Archive of Our Own

Well, dammit.   He thought.  The nail inching ever closer to him.  It seems time had decided to give him just a little extra time to think on his mistake before it smothered him.

This had gone a lot better in his head, to be honest.  He really thought this whole swordsman business would die off as Hollownest did but it seems that wasn’t enough for the corpse.  It needed to constantly harass him with new expenditures.  For instance, who would have thought that there were still some old king guards lying about?  Of whom wanted to eradicate the infection by killing everything.  The infection was long dead but these “bugs” were more atomitron than actual bugs.

Quirrel wasn’t one to go out for a fight, he had hoped to put that behind him.  Settle down and finish that house by the lake.  Spend his time reading and learning with Ghost and not dying a painful death.

Really this was all Ghost's fault.  He had always had a fondness for the bug, he was one of the first bugs he met and they quickly became good friends, less from mutual pleasures and more out of necessity.  The bug was completely mute and at times one could be forgiven for thinking the bug was a lifeless husk.  But there was always a spark of life within’ their being.  In the way they listened attentively to his stories or would stop to take in the grandeur of a lost city.  Quirrel always found it quite endearing.

Their bond (at first) was purely platonic of course.  They were good friends and when Ghost went to live with him at the small, unfinished shack, Quirrel was more than happy to have him.  Quirrel always admired the small bug for his skill in nail arts, but he was then so little he looked like a child and that more or less, this successfully warded off any sort of romantic feelings that came from the pill bug or at least suppressed them.

That is until Ghost started to grow.

He sort of had a sudden growth spurt, in a sense.  No one can really tell how or why but he was now just a little taller than Quirrel.  This would be fine if it wasn’t so distracting.  Quirrel couldn’t count the times he’d be trying to just sit and read while Ghost, with their perfectly etched face and new horns that complimented his figure and his tuned body, elegantly crafted for fighting (and perhaps other things).  It was impossible to get anything done.  He’d always be interested in whatever Quirrel did, and followed along wherever he went.  He liked the company but he’d often fumble his words around the knight and would sometimes all together forget what he went out to do, which was all rather embarrassing.  Though as much as it annoyed Quirrel when Ghost paid attention to him he found himself even more annoyed when Ghost didn’t.  Like when he sat quietly and tried to read a really long piece on Shakespear or when he’d try to decipher the old tubes from the archive even though Quirrel knew perfectly well that he couldn’t read them.  It was especially lonesome annoying when the knight had to go off on some mission.  Then he couldn’t focus on anything except on when his knight would return.

That is, of course, until he was called into action.  Well, more like offered, but still.  He wouldn’t have gone at all if Ghost wasn’t always going.  What if he didn’t come back?  What if he found a new boy friend while he was out, like another knight, then he’d be all alone and he’d never get anything done.

There was only one thing he could do.  Prove just how great of a fighter he was, he was pretty great with the nail after all, or above average at least.  He’d show Ghost.  By the end of the fight he’d be swooning over him have to stay with him .  It was a solid plan, maybe even a great plan.

It was a great plan until it’s implementation.  Sure he could dodge, parry, and attack like no other bug this side of the Potomac, that wasn’t the problem.  The problem was Ghost was quite unaware of his presence.  It really made him think about how angry he was at the king's guards and their attempts to destroy everyone and definitely not because he might be acting out like a child as he successfully chopped one of the guards in half.

The knight was off just a few meters away slicing his way through the rabble-rousers with ease.  His moves were so coordinated and perfected.  Each and every step deliberate like a dance but if everyone died at the end.  It was beautiful.

More guards piled on to the fray, seemingly taking him as the greatest threat.  Still the knight fought on valiantly, and weirdly enough he’d never seen the knight happier.  Quirrel had never taken Ghost to be a psychopath when it came to killing it was more of a necessity.  But then that mattered very little to Quirrel, what did matter was the unseen guard swooping in from Ghost’s back left.  Only a few meters from striking distance.

