Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He packed his pajamas, his toothbrush, his phone, a blanket, and a hairbrush. If there was anything else he needed to bring, he didn’t know. Harley said he should just bring himself, but he wanted to be prepared. He had spent the night before, but this was a proper sleepover, and he wanted to do it right. He determined he had all that he needed. He put everything in his bag and headed over to Harley’s. 

When he arrived, Harley was showing off her taxidermied beaver, Bernie. That didn’t seem terribly strange. Abner had met Bernie before. He was a very nice taxidermied beaver. Sebastian didn’t seem to like Bernie and was staying on top of Cleo’s shoulder, flattened. 

“Hey! Abbie!” Harley exclaimed. “The bathroom’s over there, put your pj’s on.” Everyone else seemed to have either gotten the memo or already been instructed to change. Harley had gotten them ‘team-building’ pajamas a while ago. Abner had no idea what that meant until he saw them. Each member of the team received rather tacky themed pajamas- but of a different person’s gimmick. Cleo’s pajamas had little sharks on them and were a size or two too big to facilitate maximum napping. Nanaue, in turn, had a new pair of swim shorts in the form of red and black diamonds. He wore them very proudly- happy to have anything from his friends. Harley had given herself the hippy-esque peace-sign pajamas, as she said “taking the L” for the rest of the group. She had given Chris the polka-dotted ones, and while he still refused to wear a shirt, he did wear the pants, which was a welcome change to the briefs he liked to wear. Abner had been given blood spatter pajamas he was pretty sure Harley made herself- for Robert. Robert got a bullet-patterned pair, which sparked an argument between him and Christopher- who both believed it should technically be their theme when Harley said it was Rick’s. Harley settled that by explaining that they were both accurate , and just bullets didn’t represent that properly. Rick got the rat-themed pajamas with large rat slippers. Rick wore all of it like a champ and didn’t complain about the bullets debacle. Occasionally, Robert would see one of those rat slippers from the corner of his eye and jump. Harley later confessed to Cleo and Abner how hard it was not to give the rat theme to Robert. 

Everyone was present at the moment, except Nanaue. They were all to some degree wearing their team-building pajamas too. Cleo wore hers in its entirety, with a blanket on her shoulders like a cape, and Sebastian with a little shark pin on his backpack. Well, Abner was pretty sure that was a backpack, might be some kind of rat shirt? Harley had hers on, with a matching makeup look, and her own fluffy slippers. Chris wore the pants of his, still refusing to wear a shirt. Abner did not feel particularly closer to him because of the pajamas that resembled his chronic illness, but seeing them did still make him happy- if only because he was thought of at all. Robert wore the bottoms of his with a white tank top. Rick wore his rat pajamas, slippers and all, with a cowboy hat. Which only left Abner. Abner moved past Bruce the hyena, over the cheese balls, and into the bathroom. He changed into his pajamas, stuffing his clothes into his bag, and moved back into the living room. Harley handed him a bowl of cereal, which he accepted. 

“You’re not gonna like that, mate,” Robert told him, as he ate a spoonful of cereal, realizing quickly that the liquid in it was some type of alcohol. He coughed and tried not to spit the cereal back up, making himself swallow it. 

“Come on, it’s not that bad.”

“It is that bad,” Rick said. 

“No one likes my soup, Bernie,” Harley told the beaver. Abner put her ‘soup’ on the table. Rick passed him a cereal-less alcoholic beverage and Abner drank it. It was still a bit much, but it was fruity and sweeter. 

“You really just can’t stand alcohol, can you?” asked Robert. 

“He’s just gotta warm up,” Rick said, pulling him to his side and rubbing his back. “We’ll figure out somethin’ you like.” 

“I just had the best idea!” Harley said. “Okay, everybody get drunk really fast, we’ve gotta play twister.” Harley took her drink and her soup and went into another room. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna find Twister, don’t forget to let Nanaue in.” 

Harley wasn’t finding ‘Twister’ easily. Everyone had settled in on the couch, waiting for her, and drinking. Abner was starting to care less and less about the taste, enjoying the warmth.  And he certainly wasn’t going to stop drinking while everyone else was still drinking. It took them all a collective five minutes to figure out what the hell was going on when Nanaue knocked and the neighbors screamed, but eventually, they all got up and tried to wrangle him into the correct apartment. He was wearing his team-building pajamas too, and was very polite and didn’t eat the neighbors.  They settled back onto the couch, where they continued to drink. Abner was starting to feel good, a little silly maybe. 

“Heyo!” Harley called, bringing in a partially crushed box. “Who’s ready to lose at Twister?” 

“Oh! I am!” Cleo said. 

“You’re gonna get your ass kicked,” Christopher said. “It’s not just about being flexible. It’s about being strong.” 

“You saying you don’t think I’m strong?” Harley asked. 

“How do you play?” Abner asked. 

“Okay, who all is playing?” Harley asked, throwing the mat out over the ground. It was old and somewhat stained. It also reminded him of his uniform. He chuckled. He wondered if wearing his uniform would help him win the game. Cleo and Christopher were obviously playing. Sebastian was not. Abner agreed to play, still with no idea how. Robert was the last to decide he wanted to join. 

“You sure about this, old man?” Christopher asked Robert.

“Watch yourself, I’ll trip you,” Robert said. 

“Me watch,” Nanaue decided. 

“Rick,” Harley said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Ricky. Ricktopher.” 

“I’ll spin the wheel.” 

“Sounds good,” Harley said, tossing him the board. “Alright, so, everybody has played Twister, right?”

“No, I just asked how to play,” Abner said. 

“Alright, spin the wheel, Rickathan.” Abner, buzzed and confused, just accepted that he wasn’t going to get to know the rules. Rick took mercy on him. 

“Basically, I spin the wheel. It’ll land on a specific color and limb combination. For example, right foot red. Which means you put your right foot on red, until otherwise instructed. You keep your limbs on the dots as long as you can. Last person on the mat wins,” Rick explained. 

“Why did you say that in your ‘big leader’ voice?” Cleo snickered. 

“I’m.. I don’t.. I think…” Rick spun the wheel. “Left foot yellow.” That one was pretty easy for everyone. Christopher tried to shove Robert. “Hey, no shoving!” He was still using his big leader voice. Abner shared a knowing look with Cleo and smirked. Well, he was pretty sure that was the expression he made, and she seemed to understand. Or she was laughing at him. He felt too good to think she was laughing at him. Abner felt like he was fine, but he watched his body stumble, and he felt a bit nauseous as he bent over. He was making it pretty far though. At least he thought he was. They moved five or six or maybe eight times before Abner became consciously aware he might be having a problem. Their left feet had never left yellow, right on red, and both hands on green. Harley was taking great joy in stretching all across the mat in bizarre shapes, and sticking her tongue out at Christopher. Cleo was in a weird knot, but not in the way Harley was. She was shaking a little. Abner’s head was spinning and his weight wasn’t balanced well. He started to worry he might actually lose at Twister. He wasn’t sure he remembered how to lose at Twister. He glanced at Robert, who seemed bored. Rick spun the wheel again. “Right hand red.” Harley slid over to red easily. Christopher followed in a somewhat clunky way, but just as fast. Abner managed it, just barely. He didn’t feel like he’d be there much longer. Cleo managed it but shook the mat a bit. With a resounding “Eh” Robert flopped onto the ground. Abner had to clench his arms to make sure he didn’t fall over as Robert gave in. 

“Oh no, I lost,” he said sarcastically. “I’m gonna get a drink. Get him, Harley.” 

“Thanks, Milton.” 

“Still not my name.” They made it two more rounds. Harley made a purposeful effort to make it difficult for everyone else by taking the most convenient dots and forcing them to stretch further and further. She was just about to take out Cleo.

 “Left foot blue,” Rick announced. Nanaue was now pretending to read the board and nodded sagely as Rick read it aloud. Christopher got there first, knowing what Harley was up to. Abner just slid his foot back and managed it well enough, but something was wrong. He was off-balance, or nauseous, or something. Regardless, he felt pretty good. Harley moved between Cleo and success, making it near impossible for her to reach the last blue dot. Then Cleo put her foot on top of Abner’s shin. On top of one of his dots. Which was blue. 

“Does this count?” Cleo asked, grinning up at Rick. Abner laughed, shaking him and Cleo as well. 

“That’s… kind of clever. I’ll allow it.” The next dot was red, and Abner had a convenient red lump naturally occurring on his hand. With this advantage, Abner might just win. 

Rick shouldn’t have allowed it. It was another ten rounds in, and Cleo had eventually given up. Abner was tired, and his heart wasn’t in the game, but Harley and Christopher were purposefully holding him up so they could continue to use him as part of the mat. Abner had collapsed on top of one of Christopher’s legs, where he dangled sort of sadly. Nanaue had taken over board duty. 

“Left… Left hand yellow,” Nanaue said. 

“Very good!” Cleo said. Nanaue looked proud. Harley moved her center of gravity over her heels in order to block Christopher from all of the yellow, leaving a spot only for Abner, likely because she had a foot on one of his green dots. Abner lethargically moved his hand to the dot.  Christopher looked over Abner before finding a yellow dot on his thigh, grabbing it. Abner jolted- that hand was… It was… A little bit high, and a little bit grabby. He felt embarrassment creep into him, but it couldn’t overtake the fuzz that had infected his mind. He saw Robert and Rick talking, looking at him. He couldn’t understand what they were saying. But he saw Rick get up and walk to the side of Bruce the hyena, swinging a toy in front of Bruce’s nose. Bruce looked excited. Abner sort of laughed. Then he saw the toy fly over their Twister game. 

“Right foot green,” Nanaue said. They started to move, just as Bruce barreled through them as fast as he possibly could, knocking everyone off the mat and onto the floor. Christopher and Harley got back up quickly. Abner caught the toy, and Bruce lunged at him, knocking him on his back. Abner yelped, then went still, trying not to move too much and upset the hyena. Bruce seemed to think Abner was playing with him, however. Or that Abner was a toy. Abner hadn’t played with a dog before, much less a hyena. Bruce laughed and scratched at him, starting to jump on him and roll him across the floor with his big nose. 

“Damnit!” Christopher snapped. “I would have won, I swear to god.” 

“You would have lost forever ago if it wasn’t for Abner,” Harley said. 

“So would you!” 

“Yeah, that’s great- uh- your dog is... Crushing him,” Rick said. Harley turned. 

“He’s a hyena actually.”

“Please help-” Harley jumped in at that point, grabbing Bruce’s nose and wiggling him around until he turned away from Abner, his actual toy in his mouth. “Thank you,” Abner said softly, sitting up. 

“Everything good, Polka? All your organs intact?” Harley asked. 

