Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"It's mail day, guys!"

The moment the door to the apartment swung open, all the men sitting around the table turned around with a sigh of relief. No matter how many responsibilities they were swamped with, how much frustration their work caused them and how much they wanted to jump at each other's throats - mail day was the one day in month when they could take a breather. Morgue Mound Motel's cafeteria and bar were closed, the reception desk was empty, with a sign proclaiming 'Only call in case of emergency!' deterring people from getting involved with the mail day ritual. It was a big day for workers and tenants of the place alike. No matter how much mail arrived this time, things would change forever. 

"Took you long enough," Joel scoffed, resting his legs against the table and dropping his playing cards. He was losing either way, so at least the sudden arrival of his coworker gave him a good enough reason to drop the game. "What was it? Did the Council hold you back again?"

"They did, in fact," Pearl nodded, taking her heavy, leather bag off her shoulders and dropping it on the table. Mumbo reached out quickly to grab all of their cups before they fell off and shattered to the ground. For once, having an extra pair of hands caused him more good than harm. "I was talking to them about all the complaints that we receive. Especially about you."

"Me? Who would have the guts to complain about me?" Joel grunted gruffly in response, but then, a sly smirk appeared on his face. "That means I'm doing my work well, right? Has anyone ever complained about Bdubs? Can't have people complaining about your work if you don't do much, do ya?"

"Hey!" Bdubs retorted immediately, his antennae straightening and turning to Joel. "You have no right to complain about my job! You spend every other night at the bar!"

"Both of you, shut up," Pearl attempted to quell the discussion before it had a chance to break out into another fight. "If we get over all of this fast, we'll have some time to rest. And I think we all need it."

"Pearl is right, guys," Mumbo commented. Once Pearl handed him a bundle of stapled papers, he got up from his spot and sat on a chair between his two coworkers. He could feel how the two of them kept glancing at each other angrily. "Come on, let's not drag this on. How much mail did we get, Pearl?"

"A bit." The woman opened her bag and flipped it upside down. A sea of yellowish envelopes poured out like a waterfall, covering the whole table. Joel and Bdubs reached out to grab any of the envelopes that almost fell on the ground. Pearl pulled out a grey, cardboard folder, then tossed the bag aside. "Looks like the motel is getting a bit empty..."

"Maybe that's our sign, guys?" Bdubs raised his head, excitement shining brightly in his dark, brown eyes. "Maybe our work here is done? And we’ll be going back on the road soon?"

"Not a chance," Pearl sighed, taking a seat at the edge of the table. Joel grunted under his breath. He was trying to clear out a bit of space in front of himself, but as she sat down, the envelopes moved, once again swallowing the tabletop whole. "Remember what they said? No more riding until a real apocalypse. And that's still a bit away."

"Come oooon..." Joel growled, crossing his arms. "How long do they want to keep us here?"

"They probably know better than us when the next ride begins. Now, chop-chop. We gotta get this done today.”

Back in the day, mail day tended to take a lot more time - before they figured out how to make their job go faster. It pretty much reflected their whole attitude towards their new calling, as the first few decades spent in the motel were painful for the whole staff. The great harbingers of death and destruction, the famed and feared Horsemen of the Apocalypse, one day were called by the Council of all the deities of death. There, they were relegated to working at a new establishment for tarnished souls. At first, it seemed like a temporary solution, surprising none of them. Only a few centuries back, the four of them ventured out a bit too often, resulting in wars, famines and plagues spreading left and right. What seemed like a momentary change in their chores, turned into an neverending stream of work, tending to and taking care of souls that had just passed on and were awaiting their judgement and fate in the afterlife. The job got easier with time, as the four of them figured out how to make it more manageable. Which didn't mean the longing for the good old days, when they were free to ride wherever and whenever they wished, vanished.

For the last centuries, pretty much every mail day looked the same. After Pearl, the Death personified and the motel's manager and postlady, brought all of the mail for the month, it was up to the rest of her team to sort through it. They tried out many models, but this one worked best. The letters were sorted one by one - the task was carried out by the incarnation of Famine, taking on the name Bdubs and the role of the barman and cook. Reading the name on the envelope out loud made it easier for Mumbo - Pestilence personified, and the motel's receptionist - to go through the list of all the tenants and cross off whoever received their letter. At last, Joel - the incarnation of War, working as the janitor - sorted all of the letters by floors they had to be distributed on. Everything went smoothly, as the letters were easy to assign to any of the currently residing tenants - even if most of the time, they only carried their name. Yet another mysterious way in which Death, and its many incarnations, worked.

