Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Volcadera Bluffs;

November 7th, 201M2024 BC.

[Chapter 1: “Ballad Of The Boot”]

4 whole years ever since Fang left me. The thought still weighs heavy on my chest- apart from the menthol cigarette I was huffing. Realizing quickly I was nursing a burning filter.. My trembling hands would make a move; slithering towards my pockets, going for my penultimate smoke- then my old engraved Zippo from the Navy. I crack the filter with my hand, and start working on lighting this stick of repressed memories and poison.. Flicking off the top of the old steel alloy lighter, I'd start striking the wheel a few times getting nothing but sparks for a while. Infuriating as it was, I finally got a solid flame, although laughably small. I scorched the tinder of the supple rolling paper after a few tries. I place its rolled essence of sin between my lips and take a short drag, flashing back to that time in the park behind the public restroom with Fang, smoking together.. 

I remember what I was doing now, I'm on the clock..

I checked the bag I've been carrying with the rifle I was supposed to deliver to this one guy, a real gaudy type who ordered a custom CeraKote.. 

My steps were weighed down by that very rifle that was concealed by a duffle bag strapped over my shoulder as I made my way to his address.

Every second counts, time is money and I don't have time for reminiscing right now..

There it is, a really nice house in the middle of a shanty town.. Skin Row never changes..

I'm surprised his windows aren't broken yet. This shit looks really damn expensive..

Right, fuck.. the gig.

I walked up to the door and knocked, waiting for my client to open up..

Almost half an hour passes as I hear what sounds like a muffled argument between a couple..

I had already gone for my last cigarette after the one I was smoking burnt out… 

The door would open finally, although not by much. A miserable looking pachy in some semi-formal attire peeked his head out. Realizing it's me, he quickly opened the door a little bit wider.

“Please tell me you've got the package.."

His voice was awful, absolutely depressing.. I really feel bad for him as he seems like a really stand-up guy..

“Yeah, got your Iron."

I passed him the bag with the rifle inside and he inspected the contents.

“This is nice, Thanks.."

He honestly sounded like he was about to turn it on himself after that drawn-out argument with what I can only assume to be his wife..

“So, My Pay?"

I know what I came for, damnit.. don't you dare fuck me over..

“R-right.. The money."

He begrudgingly handed me the money he paid for it, and closed the door. 

Stuffing the cash into my pockets, I started to make my way away from this ‘Kick Me’ sign of a home, only to suddenly get a face full of boot, nearly knocking my menthol out of my mouth.

Fucking hell, who the fuck’s trying to fight now?

 I could only see stars for a moment.. When I regained my composure, I looked up and saw just a common thug.. 

Fuck it, might as well get this over with fast..

I made a quick movement and threw the guy off guard, dropping him to the ground out cold with a solid right hook.

Give me a fuckin' break..

I used my phone's rear camera to inspect the damage, yup, broken nose.. Setting that's gonna hurt like a motherfucker..

About 3 large should hold my bills and leave enough for some nice food for once..

You know what, fuck it. What's something I could grab that's decent enough and should hold me for a while?

The thought of pizza crosses my mind on a dime..

Yeah, pizza is good.

As I make my way around somewhat faster than a snail's pace to the local pizzeria I planned to make a simple pickup from, the air is cold and thick, the smoke of my menthol being way more visible than normal, forming slithering tendrils of the cloudy gray poison. The local pizzeria does a pretty good job for the price they charge, But of course being this part of town, they don’t deliver. So- I find myself trudging through the garbage littered shithole that many impoverished call home.

All this time to think, and all this time to consider myself ‘happy’. I took another drag of the menthol just in the presence of that thought.. I fucking wish. I reminisce back to Rosa and Stella. Barely anyone's considered helping me other than them, I had to live in the back of their car for a while. That is, at least until I had enough scratch to finally get back into my apartment here in Skin Row. I took another small drag of the menthol, only to start choking down a cough. I should make this quick. It's either I eat or don't eat, simple as that.

 Looking at the state of things, shit's gotten worse for everyone.. There's a few homeless people lying along the streets, checked out cold, and the streets are absolutely putrid with the scent of burning Gas and Diesel fumes.