“I think so.” Cleo went over to him, helping him off the ground. Both of them stumbled a little, Abner laying on her side a bit. 

“Alright, water time everybody,” Rick said, passing around red solo cups full of water. Christopher started drinking his, and Harley started to chant. 

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Cleo and Robert joined in, and Abner, not sure what the point was, did too. Nanaue started to chortle, and chant along with them, bouncing up and down a little. Christopher did just that, chugging his cup of water, then taking Rick’s out of his hand and drinking it too. Harley gave him her cup. He chugged that one too. Cleo followed. Then Abner. Then Robert. He chugged them all, not pausing for a second. At the end he crushed one of the cups, punching into the air with it. 

“Yeah!” Christopher yelled. Everyone cheered. 

“Alright, now everybody’s gotta drink some water,” Rick insisted, collecting the cups. Harley finished off a bottle of- well Abner wasn’t sure what it was, some kind of clear alcohol with a red label- and then looked at the bottle. 

“Guys, we gotta play spin the bottle.”

“Nope,” Robert said. 

“Come onnnn ! It’ll be fun. No tongue, promise,” Harley said. 

“I’m sitting this one out,” Robert said. 

“Come on, you guys wanna play, right?” Harley asked. 

“Yeah, sure!” Cleo said. Abner didn’t know what this game was, but Twister was fun until they started to use him as part of the mat, and he was pretty sure they couldn’t use his skin condition for spin the bottle. 

“I’m in,” he said. 

“Me play?” Nanaue asked. 

“Yeah! I think you can,” Harley said, looking at the bottle. “I don’t think you’d break it if you spun it so yeah.” For once Christopher didn’t seem to know how to respond. He was just watching Flag.

“You do this with all your friends?” Rick asked Harley. 

“I mean I did with the Birds of Prey. And the other Squad. It’s not weird if you don’t make it weird, man, it’s fine.” She paused. “C’mon, It’ll be fun.” 

“Oh.. Alright,” Flag said reluctantly. 

“I’ll play too,” Christopher said. Robert rolled his eyes. 

“Got any non-cheese ball snacks?” Robert asked.

“Yeah, kitchen’s down the hall, help yourself,” Harley said. Abner felt a lump building up in his throat- choking him and starting to glow in his mouth. It was fevierish, and uncomfortable. 

“I’ll be right back,” Abner said, getting up. No one questioned why- they knew. Abner opened the window and leaned out, and paused. It was time. He had to expel the dots. He had to get rid of them. But they just didn’t want to come up. Great. He pressed his belly, trying to push them up- even though that didn’t help. He pretended to gag a few times till his body fell back into form and let him vomit up the dots. He felt the fever of them go down across his body, a bizarre kind of relief. The dots, without the gauntlets to direct them, floated up and crackled in the sky, fizzling and burning quietly. 

“Yo are those fuckin’ fireworks?” Abner ducked back inside so the man on the street wouldn’t see him. He checked himself for dots in the mirror, and when he decided he was appropriately dot-less, he returned to the room. Harley sat criss-cross applesauce, and Rick and Christopher did much the same, all of them in a circle on the ground. Cleo did it too, watching the others, and Abner followed her, sitting stiffly. Nanaue was the last, finishing the circle. Abner was thankful they didn’t mention his dots. Harley put the bottle in the center. “Who’s goin’ first?” Harley said, quirking an eyebrow and looking across at them. Abner couldn’t volunteer, he didn’t know how to play. Nanaue seemed to be in the same boat. Cleo might not know either. 

“You started this mess,” Rick said. 

“Alright, alright,” Harley said, leaning forwards and spinning it. It went around a bit, till the opening of the bottle landed on Rick. The two of them leaned across the bottle and kissed each other. Abner turned to Cleo, wide-eyed and bewildered, and she looked back at him much the same. It lasted all of a second, but Abner was still thoroughly scandalized. He knew people played games like this, or at least he could have imagined it, but he never thought he’d be part of it. Oh, his mother would hate this. And that was kind of fun. 

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Harley asked Rick. He sighed. 

“I used to,” Rick said. 

“Fair enough,” Harley didn’t want to linger on that. Rick took the bottle and spun it. It went around and around and started to slow down. It nearly landed on Nanaue. But then it stopped on Abner. He had never even kissed someone before. He hoped his expression didn’t give that away. 

“You alright?” Rick asked. “You can still dip out if you want to, I’m not gonna judge.” Abner had no idea how to kiss someone, but hopefully, since it was quick, they wouldn’t notice. He leaned across the circle of knees, and Rick did as well. He could do this, he knew what to do. He just had to lean close and- their noses touched. Abner felt heat rise in his cheeks and he heard the others chuckle, including Rick. “Yeah, that happens. Tilt your head.” Abner tilted his head and Rick met him the rest of the way. Abner hadn’t even considered Rick’s whiskers, but he felt them prickle his face. It was too brief for Abner to get anything from it really, or to remember what the kiss was like now that he was gone. He didn’t know what a kiss was like before, and could still say he didn’t know afterward. He sighed. At least he hadn’t embarrassed himself too much. 

“Okay, now you have to spin it,” Harley said. Abner jolted a little and spun the bottle. It landed quite firmly on Nanaue. He moved close to the shark, unsure how this was going to go down and afraid of his dagger-toothed mouth. Then, in a stroke of luck, Nanaue butted his nose against Abner’s face, the way he’d seen Abner do to Rick. There was another whirl of laughter, and Abner paused, took Nanaue’s nose in his palms, and gave him a purposeful peck on the end of his big nose. Nanaue happily took up the mantle of bottle spinner. This round the game was brought back to Rick. He -in a move much smoother than Abner’s- kissed the side of Nanaue’s face. He spun it again, and it landed on Harley, getting damn close to ending up on Christopher, who looked at the bottle dejectedly. 

“Trying to kiss Rick?” Abner asked flatly. The moment he said it, he regretted it, but it was already out of his mouth. Christopher looked at him with shock- and maybe rage. Abner tried to melt into the couch, just as shocked as Christopher was. Harley made an ‘ooooo!’ noise, and Cleo giggled. Christopher was the one trying to figure out his wording for once. 

“I- I wanna- I’m just trying to play the game,” Christopher snapped. Harley spun the bottle again, and it landed on Cleo. Cleo seemed to have figured out how to play, and had adjusted to it. Harley grinned and leaned forward, kissing her firmly, leaving a little of her bright red lipstick behind. Abner looked away for a moment, unable to place why he was embarrassed. 

“Now I get to spin it,” Cleo declared. She did, and it landed on Abner. Oh, wow. Second kiss. Well, second kiss with a human.  First time kissing a girl. She had been leaning on him, and just turned her head up to look at him. He panicked a little, half expecting to see his mother again as he looked at her. But he didn’t. He just saw her. He learned from last time and tilted his head, stiffly sitting there and letting Cleo find and kiss him. Her lips were softer than Rick’s. She also didn’t have part of a mustache. She didn’t move away as quickly as Rick did, kissing him soundly and then parting. He wished he could kiss his friends a little longer, then immediately felt guilt bubble up in his chest. Why did he want that? He spun the bottle again, trying to ignore it. Looks like Christopher would finally get to play. Abner tried to steady himself, and clear his mind of weird thoughts, but Christopher clasped both sides of his face and pulled him across the circle, kissing him roughly. He really felt that one- Christopher nearly headbutted him. Just as callous as he pulled him close, Christopher let him go, almost causing him to fall on his face. Nanaue helped him back into his seat as Christopher took up the bottle. He spun it, and it landed on Rick. Christopher and Rick moved towards each other but were interrupted by a knock on the door. Everyone jumped. On reflex, Rick put his fists up, nearly punching Christopher, who pointed a finger gun at the door. Cleo jumped a little, but she didn’t overreact. Unlike Abner- who flinched and put his hands up in an automatic attempt to protect himself. Nanaue put his hands over his head like Abner did- as if they were about to have more starfish thrown at them. Robert moved back into the room, a bowl of noodles in one hand and a knife in the other. 

“What are you gonna do with a fuckin’ finger gun?” Robert asked Christopher through a mouthful of ramen. 

“Shut the fuck up-”

“Did someone order a pizza?” Rick asked. 

“No-” Harley said. “At least I don’t think so?” The knocking came again. 

“Do you think it’s the landlord?” Rick asked. 

“Or Waller?” Abner asked. 

“Shut the fuck up, Abner,” Christopher added. 

“The landlord let me throw knives in the wall, I don’t think he’s gonna-”

“Harls!” came a voice, then more knocking.  

“Oh fuck- ” Harley said. 

“Who is that?” Cleo asked. Harley got up and opened the door. There stood a group of strangers. Abner grasped the bottle by the neck, trying to envision these people as his mother- getting ready to kill them if necessary. 

“Uh- we’re the fucking squad?” a strange Australian man said, pushing his way into the room. “Who the fuck are you, mate?” 

“We’re Harley’s friends,” Cleo said. 

“Yeah!” Abner added. Then everyone started speaking at once. 

“Did you invite-”

“What are they-”

“There’s two squad-” Christopher got up and walked over to the Australian. 

“I’m going home-”

“Hey!” Christopher snapped- loud enough to silence them all. “What the fuck is on your team-building pajamas?” he asked, pointing his finger gun to the Australian's chest. Everyone looked at them. They were little targets. 

“Uh, targets?” 

“Oh, shit-” Harley hissed under her breath. 

“Who are they for?” 

“Uh- him?” Aussie said, pointing to the only member of the other squad who had yet to shove himself into the room. He was older- with long white hair and scars across his face. He looked the way Abner felt most of the time. 

“Why? What’s he do?” Christopher asked. Harley, from behind Christopher, tried to make gestures at the Australian, and even though Abner was disoriented, a little drunk, socially awkward, and only seeing the back of the gestures he understood that she was trying to get the Australian to shut up. Unfortunately, the other man didn’t get it. 

“I dunno- he’s accurate?” Everything erupted- Robert and Christopher yelling at each other and the Australian and the man with the long hair. The Australian matched their energy, and the man with the long hair just glared at everyone. Rick tried to de-escalate, by also yelling. Harley left the room for a moment before coming back- Abner heard a gun fire and he scrambled behind the largest chair there. There was a collective scream. Then he grabbed Cleo’s shoulders and tried to pull her with him. She clambered back, behind the chair. 

“Put the gun down! Jesus!” Rick snapped. Abner peaked out from behind the chair. 

“Okay- now that I’ve got your attention,” Harley said- pointing her gun at the ceiling. “Everybody get in here, and sit down.” 

Harley corralled everyone into a circle on the floor. The two squads stayed firmly on opposite sides of the circle, and Nanaue kept trying to discreetly ask Cleo if the others were food. 

