’t answer. He was looking ahead, motionless, like he wasn’t even breathing.
“Come on,” Ghoul insisted. “I’ll let you do things to my hair.”
Their eyes crossed for the first time since Ghoul had stepped in the room, then. Poison’s eyes looked hollow, exhausted. But he nodded. “Thanks.”
Ghoul replied with a smile and then left the room, closing the door behind him. He couldn't stop himself from releasing a large sigh as soon as he was outside.
He knew it wouldn't be easy, seeing him at his lowest point. Kobra had warned him. He had read it in Cola's sad smile. But it stung just the same.
Poison had come out of the bathroom after a while, his hair soaking wet but with a somehow more peaceful appearance than Ghoul had seen inside the bathtub. He sat down across from Ghoul, who had arranged the food on the table, but initially just stood there staring at him as he ate.
Ghoul said nothing, as he noticed how his eyes were shifting back and forth between him and breakfast. And indeed, it took a few minutes but eventually Poison began to eat as well. Ghoul couldn’t help a smirk form on his lips when he saw him eating.
"What?" frowned Poison, his mouth full.
“Nothing,” smiled Ghoul.
***
"Can you stop moving constantly? I'm about to rip your fucking ear off."
Ghoul was doing his best to stay focused as he cut some hair off the side of Poison's head, but it was fucking hard as he kept shifting in his chair and moving around.
"I'm doing my best," Poison said, "it's not my fault you're so fucking slow."
"It's not like I've ever been a professional barber, you know?” Ghoul left the scissors and took the razor from the stand. “I’ve never even cut my own hair. Now please don’t move.”
Somehow, with frequent cursing pauses and with all the patience he had left in his body, Ghoul managed to give Poison exactly the cut that he had asked for. He could see it in the way he looked in the mirror, moving his head from side to side, staring at himself, his eyebrows arched in satisfaction.
“You know what?” He said, gaze fixed in his own eyes. “I’ll leave the roots black. I think it fucks. Now let’s dye yours.”
“What?” Ghoul frowned. “No, I said I wouldn’t dye mine. You can trim it and stuff, but I won’t dye it.”
“You said you’d let me do things to your hair.” Poison stepped closer and ran a hand through Ghoul’s hair, to inspect it like he had done earlier in the morning. “Liar.”
Ghoul just rolled his eyes.
“Coward.” He stepped even closer, moving his locks around between his fingers. “If only you’d trust me with this, you’d look so much hotter.”
What the fuck is he doing?
Ghoul stepped back to put some distance between them. “Fine,” he breathed out, shrugging. “All yours. You’d probably do it in my sleep anyway.”
After some compromising, they had come to the agreement that Ghoul would get some strands bleached on the side of his head. They had excluded bleaching all the hair because Poison believed he didn’t have a blonde vibe, and he didn’t want Ghoul to get them red- even if they noticed it was the only dye left in his kit- because it was his color. He proposed bleaching only the right half, but it was a categorical no from Ghoul. So, blonde strands it was.
Ghoul sat on the chair and Poison moved around his head, fiddling with something yellow and powdery and some conditioner.
“Why does it smell like rotting eggs?” Ghoul frowned. “Please don’t make me bald.”
“Shut up,” Poison moved his head to the left and kept working. “I’ve done it countless times on myself.”
“Shouldn’t you be wearing gloves or something?”
“Who am I, the fucking queen of England? We die like men, in the zones.”
As much as Ghoul was fearing for the outcome, he was glad he had agreed to that. Poison sounded relaxed, like he was having fun, even. He always had fun doing shit like dying hair or altering clothes or painting objects. Ghoul took mental note to bring him something to work on, because it seemed to keep his head on the good si-
What the-?
Suddenly, after a period of silence, Poison had squatted down in front of Ghoul and started staring at him. He held his chin with his hand and moved his head to one side and the other, as if inspecting him.
But Ghoul felt something strange in his gaze. It was steady and insistent. And it lasted a long time. So long that he could feel his own cheeks burning and fuck, he had to turn his head to the left to hide his flushing.
“Wait,” said Poison, forcing Ghoul’s head to shift back to face him, from the chin. “I’m checking if I covered everything right.”
But he had smug tone, and a fucking smirk on his face, and Ghoul was freaking out trying to figure out if he had gone permanently insane and was making things up, or if it was Poison who had it all figured out and was having fun tormenting him. Either way, he had no way to hide his stupid red face, so he was fucked.
“Why’re you blushing?” asked Poison innocently.
Of-fucking-course he wouldn’t leave it alone.
“I don’t know, you’re staring at my face.” Ghoul sounded awkward even to himself. He moved his eyes to his side, which was the best he could do since Poison was keeping his head fucking still in front of him.