And why was the mail day so important?

Every resident, who arrived at the motel, barely remembered their previous life and how they died. They all knew one thing - to wait. Receiving a letter was seen as the biggest blessing that the gods they worshipped could bestow upon them. It was a mark that they could proceed into their afterlife, according to how they spent their temporal lives. Which is why it was so important that the ritual was carried out smoothly, and all the letters got delivered to the respective people. Without them, they were doomed to staying at the motel for decades, often much longer than how long they actually lived for.

"Oh, we can toss out this one," Joel announced as he received one of the first letters to sort through. All it took was a glance at the name written on the envelope for the memories to flood back. "I banished him last week."

The whole room, usually lively with chatter and rustle of paper, suddenly went quiet. All of the stares laid upon Joel, more so surprised than judgemental.

"What? When?" Mumbo's voice trembled nervously, as he flipped through his papers. 

"Last week, I told you!" War incarnate rolled his eyes. "During the karaoke night. He was getting a bit... Handsy with one of the girls. What, you wanted me to let him touch her?"

"No, of course not!" The receptionist immediately retorted "But... Are you sure it's the same guy? The one with the funny accent-"

"Yeah, I'm sure that was him. Had him on my radar for a while," Joel growled, bending the envelope in his hand. "Gave him a good beating, then sent him down the Shute. Here, you can take it." He leaned back on his chair and handed the envelope back to Bdubs. With a bit of hesitation, Famine grabbed the letter. One of his additional mouths, placed in the middle of his palm, immediately began gnawing on the paper. 

"Down the Shute it is..." Pearl chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Next time, can't you tell us right away? I already closed the statistics for last month… He should’ve been mentioned there. If the Council notices the numbers are off, that’s on you, mister."

"Hey. I'm just the muscle guy, not the counting guy." Joel shrugged.

Left completely to themselves with little to no outside control, the Horsemen had to take it upon themselves to govern the motel. If any of the tenants became a threat to the others, Joel doubled as the bodyguard and banished them - which was a fancy word for sending them down the garbage Shute. As far as the workers knew, it completely broke down anything that was thrown inside - from food and plastic to the very fabric of a soul. Spending too long next to the Shute awoke this strange feeling, as if one wanted to throw themselves down there. Apparently the living called it the call of the void and as far as they knew, there was something to it. 

"Well, that marks thirteen people banished last month," Pearl grumbled, noting something down inside of her folder. "The Council's not gonna be happy about that one, you know that?"

"Oh shut up..." War rolled his eyes and grabbed another envelope, then tossed it on the pile for people from the third floor. "I'm just doing my job."

"Weird that I didn't even notice the guy... Anyway!" Bdubs raised his voice a bit, to pull them away from the dreadful topic. He was now picking out the envelopes with one hand, as the other was too occupied with consuming the wasted letter. "Next one... Ren?"

"Oh, I remember that guy," Mumbo began flipping through the list. "Here! Fifth floor. Been a while since he arrived..."

"The Dog Guy?" Death asked, finally getting up from her spot. Sometimes, she found it easier to write while circling the room. 

"I think so... I wonder if there's a letter for that blond he's been hanging out with." Famine muttered, then handed the letter to Joel, who put it in its place. "Next one... Phil?"

"Oh, that's a first floorer!" Joel laughed heartily. "He's been here almost as long as we have!"

"Well, all good things come to an end..." Pestilence stuck out his tongue while crossing out the name from the first page of the list. That floor, as well as the highest, ninth floor, were the least inhabited. The first one was mostly reserved for the reception desk, the cafeteria, the bar and the apartment where the horsemen lived. Only several people, who have spent many, many years in the motel got moved down there. In some cases, they've been around so long, nobody even remembered how they ended up at the resort in the first place. "Alright, who's next?"

"Let's see... Lizzie."

Mumbo scrunched his nose, looking through his papers. Usually, hearing a tenant's name made him immediately recall some sort of details about them - their face, voice, floor they inhabited; something that made it easier to go through the long list. But not this time. Bdubs reached over Pestilence's head to hand the letter to Joel, but pulled it back the moment he realized something was wrong.

"What's up?"

"You sure that's the name?"

"I have it right in front of me, dude. It clearly says Lizzie."

"Can you spell it?"

