Work Text:
Scrags sat in his little makeshift office, typing up the reports that he still needed to send to his superiors. He’d decided to stay with the FBI but as a liaison between the bureau and the Solve It Squad. Well, his title said liaison, or team manager depending on what document you looked at, but it was more desperate babysitter than anything else.
Honestly, his boss had just been thrilled that Scrags wasn’t ‘moping around’ as much anymore. Apparently, as long as the Squad kept bringing in criminals and ‘dragging a smile kicking and screaming across his frowny face’ they could work as externals.
It was a nice sentiment, in a way, but it only served to add to the stress he already dealt with on a daily basis.
Laughter filtered in from the other room and Scrags’ chest tightened briefly as he tried to focus harder on the words that had started swimming in front of him.
Look, he was glad that the gang got back together. Really, he was! Solving mysteries with his best friends was everything kid Scrags had ever dreamed of, and he was a real-life FBI agent with a badge and everything! Everything should be great.
Except he was a real-life FBI agent.
With a badge and everything.
Which meant that he had to hold himself to certain standards. There were regulations and protocols in place, not only for Scrags, but for the whole Solve It Squad. Scrags typically had no problem adhering to this, losing himself in order and routine had been one of the easier parts of becoming an agent.
But now he had to make sure that the rest of his friends also adhered to all those rules, and that was an impossible task.
They hadn’t had to worry about rules, or even laws, back in middle school. Everything they did was swept under the rug after a job well done, and consequences weren’t a word that any of them were very familiar with. The Solve It Squad basically had free reign to do whatever they needed (or wanted) as long as they caught the bad guy at the end.
And they always caught the bad guy.
Scrags brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to will away the headache he could feel building there. Even with everyone in their thirties, he still couldn’t manage to snap them out of that ‘no consequences’ mindset. He was a federal agent for Christ’s sake! He could’ve arrested each of them a dozen times over for the bullshit that they pulled right in front of him.
There wasn’t anything else that he could try. Scrags had begged, pleaded, coerced, bribed, and even made an attempt at ordering Keith, Esther, and Gwen to listen to him and follow at least some bureau protocol, and nothing seemed to stick.
It’s not like he didn’t want to join in, to relive that time when the squad was at the top of the world, completely invincible.
He just couldn’t.
Scrags had to make sure that, on top of catching the bad guy, that none of his friends did anything noticeable enough to get them in trouble. He had to coordinate with his boss all of the cases they got, write up all the reports because nobody else wanted to stoop as low as doing paperwork, and try to hold himself together all the while.
A tear dropped onto his paperwork and Scrags realized with a jolt that he was crying. He frantically patted the paper dry with his sleeve as he scrubbed at his face, glancing at the crack in the door longingly.
He could picture them all tangled together, reigniting the tradition of a post-case movie night. From the number of times Scrags had heard Esther yell “Fucking gross!” he would guess that Gwen had chosen some romcom that she loved. Normally, he would be there to make fun of it with Esther, to be someone they could roll their eyes at.
But not tonight. It was easier than he’d expected to slip back into the role of outsider. Sure, everyone had admitted that they felt like they didn’t belong in one way or another, but Scrags had always known his place. He’d been part of the group because Cluebert was his dog, and now he was here because he made sure they actually got paid for their cases.
It was okay though, to be ‘no-fun Scrags’ or ‘goody two-shoes Scrags’ because that Scrags is who kept this whole thing up and running.
“Keith! That’s fucking disgusting!” That was Gwen’s voice, but she was laughing and the noise was echoed by two other distinct laughs. The sound wound around Scrags’ heart and squeezed until he was doubled over his desk, arms wrapped around himself in an effort to keep from falling apart.
A few deep breaths and he decided that he could just get the rest of this done tomorrow. A good night’s rest was all he needed to clear his head and start fresh tomorrow with the vain hope that maybe something would bother to go right for him.
After Scrags organized his papers to the best of his ability, he gave one last wipe to his eyes and slipped out the door, intent on just walking past everyone and getting to bed.
“Hey Scrags! There you are, man!” Well, so much for that plan.
He looked up to see Keith beaming at him, oblivious as usual with Gwen half asleep against his shoulder and Esther sprawled over their laps, staring at Scrags much too pointedly to be comfortable.