“Okay- so I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” Harley said. “But first I’m gonna start this fun. Everyone say your name, your fake name- and answer a simple question. Would you rather have sex with the lights on or off? I’ll go first. I’m Harley Quinn, also known as Harley Quinn, and I like the lights on.” There was a pause. “You’re next,” she said to Rick, pointing the gun at him. 

“I’m Rick Flag. Or Colonel Flag. You all know me. And you don’t need to point that around, Harley- Jesus-” 

“You didn’t answer-”

“Off I guess,” Rick sighed. 

“We’re going counterclockwise,” Harley said. Which meant it would be the long-haired blonde man next- then the fidgety blond, then the guy with the sleeveless shirt, then the Australian, then the older man, then Cleo, and oh God- then Abner. He tried to think of how he would answer- he knew he would make a mistake- he would embarrass himself. 

“My name is Gunter Braun,” the longer-haired blond said. “You may know me as Javelin. And uh..” He glanced pointedly at Harley. “On.” Javelin’s team-building pajamas had little boomerangs on them. Harley had sat Rick between her and Gunter, and Abner didn’t know much about relationships but he was pretty damn sure that wouldn’t go well. 

“Hey, I’m Richard Hertz- don’t call me that- it’s Blackguard.”

“Your name is Dick Hertz?” Christopher asked. 

“Shut the fuck up-”

“Fuck you, Dick Hertz-”

“It’s fucking Blackguard!” 

“Come on guys-” Rick sighed. They settled down. 

“I’m Cory-”

“I didn’t fucking finish- Lights on,” Dick Hertz interrupted.  

“ I’m Cory Pitzner ,” the sleeveless man said louder. “Or TDK.”

“What’s it stand for?” Cleo asked. 

“Me.”

“We’ve gone over this- he’s an idiot,” Gunter began. 

“Uh- you’re a dickhead,” the Australian said, cracking open a beer. He seemed to have brought some himself. 

“I’m gonna go with off,” Cory said. 

“Yeah, nobody wants to see your detachable di-”

“Alright-” the older man interrupted. “Should we even be having this conversation? How old are you?” he asked, pointing at Dick Hertz. “And you,” he asked Cleo. 

“Everyone’s an adult, Brian, it’s fine-”

“Dude, I’m 26,” Dick Hertz said. 

“I am 24,” Cleo added. 

“Now can we continue?” Harley asked. 

“I’m Digger Harkness. Captain Boomerang. Boomer.” He spilled some beer on himself and licked it off. Judging from the reactions of some of the more sane members of the group, that was not a socially acceptable thing to do. Noted. 

“Digger’s not even your actual-” Flag began. 

“I’m gonna say off,” Digger said, cutting off Flag. “But I’m bringing the glow in the dark boomerangs.”

“No one is going to have sex with you if you bring glow in the dark boomerangs,” Robert interjected. 

“You ever tried?” 

“Ever tried ?”

“Brian Durlin. Savant. I’m not answering that,” the white-haired man said. 

“Why are you even here if you don’t wanna play along?” Harley asked. 

“Besides the threats?” 

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you’re that scared of me,” Harley said. 

“I just.. I don’t really have anywhere else to be. I’m bored.”

“You don’t even like any of us though,” TDK said.

“Well, unlike everyone here apparently, I knew there would be other people at this event,” Durlin said. 

“What? How?”

“Harley group texted all of us- how did you not all realize this?” Durlin said. 

“Well.” There was a collective pause.
“I didn’t even mean to do that,” Harley admitted.

“So who was actually invited?” Rick asked. 

“Once we get introduced, then you can ask questions.” 

“I am Cleo Cazo. Also, I am Ratcatcher 2. This is Sebastian, say hello Sebastian.” Sebastian waved.

“ Yo !” Dick Hertz yelled. “Why did you get two sick animals when we got the fucked up dog?” 

“I don’t know- I didn’t make the teams,” Rick said. 

“Abner Krill. I’m the Polka Dot Man, I guess. And I- I don’t- I don’t think- It doesn’t matter-”

“Come on, spit it out,” Dick Hertz said. Christopher punched him in the arm. 

“Lay off-” 

“I dunno I… If the lights are on there’s a chance I’ll hallucinate that my partner is my mother, but if the lights are off, I do sometimes glow in the dark.” 

“Dude- what-” 

“You can’t just spring that on me- start again- what about your mum?” Digger asked. 

“Nanaue,” Nanaue spoke up, pointing to himself. 

“He fucking talks?” 

“Yes, he’s very smart,” Cleo said. 

“Enjoy book, nom nom, learn Spanish, and hanging friends.”

“I think you mean hanging out with friends,” Harley said. 

“He’s like... Actually improving,” Christopher noted. Abner thought about what he wanted to say- to make a joke about the fake mustache- and tried to build the confidence to actually do it. 

“Yeah, that can’t be good. You’re getting more human by the hour, it’s scary,” Robert teased. This was his moment. 

“Eventually he’ll figure out the fake mustache and we’ll all be in trouble,” Abner said. He didn’t stutter- he didn’t stumble on his words. Robert cracked a smile, and Cleo giggled. One point for Abner. The other team had no idea what he was talking about, but that didn’t matter. 

“I’m Christopher Smith or Peacemaker. I keep the peace, by any means necessary. Do not call me Pissmaker or I will break your legs. And I’m gonna say lights on.” 

“Yeah that adds up,” Robert said.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Christopher asked.

“Mr tighty whiteys-”

“That’s-”

“If you bring up racism again-”

“Homophobic.”

“It is not!” 

“Abner, is it homophobic?” Christopher asked. There was a pause.

“Wh-Why’d you ask me? Why do I decide?” Christopher paused.

“Are you not gay?” Christopher sounded disturbed by the idea.

“Wh- I- I don’t know-” Abner said.

“That’s not a straight answer- now answer my first question.”

“You’re gay, right?” Cory asked Dick Hertz. Immediately the conversation devolved into everyone accusing each other of being gay- and Abner had to actually consider his sexuality for the first time in his life and felt more uncertain than he thought he should be. 

“How do you know if you’re gay?” Abner asked. 

“Uh- first sign- your name is Abner-” Dick said. 

“Shut up-”

“Well, do you like dick?” Rick asked. 

“No, he’s an asshole.”

“I- Abner I mean the- Not dick like Dick Hertz, dick like the-” 

“Oh my God- I-” Abner continued to stammer and buried his face in his hands. 

“Is anyone here a professional homosexual?” Christopher asked. 

“What the fuck does that mean-” The group had moved out of the circle they were in, at least in part, some leaning closer, others trying to distance themselves. Harley, grinning, started to pass out more alcohol, and offered Dick her ‘soup’, which he ate and then spit out dramatically as if it had injured him. Christopher, Robert, Digger, Rick, and Gunter were now yelling at each other again. Rick was probably technically trying to calm everyone down, but it didn’t sound much different. Nanaue looked back and forth between Cleo, who somehow had managed to fall asleep, and Abner, who had no idea what made him an authority on this in Nanaue’s head. It might just be that he was a friend who wasn’t yelling. Cory was sitting awkwardly, holding a drink that Harley had given him, and trying to occasionally get a word in on the conversation the others were having.  Savant seemed thoroughly entertained now, just sitting back, drinking, and watching them fight. Well, he was glad someone was having a good time. 

“We don’t need a ‘professional homosexual’ to judge this, it’s not homophobic to make fun of you,” Robert snapped. 

“It could be! How do you know!?”

“That sounds like something somebody gay would know!” Dick accused. Abner took another drink. Was he interested in men like that? He thought about Milton. Milton was handsome, sure. Abner could appreciate the attractiveness of most of his good friends. He wished he got some way to contact Milton. He didn’t know if he had a phone. Abner didn’t at the time he knew him, but he could have got the number and then worked on getting the phone. Maybe he had an email. Maybe Abner could figure out some way to get back to Corto Maltese. He would go back to Corto Maltese to be with Milton again. Was that gay? 

“Does anyone here even know anyone gay?” Cory asked. He didn’t bother asking the group who was fighting. “Do you?” he asked Durlin. 

“Hm. Well, I knew this guy named Aleksandr Creote. He was my criminal and uh- romantic partner of… hm…. Thirty years?  Now that I’m thinkin’ about it, that fella might have been gay,” Durlin said. Christopher turned quickly at that.

“Okay- so is it homophobic?” he asked Durlin. 

“I mean- I don’t know- I’m really not a- what was that you said, ‘professional’? Yeah, I’m more of a hobbyist.” 

“Okay- so if you had to in a not-gay way- which dude here would you-” Harley began. 

“Rick Flag,” Christopher said. 

“Javelin,” TDK said. “Absolutely.” 

“Oh, thank you,” Gunter said. “I would also pick me.” 

“You can’t pick you, ya dickhe-” Digger interrupted.
“I’m gonna say Flag as well,” Dick decided. 

“Come on- If you don’t pick now I’m gonna paint your toenails why you sleep, I swear to god-” 

“I’m picking-” Rick said. Abner looked around the people there. Durlin was out. Christopher was out. Robert was out. He really didn’t get the appeal of Gunter- no Gunter. Dick was a no. He didn’t feel strongly about Cory either way. Rick was fine- he trusted Rick- he liked Rick-

“Rick I guess,” Robert sighed. But everyone was picking Rick. 

“Digger,” Abner said quietly. 

“What was that?” Harley asked. 

“Him,” Abner said, pointing to Boomerang. 

“ Boomerang?” Dick demanded. Harley had broken out the nail polish and was pointing it at Rick.  

“He’s- I- He’s handsome-” 

“Well, I’m glad someone here has taste,” Digger said, putting an arm around Abner. “And right back at ya.” Abner shuffled under Boomer’s arm, but he didn’t move off. So Abner stayed there. 

“Final choice, Boomer, you’re taking Abner?” Harley asked. 

“Yeah. Why not? He glows. My boomerangs glow. It works out.” 

“Fuck off,” Robert said.

“What? What’re you mad at?”

“That image is in my brain now. Probably forever,” Robert said, looking from Abner to Digger and taking a long sip of his drink. 

“Rick, Brian, you’ve got five seconds.”

“Dubois,” both said at once. 

“Dude, seriously? More people would wanna do him than me?” Dick asked, pointing at Robert. 

“What do you mean? Look at ‘im,” Durlin said. 

“Have you been near a mirror lately, mate?” Digger asked. 

“Oh my god!” Harley exclaimed. “We’re basically already doing it- it’s time for the ultimate sleepover game- painting each other’s nails and talking about boys!”  That was met with a resounding ‘no’. 

“Nail painting was just the threat-” Dubois said. 

“Paint nails,” Nanaue said, offering his big fingers to Harley. 