"L-I-double Z-I-E... Look" Bdubs waved the envelope in front of Mumbo's face. He didn't seem mistaken - the letters, written in a deep, fuchsia ink spelled out the name clearly. The man grabbed the envelope in one hand, the list in the other, while using his extra hands to pull his fingers over all the names. As if he wanted to feel them, instead of reading through them. "Can I look?"

"Sure, here, but I can't see it..."

"What's wrong?" Pearl asked, closing her folder and approaching the table again.

"We found a letter that's for... No one on the list."

"What? That's impossible..." Pearl's brows furrowed, and she pulled the list out of Bdubs' hands despite his protests. "Lizzie, Lizzie, hmmm... Isn't that short for something? Like, Elisabeth, or such?"

"It is... But if that was the case, why doesn't it say Elisabeth?" Mumbo puffed out his cheeks, then slowly released the air. "This is new..."

"You haven't banished anyone named that, have you?" Bdubs leaned back on his chair and shot an accusatory, but not very serious glance at Joel.

"Hey!" War immediately shot up from his spot. "If I did, you guys would've known! I know you think I'm stupid, but I'm not that dumb!"

"Well, he's not wrong," Mumbo nodded, "If he did, we'd have her on the list, just crossed out. But she's just... Not here."

"That's worrying..." Death muttered, handing the letter and the envelope back to Mumbo.

"Why don't we just open it? Maybe we can figure it out by what's inside?" Joel asked, taking his seat once more. Again, everyone turned to him, this time their faces were more so disgusted and terrified by what he just said.

"What?! Are you crazy?!" Pearl immediately yelled at him.

"And stupid?" Bdubs added.

"Listen, we might not always like what we're doing here. But these," She picked up one of the envelopes and waved it in front of Joel's face, "These are sacred. The moment they arrive here, we have to treat them with utmost care, until they arrive to their receivers."

"Exactly!" Famine agreed loudly. Pearl's eyes turned to him, as his hand-mouth finished consuming the discarded letter. Only a few torn pieces, covered in drool, dropped down on the floor under his feet. "Didn't know they taste like chips..."

"And I thought Mumbo was the disgusting one," Joel winced.

"Hey, what was that supposed to mean?" The receptionist turned to him, his tone not hiding his offence.

"Nothing! But whenever people arrive at your desk, they can tell you're the Pestilence incarnate." The man snarked back, crossing his arms. 

"Yeah, and everyone can tell you're War, with loud and angry you get all the time," Bdubs retorted, aiding Mumbo. Once again, Joel shot up, this time his chair tipping and falling to the ground.

"Shut up! I only get pissed off because of how annoying all of you are!" He yelled back. The red marks on his hands began dripping, as if his skin suddenly got covered in a thick layer of blood. Pearl approached her coworker and slapped him in the back of his head.

"Stop with the blood. You'll get the envelopes dirty."

"I don't care! They don't get to call me-" Joel screamed back at her, but seeing how that didn't phase Death in the slightest, he groaned and began wiping his hands against his shirt. At this point, it was hard to find any clothes of his that didn't reek of blood. "Whatever. So, what do we do with that stupid letter?"

"I'll go over the residents we have written down as Elisabeth," Pearl suggested, taking the envelope from Mumbo. "And I'll ask them whether any of them use the name Lizzie. If we don't figure it out by the next mail day, I'll bring it back to the Council to ask them what to do with it."

"That sounds reasonable," Mumbo agreed, and Bdubs just nodded in agreement.

"Fine..." Joel grumbled.

The rest of the letter sorting went on without any other problems. Soon, the sea of envelopes covering the table was sorted into nine piles, varying in size. Pearl began putting the freshly tidied mail in her bag. Now, it was up to her to deliver every letter to the respective tenant. But before that, they had a few more matters to tend to.

"The amount of people banished this month: 12... I’ll account for the banished guy for next month's statistics. But this is the last time I’m saving your ass like that." She commented, shooting a cold stare in Joel's direction. War groaned and rolled his eyes. "Amount of complaints: 25... Resolved complaints: 20. Joel, you gotta fix the elevator again."

"Again?!" The man banged his fist against the table, leaving a bloody mark on the surface. "How the hell does it break every other week?"

"No idea," Pearl shrugged. "But that's your responsibility. Just like the garden, and the gym."

"I'm not dealing with the garden anymore. Told you guys that all flowers die whenever I touch them," He grumbled. As far as they knew, that was just a metaphor, but none of them would be surprised if it was actually the case. "And as for the gym... Maybe I'd have the time to repair it if the bathrooms and the elevator didn't break all the time."