“Uh, hey,” His voice cracked and he paused to clear his throat, “Hey guys. I’m pretty beat so I think I’m just gonna head to sleep, alright? Okay.”
Scrags made it about two steps past the couch before someone caught his wrist in a vice-like grip. A sharp tug revealed it to be Esther, their fingers digging into his arm just a bit too tight. He shifted uncomfortably as they scrutinized him, knowing better than to try and pull away before they were done.
Finally, they spoke, “What? You’re just going to leave me alone with them?” And that little spark of hope that had been kindling within him was quickly snuffed out. Of course they didn’t want him there for his company, they just wanted a distraction from the clusterfuck that was Keith’s infinite determination to hit on a married woman.
“Sorry that I can’t be more helpful, Esther,” Scrags fought to keep his voice steady, or at least to pass it off as exhaustion, “I don’t want to intrude or anything. You guys have fun though!”
When he went to pull away though, Esther’s grip tightened and Keith and Gwen had both fully snapped to attention, watching him carefully.
Shit, he must’ve said something wrong.
Scrags scrambled to cover up whatever it was, “I’m just really tired, you know! There’s just so much paperwork to fill out and it’s been a really long day. Keeping you guys out of trouble while coordinating with the FBI is no easy task! Someone’s gotta be the bad guy and make sure we get paid and don’t get put in jail, am I right?”
It was supposed to be a joke. Albeit a weak joke delivered with an even weaker smile that fell so much flatter than even Scrags could’ve guessed. Everyone was frowning, even if Keith’s was more out of confusion than anything else.
He opened his mouth again, not totally sure what else was going to come out but desperately trying to salvage whatever it was that he’d done because of course he’d ruined the mood. Classic Scrags.
Esther cut him off before he could say anything, “Keith, take this,” they said, holding out Scrags’ arm.
“Uh, okay?” Keith took hold of it, not as tight as Esther had but tight enough that Scrags knew that he wouldn’t be able to pull away easily. “Now what?”
“Now fucking pull.” Scrags’ jaw dropped slightly.
“Wait, what—shit!” Keith barely even hesitated before doing as he was told, yanking Scrags down on top of the pile. He fell unceremoniously, not even getting the chance to recover before Esther was shoving him in between Keith and Gwen before flopping back on top of them, ensuring that they were taking up as much space as humanly possible.
Now, this was definitely not what Scrags had been expecting, and he had a feeling that it was heading nowhere good, but he had to admit that it was nice. He’d never been the most affectionate of the bunch, not because he didn’t want to be, but because he was always too nervous to be the first to reach out. The chance that they’d awkwardly chuckle and guide him away loomed over him so he just, never tried.
But sitting here, soaking in the warmth and the pressure of his friends, he couldn’t help but relax a bit, sinking into them as much as he could allow himself.
Scrags opened his mouth, then closed it again, working his jaw as he swallowed down an odd lump in his throat. “What’s this for? Not that I mind! It’s just, well, uh—”
“Alright guys,” Esther completely ignored everything he was saying in order to speak to the other two, “Scrags is having one of his bad days where his brain is being shitty and telling him fuckass lies. Does everyone remember the drill?”
He looked around, completely lost as Gwen nodded solemnly, “Hold on tight, and don’t let him run away while we make him talk about his feelings.” She said it like it was something they’d all said a thousand times, and suddenly certain moments from his childhood started making sense.
“And?” Esther prompts, looking at Keith.
“And, when we’re done, make sure he’s smiling!” Keith’s beaming, looking immensely proud of himself when Esther nods approvingly.
Scrags wriggles around in an attempt to free his arms, trying to ignore the gentle warmth spreading through him when arms tighten around him. “Okay. What the hell is going on?!”
“Is it not obvious?” Gwen asks, cocking her head at him, “You’re being a repressed sad sack, and we’re going to cheer you up!”
As he scrambles for something to say, Esther drawls from their place on his lap, “So, even though I know exactly what’s going on, I’m going to give you the opportunity to be a big boy and tell us yourself.”
“What?” Scrags chuckles nervously, “I’m fine! Everything’s fine! Totally fine!”