Quirrel didn’t hesitate, he sprung forward, a thousand calculations going through his mind.  Trying to find a way in which he parries the attack and Ghost not getting hit.  Unfortunately that short distance was a lot shorter then he had anticipated as he came careening in between Ghost and the nail.  He was too late, that nail was going to hit someone, and now that someone was Quirrel.

Well, dammit.   He thought.  This is gonna suck.   That nail cut wasn’t going to be a small nick that was going to penetrate his stomach and keep on going through.  It’ll cut short of Ghost though he’ll be a tsundere at that point.

He wasn’t all that upset, yeah it wasn’t a great way to go, but then his aspirations as of late had sort of died already.  He didn’t want to read or explore without Ghost anymore.  At least he got to go down saving his friend.

All that was left were his last words.  He’d read up quite a bit on this, it had to be something emotional, but reserved, sophisticated, philosophical, and with purpose.  And he had to do it really soon because…

*Shing*

The nail passed clean through his stomach.  Quirrel would have been quite glad that he didn’t get chopped in half but instead had the pleasure of bleeding out if he wasn’t in agonizing pain.  The world around him blurred as he staggered backwards, clenching his chest.  The pain subsided rather quickly as his sensors started shutting down.  He had hoped to back into Ghost who would hold him gently and profess his undying because he had saved the vessel's life.

There were more clanking and sounds of breaking but it was all too hard to pay attention to as he stood there.  Dammit, think, if I fall I die and I won’t say anything, final last words think!   His mind was racing with what little power it had left.  The only working neuron kicking off when the ruckus stopped.  He managed to look up at Ghost, whose face had changed from quite pleased to horrified.  Then looking back down at the huge gash that had replaced his stomach and finally back up at Ghost.

“Bollocks.”  And he fell backwards.  God fucking dammit, those are my last words I guess .  He thought as he felt his body crumple under the stress of gravity.  He never did hit the ground as he felt a pair of hands grasp hold of his back, slowly lying him on the ground.

This whole dying thing was taking far longer than he would have liked.  If I’d known it would take this long I’d bloody done it myself, he thought.  Everything came in and out of focus, what he did make out was the knight's gorgeous head gazing over his.  Black streaks running down their face.

No, no, no come on now.   All of his attention was now brought to the knight kneeling over him.  He wasn’t supposed to be upset over this.  Just pay your respects and get on with it.   If the last thing he felt was sadness over making his love cry he would be pissed.

He tried to say something soothing, he really did.  But when he tried to speak all that came out were spurts of blood which only helped to distress the knight more.  I can’t just have a nice death can I?   The only thing he could make out was Ghost now, as the world began to darken and he felt his mind start to slip away.

You know, this is all your fault.   Was the last thing to run through his head before darkness took over.

Of all the crazy things to happen to a bug after they pass on perhaps the craziest happened to Quirrel, he woke up.  He was in bed, well a bed, in a nice quaint room.  There was a large window to his right, light glinted the surface and sprawled a beautiful picture on the ground.  The room was rather thin, stretching out to his right a few meters before exiting through a door.  The room was rather desolate, save two old chairs one beside the bed and the other tucked close by opposite the bed, and a small table to his immediate right.  A large, hardcover book of the many tragedies of Shakespear and a vase with a single white flower in it.

He couldn’t quite move, every inch of him ached.  Not to mention the large stitch going along his stomach, he feared if he moved too much he might fall apart at the seams, both mentally and physically.

After a few minutes the door opened.  Hornet entered the room looking down at a clipboard.  In her other hand was a mug of what he could only assume was coffee, #1 Spider Queen was engraved on the side of it.  She got about halfway into the room before she looked up and saw Quirrel staring back at her.

This startled the spider, causing her to accidentally drop her mug.  *Crash!*

“Christ!  You're alive!”  She said.

“Oh, a nice hello to you too I guess.”  Quirrel responded.

