The naming bit is dedicated to TheTryHard8 on fanfiction . net. Perhaps this group's name isn't as cool/amusing as Seto and Brice's, but I hope it will do the job. If any of you have any suggestions for a better name, write it in the comments! Maybe the four will change their mind.
ALSO EARLIER I SAID THERE WOULDN'T BE MUCH SETOSOLACE OR BRICE OR SETO IN THIS BOOK BUT GUESS WHAT NERDS. I FRICKIN LIED. JUST YOU FRICKIN WAIT.
Scapegoat
Three: Quite Possibly Carol
"All right, I'll be honest," I admit. "That could have gone better."
"Brice," Payten sighs in exasperation. "What was that?"
Brice pouts and crosses his arms, and Payten sighs again.
"Come on, I need you to work with me, babe."
"... I'm sorry," Brice says quietly.
"Let me back in there! I'll punch the crumpets right out of their mouths!" Danielle shouts, jumping from foot to foot with her fists held up in front of her. "Come on, teleport us back!"
Payten snorts. "Calm down there, squirt. We got some solid information from those guys, but we can't go back."
"Too dangerous," I explain in my big sister voice, and Danielle squints at me, likely wondering whether or not it would be worth it for her to get down on her knees and beg.
"Hmph." Brice crosses his arms, rubbing them along the way, and Danielle shivers.
"If we're not fighting, we should find some blankets," Danielle sighs in defeat as she settles down on the ground.
"Pfft. 'Let's find some blankets,' she says as she sits down," I laugh at her. Danielle just pouts up at me, and I roll my eyes. "Where would we find blankets?" I ask.
"We're still pretty close to the Burg," Payten offers. "I couldn't teleport us very far."
"I-I've never been to the Burg," I say nervously. "Are we seriously gonna stroll in there just to buy blankets?"
"Oh, they don't sell blankets," Brice whispers. "They sell pain."
"Oh, please," Payten snorts, rolling their eyes.
"Really, though! I stayed there for a few days after the exile, and it was totally terrifying."
"Are the people really made of fear?" Danielle asks with wide eyes.
"Uh, no," Brice says, shrugging. "They're just people."
"Fantastic," Payten says, clapping their hands together. "I think 'fellow humans' is as much of an invite as we're gonna get. Jenny and I will go buy blankets while you watch over Danielle."
"Oi, I don't need any watching over!" Danielle protests.
"Sorry. Danielle, watch over Brice."
Brice squints at Danielle as though about to pull his typical "but I'm older than you" card. "You wanna fight me, punk?" he asks after a lot of consideration.
"Maybe I do, muppet!" Danielle replies, bearing her fists.
"And that's our cue to leave!" Payten laughs, grabbing my hand and pulling me away as Brice tackles Danielle to the ground. I can just barely hear his distant "Oh no, you're too strongggg!" as Payten and I speed away.
"Do you have any- oh," I realize just as we're approaching the gates to the Burg. Bad timing. "What do they even use for currency here?"
"Pain?" Payten guesses, mocking Brice's joke from earlier. "I don't know, we'll burn that bridge when we get to it."
"That's not how the saying goes!" I squeak.
"Bite me," they say, hooking their thumbs in the pockets of their jacket as they stroll right into the Burg. I run to catch up to them, not wanting to be left behind in such a scary place, and they chuckle. "Head up, babe."
I try not to slouch as I focus a little too much on putting one foot after another on the mossy cobblestone street. The buildings on either side of us are grungy and dark, and people with dirty faces peer out at us from broken windows. I didn't know the Burg was this... in poverty. All I get from the stories is that it's evil. Not... this.
Payten walks up to one of the damaged buildings and rings the door bell like it's nothing, and I try not to hold my breath. The door swings open creakily but immediately, as though the building's inhabitants were waiting for us to approach, and I shudder. "Yo," Payten says, waving with two fingers held up. "There a supermarket around here or something?"
The pale young lady who answered the door sneers at us, causing Payten's eyes to widen as they step back slightly, and I can't help but hide behind Payten as the lady moves closer. "You're new here, ain'tcha?" she asks with a raspy voice.
"Don't be scarin' the neighbors!" shouts an older man as he hobbles to the door. His white shirt, surprisingly still white, contrasts greatly against his dark skin, and while Payten converses with him, I'm just trying to figure out how he managed to keep his white shirt so dang clean.
"They ain't neighbors!" the young lady shrieks, and I wince and fight the urge to cover my ears.
"You lookin' for a home?" the man asks after jabbing the point of his cane into the lady's foot. She howls and stumbles back into the house, and the man smiles at us.
"Just blankets, actually," Payten asks, peering past the man at the cursing lady.
"Oh, don't you mind her, she's an old grump," the man huffs, and the lady screeches something along the lines of "You forgot my birthday!" The man taps his cane against the ground a few times as he thinks. "Blankets. Blankets! Carol, we got any blankets?"
"Oh, no, sir, we aren't meaning to take anything from you, we just want to know where we can buy," Payten clarifies, putting their hands up in a placating motion.