Esther cut him a flat look while Gwen snorted. Keith jostled him a bit, saying “Oh come on Scrags! Even I can tell that’s bullshit, and that’s really saying something. You know you can talk to us about anything, so what’s wrong?”
For a brief moment, Scrags considered it. Like, really considered it. Spilling his guts then and there and telling them how much of an outsider he still felt, even wrapped up in a weird embrace like he was now. Explaining that he doesn’t want to suck the fun out of things, that he wants more than anything to go back to solving cases the way they used to but there are standards he has to hold himself to now. And how every time they brush him off just makes everything worse because he’s doing it for them, so he just feels unwanted and useless.
But then he remembered the laughter he’d heard from the other room and how, even though they didn’t seem to like him as much as they liked each other, they still did things like this for him.
He really didn’t want to fuck up what little he had going for himself, so he just plastered on what was hopefully a more convincing smile and avoided looking anyone in the eye lest they somehow manage to read his thoughts.
“Nothing’s wrong you guys,” He reassured them, “I’m just tired, really.”
Silence rang throughout the group for a moment and Scrags readied himself to be pushed away when Esther let out a long-suffering sigh and said, “Looks like we’re moving to phase two. You fuckers ready?”
“Yessir!” Came Keith’s joking reply and Scrags felt his arms shift as hands wrapped around his wrists once more. They were firmly pulled a bit away from him as Scrags frantically tried to remember what the fuck was happening, dredging through similar situations from twenty years ago for anything that would—
Oh. Oh shit.
“There it is!” Esther said gleefully, “Now, do you still feel like ‘everything’s fine’?”
“Uh- I- I just-” Scrags started pulling on his arms defensively, that old instinct telling him to protect himself kicking in. He looked around frantically and was met with three gazes, each looking like the cat who got the canary, “Everything is fine! You guys don’t have to do tHIS—Hehehey!”
He broke into giggles as Esther nodded at Gwen who started to deliver quick little pinches to his ribs. His elbows attempted to jerk inwards but Keith’s grip was solid and Gwen was relentless, easily finding that spot near the back of his ribs from when they were kids and spidering her nails over it, making Scrags’ laughter pitch up in desperation.
Meanwhile, Esther just stared at him, unimpressed. After a few moments, a sly grin spread across their face and they reached up to flutter their fingers under his chin, lighting up when he let out a snort.
“Guys! Did you hear that?” Keith exclaimed, still holding on tight but grinning for all he was worth, “Scrags still snorts when you get his neck! Ah, classic.”
Gwen nodded in agreement, “It might actually be cuter than I remember! What do you think, Esther?”
“Hmmmmm,” Esther dragged it out, “Yeah. He’s pretty damn adorable, aren’t you, Scrags?”
Scrags was pretty sure that he was dying. He can feel his face burning and he’s certain that the others can see it if the way Gween coos and pokes at his cheek with her free hand is any indication.
He let out an embarrassed groan, frantically shaking his head through his giggles, “Nohohoho I’m nohohohot! Let me gohohoho!”
“Awwww, you don’t really mean that though, do you?” Esther asked, a shit-eating grin on their face, “But, if you tell us what’s wrong, we could probably give you a breather.”
“Buhuhut nothing’s—WAIT!” Scrags shrieked as Esther suddenly wormed a hand under themselves to rest threateningly on his knee, “Okay! Okahahay I’ll talk!”
Gwen let up and Keith loosened his grip, though not removing it completely, and they watched as Scrags got out the last of his residue giggles. He glared at Esther, not that they seemed fazed by it, “You are evil.”
They just shrugged, adjusting to get more comfortable. “And? Get talking, Scragtowski, or I’m about to get a whole lot eviler. Something about being the bad guy and still not feeling like part of the group and that nothing you do is taken seriously?”
“Yeah, I—” Scrags cut himself off, “Wait, I didn’t say those last two things. Where the hell did that come from?!”
Gwen laughs as Esther just looks at him, and Scrags sighs, “Right, fair enough.”
He falls silent for a bit, trying to find the words, and they wait patiently for him. When Scrags finally opens his mouth, the words catch in his throat and he looks helplessly at the people around him, silently begging them to just let him go and forget this ever happened.
