Work Text:
Joel lets out a rumbling wheeze as he slowly wakes up in Apartment 33. It’s been nearly six years since The Visitor left, and things have improved significantly since then. Doctors have become accustomed to working with everyone’s new, cursed biology, and with Mr. Sam and others chipping in to help him get surgery on his malformed larynx, it’s not as difficult to breathe now.
Sure, he still wheezes and gasps like usual, but he doesn’t feel like he’s going to die anymore when he runs for more than two minutes; he could even play soccer now if he wanted, just like he used to!
With the nearby school having been repaired, he’s been enjoying learning new things as he once did. However, even though the rest of his classmates are cursed like he is, they’re still scared of him despite his attempts to be friendly.
They’ve spread rumors about "Joel, the monster eater," recalling how, when he was younger, he would eat cars, people and gods in one bite or tear off large pieces of them as if they were nothing—and any one of them could be next. 'Better not be made of paint or Joel will gobble you up!'
That wasn’t fair! He did what he had to do when he was a kid to survive, and there’s no way he would eat someone friendly or who wanted to be his friend now that everything has calmed down. Even if the teeth in his head, growing in his brain, caused him memory problems at times, he still had good control over himself and didn’t go into fight-or-flight mode, even when he couldn’t remember who people were or simple things like what he had just been doing, and felt scared as a result.
Joel sighed and rubbed the inside of his mouth, near his remaining eye. The doctors said it wouldn’t be possible to restore his sight and that he would have to live with partial vision, obscured by his teeth for the rest of his life, but that was fine. Part of his world was dark now, but he had help with that. Someone who filled the gap of his sight while he covered theirs.
He looked over at the other side of his bed at his roommate, Ciarán, his best friend of eight years who had been with him through everything: his parents’ deaths, Ben’s sudden disappearance, and the countless nights when Ciarán talked and sang to him when he couldn’t sleep.
Ciarán never complained when he woke up screaming from night terrors, whether he dreamed about his mom or dad eating him, or Ben being unresponsive, frozen in place. He wasn’t annoyed when he would cry and cry, insisting that he had to brush his teeth or else he’d die, and needing Ciarán to stay with him while he did it.
Without a word, he would get up and turn on his flashlight and talk to him all night until he felt comfortable enough to go back to sleep, or he would escort him to the bathroom and wait patiently, no matter how tired he was, until he was satisfied with his tooth brushing to go back to bed.
He had even thrown himself in front of Joel to protect him with no regards to his own safety whenever he was in danger, taking blow after blow but never giving in. A gesture Joel hadn’t realized he wanted until it happened during their fights for survival over those hellish days all those years ago.
Nobody had ever protected him in that way before, and it made his heart feel warm and like it’d burst whenever he replayed those memories in his mind, knowing that there was someone always willing to jump in and rescue him without hesitation made him want to cry at times from happiness.
Joel wasn’t sure if he would be in the mental state he was in today if he hadn’t received that support over those fifteen days. He didn’t think most people would have done what Ciarán did, even sacrificing the flashlight and onesie he had received from his older brother that kept himself sane, so Joel could keep Fuzzy when he was nearly destroyed.
At the time, Fuzzy was one of the only things preventing him from spiraling with trauma, as it was the only thing he had left to remember when things were normal with his family. Fuzzy reminded him of their trips to the park, days where they'd cheer him on at his soccer games or his family all bundled together under blankets to watch movies together.
Joel still remembered what Ciarán had said when he returned a repaired Fuzzy to him, something that stuck with him to this day. "My flashlight and onesie were really, really important to me, like how Fuzzy is to you because my big brother gave them to me before he disappeared, but you're -ghhhk- even more important to me. You're my Anam Cara, Joel, and I don't -ghhhk- feel so scared when you're with me. You make me feel -ghhhk- like I'm safe back home, so... I -ghhhk- don't need them anymore if you're with me."
Sophie had teased them often about how the two still slept in the same bed together and how Ciarán was like his girlfriend because of their closeness, his small size, his long curly hair, or how sometimes he held Ciarán like a living plushie to squeeze and hold close, similar to how he stimmed with Fuzzy to calm down when everything started.
Joel didn’t really care what she thought anymore, about him or Ciarán, especially after what she had said all those years ago, bringing up that his parents were dead and were never coming back no matter how much he wanted them to, just like her mom, which had made their relationship rocky as a result.
He wasn’t dumb. He knew they were gone, but he was still grieving and trying to process it along with everyone else going on at the time, and that was the worst thing she could have said to him at the time. He just wanted to pretend things were normal, even if he knew they weren’t.