My mind drifts away to the far past. A common reminiscence and a sort of escape from this shithole of a place to live, back when me and Fang were still together. But, I'd rudely be snapped back to reality as I'm faced with the swinging glass doors of the pizzeria. More than a few of the patrons whipped their heads at the shitty digital bells of the door, but just as quickly as they went to stare at me, they went back to their business, pretending I never existed. The inside of the establishment was dark, smelled rich of salty food, and had booths lining either side of the walls, with circular tables in the center space accompanied by beat wooden chairs. The wisps of the fog caused by the reminiscence still present in my mind- I find myself auto-piloting into the mainspace, choosing an empty round table, pulling out the chair- and sitting down with a thump. I could have sworn someone had seen the thousand-yard stare I was giving my table.

  Time itself seemed to be moving so slowly here, the feeling was just unbearable. Out of the corner of my eye I saw some sort of stage, but I didn't think too much of it. Of course- until a group of rag-tag musicians had started their first track. Everything came flooding back the instant I heard a woman's voice that was all too familiar. It was her. My sight broke from the stare and whipped in the direction of the pained songbird. Her head was shaved, tattoos crawled along her arms.. Despite how she looked different, I knew it was Fang.. Goddamnit, of all fucking days.. I wasn't even prepared or anything.. I'd eventually just end up staying there throughout their entire performance, thinking that maybe there's more of an opportune time to fix your shit when they aren't busy melting their 6-string.

 Fang’s somber, harmonic voice echoed through my head and drilled its way into my subconscious. I had to do something, Fang's in pain, her faded amber eyes, now reminiscent of black holes, said more than enough. I'm not about to let my past get in the way of shit. The band had finished playing and left Fang behind. She sat near the stage on a bench while I moved up- waiting for her attention to return to the wood floor as I went, excusing myself monotonically to anyone who happened to look my way. Fang’s auburn eye catches something in the room- an errant noise, maybe. But it was enough for her to move her eyes from the ground. Fortunately- or otherwise, her eyes met me for just a split second. Suddenly locating the noise became unimportant to her- as an echo of the sins of her past appeared before her. Her eyes went from solemn and bored to fiery in an instant. The look she gave me sent a shiver down my form and sent my heart racing in my chest as she stared daggers into my very soul.. I didn’t know what to expect. But there’s no bowing out of this now. No more running… 

 “What in the fuck are-”

She cuts herself off as she jolts up and moves at me with a quick fury, pushing aside a chair with her leather boot. With how close I was able to get- it took the woman two strides to cross the gap. Instantly snatching up my shirt and pushing me into a round hardwood table.

 Well shit.

“What in the FUCK are you doing here, you fucking coward!? You've got a lot of nerve coming back here!”

 I mumble my response in terror, “I- ah”

“What was that? You looking to get your ass kicked!?”

I simply close my eyes and tense up- waiting for her fist to come down like a storm of arrows..

She screams some words, the world faded away- my eyes hidden underneath their eyelids. I was too paralyzed with fear to understand what she was screaming about- but you could have guessed.

“You didn’t even bother trying to do anything sooner!? All you wanted to do was run you fucking!-”

Shit, I'm gonna be here for a hot minute or two..

“You cut me off from EVERYONE, damnit! And you don't even bother to fucking apologize for tearing me to pieces and leaving me as an emotional mess!"

 I notice something break through the mess of fury in her voice. Something snapped underneath that hellfire demeanor. Its- vulnerability, pain, a great sadness underneath all the screaming. A voice I’ve known since I caught her preening on the rooftop of Volcano High. It hurts so much, I've just gotta stand my ground a little more. Just hang in there for me..

I feel a second hand grab the other side of my shirt- and the warmth of Fang’s form getting marginally closer to my laid out form.

 “I was almost kicked out of my own home thanks to my stupid brother’s boy-scouting.. Fucker had me pay for the bills to his medical college, and here I am with nearly nothing to my name. Just a shell of what was..”

Her voice is breaking at the seams.. Fuck, I honestly wanna cry.. Not for myself.. But for her.. Just hold it together for now..

I'd flash back to the rooftop once more, just remembering her grabbing at my jacket as she broke down on me..