No such luck though as Keith rubs his shoulder comfortingly, “Hey man, you can talk to us. God knows you make us deal with our shit when we need to, it’s only fair that we return the favour.”
Scrags really wishes that he had access to his arms so that he could drag a hand across his face, but instead he takes in a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and slowly lets it back out.
“I don’t know if I want to get too into it, but, you know, things have changed!” He stares at them imploringly, hoping that he’s making sense, “I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. That’s the highest level of law enforcement in America! I have rules to follow and people to answer to!”
If he weren’t currently surrounded, he’d be pacing right now, so he lets his leg bounce under Esther in an attempt to quell the nervous energy. They don’t say anything about it.
“And it doesn’t help that you guys are constantly breaking laws, you know? Right in front of me! You could be put in jail for years for some of the shit you pull! So not only am I trying to make sure that my boss is happy with our work, I’m also covering your asses which goes against basically everything I’m supposed to be doing! I took a fucking oath!”
There’s a point on the ceiling that Scrags has fixed his eyes onto so he doesn’t have to see the looks he’s probably getting. It’s a very interesting shade of off-white.
Now that he’s started, it’s hard to stop, “And because I’m doing all that, I don’t get to join in all the fun stuff you guys do! Do you think I want to be constantly telling you guys that you can’t be doing things? No! I don’t! And I can feel you guys wishing I wasn’t here every single time I do it and it fucking sucks okay?!”
“I just—” Scrags lets his head sag back against the couch, suddenly too exhausted to bother holding it up, “It’s tough, being the one who has to ruin everyone’s fun so I, and you guys by extension, don’t lose this job. I’m used to not being everyone’s favourite, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt sometimes. I want to be out here watching stupid movies and laughing with you guys instead of being in there,” He gestures at the closet-turned-office, “Trying to figure out how to write a report in a way that doesn’t make us liable for breaking and entering! Or the insane amount of drugs that Esther has in their system at all times!”
It feels good for a few seconds to get everything off his chest. He’s breathing heavily like he’d just been running, and then everything he just said hits him like a sack of bricks.
“Shit guys,” Scrags squeezes his eyes shut, “This is exactly what I didn’t want to do. Sorry for ruining your movie night.”
Someone smacks his chest. Probably Esther judging by the force used, “It was supposed to be our movie night, dumbass. You included. We—Hey! Look at me!” Fingers snap in front of his face and he reluctantly opens his eyes, looking down at his friend’s very serious face.
They grab his chin forcefully and look him right in the eye, “We’ve been shitty friends. You’ve been jumping through insane hoops for us ever since you got us hooked up with this job and all we’ve been doing is making it harder. We’ll work on that. And,” They cut him off when he tries to protest, “We were even shittier for blaming you for all of it. I’ll try and do my drugs in the bathroom more often if it gives you something less to worry about.”
“Yeah, actually,” Scrags says hesitantly, a fragile hope blooming, “That would make things a little easier.”
“I’m not saying that we’re going to listen to you all the time, because that would be boring as shit,” They warn him, “But it probably wouldn’t hurt to help you actually keep your job. You know, for the money. Gotta support my drug addiction somehow.”
Tension starts to slowly seep out of him as Keith adds, “Yeah dude. We don’t need you more stressed than you already are, you gotta relax!” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “We’ll include you more. And stop being assholes. Mostly. Sorry.” He tacks the last part on like the word fits uncomfortably in his mouth, but Scrags appreciates the sentiment.
“Oh Scrags, I’m so sorry!” Gwen’s normally dramatic, but there’s something about this that seems truly genuine. She wraps him up in a tight hug, squeezing to the point where he wheezes out a slightly pained breath, “You’ve been doing so much for us and we’ve been nothing but awful about it! We’re gonna make it up to you, I promise!”
It’s honestly overwhelming, the affection and the apologies and the appreciation he’s been wanting for so long. His eyes dart around to each of his friend’s faces, all looking at him with some mixture of guilt (Keith), determination (Gwen), and a vague ambivalence with an undertone of ferocity (Esther).
All he can really do is stammer out, “Oh! Uh, thanks! It’s- It’s not really a big deal, really. It would definitely, ah, make my job easier.”