"Didn't you have plenty of time to do that last week?" Mumbo asked cautiously, flinching the moment Joel looked back at him angrily.

"Maybe I did, so what? I don't have to work from sunrise to sunset. Besides, I'm not letting anyone in this motel look better than me."

"Then we're all doomed," Bdubs snarked back. Joel opened his mouth to scream at him again, but this time, he didn't have the energy to do so. Anytime someone pointed out that after centuries spent in the motel he no longer looked like a fearsome incarnation of War, it stung a bit more and more. He tried telling himself that it wasn't his fault, but he knew he wouldn't be exactly right.

"Oh shut up."

"Speaking of..." Pearl looked at them from over her papers once more, "Bdubs, I've had people complaining about the bar being... Not exactly clean."

"Well I'm sorry I can't exactly keep up with all the people who get blackout drunk and wreck the place!" Famine groaned "Joel is the bodyguard here, not me!"

"Hey! I have better things to do!"

"Like what? You're there almost every evening, either way!"

"Both of you, shut it," Death sighed. "Bdubs, can you just... Start limiting people who clearly have had enough? Especially those third floorers. They're the worst."

"Alright, fine, I'll try..." Bdubs sighed. "But no promises. Some of these guys are freaks," He shuddered.

"And, Mumbo..." Pearl closed her folder once more, her expression now a bit softer. "Have you found our book of receipts yet?"

"O-oh, about that..." Pestilence chuckled nervously. "I-uh... No. I haven't."

"Do you need help with clearing out your desk again?"

"No, no! I can- I can deal with it. I promise. I'll find it before the next mail day."

"Maybe we do get paid after all, but Mumbo just loses it all?" Joel hummed. For once, Bdubs actually chuckled in response to his snarky comment. War groaned the moment he saw Pearl's disapproving stare. "What?"

"Nothing..." Pearl sighed. She picked up her bag and threw it over her shoulder. "See? Was it that bad? I'll be back once I'm done delivering this. Don't kill each other while I'm gone," She asked before turning towards the door and leaving.

For a second, a complete silence fell upon the living room. Neither of the horsemen looked at each other. Despite the relief of their job being finished, and at a prospect of a free day, all of them felt this strange uneasiness. As if they did something wrong. Or rather, that they were constantly doing something wrong. Even centuries after Morgue Mound Motel opened, none of them got quite used to the job yet. Just because they managed to find a way to make their work easier, didn't mean they quite knew what they were doing. Chatting, playing cards and enjoying a nice cup of tea no longer seemed appealing. Mail day was finished, tomorrow they had to go back to work, and back to acting like all of their responsibilities were not a problem. Back to pretending that things weren't easier and more fun when it was just the four of them, spreading chaos and destruction whenever they went. 

"We're so bad at this, aren't we...?" Mumbo whispered. Bdubs scrunched his nose and turned to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… Be honest. We’re just four guys, running a motel all on our own. Maybe we’ve been doing this for centuries, but it doesn’t feel like we’re any better than where we started out.”

“It would be nice to have some guidance, hm? Or an extra pair of hands for help…”

“Well, maybe you guys are bad at this.” Joel shrugged, then got off his chair and headed towards his bedroom. “I’m doing just fine. And at least I don’t whine about my problems like you losers.” For a moment, he awaited a snarky comment in return, one that would spark another argument. When he didn’t receive one, he just groaned in frustration and left them, shutting the door behind himself.

"I'm so bad at this," Joel whispered to himself, as soon as he hit the bed for the evening.

Usually, whenever he had a few hours to himself, he tried doing something productive. Some would be surprised to hear that the incarnation of War had hobbies, but with time, even Joel found himself bored with whatever he was doing. He abandoned regularly working out ages ago, and the effects were showing. He tried a few books from the motel's small library, but he could never stay focused for more than a few pages at a time. His friends were quite artistically gifted, but he had no patience and just a few wrongly placed lines caused him to snap his pencil out of frustration. As much as he hated to admit it, he was finding himself in a dark, sticky slump that was deepening with each day. Betrayed by anything he found enjoyable, he spent the rest of his free time just staring at the ceiling, wishing for something to happen.