Besides, she wasn’t there during those first few nights where they both cried their hearts out for their respective families and had nobody to turn to except each other. When they first started living with Sam, he wasn’t exactly caretaker material. Sure, he fed and looked after them, even played games with them, but it took him a while to see them as just kids who looked different and not as dangerous animals who’d attack him if he let his guard down.
So he and Ciarán only had each other at the time, and as the years passed, they grew even closer. Wherever he went, Ciarán followed closely behind, and he did the same for Ciarán.
That’s how it was, and how it would always be.
What if one of them disappeared forever without the other knowing, like Ben did?
Or what if his teeth started growing again, and Ciarán wasn’t there to help calm him down so they would stop? What if either of them turned out like his parents, who became scary and dangerous and wanted to bite everything, not even recognizing who they were?
No, no, they needed to stay close in case something bad happened to each other; they needed to know where the other was so they could fully relax and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that, despite what Sophie thought. It was a comfort and reassurance for them both and he wouldn’t feel bad about it.
‘Our families are both gone and they won’t ever come back no matter how much we want them to, but at least I still have you after losing everything.’ He thought to himself.
Joel reached over and lightly shook his friend's shoulder which got a light slap against his arm in opposition. “It’s -hhh- time to get ready for schhhool, Ciarán.” Ciarán let out a gurgle of exasperation, merely raising his hand in the air and giving a thumbs up in response. After all these years, he still wasn’t a morning person, even if he was more excited to learn than Joel, since Ciarán hadn’t received a proper education growing up.
Joel waited for a moment for Ciarán to scoot out of bed and two of them made their way to the bathroom to get ready for school.
They each grabbed their respective Jumplad and Cosmonaut-designed toothbrushes that matched their pajamas and got to work brushing their teeth together, a routine that hadn’t been broken in over six years. Brushing together made the monotony more tolerable and they could talk with each other during it if they wanted or just enjoy each other’s company.
As Joel began brushing his teeth, he couldn’t help but notice all the physical changes to his body in the mirror. His proportions were even more awkward than they already were with his mutation.
His throat spread down to just above his navel, covered in various types of teeth and he had discolored skin from where he had used his gum tissue to repair injuries he had gotten while fighting dangerous cursed when he was eight. Worst of all, his giant cavernous maw was staring straight at him, rows upon rows of teeth that shifted with each breath and moved about if he made any expression that wasn’t neutral. They pointed outward if he was angry, drooped if he was sad, or scrunched up if he was confused or unsure; the list went on.
He’d probably be scared and would avoid himself, running away like the other kids at school if he wasn’t cursed, or looked like something else. The only visibly approachable feature about him was his hair, which was still curly and soft.
Joel let out a small squeal of surprise as he felt a light pinch against his side between two cold fingers. He blinked his eye as he looked over at Ciarán, who was watching him with a worried expression. “Do you need to talk? You’re not brushhhhing, and I know that look. You’re -ghhhk- gettin’ upset again with all your thoughts.” Ciarán’s voice was still as soft and gentle as ever, full of concern but not pushing if he didn’t want to talk at the moment.
Joel’s teeth clicked and shifted around as he nodded slowly. “Y-yeah… I’m just…” He trails off for a moment before gesturing at his everything. “Everyone at school is right to be -hhh- afraid of me. I’m scary and ugly looking like a -hhh- horror movie monster. Even after The Visitor left, I’m -hhh- still... like this.”
Ciarán was silent as his teeth clicked and shifted in a wave-like pattern in his mouth, lost in thought about how to respond as he listened. He also still had some issues with how he looked—his spiraling flesh, his face filled with rows and rows of teeth, his small size, and his body covered in numerous starlike freckles that opened up to release air—and it seemed Joel felt the same way, more concerned about how people viewed him than he let on.
Joel let out a defeated whine before continuing. “I was hhhhhoping it would go away or not be as bad -hhh- as it is. My throat turns into a weird fleshy tube when I use Tooth Cannon, and my jaws can cover my body and make me -hhh- look even more like a monster. I can’t even -hhh- eat lunch without getting a look from the other kids. I can’t help that my face, and all the teeth -hhh- close up together like a bear trap when I chew!”
Ciarán had noticed how the other kids at school acted around Joel, but this was the first time Joel mentioned that he was bothered by it. It seemed Joel still had trouble opening up about things he thought were trivial, not wanting to burden him, even though he would never be bothered by Joel venting. “Ghhh… you’re not ugly lookin’, Joel, or scary. Your -ghhhk- face is like a big heart, and people just need to -ghhhk- get used to you and see how friendly you are.”
Ciarán points a thumb at himself as he continues, “When I met up with you all those years ago, I knew it was still you -ghhhk- and that you were just scared and didn’t mean to bite me. Your -ghhhk- heart mouth was proof to me that it was still you, it showed who you were. Still friendly and full of love like you -ghhk- always were. You’re just a little different lookin’ now and that’s -ghhhk- fine!”