She had quickly recomposed herself and looked down at her now decimated mug.  “Dammit Quirrel, you’ve been alive for a minute now and you already broke my goddamn mug.  And right after I stitched you up, you owe me for two things now.”

“You can shove that mug up your ass, at worst this makes us even.  One for, you know, for helping save Hollownest and two, for not telling anyone about your…”

“Alright, alright, sheesh I’m just messing with you.”  Hornet said.  He’d been over this a few times with the spider queen that context and delivery mattered a lot when telling a joke.  Turns out it’s really hard to re-acquaint someone to social tendencies when they’ve been alone for the last 20 years.

“Yeah well, I’ve been dead for who knows how long.  I’m allowed to be crabby at least for a few minutes.”

“I’ll say, that white guard nearly tore you in half.  I wasn’t even going to try at first but Ghost threatened something and well I said, screw it what’s the worst that could happen.”  Hornet said, giving a solid delivery this time.  “Speaking of which, he's outside.  Been waiting there a few days now, since you got in, and I don’t very well blame him.  If I were any smarter I’d have said he brought you along so he could impress you.”  With that she began to walk back out.

“Wait, what does the clipboard say?  Am I going to be alright or do I have to take dialysis or something?”  Quirrel asked.

“Don’t be so narcissistic, I was just doing some doodles, I’ve mastered sword fighting and sowing and soon I’ll have mastered the pen.  At the rate I’m going at I will be the master of all professions.”  She said as she went over the status marked deceased and scribbled it out replacing it with a hard alive.

“Man I’d make a great doctor.”  She whispered to herself before walking out of the room, right about the same time Ghost walked in.  He had a whiteboard with a marker, it was the only way he could properly communicate with anyone.

He looked just as fine and handsome as he did before, maybe a little more scrawny then last time.  “Hey, my friend, it’s good to see you alive and well.”  Quirrel said as Ghost sat down next to him.  There was much truth to that, he had figured the knight would be alright considering he was still (technically) in one piece but it was still a huge relief.

Quirrel and Ghost had been living together for a few months and he had picked up on the knight's body language, he could tell what the knight was trying to say as he stared solemnly at Quirrel.  “Don’t worry I’m fine, or at least I think I’m fine.  I tell yah’ your sister does not inspire confidence.  I mean she talked about stitching me up, and at one point I was spitting up blood so…”  He didn’t finish his statement as he brought his attention back to the knight who looked like he was about to be in tears.  “It’s alright, I’m okay now and you’re okay, that’s good enough for me.”

Ghost looked down at his board and wrote something down, very short and very concise.

I’m sorry.

“Nothing to be sorry about, it’s not your fault, I jumped in the way of the nail.  Nothing you could have done to stop me.”  Quirrel said.  Ghost scribbled down some more.

It is my fault.

Quirrel was about to interject but the knight started writing down more.

I wanted you to come because , he stopped a second, looking away for a brief moment as if embarrassed.  Because I wanted to impress you.

Ghost didn’t get to see Quirrel blush, instead he was content to stare at the floor.

Quirrel didn’t have much to say, he was flabbergasted in a sense.  So instead he let instinct take over and he reached over and hugged the knight.  Much to Ghost’s surprise and his chests dismay.

He’d spent all this time doubting and questioning his feelings, yet he never for a second thought that his partner might feel the same way.  Maybe Ghost was trying to get to Quirrel the same way.

Ghost hugged him back, making sure to give a light squeeze as not to hurt the other bug.  Quirrel could feel cold droplets on his back.  He could feel the knight's hands shaking a bit.  It seems he was just glad to have his partner back.  Quirrel didn’t take it very seriously but perhaps he had brushed death a bit harder than anticipated.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, I promise.”  Quirrel said.

They had a lot of feelings to work through, and a lot of healing to do.  Perhaps one more so then the other but they would do it together all the same.

They stayed like that for a while, just in each other's embrace.

The sun shined all the brighter through the room, covering every nook and cranny in its golden light.

It was beautiful.