‘WHAT IS IT WITH YOU THAT YOU CAN LACK AN IDENTITY BUT KNOW EXACTLY WHO YOU ARE!?’

Her words from the past echo through my head again as I come back to reality..

I feel like I should just say at least something.. This shit’s eating at my gut more than it should.. From a recess in my mind I thought was long-gone, Volition would speak up only to me in a tranquil, soothing tone..

‘You're both hurting, it's clear. Just talk to her, let her know that you're there for her every step of the way, despite everything.’

I eventually stoned the fuck up and just talked to her for once instead of pussing out..

 “You're right, I'll admit.. I did fuck up back then.. Did some things I'd never do in my right mind now. But things are different now… I wanted to genuinely apologize for everything.. Not joking or bullshitting you.”

 She'd pause for a moment before jabbing another accusatory finger at my chest, letting out an aggravated sigh. “This better not be some fucking sob story.." Her words were like a claymore plunged into my chest apart from the Ptero claw there already.

I'd simply retort in a calm manner; “It won't be."

 Alright, now or never.. "Back then, on the beach.. After I had sobered up and everything, I just started to feel like shit.. I knew what I did and I couldn't forgive myself.. Not until I made things right.” She changed her demeanor now, deflating as the wind blew out of her.

"I had all these thoughts running through my head after I got home, I started mulling through so many things. I couldn't even concentrate on anything even after having to join the Navy.” Her familiar faded amber eyes widened slightly.

“Once I got discharged I had just holed up in my apartment… I- couldn't bring myself to leave.”

She strangely started to smile, most definitely at my expense though.

She spoke up again, with an implacable curiosity.

"You're serious?"

“Yup. Other than 2 friends back from School being there to help, I didn't have anyone to lean on.”

Fang sat back in the chair across from me now, Her curiosity melting to interest.

“I realize now- I can't keep this up, not much longer now.. I really missed you.."

Fang would almost jolt in her seat as she heard those words, I can already start to see the tears welling in her eyes gradually..

Her mouth opens in astonishment. She steels herself for a moment to speak with venom on her tongue.

“W-wait, what!? You're telling me you didn't just forget about me and run off with some other harlequin bitch?" She looked as if her worldview just cracked the fuck open.. 

“I couldn't forget someone like you Fang.. I'll admit, I’ve been holding a torch for you- with a sliver of hope that I'd see you again.."

 I locked eyes with her.. Her makeup is already starting to get ruined, She smiled weakly, looking like she can't believe this is actually happening..

“Y-You.. Really did miss me.. T-there's no fucking way, Even after everything-”

I nod, and lean in towards her. 

"I held out because I care, Fang.. I-I may have been a dick to you back on the beach, but I was drunk for fucks sake…”

I punctuated my words by throwing up my hands.

“Now I'm sober as a punk. I'm being completely honest..”

 She gave me this look of disbelief, only for it to fade. Fang deciding to bury her head into her arms.

“Listen, Fang.. I'm here for you.. I regret leaving you in the dark. Least I can do is make up for lost time..”

She pulled her head up out of her arms finally and I can already see the damage.. The familiar puffy red eyes, ruined mascara and makeup. But, she's smiling again, and that alone makes things at least somewhat better.

With an exasperated laugh, she finally replies.

 “You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" She said that surprisingly calmly, although with a shaky voice, so she isn't mad at me judging by this whole talk we just had..

“To each their own..”

I wouldn't have realized it for a second, but a smile would have creeped across my face as well.. I guess I can't help it, seeing as I might have just salvaged this whole 4 year old fuck up..

“So” she says, with a tinge of venom.

“What's new in the life of Anon after his output left?"

Fang's sudden question had snapped me out of my thoughts, But then dragged me back in, thinking back to the 4 year absence.. “To be honest, things weren't great.. Haven't improved much either.. Just making ends meet with various shitty jobs even after the Navy.. I've had to do some really shady shit for a while.”

Fang would seem interested in that last bit, the look in her eyes just screaming ‘Do tell..’ she didn't even need to ask.

I sighed, and just spilled the details.

“Had to work as a gun runner for a few people via commissions, I wasn't involved in anything crazier, but underground arms deals are still iffy at best.. Y’know- Anything could go down..”