“Thank you, Nanaue. I’m glad someone here is secure in their masculinity.” And with that Harley got what she wanted. 

Everyone had to pick a color, now. Nanaue let Harley pick, and she picked a bright pink. Cory picked white. Dick picked red, but on every other fingernail. Christopher picked red, white, and blue, surprising no one. Rick and Robert both went with black. Cleo picked a pastel green. Digger a dark blue, and Gunter a light blue. Durlin chose a dark red.  Abner took the time to actually look through the nail polishes. He kind of liked the idea of having painted nails for a while, and he wanted to pick the color. He struggled to pick between a glittery gold one and a black one. But Robert and Rick already picked black. So Abner took the gold. 

“Does everyone know how to do their nails?” Harley asked. 

“It can’t be like that hard,” Dick said. 

“Looks like I’m doing everyone’s nails then,” Harley said, painting one of Nanaue’s big… toes? Those were not fingernails. “So, Nanaue, have you got any crushes? Any cute shark girls? Cute shark boys?” 

“Hmm,” Nanaue seemed to think about it for a while. “John Constantine.”

“Constantine? Like the wizard?” Harley asked. “When would you ever even see him? How do you know who that is?” 

“On the TV,” Nanaue said. “Belle Reves TV show.” 

“Yo! Why’d the shark get to watch TV? What the fuck-” Dick asked. 

“Are you gonna tell him he can’t?” Robert asked. 

“Nah, but like they kept him in there. Clearly, they could like… Do somethin’ about him.” 

“I doubt it,” Rick said. “Not the first time Waller bit off way more than she could chew.” 

“Okay- Nanaue, you need to keep your hands very still,” Harley said, happy with her work. 

“Hands!” Nanaue said, raising his hands immediately. 

“Yeah- Hands- be gentle!” Harley said. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna win this one, Harley,” Rick said. 

“Alright- you picked second so it’s your turn,” she said to Cory. Nanaue got up and moved to the couch, his hands still straight up. Maybe he did understand. Cory sat down and gave Harley his nails. “Why did you pick Javelin?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Why’d you pick Javelin on our first mission?” 

“That- okay- alright- touché,” Harley said. 

“Also it’s because I feel like he’s the least likely to stab me or think about his mom.” 

“What did Abner ever do to you?” Rick asked. 

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with- I mean there is something wrong with that, no offense, but- yeah-”

“It’s not exactly- It’s not thinking- it’s hallucinating-” Abner tried to defend himself.

“Is that better or worse?” Cory asked. The response was mixed. 

“Okay- are we talking about would I rather hallucinate my mother during sex or think about her uncontrollably, or are we talking about which is worse for-”

“We should play Would You Rather!” Harley gasped.

“How many party games are there?” Abner asked Digger with an exasperated sigh. Digger snorted. 

“Dunno, at least two. Maybe more.” Abner made a thoughtful ‘hm’ noise. “That was a joke.” 

“Oh I- I know,” Abner lied. 

“Sure ya did.” 

“Who’s next?” Harley asked. 

“Me and the red thing, remember?” Dick asked.

“Yes I remember, jeez,” Harley said. 

“I’m not tryna be an ass- I just want to make sure it’s right. This lasts for what, a year?” 

“A fuckin’ year?” Digger asked.

“I wish-”

“Does it seriously last a year?” Cory asked, looking at his drying nails. 

“Around five years actually,” Robert said. Cory’s eyes grew wide. 

“ Five years? Can I rub it off or?”

“No,” Harley said. “I just finished that, don’t rub it off!”

“If you rub it off, your fingernails might come off,” Abner said. He hoped he was getting the joke. He knew fingernail polish couldn’t last that long- he had seen Harley’s change every week or so. Cory flopped back onto the couch, resigned to his nail polish fate. 

“Yo what? How does it last that long?!” Dick asked. 

“It’s chemicals,” Durlin said nonchalantly. 

“Flag- is this shit for real?” Dick asked. 

“Yeah. That’s why I picked black. Goes with anything.” There was a pause, in which everyone kept their poker face as best they could. Then Harley snorted. 

“It lasts like two weeks, max,” she said. 

“Yo I hate you all! Fuck every one of you!” Dick said. Everyone broke into laughter. “Fuck you-” he said to Robert. “Fuck you-” he said to Abner. “Fuck you!” he said to Durlin. “And big fuck you!” he said to Flag. He settled back in to let Harley do his nails. 

“So is Flag still your pick?” 

“No! Fuck you, Flag.” 

“Who’s it gonna be now?” Harley asked. 

“TDK I guess.”

“How come?”

“He’s the only one here I can trust not to be a fuckin’ asshole,” he said. “Seriously- I expected you to do some shit-” he said, pointing to Boomerang. “But the rest of you- damn!” 

“Oh fuck off- why am I the shady one? Do I look shady to you?” he asked, looking to Abner. 

“I-uh-” he should probably lie. “A little.” He did not lie. 

“So ya like bad boys, huh?” Digger asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. Abner felt heat rise to his cheeks and he couldn’t maintain eye contact, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. 

“Okay- so not all your nails?” Harley asked. 

“Yeah. Perfect,” Dick said. “Thanks uh... Harls.” 

“That’s my nickname for her, dickhead-” Dick flipped him off. 

“Hey! Not with wet nails!” Harley said, picked up a tube of Christmas wrapping paper off the floor, and hit him on the head with it. “Alright- Pissmaker-” Christopher snatched the tube from Harley and pointed it at her. “Hey! I said Peacemaker! I said Peacemaker!” 

“Yeah, calm down,” Robert said. 

“Yeah,” Abner added. Christopher gave Harley the wrapping paper back and she bonked him on the head immediately. 

“Hey!” 

“That’s for taking my tube.” She then started to work on his nails. “So, Rick, huh?” 

“You’re all reading way too much into this. He’s a hero and I respect him a lot.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. You like Rick in a very straight way.” 

“Yeah, exactly.” 

“I’m gonna get somethin’ to eat,” Digger said, standing up and stretching. “Call me when you need me.” 

“I will come too,” Cleo said. “Sebastian is hungry.” Abner wordlessly got up and followed them. Digger looked at him, and he tried to smile in a normal way before returning to his flat expression. They moved into the kitchen and Digger started rooting through the fridge like he lived there. Cleo did much the same, going through the cabinets to find crackers, which she ate a few of and shared the rest with Sebastian. Abner stood awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. Digger pulled a can of beer loose and peaked over the door of the fridge to Abner. 

“Want one?” he asked. 

“I-” he knew he wasn’t gonna like it. “No. No thank you.” Digger cracked open the beer and started drinking, spilling a little on his team-building pajamas. 

“We should go out for a drink sometime. What do you like to drink?” 

“I don’t.” 

“Well, would you drink with me?”

“Probably not,” Abner said. He just didn’t like to drink. 

“Hm.” Digger seemed slightly disheartened. He grabbed some lunch meat and closed the fridge, starting to eat that with his fingers between drinks. “You want some?” Abner took some lunch meat, holding it just by his fingertips, trying to figure out how to go about eating it, not wanting to embarrass himself-“You’re supposed to eat it.” Abner shoved the lunch meat in his mouth, giving up on looking normal. “There you go,” he said, turning to the cabinet. “You’re kinda a weird one, huh?” 

“Wh- I mean- Yes.” Digger turned back around, some cookies in tow now. 

“Want some?” he asked. Cleo took the box out of his hand. “Oi!” As he turned to Cleo she tossed the box to Abner, who flinched, but caught it. He looked down at the box, then back to Digger, and then it set in. Digger wrapped one arm around Cleo and the other around Abner- and spun them both, making a show of trying to get the box back but not really hurting either of them effectively. Because he didn’t want to hurt them- Abner reminded himself.They were just messing around. He curled in on the cookie box. Digger was struggling to hold Cleo and Abner and reach the cookies. Which meant Abner had an opportunity.  He handed the box back to Cleo as Digger tried to wrangle him.“Gimme that you little dickhead-” Cleo slipped under his arm and ran to the door of the kitchen. Digger wrapped one arm firmly around Abner’s waist- and looked to the counter, grabbing a plastic spoon. “Ey! Gimmie those cookies or Dottie gets it-” he said, brandishing the spoon wildly. Cleo pretended to gasp- 

“You bastard!” she said. 

“Go on without me, Cleo,” Abner said dramatically. 

“I’ll fuckin’ do it-” Digger said, making a show of pressing the spoon to Abner’s throat, tilting his head up slightly so Cleo could see the way the tip of the spoon pressed into the skin. Abner was forced to stand up straight, his back against Digger’s chest. “Oh, you’re kinda tall,” he noted, as Abner stretched out completely. Digger’s grip was firm, though. He had probably done this with a real knife. Or a really sharp boomerang. Or both. 

“What are you lot up to?” Robert asked, coming into the room. 

“Robert- this is a hostage situation!” Cleo said.

“Yeah, well it’s your turn to get your nails painted.” 

“Ah. Looks like I’m keeping the cookies,” Cleo said, turning away. 

“Wh- well what am I supposed to do with this?” Digger asked, gesturing at Abner with the spoon. 

“Keep him,” Cleo said with a shrug, leaving the room. 

“Wh- Hey!” Abner yelped.

“Damn, that’s cold,” Digger laughed. He lowered the weapon, but didn’t let Abner go, instead he maneuvered Abner around till they were face to face and gave him a once over. “What are you looking at?” Abner asked, lacking confidence and saying it very softly. 

“Tryna figure out if this is a fair trade.” Digger seemed to consider him for a moment, then smirked at him again. “Would you consider yourself a snack?” Abner paused. Was Digger asking if he was edible? 

“He’s not gonna get it, mate,” Robert said, side-eying them. 

“Get what?” Abner asked. 

“Nothin’,” Digger said. “Let’s go back to the living room.” Digger still held on to him. 

“Together?”

“You’re my hostage until rat girl gives me the cookies back. You’re comin’ with me.” Robert rolled his eyes and took a long sip of his drink. Abner let Digger guide him back to the living room, where he sat on the floor, letting Abner go for a moment, before reaching up and making grabby hands at him. Abner looked around- unable to figure out what Digger wanted him to hand him. “C’mere. You’re a hostage. You can’t just wander off. Sit down.” Abner started to sit down next to him before Digger put his hands on Abner’s hips and guided him into his lap. Abner wiggled a little but stayed where he was put. He was a hostage after all. 

“Boomer!” Harley yelled. “Your turn!” She was digging through her nail polishes, trying to find the one he’d picked. 

“Come over here!” he yelled back. They weren’t even ten feet away from each other, and while it was loud, it wasn’t that loud. 

“No! You come here!” 