Sure, there were things he could try. He could approach his friends to do something fun together. Play games, watch movies, eat snacks, even just talk. He could go to any of the shared spaces in the motel, like the bar or the library, and find people to chat with. But that possibility seemed even scarier than just sitting in his room and sinking deeper and deeper into his own head. At least here, in his messy, dark, stuffy room, he had a semblance of control over his own thoughts. But out there? What if he accidentally said something wrong, and his carefully crafted persona of an intimidating, feared incarnation of War crumbled? He groaned and covered his face with a pillow. Maybe that was also a part of his entire thing as one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. It felt as if there was a constant war in his head, with no safe space to ever release the tension. 

Maybe that was just his fate. Maybe he earned that through his role. A role he took pride in, but never really asked for.

Maybe it really was easier to be the godly harbinger of death, than a humanish janitor.

Chapter Text

The heavy, wooden door to the motel's lobby opened with a loud creak. A short, petite woman poked her head inside, taking a quick glance around. She could tell she ended up in some sort of place she wasn't supposed to be in. The dusty, moldy air scratched her throat, the cold wind from outside pushed the door opened and forced her inside. She tightened her grip on a piece of paper in her hand - she didn't even remember acquiring it, it felt as if it had always been there. Her other hand went towards the handle of her small, leather travel bag. When did she even get it? She barely had any belongings with her back in the...

"Oh, hello!" Her head turned on instinct as soon as a soft voice greeted her. Only then, she noticed someone's head poking over the reception desk right in front of the door. "Welcome to Mourge Mound Motel! How can I help you?"

The man at the desk looked young, probably younger than her, but didn't appear exactly... Human. His pale skin had a bit of a grey tint to it, and in some places was covered with a dirty growth, reminiscent of fungi. His dark hair and moustache were covered in thin, silver spiderwebs. As she slowly approached the desk, she noticed how he rested his head on one pair of hands, while the other was sorting through a cardboard folder of documents. She flinched in fear at first, but something about the man's presence calmed her down quickly. He appeared quite peculiar, but he didn't seem to be a threat... At least not yet. His big, amber eyes seemed friendly enough.

"I, uh... I don't really know what I'm doing here, to be honest," The woman smiled nervously. She put her bag on the ground in front of the desk, while playing with a strand of her long hair. Once I get to my room, I need to wash my hair... She thought, but then furrowed her brows in surprise. Wait. My room? Why would I even have a room here? What is this place?

"Oh, don't worry about that! Everyone who arrives here asks this exact same question." The receptionist answered with a smile. "May I have your residency card?"

"My... What...?"

"It should be in your hand. Or somewhere within your baggage."

"My- Oh." The woman chuckled, a bit ashamed of her own confusion. She then leaned over the desk and handed him the document. The receptionist looked over the piece of paper, then opened a large book and started noting something down. "So, uh... What is this place?"

"You're in Morgue Mound Motel! The perfect place for people who pass between life and afterlife. That being said, uh..." The man smiled awkwardly, one of his hands reaching out and touching hers. "I'm... So sorry about your passing. I hope your journey here was quick and painless..."

"Yes... It was." She confirmed quietly, rubbing her throat gently. "So, uh... This is what happens when a person dies."

"Pretty much! You're free to stay here until you receive a letter, which will direct you to your fate in the afterlife," The receptionist explained with a patient smile. 

"And how long does that take...?"

"Who knows! Some people leave right away, some have been for... A while." He frowned for a second, but his smile reappeared right away. "Our last mail day was last week, so here's hoping for the next... But, uh, I need to fill out your information, first. Your name's Elisabeth, right?"

"Correct," The woman rested against the desk, quickly glancing around. 

The hall spread left and right from her, and reached so far she couldn't see either end. The old, dark wallpaper was coming off, the floor was almost completely grey from all the dust and dirt. Some of the lamps were blinking, as if the lightbulbs were almost out. She flinched once one of the nearby doors creaked open. A man entered the hall, carrying a broom in his hands. Just like the receptionist, his appearance wasn't exactly human. Within his dark brown hair with a green streak, a pair of dark horns poked out. His hands were discolored just under his elbows, making his skin there appear a lot more reddish. His dark eyes seemed cold and uninterested. The woman bit her lip when noticing what looked like blood splatters all over his polo shirt and baggy pants. When the man passed by her, she moved a bit closer to the reception desk.

"Here's your key," The moustached man reached over to her and handed her a copper key, with a big keychain with the room number. "Room 7134, on the seventh floor."

"Seventh floor... Thank you," She repeated. "Is there, uh, an elevator here somewhere?"

"There is, but the question is... Joel!" The receptionist got up and shouted in the direction of the horned man. "Is the elevator working already?"