That was a memory Joel remembered all too well and couldn’t forget even if he tried.
Sure enough, when they met up on the second day of the apocalypse, he had fully mutated while brushing his teeth and had bitten Ciarán, who was attempting to calm him down by singing during his meltdown. Even now he wondered if he would have eaten Ciarán if Sam hadn’t pulled him out of the bathroom.
He thought that would have been the end of their friendship and that they would have left him all alone with his now scary parents, his large baby sister, and his unresponsive little brother. But, much to his surprise, Ciarán and Sam returned after a few moments with Fuzzy in tow. Ciarán even hugged him when he reached out for one without hesitation, knowing that he'd bite him, while Sam stepped back in fear.
Joel had bit Ciarán hard when they embraced, causing him to bleed heavily afterward. Even so, Ciarán had refused to let go and pulled him closer. Even as his teeth punctured deeper and drew more blood, Ciarán gently rubbed his back and shushed him, reassuring him that it was fine. Ciarán stayed there until he calmed down enough to break off the hug so he could give Sam the doorknob.
Ciarán gave him a pat on the arm with a familiar lopsided smile on his face, pulling Joel out of that memory. “You just -ghhhk- gotta take it day by day, and I’ll be there -ghhhk- for you like always if it's hard and you can’t handle it by yourself." His big brown eye looked at him with so much warmth and love that Joel still craved and appreciated it to this day.
Joel sat his toothbrush aside and extended his arms to Ciarán, who did the same. An unspoken gesture between them that they both know well.
He gave Ciarán a tight, emotionally regulating hug while Ciarán gently bumped their noses together. A sign of affection and, for both of them, a sign of immense trust.
Bumping their noses together, the last bits of their faces that were still relatively normal meant they had to look at each other head-on, seeing all their mutations full on display and trusting that neither would look away in fear or disgust, and being so close to each other's mouths demonstrated how much they trusted one another not to bite, whether on purpose or by accident.
“You’re -hhh- right… they just need -hhh- time to get to know me and that I’m not a monster that eats everything. I can’t hhhhelp how I look and even if it takes a while to like me… I -hhh- I’ll always have you here, no matter what.”
“Of course you -ghhhk- do! We made that promise to each other years- ghhhk- ago, and I’ll never break it, even if I’m tortured to the point I’d wanna die. You’re my Anam Cara and you -ghhhk- always will be.” Ciarán responded, his mouth crinkling at the edges into an even bigger smile.
Joel let out a wheezing noise of concern at his choice of words, maw drooping into a frown at the thought of Ciarán being taken away and hurt. “Hhh… I hhhhope nobody ever does that. Things hhhhave been pretty safe for a while…”
Both of them jumped at the sound of knocking on the bathroom door, followed by the familiar voice of Sam. “C’mon, you two. I know it takes a while to brush your teeth, but you don’t want to be late for school… again.”
“Hhh… he’s right. We still gotta do other stuff to get ready.” Joel reluctantly lets go of Ciarán and they both resume brushing their teeth.
However, after a moment, Joel felt Ciarán gently elbow him in the side to get his attention. “Hey, Joel?” he asks.
Joel casts him a sidelong glance and arches an eyebrow. “Mhmmm?”
“If the other kids at school give you any trouble, just lemme know and I’ll blast ’em apart. I won’t let ‘em bully you.” Ciarán said with a bit of dramaticism as he turned his head to show off his eye, now a familiar vibrant purple with speckles of gold floating in it.
They leave that comment hanging in the air for a moment before the bathroom fills with their wheezing giggles at the sudden jump to extremes. “Hhh… okay. I’ll let you know if you need to -hhh- blast ‘em away!” Joel responds, half joking.
He knew Ciarán would help if he asked; he was always very serious about ensuring that he was safe and happy. He genuinely appreciated how Ciarán stood up for him and how protective he was, especially since he was still a bit of a pushover—he didn’t mind the endless doting he got, even craving it.
Joel had gotten used to sharing attention and love since he had siblings, and he didn't pout or get upset if he didn’t receive as much as they did, knowing they were younger and needed more care. Receiving undivided attention and love all day from someone he also loved, without having to share, made him feel warm and he didn’t want it to stop.
While Ciarán hummed a familiar tune nearby, Joel returned his attention to the mirror, taking in his reflection. Even though he sometimes felt awkward and self-conscious about his appearance and had bad days like today, he would always have his Anam Cara, who would stick by his side, patiently pull him out of the mental muck no matter how deep he sank, and provide him with unconditional love, acceptance, and protection.
And maybe that’s all he needed.