Fang would nod in agreement. Punctuating her next words with gestures. “True, that. Never know if someone you're selling to would just rip the heater out of your hands and drop you on the pavement as soon as they got the chance." We both shared a short laugh. Finding humor in death becoming a Hallmark of our shared misery.

She then pointed to my still broken nose.

“So, who kicked your ass?"

She sounded slightly worried, but masked it with a curious tone.

“Nobody important. Just Skin Row being Skin Row."

I'd clearly be trying to brush off the fact that I'll have to set it back soon..

"You need anything for it?"

She's surprisingly insistent on this..

“It's nothing, I'm fine. Just a sec."

I then brought my hands to my nose, making a quick motion to set it back with a subtle crack.

“Ngh, Motherfucker-" 

The pain was intense, but It's nothing compared to the stairs..

“Damn.. I'm guessing this has happened before?"

Fang asked me that with a dash of sympathy..

“Once or twice in the Navy.."

The pain died down after a moment, leaving me with my thoughts again..

 That chasm in my mind starts speaking to me again, with a curled whisper, Suggestion would break through..

‘You mentioned making up for lost time, right? Why not bring her home and discuss anything else there? It shouldn't hurt, you both need to spend more time together anyways.’

I don't even know if I should take that advice. It could just be an intrusive thought, but after a bit of thinking I could probably convince her..

Out of the blue, Fang realized something, something strangely specific in fact.. “Wait, Anon.. Are those fucking crushes?” She motioned her eyes to the halfway-shredded cigarette in my mouth that was still dimly lit.. 

Fuck, no wonder I was still tasting mint..

I quickly pulled it out of my mouth, coughing to the side like an idiot as short bursting plumes of wispy mint-flavored poison escape me.. Fang got a kick out of it- taking a second to snatch the sin stick that was begging for mercy- taking a drag- sucking the cherry to the filter in one long pull..

Electrochemistry would be fired up again, riding the high of that last menthol, even if it had almost flatlined me.. ‘Really took you that long to realize you were running on fumes? Damn, what a trooper!’

No shit, Captain Dumbfuck, the Military trains well in the art of nicotine addiction.. 

After a bit, I'd finally answer Fang's question that was interrupted by my dumbassery once more.. “Yeah, they're the same brand.. I think you can guess why I still smoked em’.”

 I smiled warmly, but subtly. Fang's face started blushing gradually at the thought of that. 

“Wh- you.. G-goddamnit Anon..” 

She covers her face with her wings after burying them in her hands again, flustered now.

I'd decide to have a hint of mercy and relax with the sentimental talk.

After a little while of catching up with everything, we went our separate ways again. Thankfully though, Fang at least promised to answer any of my messages or calls again after re-adding her contact to my phone. When I got back to my apartment out in Skin Row, I felt the best I had in years.. I had actually managed to finally fix this whole thing, ‘fixed’ being a relative term.. I patched up my nose, and I started scrolling through my contacts from my gun running days- along with a couple of old friends from online, a lot of good people with good connections. I've got a feeling that I've still got a lot of work to do.. they could definitely help me with a few favors… 

But, wouldn't Fang just feel like I'm just controlling the situation..? 

Fuck, This is gonna be harder in practice. 

I make the first call so I can find out where the hell everyone is now, starting with Trish to take this one step at a time..

The ringing of my phone felt like a death toll..

“Eyy, Anon! What's the gig now?"

The contact I dialed was an old friend in the business, he's not the brightest bulb in the bunch, but he's surprisingly really skilled in recon and intel. His voice is ever so slightly slurred, probably just finished knocking back his gin.

I kept my focus on the task at hand. If this doesn't work out, it's gonna fucking suck.. 

"Need a couple favors. Could you possibly find some old friends of mine?”

“Wh- o-oh, yeah. Got it. Who's our little VIP?"

He's such a fucking idiot, but he's too good to let go of.

"I'm gonna need some intel on Trish, that trike I mentioned to you a while back after one of the gigs we did together.

“Ah, right, purple bitch right?"

Goddamnit man, at least word it differently..