“Do you get all flushy anytime you get a haircut?” laughed Poison. “Man, whoever does your hair must be a lucky guy.” He finally stood up and turned around to resume messing with the hair. “Or gal, you never said which side you swing.”
Okay Ghoul, you can be as nuts as you want, but there's no way to interpret what he's saying that isn't flirting. That fucking smug tone of his, even. It makes everything worse. God damn.
“I have a girlfriend, technically,” he ended up saying, in his rough awkward voice. “We never broke up before I left.”
“Oh my,” yelled Poison, in an over the top shocked tone. “I didn't take you for a heartbreaker.” He tapped on his shoulder, then, and said, “Wash your hair in ten minutes.”
Ghoul was as silent and tense as a statue. Poison had started to clean up the mess of hair and products around him, while he just stood there like a fool. Every once in a while, he could glance that Poison still had his little fucking grin on.
The ten minutes felt like a lifetime, but as soon as they were over Ghoul rushed to the bathroom to wash his hair. He cursed a little at the almost empty water container. It was completely full before Poison had taken his bath.
He checked his reflection before going back in the other room. He found his face dumber than usual and noticed that his cheeks hadn't quite given up the blush. As for the hair, he didn't mind it. The bleach must not have worked very well, so the light strands weren't too bad to lo-.
Oh fuck.
He jumped a little, watching Poison appear in the reflection behind him all of a sudden.
“I’m kinda disappointed,” he said, getting near so he could move Ghoul’s bleached hair between his fingers. “I was hoping for a more drastic result.”
Ghoul could feel his closeness behind him. He swallowed the knot in his throat. Then he said, "I like it. It feels like a laser grazed my head. Badass."
Poison raised his eyebrows a second, then made a satisfied face. That analogy must have pleased him.
He didn’t move back, though. He moved closer. And he slid his hand through Ghoul’s wet hair even deeper.
Ghoul couldn’t take it anymore. His vision fogged up and he couldn't tell if he was dreaming or going crazy or if Poison was really pushing that close on him.
But he didn’t care anymore. He couldn't stop his eyes from rolling back and his head from pushing back on Poison's hand, exposing his neck.
"There you are," Poison whispered, then finally pushed Ghoul against the sink, clearing away any remaining doubt. He held the back of Ghoul’s wrist, holding onto the sink, with one hand. With the other he pulled back his hair to make room on his neck.
“May I?” he breathed on there, before crawling over it with his cheek, and then beginning to suck on it.
Ghoul was seeing black by now. He couldn't control the way he shivered and pushed back to feel the contact. It was really fucking happening. And he hadn't started it. It had happened so fast and Poison was-
No, right. Poison wasn't himself.
It wasn't right, not at that time. No way it could mean anything other than impulsive bullshit to get easy serotonin.
Fuck, Ghoul, you have to find a way to stop yourself before it’s too late and-
“Hey,” he breathed out, loudly. He was flushing like crazy. “Stop.”
Poison stopped sucking. He raised his eyes to look at Ghoul’s face in the mirror and moved away as soon as he could see his pained expression.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, as he stepped back. “I thought you were-“
But Ghoul turned around and took Poison’s face between his hands, staring at him in a frown. His eyes were burning and felt watery already, but he did his best to hold it back.
“Stop it,” he said, in a conflicting voice. “You’re not in your right mind.”
Poison frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Ghoul left his face and buried his own on Poison’s chest, dropping his arms along his sides. He breathed in, deeply, letting himself feel all the closeness he could, for a while.
“I don’t want you to regret this,” he said, barely audible. He breathed in and out. “I don’t want to be an awkward memory.” His voice was trembling. “This isn’t fair.”
Poison couldn’t tell if the growing wet patch on his chest was from Ghoul’s hair or if it was tears.
He stepped back and took both Ghoul’s shoulders in his hands, to look at his face, and he was indeed crying. Ghoul frowned and looked away, again, doing his best to hide himself.
A huge smile appeared on Poison's face. “Oh my god,” he said, laughing a little, in an incredulous tone. “You’re being so cute right now. I can't believe it.”
“Fuck you,” spat out Ghoul, but he was laughing and crying at the same time and both his heart and his stomach had jumped when Poison had said that sentence. And he kept looking down at his side but could still feel his gaze on his dumb wet face.
Poison pulled him in in a hug, holding him whole. Ghoul’s head fitted perfectly on his shoulder, and, for him, it was a revelation. He felt like it belonged there. It was the first time he had ever felt like that, and only now did he realize that the extent of his feelings for Poison would be well beyond his control. His heart was beating out of his chest, and they were so close he knew Poison would feel it.