“Come on, Harls!” Digger said. “Look at this.” He said, gesturing towards Abner. Harley turned, looked back and forth between him and Abner, and then grabbed her nail polish, crawling across the floor instead of standing up. 

“What is going on here?” Harley asked. 

“I’m uh- apparently a snack,” Abner said softly. Harley’s eyes widened and she broke into a smirk, looking to Digger. Abner started to worry about what the connotation of being a snack actually was. 

“He’s a hostage,” Digger corrected. “Rat girl traded him to me for a box of cookies.” 

“Why did Cleo own you in the first place?” Harley asked. 

“He stole your cookies, and then Cleo stole them from him, and he threatened to kill me if Cleo didn’t give them back.” 

“Wh- I did not ! If either of us is shady it’s you. Little lying bastard.” 

“It was with a spoon, but Robert can kill people with a spoon for real, so,” Abner shrugged. 

“Talkin’ about another man while you’re in my arms. I can’t believe you.” Harley took one of Digger’s hands in hers, looking at his nails. She sighed. 

“You’re missing a fingernail, aren’t you?”

“Only two,” Digger said. “They’re 80% still there. That’s a pass, mate.” 

“You’re lucky I have bandaids that match this color,” Harley said, looking at the nail polish. Then she got to work. “So… How’d things work out with Katana? You liked her right- had a little thing-” she mentioned. Abner knew there was some ulterior motive to her asking this, but he didn’t know what it was. 

“I mean- I’m glad you think I got some- as you should- but she really wasn’t uh- that into me.” Neat.

“So, Abby, how’s Milton?” Harley asked. Abner was surprised- he thought the person getting their nails painted was the one who was supposed to be asked questions. He was just a bystander. 

“I don’t know,” Abner said. “I haven’t talked to him since we were in Corto Maltese.” 

“Well, who’s this Milton bloke? Should I be jealous?” Digger asked. 

“He was a really nice guy I met in Corto Maltese. He drove the bus we took around. He was... Really sweet.” 

“Oh,” Digger said. “This uh- Milton guy still around? 

“Yeah, he’s alive.” 

“No, I mean like is he still- you know- are you like an item?” 

“He probably doesn’t remember who I am,” Abner felt much sadder about that than he expected. He wasn’t going to forget Milton. But people didn’t think about Abner for very long. 

“Well, you’re both single then,” Harley said, shrugging. 

“I think everyone here is,” Abner shrugged. “Maybe not Durlin.” 

“Are you comfortable?” Digger asked, seeming more uncertain than Abner had yet to see him. 

“Yeah?” Abner said. He wondered if this was Digger’s way of trying to get him off him. “If you want me to move I will.” 

“Nah, you’re good.” Harley continued to paint his nails, and Abner watched quietly. Harley took off the bandaids on his missing fingernails. 

“I’ll be back, I’ve gotta get the matching ones,” Harley said, getting up and going to the bathroom. Abner glanced around the room. Nanaue was centered on the couch, reading a children’s book aloud, to Dick and Cory, who seemed absolutely bewitched by Nanaue’s ability to read. They both sat on opposite sides of him, hands stuck out stiffly so as not to damage their nails, exchanging glances of awe as Nanaue spoke.  Robert and Durlin had found a corner to watch the party in and slowly drink. Robert’s nails were painted already, Durlin’s not yet, but someone- nearly certainly Harley- had braided a few fake flowers into his hair. 

“So what did she saddle you with?” Robert asked, pointing to his team-building pajamas. 

“They’re arms flexing I think. She drew them herself and then got these printed like this. It’s about Pitzner. He’s called The Detachable Kid. He pops his arms off,” Durlin said. 

“Pops ‘is fuckin’ arms off?” Robert asked, laughing. 

“Then he goes and slaps people, but from twenty feet or so away. He went and tried to poke the soldiers in Corto Matlese- standing out in fronta everybody, giving away our position, and just leaving his body vulnerable- and they went and shot ‘is arms too-” Durlin’s story was broken by his laughter-

“An’ I thought Waller fucked me over,” Robert snorted. Abner glanced from them to Cleo, who was showing Sebastian to Gunter and Rick. Gunter didn’t seem to like Sebastian.  Harley came back with the bandaids, and putting them on Digger’s broken fingernails. 

“Perfect! Okay, here’s one extra bandaid, use it wisely. Gunter! It’s your turn!” Harley said, getting up and walking over to him. He looked grateful, as Cleo was trying to get him to hold Sebastian. Abner glanced down at Digger’s nails. He could swear that the bandaids didn’t quite match the bandaids. He gently took Digger’s hand and brought the nails close to his face, to check, and Digger grasped his hand, rubbing his thumb over Abner’s. Abner thought to tell him that he was just trying to look at his nails- but this was… Kind of nice. Digger was very comfortable. And he had plenty of chances to get rid of Abner. Maybe he actually wanted him there. He moved his other arm across Abner’s torso. Abner swallowed nervously- Digger was kind of holding him. Abner hadn’t been held many times in his life. 

“I- are you doing this on purpose?” Abner asked, not able to look at him and not able to speak up. 

“What’d you say?” asked Digger. He jostled his drink and spilled some down his arm, licking it off himself. Abner couldn’t imagine he would want to be so close to Abner- but he was the one doing it. This had to be a joke then. Some kind of a prank- or he just didn’t realize what was going on. Abner swallowed and tried to ask again, but as he did Digger noticed a dot on his hand starting to glow. “Oi, what the fuck is-” Now he knew- Now he knew what Abner was- he could see he was a freak- he could see he was-

“I’m sorry-” Abner said, starting to get up. 

“Sorry? Why? Does this shit spread?” Digger asked, shaking his hand as if he could shake the dots off- 

“Yo, he’s glowing! Check it out!” Dick said. Everyone looked at him. Fuck, everyone was looking at him. He felt another dot start to fever and glow, neon blue and visible on his skin. He hated that his team-building pajamas were mostly white- his dots were so obvious. He wished he wasn’t there- he shouldn’t have come- he shouldn’t have come to the party- he shouldn’t try to be with the normal people-

“Yeah he does that sometimes,” Harley said. And with that everyone lost interest. Well, everyone but Digger, who pulled him back into his lap, smearing his nail polish slightly. 

“So like it’s not contagious?”

“No, it’s-”

“Cool,” Digger said, wrapped his arms back around Abner, and pulled him very close so that he could get a sip of his drink. “Sure you don’t want some?” 

“I uh- I’ll try it.” Abner reached for it and Digger moved it up to his mouth himself. Abner tried to sip it, and Digger helped, sort of. His hands shook a good bit, and Abner was nervous, and unused to being fed things. Together they spilled a mouthful or two of the beer right down Abner’s chin, which ran down his neck and into his shirt. Abner almost gagged from the taste of the beer, and then he did gag when Digger licked the spilled beer off his collarbone. Abner choked and coughed up some of the beer, the rest of it either coming out of his nose or down his throat. Digger jolted and cursed himself- 

“Oh fuck- I’m used to spilling shit on myself- I’m sorry, mate- I didn’ mean ta-” 

“No- I- It’s cool-” Abner said, voice breaking. 

“I don’t normally lick people- I swear to God, mate- that was a fuck up- I’m sorry-” 

“R-really it’s fine- I don’t uh-” What the fuck was he supposed to say? I don’t mind. Kind of like it actually. Hell no- Abner just stayed quiet instead. 

“Come on, let’s go to the kitchen, get you actually cleaned up,” Digger said, standing up. Abner started to get up and Boomer offered him a hand, helping him to his feet. Which meant they were now standing rather close.  Digger chuckled awkwardly, “I mean unless you want me to lick the rest of it off.” He winked in an exaggerated way. This was a joke for him, clearly- Abner laughed awkwardly, a short bark of a noise. 

“You could-” Fuck, he shouldn’t have said that. Digger would think he was weird- he was weird. Digger snorted. Oh thank god- he thought it was a joke. Because it was- of course- it was a joke- why wouldn’t that be a joke? It was a joke. It was fine. He had to be drunk- he needed to get sober again. Digger continued to the kitchen. Abner paused lost in thought as he tried to figure out how to get sober again.

“You comin’?” Digger asked. Abner  took a breath, and followed. As he stepped through the threshold, Digger threw him a damp cloth. Abner caught it. 

“Here ya are. You can clean yourself up a little.” Abner started to rub the beer off his chest and neck.  He saw the gears in Digger’s head clicking. “I mean, I suppose I could help you,” he said, swaggering closer. “Since I made this mess,” he said, putting a hand gently on Abner’s chest. Heat rose in Abner’s cheeks, and he started to clean himself faster, glancing away from Digger. Digger laughed a little and moved away. The question of what it would be like to kiss him floated into Abner’s brain. Abner made himself stop thinking about it, instead pouring cold water over the cloth and cleaning the rest of his neck. He had to unbutton his shirt to clean his chest properly. 

“Where’d you get the rag?” he asked. Digger pointed to the sink. Abner wrung the rag out and left it on the side of the sink. Abner started to button his shirt back up again, but he was shaking slightly. 

“Maybe you should just take it off,” Digger said. Abner’s brain short circuited, and he knew he was blushing. This must be so funny for Digger- 

“Hey! Polka! It’s your turn,” Harley called. Abner didn’t have time to respond before Harley pulled him across the room and into the bathroom, locking the door. 

“You didn’t paint anyone else’s nails in the bathroom,” Abner noted. 

“Yeah, well, this is time for some serious girl talk,” Harley said. She sat on the toilet lid and sat Abner down on the rim of the tub. She took one of his hands. “Your nails are very nice.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Alright, so,” Harley began, unscrewing the nail polish. “So, how’s Boomer been?” she asked. 

“Harley, please just be blunt.”

“Okay, so I’m not tryna be an asshole, but you do realize Boomer’s flirtin’ with ya, right?” There was a pause. 

“As a joke?” Abner asked. 

“Okay,” Harley said, swiftly painting his pinky nail. “So it’s kind of obvious that you’ve been pushed around all your life, and you don’t have any self-confidence, and you can’t imagine yourself as a desirable man,” Harley began, painting another nail. 

“That’s obvious?” Abner asked, voice wavering.  

“Oh yeah, super obvious,” she said, panting another nail. Abner felt worse, now. So everyone knew he was a loser. It was obvious. He looked away from Harley. 

“Anyways, there was a but there. All that stuff, but people do like you! People like you a lot. And I know Boomer- he’s hitting on you. Unironically,” Harley clarified. 

“You’re sure?” Abner asked. Harley had painted a few more nails. 

“Okay, hold this hand still,” she said, releasing his right hand and taking his left. “And Abner, he’s like- laying all over you and he’s offering you stuff- he never shares shit with the rest of us. He’s making flirty remarks but in a way he can claim was a joke if you’re not into it to save his ego. This is Boomer Romance 101.” 