“Y-yeah.. Um.. Something like that.."

I already hear him hammering away at his scrappy cyberdeck he built a while back. He's been using it to triangulate a lot of locations and people, of course mostly just to fuck with them.

“Alright, got your intel man. I'll talk to you later, for now I'll send you what I've got.”

He hung up abruptly.

Fucking hell.. 

I then checked my messages where he attached a file of his findings, of course since he was drunk they aren't perfect by any means, but they're pretty solid from what I can see..

Looking at the file, apparently she's been doing underground bare-knuckle boxing.. For a pretty penny too. In some of the images found from social media, a lot of it looks like the interior of a warehouse, which narrows things down somewhat.. I'll have to tread lightly if I don't want a fresh serving of Five Finger Death Punch..

‘🎶DUST OFF AND THEN COME BACK FOR MORE🎶’

Now’s not the time to start an imaginary mosh pit, I've got a group to get back together..

I then make another call, this time for transport. The guy I know for this job isn't much of a people person, so I'll have to keep it snappy..

My phone rang around 3 or 4 times before he picked up.

“What's the job?"

As usual, he's a lot more direct than my other contacts, but I know what to do here, seeing as I've done business with him before.

"I need your expertise again.. I gotta head to a warehouse somewhere on the outskirts of Skin Row.”

he would be silent for a moment before speaking up again.

“What time are we looking at here?"

An understandable concern. Seeing as Skin Row is a hellscape at times.

“Around Early Evening. Least traffic there and practically no snags. I've gotta talk to this one person there.”

“Who's the plus one?"

His voice would sound subtly upset.. Let's defuse things quickly..

“Someone I knew a while back. Other details aren't necessary."

I nodded to myself unconsciously.

"Understood. I'll meet you outside your pad when the time comes." 

Through the phone I could just barely make out some sort of synthy music on his car's speakers before he hung up abruptly.

[The Next Day…]

Chapter Text

As the car passed several buildings and cars, that same music was on his aux speakers. My driver was always the enigmatic type, nobody really knew what went on in his head. It really was hard to explain, but his ability to shred streets was like no other. But, my days of running on the edge are over..

It's nothing but smooth passage now.

After a while, we finally arrived at my stop. I'd get out of his car and make my way inside, aimlessly looking around for somewhere to sit before finding refuge on a gym bench. And then, the sounds of what could only be described as the war drums of the streets hit me like a tidal wave..

The sound of chains rattling and rapid, powerful blows against a punching bag echoed throughout the old repurposed warehouse, only a few people were there at the time. Though- through the cacophony there was one familiar face, no doubt about it, now- more athletic looking, her hair’s grown longer- with more volume.. And Sweet Black-Fucking-Sabbath she's got a killer form, she's like a fucking blender turning this bag into paste.. I know damn well I need to get everyone together again- hopefully without trouble. I looked through the typical technicolor menagerie here that spans the population of Volcadera Bluffs- accidentally making eye contact with Trish.. Surprisingly she wasn't immediately looking to gore me over past events, in fact she seemed rather happy to see me.

My Inland Empire would kick into full effect; A gut feeling..

‘She might be holding onto the past like you are still.. Perhaps you should take a moment to talk with her.’

I got a sudden shiver down my spine as I thought of another possibility- Something darker.. The shivers wouldn't stop for a moment;

‘She could be putting on an act.. Then once you're close enough you'll be on the ground out cold.. with enough bruises and fractures to put the stairs and bollard to shame..’

Not now, I gotta think rationally instead of being a paranoid little bitch..

Trish shouts from across the warehouse.
“Holy Fuck!”
She walked over to me after finishing her set.. She's not even sweating.. sitting down on the bench next to me before continuing.

“If it isn't Anon in the flesh.. It has been a while.”
She emphasizes every one of her words through a voice of slight excitement.

I'd keep a level head as I respond.
“Yup, it's me.. Honestly not bad to see you here."
She immediately starts asking questions, mainly just small talk and minor personal shit.
One question though, caught me off guard completely.

Trish holds up a finger, as if she just remembered something.

“Would you… Possibly know if Fang’s okay? Or at least where the fuck they are, for that matter?”