"Should be! Although I have no idea what in the bloody hell all these people do to break it every week..." The man, apparently named Joel, groaned and turned around. "I swear, if I have to fix it again this week I'll just-"

All of a sudden, Joel went silent. He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts and frustrations that he didn't even notice the young woman standing at the reception. His grip on the broom tightened, and out of some sort of strange instinct of guilt, he hid it behind his back. For just a second, her bright, blue eyes stared right into his. Something within his chest stung a little harder than usual.

"I mean, uh... Yeah, it's working. Do you, um... Need any help?"

"What? No, no, I'm doing just fine," Mumbo smiled in response. Joel visibly gritted his teeth, as if to make it clear the question wasn't directed to him. He then turned to the woman and handed her a piece of paper. "Please sign it right here... If there's anything broken in your room, or you need something, let us know, okay?"

"Of course... Thank you," She curtsied to the man, then turned where he directed her. Joel watched after her for a second, approaching the reception slowly.

"Who's that...?" He asked quietly. Mumbo chuckled, looking up at him. 

"What do you mean? You act like it's the first time you saw a new resident."

"I didn't- Oh, shut up, Mumbo!" The janitor groaned and banged his fist against the desk. "I swear, you're even worse than Bdubs sometimes!"

"Sometimes?" Mumbo smirked, then got up from his chair. Thanks to his job, he could afford to sit almost the whole day, but whenever he did get up, he towered over War. "Oh, speaking of, he told me to call you. There's something wrong with his freezer."

"Of course there is..." Joel groaned and rolled his eyes. "How do you guys always manage to break something? I swear, I work more hours a day than you or Pearl in a week!"

"Be honest, you'd hate to sit in front of the desk the whole day," Mumbo snapped back. Joel sighed.

"I guess..." He muttered, before turning left to head towards the kitchen. 

His friend wasn't exactly wrong - if he was forced into a boring accounting job for the past few centuries, he would've already gone crazy. He needed to move, to lift, to do something with his hands. Funnily enough, his whole existence he was responsible for ruining things, and now his work pushed him to do the opposite. And he wasn't the only one with his occupation being a sick twist of their role. Mumbo, the man responsible for spreading plagues and diseases, was now in charge of keeping their documentation neat and organized - or at least as much as he was able to. Bdubs, who carried the burden of famine everywhere he went, now kept the whole motel fed. (Not that the dead needed it. Still, many preferred to still fulfill their natural needs. It made them feel more at home.) Only Pearl's role was still somewhat the same. She was one of the many different personifications of Death, and her role of leading both the horsemen, and the souls into their fates, hasn't shifted. 

Sometimes Joel wondered whether it was a punishment. It couldn't be - all their lives, they just did what they were created to do. And yet, the more he thought about it, the deeper the rift between his past self and his current self got. And he wasn't even sure which side was better to stay on.

It didn't take him all too long to fix the freezer in the kitchen, so in return, Bdubs treated him to a shot. Joel gladly accepted it, taking his favorite seat at the bar. He always went for something strong, something to dull the boredom and quiet the voices. The moment the barman slid over a shot of vodka in his direction, he took the whole thing in at once and almost crushed the glass in his bare hand.

"Can't we just ask the Council for a day off?" He whined, putting his head on the counter. "I'm so blummin' tired, man..."

"Ha! Good luck with that," Bdubs smirked, already preparing another shot for him. "Besides, you know only Pearl can leave this place. And she ain't risking her job just for our sake."

"She could... For once..." War sighed. Once another shot stopped one in front of his face, he grabbed it and held it up for a second. "You have anything else that needs fixin'?"

"Not that I know of... Why? You suddenly want to work?" Famine side eyed him.

"No, of course not! I'm just- Nevermind..." Joel groaned, then reached towards his phone. An old model, still with a physical keyboard - he could see some of the more recent tenants carrying much more modern devices. These did their job fairly well though, especially since the workers of the motel needed to communicate often. Like at that moment, with a message sent to him by Mumbo. 'Room 7134, something broke in the bathroom there.' "Welp, there goes my break..."

"You free this evening?" Bdubs asked. "Some residents formed a board games club... Seems pretty fun."

"I may come, but no promises." Joel downed the second shot, then pushed himself off the counter. Somewhere in the back of his head, he yearned to just stay there, get blackout drunk and skip to the next day. It wouldn't be the first time he did so. On the other hand, enjoying a drink once his job was done felt better. More earned. 