“How do you know?”

“He’s done this same kinda thing with a lot of people. Coupla different squad members too,” Harley said. 

“So he’ll settle for anyone, then?” Abner asked. 

“What? No! All the many, many, many people Boomer has hit on are like… fives at least.”

“Does that include me?” Abner asked softly. 

“Absolutely! You’re like a 5.5 to a 6,” Harley said. “That seems kinda low, sorry, I just… Something about you puts me off,” she said, remembering she was painting his nails now and continuing. “Considering my track record with guys, it’s probably a good thing I’m not really attracted to you.” 

“A 5.5 to a 6 is an upgrade for me, don’t worry,” Abner said. 

“See, that’s the thing! You act like you’re a two, but you’re not! You’re kind of a cutie! Boomer thinks you’re a cutie, and he’s got better taste than I do sometimes. Anyways- backing up- do you realize that he’s hitting on you?”

“I do now.” 

“Okay, is he making you uncomfortable?” Harley asked, trying to smooth out the nail polish of his ring finger. Abner stammered for a moment. “Okay, knowing that he’s flirting with you, are you unhappy with that for reasons other than ‘I’m a sad little polka dot man and he could do better’?”

“I-” Abner wasn’t good at standing up for himself- “I don’t sound like that,” he managed, softly. 

“Aw, good for you,” Harley said. “But answer my question.” 

“I like it,” Abner said quickly, then realization hit him, “I’m- I uh- I shouldn’t- I’m sorry-”

“You’re allowed to like it when people flirt with you, Pokie,” Harley said. 

“Okay... Well, I do. I like it.” 

“Alright,” Harley said, putting the cap back on the nail polish. “Then flirt back.” 

Abner didn’t exactly know how to flirt. Which Harley should know, seeing as he couldn’t even identify someone else flirting with him. He was released from the bathroom with no pointers, Harley going off to paint her own nails, and offer to paint Sebastian’s. Abner swallowed heavily and walked back to Digger’s side. He cracked open another beer, smudging his nails further, and looked up at Abner. 

“Welcome back.” 

“Thank you,” Abner said, sitting down next to him. 

“Want some?” 

“I’m good.” 

“You really don’t drink, huh?” Digger asked. 

“I just- I like to- I’m just not used to how it tastes,” Abner said. “But I would... I’d go… Places… With you.” 

“What?” Digger asked. Fuck this was not working. 

“Earlier- you- you said-” Shit- shit- “You said we should get a drink sometime,” Digger smirked. 

“You’d go places with me, then?” 

“I don’t like to drink, but I would go with you. I’d be a good designated driver I guess.” 

“A designated driver?” Digger was not impressed. 

“Thousands of people die in drunk driving accidents every year,” Abner noted. 

“Yeah…” And any hope for a conversation was dead. “That’s why I just walk around drunk. But uh…” Digger tried again, “I guess I could use a designated driver.” He ran his fingers through Abner’s hair, pushing it off his face. “Or a bit of arm cand-” Abner felt a touch of wet on his head and hair- the nail polish- “Fuck! Ah shit-first I spill a beer on you, now I’ve smeared polish all over you- I’m not normally this disoriented. We really shouldn’a pregamed before we got to this party-”

“Pregamed?” Abner asked. 

“Yeah- me and the boys- never mind, they’re not my boys- me an’ Cory an’ Dick drank a bit before we got here.” 

“How much did you drink?” Abner asked. Around 30 standard drinks could kill someone- an overdose included vomiting and clamminess and low body temperature and seizures and- 

“Enough to lose the weasel,” Digger said with a belch. Changes in mental state- that would be a good reason to flirt with Abner- slow or irregular breathing, and slow heart rate. Abner moved across him, sitting over his lap and laying his head on Digger’s chest, trying to gauge if his heartbeat or breathing was off. “Oh, well hello,” Digger said, lifting Abner’s chin, smudging more nail polish on him. “Gettin’ a little forward, huh?” 

“I’m trying to- Digger you could be dying of alcohol poisoning!”

“You don’t need an excuse to sit in my lap,” Digger said, putting his hands on Abner’s hips. 

“You’re not alright-” 

“I’m not that drunk-”

“You lost your weasel!”

“It’s not my weasel,” Digger said, rolling his eyes. “You know what weasel I’m talkin’ about? That thing is wiggly-” 

“Digger what if-”

“I promise I am fine. I’m at least this drunk most of the time.” 

“I-” Abner was in his lap now, on top of him, nearly chest to chest. “I’m sorry- I should-” he started to move away, this was too much, Digger couldn’t want- 

“If you wanna, you can stay there,” Digger said. Abner froze. 

“I uh- I would like that- I mean- I-”

“What was that? I’m gonna need you to say that louder.” Abner cleared his throat. He kept speaking too quietly- Digger couldn’t hear him. He took a deep breath, and 

“I would like that,” Abner said. Digger looked proud and smug and unfortunately charming. He still had his hands on Abner’s hips. He felt giddy- this was real. Digger was doing it on purpose, and because he wanted to, not to make fun of him. The idea that Digger might in some way want him crossed his mind. It was overwhelming and exciting- 

“Yo!” Dick yelled. Abner wasn’t sure if he was insanely loud or if Abner was just sensitive right then. “We’re goin’ to the gas station next door!” 

“Come on, bitches, we’re all going,” Harley said. 

“Just a little longer,” Cleo said softly, trying to sleep on the couch. 

“Harls, I’m fuckin’ busy-” 

“Fuckin’ busy or busy fuc-” 

“Shut up, Quinn.”

“Swear to God, if you don’t get up and come with us, I’m gonna tell him about Pinky,” Harley said. In an instant Digger flipped Abner off his lap and stood up. He clapped his hands together.

“Alright let’s go,” Digger announced. 

The gas station clerk looked absolutely miserable as the group of twelve descended upon the store. Abner had no idea what time it was, other than night. Late night probably. Or early morning. He didn’t really want anything in the gas station, so he just stayed close to his friends. He clung to Digger at first, then got sort of lost and found Robert, who’s sleeve he gently grasped. Robert let him hold on and follow him around for a while, shaking Abner off only to go to the bathroom. Abner wandered around the store a little, bumping into Cory and Dick and sticking with them. They went to the slushy machine and started mixing the colors immediately despite the sign on the machine in giant letters saying not to do that. Abner could swear he heard laughing. 

“Hey, loser! Nice pajamas!” Abner recognized that voice. He didn’t respond, looking at the ground. Dick turned. 

“Are you talkin’ to me?” 

“Nah, I’m talkin’ to the polka-dot-pussy.” Of course, Calendar Man would be out of prison now, of course, he had to live in Gotham, of course, he had to be in that gas station then- Abner started walking away, trying to avoid him entirely. Dick and Cory followed him though. 

“Who the fuck is that?” Cory asked. 

“Julian Day,” Abner said. “They call him Calendar Man.” 

“You’re gonna let fuckin’ Calendar Man shit talk you to your face?” Dick said. 

“I mean he was really talking to my back-”

“That’s not what that means,” Cory said. 

“He’s done this for years.”

“You let fuckin’ Calendar Man shit talk you for years ?” Dick asked. “Dude, why?”

“My mom used to do the same kind of thing. She didn’t call me a pussy but… People just do this sometimes, it’s fine.” 

“Hell no, fuck that,” Dick said. “If I were- If I were you, you know what I’d do?” 

“What?”

“I’d walk over there, shove him into a wall, and say ‘suck my polka dot dick’. Fuckin’ beat his ass.”

“I can’t-”

“He’s like a little skinny pencil man- you could totally beat his ass!” Cory said. 

“Who’s ass are we beating?” Abner jumped. It was just Digger- 

“Fuckin’ Calendar Man-” Dick said. “He’s like sulkin’ around in here and calling your man a pussy-” 

“Well I’ll go talk to him,” Digger said. 

“No, man! It’s gotta be him,” Dick snapped, pointing to Abner. 

“Yeah! You gotta show him you’re not a pussy,” Cory said. “If you hide behind Boomerang you’ll look like a pussy.” 

“What do I even say to him?”

“Tell him to suck your dick,” Dick said again. 

“Tell him you’ll kill him,” Digger said. They started to move, looking for Calendar Man. 

“What’s his name again?” Cory asked. 

“Julian-”
“Call him his real name, go up and say Julian-”

“Suck my dick,” and “I’ll kill you,” were said at the same time. They found Calendar Man, who was digging through the chip aisle. 

“Get his ass!” Dick said, shoving Abner towards him. Julian looked up at him and snickered. 

“What? You gonna throw your little polka dots at me?” Abner tried his absolute hardest to combine what they told him- not to let Cory or Dick or Digger down- he had to say it-

“Julian,” he started. He could hear Cory, Dick, and Digger mumbling to each other. I’ll kill you. Suck my dick. “I’ll suck your dick.” 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he heard Digger mutter. Abner was so embarrassed he felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes. He said it so confidently- fuck .  

“Are you crying?” Julian asked, seeming genuinely concerned. 

“No,” Abner said, voice breaking. 

“You’re the weirdest fucking loser-” Abner punched him in the face. 

“Yeah! Beat his ass!” Julian punched him back. There wasn’t as much force behind it as Abner expected, but his knuckles were sharp. It didn’t hurt at all at first, he was just stunned. Abner didn’t exactly know how to fight like this, but he was pretty sure he could figure it out. He stepped forward and shoved Julian as hard as he could. It was actually really easy to push him down. Abner was starting to feel that punch, and years of pent-up anger all at once. He pinned Julian to the ground with one hand and started punching him in the face, over and over. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Cory, Dick, and Digger were cheering him on. He aimed for Julian’s nose, hitting him with all his weight. There was a crunch, and Abner felt something wet. That stopped Abner for a moment. He leaned back and looked at the blood on his fist. 

“Oh, shoot,” Abner said softly. 

“Hey!” the clerk snapped. “Take that shit outside or I’ll call the cops!” Julian got in one more good punch, punching him in the jaw and making him bite his tongue. “Hey!” 

“Come on! Let’s go!” Julian snapped, shoving Abner off him and standing up. “Let’s fuckin’ go!” Abner coughed and a bit of blood dripped down his chin. He really bit the fuck out of his tongue- everything was starting to hurt. He shouldn’t be doing this- shit. What if Batman came? 

“Kick his ass! You can do it!” Cory yelled. Abner was gonna do it. Batman be damned. He got up and walked with Julian to the parking lot. 

“Hey! What happened?” asked Harley. 

“Are you okay?” Cleo said. 