Scrags doesn’t know how much of it he really believes, but the sentiment is definitely nice. Figuring that he’s done his part, he moves to get up, but everyone’s grip tightens on him again.
“Uh, guys? What are you doing?”
Esther scoffs, sitting up a bit, “Don’t you remember the rules? We can’t let you go unless you’re smiling.”
A nervous grin starts tugging at his lips, “Oh come on! You don’t have to do that. I’m already smiling, see?”
Keith shakes his head, “Nuh-uh, that’s not a real smile. And we just agreed to follow the rules for you!”
He jolts as he feels fingers start to crawl up his sides and to his ribs, “We’re making it up to you!” Gwen digs in a little harder, pulling a yelp out of him, “Now, hold still so that we can include you. You’re part of the Solve It Squad too, Scrags! It’s time you started acting like it!”
“Wait! Shihihihihihit Esther NO!” They finally made good on their previous threat and started squeezing at his knees, completely unmoved by his attempts at shaking them off as he frantically kicked his legs.
“Esther yes!” Their grin sharpened as Scrags shrieked, Gwen tracing nonsense shapes across his ribs in a way that made him want to crawl out of his skin. “Now, how about you repeat after me? My friends care about me and I’m a real part of the group.”
The tone in which they said it was mean and teasing, but when Scrags managed to look at them, they were dead serious. Even if he couldn’t believe it, they wanted him to say it. Esther had always believed in lying to yourself until you started to believe it.
“What?! No wahahahahay!” Scrags desperately tried to crumble or squeeze into an itty bitty ball when Esther switched to scratching behind his knees, “Gehehehet out of thehehehere! Ehehehehesther!”
Things only got worse when Keith got bored and decided to let go of one of his arms and start prodding at his stomach, easily batting away his flailing limb.
“FUCK Keheheheheith! Guys I cahahahan’t!” Tears were starting to well up from the force of his laughter and, honestly? Scrags hadn’t felt this light in fucking years. Maybe decades.
Gwen’s hand crept higher, still maddeningly light, matched by the increasing shrillness of Scrags’ laughter, “Come onnnnn! You know what you have to do!”
Scrags tore through his memory for what Esther had told him to say, the words slipping through his fingers every time he thought he got hold of them.
“I dohohohohon’t—” He was cut off by another laughing fit and Esther rolled their eyes at him.
“The passphrase is My friends care about me and I’m a real part of the group,” They said, “Also! If I ever feel like this again, I’m going to tell them and let them take care of me.”
Scrags whined in distress, “Whahahahat?! Cohohohohome on!” But then Esther went back to squeezing the muscle in his legs and Keith’s hand wandered up to his neck, and he cracked, “Fihihihihine!”
Like magic, the touches lightened, just enough to keep him giggling while letting him get some air in. He took a bit longer than he probably needed to recover, but was promptly spurred into action by a warning poke to his ribs.
“Okahay! My friends cahare about me. Ahahand- And I’m a reheheal part of the group!”
He got a brief round of applause before Esther said, “Annnnnnd?”
“Ahahahand-HEY!” He glared at an unapologetic Esther who’d given his side a quick pinch, “If I ever feel like this again I’ll tell you guys and let you take care of me!”
The sentence was pushed out in one quick breath, and Scrags sighed in relief when wiggling fingers turned into soothing pats. A grin was glued to his face, taking all the heat out of his words, “You guys are the fucking worst.”
They all laughed at him and settled in a little more.
“Yeah yeah, you wanna get to bed now, tough guy?” Esther raised an eyebrow at him, already knowing his answer.
“…..No,” He grumbled, letting himself sink into his friends’ warm embrace and turning his attention to whatever new movie Keith had just put on, “I can probably stick around for a bit.”
Scrags could feel the weight of the grins directed at him, flushing a bit as he tried to ignore them.
Keith ruffled his hair, “Good. We’re happy to have you here.”
And, when Gwen and Esther nodded in agreement against him, Scrags let the thought that they really did mean it take root. There was a vague “Yeah, we love you, dumbass,” muttered quietly that he’d never admit almost brought tears back to his eyes. He would protect this feeling, these people, with everything he had. A
It turns out that putting his trust in his friends—no, his family, might not be such a scary thing after all.