Ten minutes or so later, he was already standing under the room Mumbo directed him to, with his toolbox in one hand and the other rubbing his sweaty face. It was clearly one of these days when he was sure he could take the whole flight of stairs seven stories up, and slightly underestimated the distance. Once he decided he was in somewhat of a presentable state, he knocked on the door.

"Come on, open up, open up..." He huffed. "The sooner I'm done with this, the better..."

The door slowly opened, and the eyes of the same young woman from the reception peeked outside from the room. Then, she opened up a bit more.

"Oh, it's you, sir..." She whispered, still a bit shy. "Something, uh... Something broke under the sink in the bathroom. It started leaking when I opened it..."

"Probably one of the pipes broke. It shouldn't be a problem to fix." Once the door opened enough, Joel entered. 

He took a quick glance around the room, just enough to not seem suspicious. There were no signs of anyone living here, aside from her travel bag laid across the bed. The curtains were pulled over the window, making the whole room dark and a bit more cramped than it actually was. Other than that, everything seemed in order. A single bed with old, but clean bedding, a closet, a small bookshelf, a table with two chairs and a small kitchen counter. He opened the door leading to the cramped bathroom, then opened the cabinet under the sink. He let the water run for a moment, and quickly figured out what happened.

"There we go... The elbow broke," He hummed, then opened his toolbox.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, sir..." The woman sat on one of the chairs, in a way that allowed her to watch Joel as he worked. He just shrugged it off.

"If it didn't break on you, it'd break on someone else. It's fine, miss." He calmed her down, while taking out his wrench to remove the broken piping. Only then, something occurred to him, and he glanced back at her. "This is... The seventh floor, right?"

"Yes... Why?"

"Just... Nevermind." He muttered.

The rooms in the Morgue Mound Motel were not just distributed randomly. Each person that arrived already had their residence card on them, and a room assigned. The residents were grouped based on their biggest fault, their darkest sins. Thanks to that, the workers of the motel more or less knew what to expect from someone who came and was assigned a certain floor. This case stumped him, however... The seventh floor was for people whose biggest sin was violence. Murderers, abusers, but also victims of suicide. And whenever he looked back at the woman, he couldn't help but think as if she didn't fit this place at all. She seemed so shy and quiet... Unless she really did end up here on her own accord. That was, however, something he couldn't just ask her. There were certain rules attached to how residents should be treated by the staff. There were two things he wasn’t allowed to ask her straight away - what she believed in during her life, and how she died. Even though it was written in their residence card, they still tried to avoid the two topics as often as they could. He could always go down to the reception desk and check her documents. As long as Mumbo wasn't there, that is. He was quite particular about keeping information confidential. It wasn't that hard, since he tended to lose things easily, so looking through the documents was a nightmare for everyone who dared to try it.

"You know, miss," Joel eventually said, "Some dangerous people live on this here floor. Usually it's pretty safe here, but... If you ever feel threatened, just let us know."

"It's fine," The woman smiled in response. "I'm used to that. I was married once."

"Oh!" Joel huffed with a bit more surprise in his tone than he expected. To conceal his emotions, he quickly added "I mean, uh... I understand, ma'am. Has he, uh... Is he still, um... Somewhere out there?"

"You mean...? Oh! No, no. I was a widow by the time I died," she quickly corrected herself. Joel nodded in response. She looked so young, she was probably thirty, maybe under that... And she was already a widow? Poor woman...

"Well, you know, if you want to, I can look through our documents. Maybe he's still here. We could arrange a-"

"No, no no no, thank you," She quickly answered. Her hands gripped the edge of her dress tightly. "I'd rather not bump into him, in case he's still here. That'd be a bit... Awkward."

"Oh. Got it." Her backstory, or at least the one he made up in his head, was beginning to click in place. She married young, her husband passed away, and she took her own life in grief... That didn't explain a few things, but as far as he was aware, he shouldn't get into her business too much. "Well, uh... Still, the offer stands. If you need something, just let us know."

"I will... What is there, uh, to do, besides just sitting in one's room?"

"Well..." Joel hummed, trying on the new elbow. It fit just right. Fortunately, every room in the motel was fairly similar, which meant less problems with finding fitting spare parts. "There's the cafeteria, the bar, sometimes some small events are held there by the residents, there's the library... And the garden, I guess..."

"The garden?" Even with his back turned to her, Joel could feel the sudden surge of energy in her voice.