"Nonsense!" the man insists, shaking his head so fast that his cheeks wobble. "We could use some good karma in this ol' house, anyways."
"Well if you wouldn't forget my birthday, old man-!"
"She's crazy," the man whispers to me. "Carol, do we have any blankets!?"
"Carol died last year, you sack of dust!"
"Did she?" The man purses his lips. "What a shame, she was such a nice young gal. Weren't she a nice young gal, Carol?"
"For the love of Notch," the young lady sobs.
"Well, anyways," the man says, waving it off as the lady punches a worn-down couch behind him. "There's always enough to share."
"No there ain't!" the lady screams.
"What was that, Carol?" he asks, adjusting what looks like a hearing aid.
She screams again, this time into a dirty throw pillow.
"You ain't havin' none of our stuff," Not-Carol says in a low voice, jabbing a finger against Payten's chest as she pushes the old man aside. "Come on, gramps, it's time for bed."
"Is it?" He chuckles. "Time sure does fly when you're meetin' new people! What did you two want, again?"
The lady screams one more time and slams the door in Payten's face, and their green eyes sparkle with something like amusement. "Well, that was a bust."
"What now?" I ask hopelessly, admittedly a little stunned by our previous encounter.
"We try and try again, babe."
"Now, maybe you oughta try the bar!" shouts a familiar voice, and we look up to see the old man leaning out of a window. "They sell all kinds-a things in that hellhole!"
"Thank you, sir!" Payten shouts up at him.
"Oh, that's no trouble, Carol! Have a good night!"
"And you as well!"
"Yes," I breathe, letting my eyes fall closed as I lean against Payten.
"What did I tell you?" they ask with a particularly crap-eating grin.
I huff and try not to smile as the two of us wander deeper into the Burg, searching for what we now know only as "the bar." Fortunately for us, the bar seems to be the only thing in this part of the Burg with any light pouring out of it, so it's pretty easy to locate. "Head high," Payten reminds me again as they push open the double doors of the bar.
If it's trashy, I can't tell, because the lights are as dim as they can be and the place is packed with so many people that I can't even see the floor. "Where do we start?" I whisper desperately, scared to find my voice lost in the sea of shouts and loud music.
"Sorry, what!?" Payten yells, cupping a hand around their ear, and I groan. "I'm kidding, babe, I read your lips," they laugh, grasping my hand tightly in theirs before striding across the crowded room. Payten elbows past people with ease while I'm stuck rambling out petty apologies every time someone almost shoves me to the ground. Once we make it to the bar, Payten pulls me onto one of the barstools and cups both hands around my ear before whispering right into it. "If you lose me, just meet me out front. I'll be there if you will."
"Okay," I breathe despite the fact that they can't hear me, and I don't manage to catch my breath until they're settled onto their own barstool moments later.
"What can I get for you lovely ladies," purrs the waiter as he slides a few empty glasses towards us.
"Not a lady," Payten says in an offhand way, wanting to get ahead to their actual question.
"Oh! All right, gotcha," the guy nods. "My b."
"No, it's fine," Payten says, shaking their head. "Look, do you know if anyone here would be selling blankets?"
"Blankets?" the waiter asks, raising his eyebrows. "Stuff like that's in short supply 'round this time of the year."
"Anyone at all?" Payten asks.
The waiter is quiet for a moment. "I'll tell you what," he finally begins, leaning in against the counter. "I really, truly don't think you'll be finding any blankets here. But I do know someone you and your friends can stay with, just for the night."
"Bless," I whisper.
"There's this nice old man just down the road from here, he lives with one of his granddaughters," the waiter says, and Payten is clearly trying to hold back a laugh as I bury my face in their shirt. "Real nice but he can be real weird, too. If you're desperate, I'm sure you can get over it."
"Thanks," Payten chuckles. "I guess we'll consider it."
"Word for the wise: Don't make Suzy mad," the waiter says seriously.
"So her name isn't Carol," I confirm, accepting my fate.
"Ah," the man says knowingly. "You've met her already. Have fun." He takes the empty glasses back and goes to serve another customer, and Payten glances over at me.
"Well," they say, "you heard him. We are a little bit desperate."
"Grass isn't that bad of a bed, I hear."
"Hey, I know a bit about not having a home," Payten tells me. "I guarantee you'll like Carol better than the ground, especially with how cold it's been getting lately."
I sigh and cross my arms. "Curse you and your infinite wisdom."
"Bow a little lower, I couldn't quite hear your praise," Payten snorts as they hop off of their stool and start toward the door. I jump up and grab their hand before they can get too far, and then we're off-
"Hey," says a guy about my age as he slams his hands against the wall on either side of me. "You come here often?"
"Ew," I accidentally say out loud. I'm pretty sure Danielle would be laughing if she were here.
"Aw, don't be like that," the guy laughs. He's wearing flannel, which is an instant turn-off because only Winchesters can wear flannel, so I can't exactly say I'm into him. Plus, there's Payten, so... The guy's tan skin crinkles slightly as he laughs, and I snort. He'd probably be attractive in anyone else's eyes.