“Friend?” Nanaue asked, sniffing the air. He could probably smell the blood. He could hear more murmuring in the store. Cory, Dick, and Digger followed. Christopher joined. Abner half expected him to beat the shit out of both of them to keep them from fighting, but apparently, Calendar Man and Polka Dot Man fighting in a parking lot was not a threat to national security. Julian cracked his knuckles. 

“So how do we start this-” Abner got his answer in the form of a punch to the gut. “Fuck you!” Abner wanted to fight- he wanted to keep beating the shit out of Julian, but he froze.

“Come on, Abner!”  Abner curled in on himself a little and Julian punched him in the face, once, twice, three times- Abner put his hands up and tried to shield his face. Julian, still wildly hitting, hit him on the dot on his hand. It hurt horribly and burst with a loud crackle. 

“ Fuck! ” Julian yelled. Abner looked up. He had been burned- charred. He was holding that burnt hand, leaning over. He was in a lot of pain. It would be nice of Abner to stop. But nothing about this was nice. He grabbed the back of Julian’s head and yanked his face down, ramming his knee up, hitting him in the nose again. Now there was real blood spatter on his pajamas. Julian crunched in, and then stood up, lunging at Abner, scratching him. He shoved Abner back and he landed on the pavement. Something hurt- something hurt bad. Julian was on top of him now- mostly scratching him, but trying to punch him. Abner grabbed one of his hands. “Nice nail polish, you fuckin’ bitch-” He tried to roll him- shove him off or get the bastard of him-

“I’ll- I’m gonna- I’ll-” Abner was trying to think of a threat- trying not to fuck it up again. 

“What, suck my dick?” Abner slammed his head against Julian’s face, which stunned him enough for Abner to shove him off. 

“Pokey!” Christopher yelled. Abner looked up, fortunately. Christopher had thrown a beer bottle at him. It hit Abner in the chest but didn’t shatter, and he turned it around and fumbled with it. “Break it and slit his throat!” Abner hit the bottle against the ground, but it didn’t break the first time. He looked at Julian and felt all that anger build up again. Julian looked absolutely terrified. 

“Dude, calm the fuck down! Calm the fuck down!” Julian said, starting to crawl back. “I like your nail polish, it looks good-” Abner tried again to break the bottle. 

“What the hell is going on out here?” Rick yelled. Julian flinched as Rick yelled. As Robert and Durlin followed, Julian got up and ran off. 

“Polka Dot Man almost killed a guy,” Christopher said. 

“Almost killed a guy?”

“The dude was harassing him and they got in a fistfight and this fuckin’ weirdo gave Abner a bottle and told him to kill him,” Dick clarified, gesturing towards Peacemaker with ‘this fuckin’ weirdo’. 

“Jesus Christ,” Rick sighed. Digger walked to Abner’s side and helped him up off the ground. Digger gently brushed the blood off Abner’s chin with his thumb. He thought about kissing him, and pushed it away again. 

“You ever fought before?” 

“Not like that. I normally just turn them into my mom in my head and kill them with the dots.” 

“You’re lucky you’re handsome because you’re a fuckin’ weird one, mate.”

“I’m sorry-”

“S’alright, I’m kind of a weird one too,” Digger said. “I’m gonna teach you how to fight one day. Fight for real.” 

“I’d like that.” 

“Alright everybody, let’s head back before the cops show up,” Rick announced. 

“Big leader voice,” Cleo said to Abner. He laughed. For a man who just got in a fight outside a gas station, he felt fantastic. It might be that he was in the very least not yet sober. It might be that he had always believed he would die in that lab, and never get to do any of this. Either way, Abner could hear his heart beating in his chest, and it felt great.

They shuffled back up the stairs, clumping together in the hall, and watched Harley tried to get into her apartment. 

“Hey dude, you want some?” Dick asked, poking Abner’s shoulder. Abner turned. Abner couldn’t logically peace together a time when Dick could have bought that slushy but had it nonetheless. 

“Oh- Thank you- yeah-” 

“Okay, you should like waterfall it though. I don’t want your blood in my shit”

“Waterfall?”

“Yeah, dude, like tilt your head back and I’ll pour it in your mouth.” Abner did what he said. There was a moment when none of the slushy was coming out and Abner felt like an idiot just standing there with his mouth open. Then Dick shook it a little and a chunk of slushy fell out and landed mostly on Abner’s face. Dick and Abner both started to laugh and he had to struggle to muffle his giggles to avoid spewing slushy everywhere. 

“Come on, Harley, it is time for bed,” Cleo said. 

“You try ta get these fuckin’ keys in here- it’s like- it’s like the Riddler came by and fucked with my door- it just doesn’t work-”

“So what was the story behind your little battle for the planet of the idiots back there?” Robert asked, his words uncharacteristically unclear. 

“What?”

“Why were you fighting Calendar Man?” 

“He uh- He picks on me a lot. Well, he used to. He might not after that…” 

“That was a lot more than- lot more than fuckin’ with a school-yard bully- You were mad, you were.” 

“He- he made me feel like shit for years-” Abner said. “Like as soon as he got to Belle Reves... He was the only one there who ever talked to me too- It was just every day- just ‘fuck you Polka Dot Man, you’re a fuckin’ pussy’ this and ‘you should be a clown’ that-”

“I can’t get it,” Cleo said, giving the keys to Robert. Robert sighed and took the keys to the door. 

“Harley, maybe I’m stupid- but isn’t your door on the right?” 

“Oh fuck- that’s the neighbor’s-” Robert turned to Harley’s actual door and let them all in.  They stumbled back into the room and settled down, the couch getting taken up immediately. Digger flopped onto the floor and Abner flopped onto him. Abner flinched- something hurt. Fuck- he had done something to his back during that fight. 

“You alright?” 

“My back hurts,” Abner said. Digger sighed heavily, sat up, and then pulled Abner into a sitting position. 

“Let’s see how bad it is.” Digger turned him around, to look at his face. “You got one hell of a bruise on your forehead… Little cut,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” Digger got up, and went to the kitchen. Abner’s head hurt. A lot. He touched the bruise Digger had seen. “Harls, what rag do you care the least if I get blood on?” 

“Blood?” Harley asked. “Get that kinda pink one from the bathroom.” Digger headed across the living room, stepping over Cory, who might be passed out. He got the pinkish wash cloth and came back. He flopped back down next to Abner. He had something else too- Abner realized it was rubbing alcohol when it burned and fizzed in the cut on his forehead. 

“ Ah! Fu -izzlesticks,” Abner said, gritting his teeth. 

“When you headbutt someone, you want it to be mostly your head on their face. If you hit forehead to forehead like you did, then it’s just bone vs bone. You don’t want it to be fair like that.” 

“I think I hit his nose mostly.”

“Yeah well that’s probably why you’ve got a cut and not a concussion,” Digger said. “You don’t have a concussion, right?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, you know everything about alcohol poisoning but nothin’ about concussions?” 

“It’s hard to tell what’s drunk and what’s concussed,” Abner said. 

“Well... Yeah, that’s fair enough,” Digger said. “Did you blackout at all?” 

“No,” Abner said. “I didn’t.”

“That’s good,” Digger said. He moved to Abner’s eyebrow. “Got you in the eye pretty good. That’ll bruise.” He gently dabbed that with the rag too. “Cut up your nose,” he noted. He cleaned the blood off Abner’s nose and then touched that cut up too. “That could use a bandaid. Noses bleed a fuckin’ lot.” Digger remembered then the extra bandaid Harley had given him, and took it off and put it over Abner’s nose. They were very close, now. Digger licked his lips. Abner swallowed heavily. “How's this feel?” he asked, rubbing Abner’s cheek softly. 

“It hurts.”

“Yeah, that’ll be a bruise.” 

“You know a lot about this.”

“I been in a lotta fights. What, 51 counts of aggravated assault now?” 

“ 51 counts of aggravated assault?!” 

“C’mon, we were both in Belle Reves. I know you’ve done somethin’, ” he said. 

“I mean- Yes- but that’s so many fights-”

“You just committed assault a few minutes ago. If you got that bottle broken then I’d probably be assault with a deadly weapon or somethin’ else stupid.” Abner licked his lips nervously.

“I hope he doesn’t call the police.”

“You’re both felons, and he beat you up nearly as bad as you beat him. I mean you burned the fuck out of him with your uh… you thing… but that was on him. Me an’ Cory an’ Dick all saw that though- he punched that dot outta you.” He tilted Abner’s head up, looking at his chin. He remembered that hit. It really hurt now. “Where’d all that blood come from? Was that all him?”

“I bit my tongue.” 

“Ah fuck. Alright. We’ll get back to that.” He looked down at Abner’s chest. “These pajamas are not helpin’. I can’t fuckin’ tell what’s blood and what’s the pattern.” Digger put the rag down and unbuttoned Abner’s shirt. He stammered and felt heat rise in his face. He hoped Digger couldn’t see the blush for the bruises. Digger shoved Abner’s shirt down his shoulders, and it fell on the floor. “Wish this coulda happened under more romantic circumstances, but here we are,” Digger mumbled and Abner couldn’t process it. 

“Wh- What did you say?”

“You either heard me or you didn’, mate.” He titled Abner’s head up gently, looking at his neck. “He scratched the fuck outta you.” Digger’s hand was warm and rough, covered in calluses. Abner refused to think about what that hand brushing his neck did to him. Then Digger’s hand moved down his throat and to his chest. It burned where he had been scratched but he didn’t dare move. “Probably freaked out after you melted his hand,” Digger chuckled. Oh fuck, he kind of liked that too. He glanced back at Digger. He was looking down at the scratches on Abner’s neck. His eyes were grey. They were close enough that Abner could tell his eyes were grey. Then he glanced up and Abner felt a chill run down his spine. “Where did it hurt, again?” Abner knew what he wanted to say but he couldn’t say the words. “Here, maybe?” he asked, running his hands up Abner’s sides. Abner didn’t know to expect it, and didn’t have the time to suppress the whimper it caused. Oh god, he was chuckling again- his hands were so strong and firm- and fuck whatever he had done to  his back hurt- a sharp pain- but he could deal with that later. Digger kept leaning closer, spurred on by the little noises Abner was trying to muffle. Abner let Digger lean him back, till his back touched the couch. Pain shot through him but he didn’t care. He let Digger lean over him, and he noticed when he glanced down at his lips. Abner was inexperienced, but he was also a quick learner. He tilted his head, slightly, trying to do it so subtly that if he was reading it wrong- that if this was a very elaborate joke- he could pretend he hadn’t. Digger noticed. He moved forward quickly, pressing their lips together. Abner expected it to be like spin the bottle- to be quick and kind of nothing. Instead he felt chills go through his body and a thrill strong enough to make him forget about the pain in his back. 