“Maybe I chose the wrong person for a post-apocalyptic fuck.” Poison gave a tiny kiss on his hair, and Ghoul had to stop himself from shifting his head and put his lips there. “You’re too good. That's why you always get on my nerves in any other situation.”
Ghoul wasn’t even listening. He knew he wouldn’t get to be that close to him again, so he pretended everything was good and it was real and he closed his eyes, leaning in the hug. Breathing it in.
“But you're so cute like this. I can't even begin to feel disappointed.”
Poison was smiling in an unusual way. He always looked like his grin meant something else, but not this time. This time, it was soft. It was honest.
They stood like that for a while, hugging in the bathroom. And Ghoul swore he would’ve given up everything, everything, to freeze time and let that feeling be his own private reality forever.
But someone knocked on the door.
“Ghoul?” Cola called from outside. “I’m back. You can go whenever you want.”
That would be never, of course, but Ghoul clung on that to find enough strength to move away.
He wasn’t crying anymore, and his chest was oddly light. But the smile he was attempting was far from a happy one.
He moved towards the door without saying anything, without even looking at Poison. He couldn’t.
But Poison called behind him. “You know,” he said. “This is a first. It takes guts to turn me down.”
Ghoul released in a laugh, then, an honest one. And that gave him the courage to turn around.
“This is the bravest thing you’ve ever done.”, Poison said. He had a smirk on, but there was something sincere in his gaze.
Ghoul smiled back and left, silent.
He was content. He had done the right thing.
***
“You’re so beautiful”, Riot whispered, cupping Red’s cheek. Their foreheads were resting on each other.
“Thank you,” said Red. “It feels nice, being told that.”
Riot’s eyes were fixed in Red’s. They were watery. And sad.
She sighed and moved back to sit properly on the couch, putting some distance between them.
Red stood up and stretched. “You also believe the moon to be beautiful, right? And Monstera plants.”
Riot nodded.
Red sat back by her side. “And I believe you to be beautiful, alongside the color red, cats and…” she looked up, like she was trying to remember something. Then she looked down at Riot, discouraged. “Sorry.”
Riot shook her head. “No baby, it’s okay.” Then she let out a big breath. “I shouldn’t call you that.”
“You used to call me baby, It’s okay. I remember. It feels warm in my chest.”
Ghoul arrived in the hall of the diner, then, just in time to see one tear stain Riot’s face. He assumed there would be tears in a meeting like that, but, like, happy tears. And Riot’s expression didn’t leave any doubt on it being not that.
“Hey,” he said to make his presence known, hesitantly. “Welcome back.” He smiled at Red, letting Riot believe he hadn't noticed her sad expression.
“Hi Fun Ghoul,” smiled Red. “Can you name three beautiful things?”
Ghoul managed a confused smile and turned to Riot. He had no idea what was going on, but he didn’t like it. Riot just nodded, her eyes still sad and watery, so Ghoul turned back to Red.
“Uh, let’s see…sunsets. And puppies.” He didn’t have to look for a third one, for his mind went immediately back to Poison’s smile as he hugged him, and a warm wave of missing that washed over him until it hurt. But he just said “Veggies. I miss seeing those.”
“It’s in the RAM,” said Riot, then, suddenly. They both looked at her. Her face was indecipherable, but there were tears on it. “Feelings, they’re stored in the RAM. Outside the HIVE cloud of the City, there’s no way to get it back.”
Red sighed and took Riot’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Riot kept looking at Ghoul. “She knows what they are, can’t remember what they feel like.”
“Fuck,” said Ghoul, then, because he had no idea what he could say in a situation like that. “This is so fucked up.” His eyes moved back and forth between the two. Red was stroking Riot’s shoulder.
“Jet did his best. She knows every fact she knew before. She’s trying out things she remembers to see how they feel.”
Red looked at Ghoul, then. She had the same sad look she had back before she was gone. “Outside the city, without a network to live in, we depend on our batteries. Like a bubble of memories that can disappear at any moment.”
“What will you do?” asked Ghoul, hesitantly.
“It’s okay,” Riot smiled. Her melancholic eyes let through a sliver of hope and that made Ghoul's heart lift just a little. “I’ll do what I’ve always done. I’ll be by her side, let her know that I love her. And hope she’ll love me back one day.”
That last phrase got stuck in Ghoul’s head, and he was silent, for a while, reflecting on the effect it had on him. It made his stomach jump. Sticking by someone’s side after you’ve shown them your love. Even if they don’t love you back. That was the scariest thing Ghoul could think of.
But it was also the only option left, he knew that.