Not mine.
"Sorry," I laugh awkwardly, ducking out of his cage of arms.
"Hey, it's fine, I gotcha," the man says, almost immediately turning to face Payten. That ended better than I thought it would. "How 'bout you, girl?" Okay, maybe not.
"I'm agender," Payten says, their eyes narrowed threateningly.
"That's hot." The guy smirks.
It is not so much a conscious decision as it is a furious reflex when I rear back my fist and then swing it forward to punch Mr. A-hole in the jaw. Oh, curse tall people, I was aiming for the nose.
Regardless of my aim, the force of my punch actually hurts my hand because I am not exactly used to assaulting people. I wince and shake it out slightly as I take a step back. "Uh. Sorry."
"Did you just punch me?" the guy shouts with barely restrained fury as he cups his jaw, and I take another cautious step back.
"Uh..."
"I'm gonna teach you why you don't hit men," the dude snarls, and I can almost hear Brice's sexism radar going off. He's probably feeling a sudden urge to rant about feminism right about now.
The guy rolls up his sleeves, and my eyes are squeezed shut and I'm thinking maybe this situation can't get any worse. I throw my hands up in front of my face like a fragile shield, but when I hear the crunch of a hit, I don't feel any pain attached. My eyes flutter open, slowly, cautiously, and the first thing I see is Payten towering over the guy as he cowers beneath them.
"Too bad fancy one-liners are Seto's thing," Payten mumbles as they turn to talk to me, shaking their fist out. "Don't worry, Jen. It's fine."
"Bless you," I laugh, and Payten smiles and grabs my hand, tugging me toward the exit before the guy can get his bearings.
"I'll send a message to Brice so he and Danielle can start walking towards the gates," Payten says as we walk down the cobble street. "Meanwhile, we can ask that old guy about staying the night."
"Cross your fingers," I breathe as Payten rings the doorbell once more.
"Hi again," Payten says, doing that two-finger wave just like last time.
"Carol!" the old man greets us.
"Sure." Payten shrugs. "Listen, I know this is a lot to ask, but could some friends and I stay the night here?"
"Oh, you are always welcome, sweetheart. How many friends you got?"
"Three and me."
☼☼☼
The four of us are settled on the second floor of the small building where Not-Carol and the old man live. Not-Carol is probably going to try to kill us in our sleep, but at least we have somewhere to sleep. Payten was right - by the time Brice and Danielle got here, it was absolutely freezing outside. I do not want Danielle getting hypothermia or something.
And the second floor isn't so bad, I guess. There isn't much furniture up here, or downstairs for that matter; the whole place is pretty bare. But they've got a stockpile of about four blankets, and two of them have been given to us for the night. Brice and Danielle are sharing one, because Danielle is a little bit scared of this place and needs him to calm her down, and Payten and I are sharing one, because I'm a little bit scared of this place and need someone to calm me down.
"Goodnight, Carol!" the man downstairs yells, and Not-Carol screams an angry 'goodnight.'
"Goodnight, guys," Danielle says quietly.
"Goodnight," we echo.
A few seconds pass.
"Are you guys still awake?" Danielle asks, sounding small.
"What's up?" Payten asks, and I turn to look at Brice and Danielle.
"I can't sleep knowing we're nothing but nameless muppets in this cruel, cruel world," Danielle breathes.
I squint.
"...What?" Payten asks after a while.
"We need a name!" Danielle whines. "We're already a whole day into our super quest. So now we need a super name!"
"Can't we just stay nameless muppets?" I ask tiredly. What can I say? I'm not exactly a night owl.
"That's halfway trademarked," Payten tells me, shrugging a little.
"What about 'The Fearless Four?'" Brice pipes up. Notch in the Aether, please just let me sleep.
"What are you, five?" Danielle huffs, and Brice looks highly offended. "We can do better than that!"
"How about the BJPD?" I ask, half-asleep. "Like, like police, but with our initials."
"BJPD isn't working for me," Brice nearly chokes out. "How about JBPD?"
Danielle snores. Maybe we'll tell her the decided name in the morning.
"Goodnight," Brice says softly, and Payten and I echo the word once more.
Time passes. I'm so tired.
I can't help but shiver.
"Are you still cold?" Payten whispers, scooting closer to me. I'm honestly too tired to even care. I swear I'll pass out any minute now.
"A little," I drawl. Without skipping a beat, Payten slides off their jacket and drapes it over my shoulders.
"Better?" they ask softly.
"I love you," I say, and then I fall asleep.
☼☼☼
I'm up, oh Jeb, I'm up, I'm up! It's dark, I can't see crap, but Danielle is screaming from somewhere in the house and I can't feel Payten next to me. "What's going on!?" I shout desperately, screaming when something slams me into the wall. "Danielle!" I scream as best as I can with the air knocked out of my lungs. "Brice! Payten!"
"Sorry to wake you," one of the Dark Mages says in monotone, and my eyes roll up into my head.