“What did I tell you! I know a gay guy when I see one,” Christopher said loudly. Abner had completely forgotten that anyone else was in the room. Digger pulled away to say

“Fuck off!” He was so confident, and handsome- somehow the smudge of blood on his lips made it even better. It was proof, in a sense, that it happened, that Abner hadn’t imagined it. 

“I fuckin’ knew it, nobody here is straight,” Dick murmured. 

“You realize you’re somebody here, right?” The fight that spurred up after that one was rather lethargic, especially without Digger taking part in it. Digger licked his lip, then put his fingers to it, running his thumb over the blood and inspecting it. 

“Oh, that’s blood.” He paused. “Oh, your tongue, right,” Digger picked the cloth back up. “Back on track.” He pulled Abner back up. “Your back was fucked, right?”

“Yeah, it hurts but I dunno if I did anything to it-” Digger spun him around. 

“Oh, fuck- That’s- Yeah you did,” Digger said. “That’s glass.” 

“Glass!?” Abner exclaimed. 

“Yeah, I think Calendar Man rolled you in glass- fuck.” Digger started to pick the pieces out of his back and dropped them into an empty beer can. “You’re tougher than you look.”

“Thank you,” Abner said. “I think you’re about as tough as you look.” Digger chuckled. 

“This is gonna hurt.” The rubbing alcohol did hurt, but Abner didn’t flinch much. He was kind of used to getting hurt. “I think I got it all out. Tell me if it still feels gritty or keeps hurting, alright?” Abner turned back around. “What else happened?” There was a pause. 

“He burst the dot on my hand.” Digger took Abner’s hands in his. He brushed the gravel off his hands. 

“Scratched you a bit too,” Digger said. “Calendar Man is one mean son of a bitch.” He rubbed his thumb over the hole in Abner’s hand. “That’s pretty bad…” He cleaned the blood off Abner’s hand. The dot had torn through his hand, leaving behind a patch of stretched skin. It was always worse when they tore through his skin instead of being expelled. Even after it had been cleaned, it looked rough. “Hey, Harls, have you got any super glue?” 

“Yeah, over there.” Digger sighed, and got up, knowing Harley wouldn’t get up and get it for him. Abner picked at the leftover skin, pulling a portion of it off. It hurt, but the skin was definitely dead. 

“Ugh, fuck- don’t do that,” Digger said, sitting back down. He took Abner’s hand in his, and held the wound shut, putting the super glue in it. Digger held the wound closed as the glue hardened. “Alright… Now just the tongue. We’re gonna have to go to the sink.” They got up and went to the bathroom. “You’ll wanna clean out the blood in your mouth- like wash your mouth out.” Abner cupped some water in his hands and gargled with it, spitting out a surprising amount of blood. “That’s not great.” 

“It doesn’t feel great.” 

“Yeah if your tongue starts gettin’ hot or numb or something, speak up,” Digger said. “Well… If you can speak.. Fuck.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Abner said. He straightened up and rolled his tongue in his mouth. He stretched, feeling the soreness in his body. He still had blood spatter on his hands. He struggled to wash his un-glued hand without wetting the glue but got most of the blood off. As he turned around, Digger grinned at him. “What are you-”

“In the best way possible, you look kinda good beaten up.” 

“Beaten up?” Abner asked. 

“I dunno, there’s something… rugged. The bandaid is a good look. The bruises… I could think of some better ways to give you bruises though.” 

“I uh- better ways?” Abner asked. 

“You know what a hickey is, right?” 

“I uh- I mean…”

“Come on, I’m sure-”

“I uh-” Abner paused. “I’m a visual learner.” 

“A visu- Oh. Well,” Digger said, putting his hands on Abner’s hips and bringing him closer. “Well, lemme show ya-”

“Guys, I gotta shit, please leave the bathroom,” came the somewhat whiny voice of The Detachable Kid. 

“Fuck sake,” sighed Digger. They moved out of the bathroom, relinquishing it to Cory. “When I get the chance I’m gonna cover you in a whole new type of dots.” 

“A whole new type of dots?”

“All across your neck. Your jaw. Your chest.”

“Wow,” Abner said softly. “That’s- wow- I- I hope you do.” Digger said something else, probably something else that would make his knees weak, but Abner couldn’t hear it over the sound of about six air mattresses being blown up at once. Harley’s neighbors had to hate her so much. 

“Everybody get on the couch,” Harley said. “You gotta get off the air mattresses so they can blow up.” Harley was standing on a table.  Digger jumped onto the couch and Abner tried to clamber onto a chair. Nanaue had moved into the kitchen, as he was too big to get on the couch. Cleo was sleeping on the couch, unbothered by the movements of everyone else or the six air mattresses being blown up. Sebastian noticed, but stayed by her side. Christopher was also sleeping, and he rolled over, falling into the cracks between the air mattresses. Abner should have said something, but he didn’t make any comment as he watched Christopher sink between the mattresses. Dick and Gunter had gotten on top of the couch. Rick laid on the couch, somewhat lethargically. Robert and Durlin walked into the kitchen casually, not bothering with jumping onto the couch. The mattresses rose and became more firm, before one by one the mattresses filled and the motors turned off. There was a pause. 

“Guys?” Cory called, from the bathroom. “I can’t get out.”

“Damnit!” Harley said. “Somebody help me get him out of there.” Gunter and Rick jumped across the mattresses, struggling to lift the one in front of the door. After a lot of struggling and stumbling they managed to release Cory from the bathroom. They all struggled to navigate the living room of air mattresses. Harley wriggled across the room and ran into her bedroom. There was a pause as everyone who had avoided them descended upon the mattresses. Harley threw dozens of blankets over them. “Okay everybody, let’s get snuggled.” Robert, Durlin, Dick, and Cory absolutely did not ‘get snuggled’. Well at least not on purpose. Nanaue stretched out over three mattresses and held or touched everyone that he could. Gunter was on one side of Harley and Rick was on the other. Christopher was still missing in action, somewhere down between the mattresses. Digger stretched out. His torso was on the couch and his legs were on one of the mattresses. He pulled blankets up to him and stretched an arm out. Abner crawled to his side, and laid there. He wiggled around for a while before laying his head on Digger’s chest. 

Abner woke up with a weight around his neck. He lived with a weight around his neck- he knew this weight. The power dampener just felt like that. He supported his neck with his hands as he rolled over. It hurt when he rolled over without supporting his neck. But he realized as he turned that the dampener didn’t move the way it was supposed to. He realized that it was also much warmer than it had ever been. He blinked his eyes open and realized that this was not his power dampener. It was the arm of one Digger Harkness. Who had looped his arm around Abner’s neck in his sleep, holding him close. The memories of his drunken escapades from the night before floated back into Abner’s mind, not bothering sticking around or being clear for his sake. 

“Oh shoot,” he said softly. He had kissed four people and one shark. He beat the shit out of Calendar Maan. The things he had said to Digger- the things Digger had said to him. He glanced around the room, wondering if anyone had seen the way they were holding each other. Almost everyone had probably seen them kiss- Cory might have heard the things they said in the bathroom. People could be looking at them now. He fidgeted and rolled over, so his back was facing Digger. His whole body hurt as he moved. He wondered if he had a concussion. This was insane. How did this happen? How was drunk Abner this bad at running his life? He felt Digger shift, and then the warmth of the other man as he laid against Abner’s back, arms around him. Now they were spooning. “Oh shit.” This seemed like an ‘oh shit’ moment. He felt the gentle touch of Digger’s facial hair against his cheek as he moved even closer. Abner couldn’t believe he wanted this- Digger had hit on him because he was drunk- he didn’t want Abner- no one wanted Abner- he sat up abruptly. 

“Wh- Come on now, where are you going..?” Digger asked. Abner got up and writhed across the partially deflated mattresses. “Oh come on- Stay here with me-” he grumbled. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Shut up and snuggle me-”

“Are you still drunk?”

“I am way too fuckin’ sober for whatever you’re doing- lay down.” Abner paused. It didn’t seem real but… He curled back up and let Digger hold him. The other man squeezed him tight with one strong arm and kissed his cheek. Abner smiled, and drifted back to sleep there.

Abner woke up on the floor. Well, mostly on the floor. His back was still on the couch. The air mattresses collapsed at some point in the night. Abner wiggled towards where Digger was supposed to be. And he wasn’t there. Abner sat up. He looked around for him. He couldn’t see him. He sat up and looked at the bathroom. The door was closed. Digger was just in the bathroom. Abner would wait for him. He dozed off for a little while. He opened his eyes again as he heard the sink turn off. Out stepped Gunter, who was trying to dry his hands on his team building pajamas. Abner got up and went to the kitchen. He expected Digger to be there, eating something that wasn’t breakfast food. He would offer Abner some. And no matter what it was he would take it. But that didn’t happen. Digger wasn’t there either. 

“Mornin’ Pokie,” Harley said with a yawn. 

“Good morning,” Abner said. “Do you know where Boomerang is?” 

“Mm… I dunno,” Harley said. 

“He left this morning. ‘Round five. Real fuckin’ early,” Robert said. Abner paused.

“Oh.” 

“Weird,” Harley said. “He hates getting up early.” Abner wished he hadn’t asked. He wished he’d slept in longer, or just waited for Digger. He had enjoyed feeling like someone wanted him. He enjoyed being held. Abner longed to be wanted. But he wasn’t. And it didn’t surprise him. But it hurt.

“What time is it now?” asked Abner. 

“Oh fuck… It’s noon…” Abner walked back to the living room to see who all was left. Nanaue was in the middle of the mattresses, every bit of air under him squished out. Cleo was on the back of the couch, out cold. Gunter brushed past Abner on the way to the kitchen. Durlin had probably left. Rick was helping Cory try to find his arms, which seemed to have popped off in his sleep. They uncovered Christopher who seemed to have managed to take his pants off in his sleep, once again in his ‘tighty-whities’. 

“Hey, yo, Dots,” Dick said, poking Abner’s shoulders. He turned and jumped when he saw what he was being poked with. It was one of Cory’s detached arms. “Guess what I stole.”

“You stole his arms?” he whispered, way too loud. 

“Yeah but shhhh!” Dick said. Dick brought Abner over to his stache of arms. 

“Blackguard, what the fuck?” Harley asked. 

“Shut up- he’s gonna-”

“You stole my arms?” Cory asked. “Why would you do that?”

“Damnit!” Abner excused himself to go expel the dots. It was easier this time and no one in the street seemed to see. He turned back to the mirror. His hair was a mess. His face was bruised, and he still had a little bandaid on the nose- a bandaid almost the color of what polish was left on Digger’s nails. There were still little spots of that nail polish on Abner’s face and in his hair. He could swear he would still feel those hands on him. Abner wasn’t a hopeful man. But he still hoped he would see Digger again.