4 years and Trish is still holding onto that shit.. for fuck’s sake, she's not even here with us right now, what's the point of dodging a rant?

“She's.. Actually doing alright. I managed to find her and talk with her yesterday. I'll admit she isn't doing too hot, but I'm looking to help her."

She'd look almost dumbfounded, probably not expecting me to actually have done so.
"Wait, what!? You've gotta be shitting me..”

Second verse, same as the first.

“Nope, I've got her contact info and everything. I found her out of total coincidence when I was going to this Pizzeria nearby Skin Row, she was playing some songs with some random street musicians before they ghosted."

Trish would picture that and glower slightly..
"Fucking worthless, the lot of ‘em.. Can't even perform without issues..”

That look on her face says it all.. Contempt.. Fury.. Fucking hell, she's a mess.. Knowing Trish- the next person to step into the ring with her’s gonna fucking die.
Though- miraculously, she deflates.. She's looking up and down at me now, not obviously checking me out, but analyzing me..
She'd then divert her eyes as I caught on.
“So, what else is new? I know you and Fang are back together? Maybe? there's gotta be some more details to everything…”
Hearing that- I could tell she thought my words were superficial.. Wrong place, wrong time, I'd say.. If I was omitting shit it would probably be a bit more telltale than this..
“To be honest that's pretty much it.. I've been at least feeling a bit better now that I know Fang’s cool with me now..”

Trish would relax with the barrage of inquiries for once.
I decided to change the subject. I was here for a reason.
“So, I was thinking.." I've gotta be more direct, no way otherwise of getting her on board..

Trish would look my way again, locking eyes with me.
“Would you..” Ah, fuck this is gonna sound stupid.. “Wanna possibly have a reunion sometime? I really think Fang would love it, being able to talk to old friends, leaving the past in the dust for once.." Here's to hoping she doesn't start to think about the projector incident from back then..

And.. Nevermind.. Waterworks already.

Ah, here we fucking go-

“A-about that- I mean.. I’ve- wanted to apologize to you and Fang, just never got the chance.. Honestly- I Feel shitty just thinking about it.. I was no better than Naomi..”

Yeah, now that I think about it.. A ‘Friends that when they're crying just fucks with my head’ tier list is in order..

The cavernous depths of my subconscious would speak to me once more, another tranquil voice, this time with a more emotional tone would break through. Empathy..

‘It would be best if you console her. She's had a lot of time to think of the past just as you have. Everyone deserves a second chance, no matter what their actions in the past were.’

I'd set my hand on her shoulder gently, to her surprise, giving her a reassuring smile. “The past is the past. We were teens. If I've learned anything from yesterday- it’s- plain unhealthy to keep thinking like that..”
I nod at my words in agreement with myself.
“You can fix whatever you’ve fucked up. You’d be surprised what a few words can do.”

Trish- suddenly sprung from her seat- wrapping her deadlift hardened body around my own- squeezing my torso into a diamond, I thought I was gonna end up crippled by the end of it all. Her voice would be shaky as hell through her tears, but grateful in tone, glad I've let go of the more stupid shit we've done..

She held the hug until I was seeing stars, leaving a wet spot on my jacket from the waterworks. She breaks the hug and looked me dead on through puffy- hurt eyes.

“Anon.. I thought you hadn't changed.. I guess I was wrong.”
It's not about proving anyone wrong here, but thanks anyways..

“So… About the reunion..?” I'd be walking on eggshells just repeating myself on the invitation.. But fuck it. No Risk, No Reward.
Trish then let go of me, giving me time to suck wind for a second.
“Count me in. You said it yourself that Fang isn't in the best shape, I'll have to see for myself." Trish’s expression would have lightened up, dried tears going down her cheeks, smiling warmly.
I added her to my contacts list after a little more banter and we'd go our separate ways, leaving behind the old warehouse gym. As I walked down the streets of this part of town, I looked around to see not many people around surprisingly. It's eerily quiet for the outskirts of Skin Row too.. Must be one of those days again. I finally made my way home and flopped down onto my bed, thinking about how the hell I'm gonna find Reed now..

Maybe I'll start selling drugs. One way or another I'd find him. Or hell, maybe he'll find me.