"Well... Garden might be a big word. It's pretty... Run down. Dead, just like everyone here." He chuckled bitterly. "There are also some vending machines with snacks and other stuff, all on the first floor. And... Yeah, that's pretty much" He muttered. He didn't mention the gym and a few other places, since admitting to slacking off with his work on repairing them would be quite embarrassing. He could do that in front of his coworkers, but not when it came to such a nice lady. There was something about her bright eyes that made him want to make the motel appear better than it actually was. 

"I'd love to see the garden..." She whispered. "I'm sure it can't be that bad..."

"I guess you'll see for yourself," He concluded, before closing the cabinet and getting up from the ground. He turned the tap on and sighed with relief, seeing that the leakage was finally fixed. "There we go."

"Thank you so much, sir." The woman smiled brightly. Joel winced slightly as another strange sting hurt him in the chest once more.

"It's no problem, ma'am..."

"No need to be so official." She got up from her chair and reached her hand out to him. Compared to his, her hand was tiny, making Joel afraid that he'd snap all her bones with one handshake. "I'm Elisabeth... I mean, I guess that's how you had me written down. But my friends used to call me Lizzie."

"Li- Lizzie...?" The janitor repeated breathlessly. He accepted the handshake with utmost care, as if he was actually afraid of hurting her with such a simple gesture.

"Yes... Is, uh, is something wrong...?"

"No, no, not at all." Joel shook his head and pulled his hand back. Lizzie... That was the name on the strange letter they got during the last mail day, it had to be. The whole time, he was so busy with his work that he forgot about its existence, but at that moment, the memory hit him like a kick from a horse. That still didn't explain why exactly the letter arrived at the motel before she did, but... That seemingly solved their little mystery. "I, uh, I have to go now. Have a nice day, ma'am..."

"You too, sir." Lizzie gave him one last warm smile, before closing the door behind him.

"Lizzie... Huh..." He repeated quietly, before turning towards the elevators. That encounter answered so many questions, but caused just as many. At that moment though, everything seemed to be clear to Joel. All he had left to do was go back to the reception, grab the letter and deliver it to the strange, sweet lady... So that he would never see her again, and never truly learn what her deal is. The janitor took a deep breath, slowly releasing the air through his mouth. He then entered the freshly repaired elevator, which carried him down, towards the first floor.

Chapter Text

Joel wanted to head to retrieve the letter immediately, but as always, his work found its way to occupy him for the rest of the day. An AC to fix in one room, a broken door lock in another, lightbulbs to be replaced, floors to be mopped and swept. This kind of boring, repetitive job was both a curse and a blessing for him, as they involved him just enough to keep his mind from wandering. Quickly, the memory about the strange, yet sweet lady from the seventh floor vanished somewhere in the back of his head.

But it returned right as he laid his head to sleep on the very same night.

Joel usually didn't have many dreams; for an inhuman creature like him, dreams were not very desirable. They often carried some sort of deeper, prophetic meaning, and it wasn't in his best interest to sit and think over them for too long. But this one time, it happened. 

He dreamed about sitting around their big, round table in the living room, sorting through mail. And surprisingly enough, Lizzie was also there. He was sitting next to her, putting the letters on piles according to floors they had to be delivered to. But all this time, he couldn't keep his focus on the job. Instead, he kept turning to Lizzie, looking at her, awaiting some sort of response. And the moment she finally turned around to him and gave him the sweetest, kindest smile Joel had ever seen, he finally woke up.

"Crap..." He groaned, rubbing his face to wake up earlier. "The letter... But... Why was it here early? What the hell does all of that mean?"

After opening the window to let in a bit of fresh, cold air, he began dressing up for the day. For just a second, he found himself caught on the view outside. His windows overlooked the majority of the garden in the back of the motel. The garden that was supposed to be his responsibility to keep alive and thriving, and a responsibility he failed quite spectacularly. What was once a colorful field of flowers, now resembled an overgrown cemetery. The plants wilted, twisted, the dry leaves turned into thorns and wrapped around each other like a deceasing amalgamation of once beautiful, blooming growth. Joel let out a soft sigh. At first, whenever he saw how much neglect the garden had fallen into, it made him ashamed. Now, he just avoided looking that way whenever he could. After a moment too long of staring at the dead garden, he pulled the heavy curtains over the window, put on his vest and left the room.

"Mumbo!" He called out from afar as he approached the reception. He didn't even brush his teeth or eat any breakfast - the memory of his encounter with Lizzie, both in and out of sleep, made him forget about everything else in the world. I'll just give her the letter, he thought, and the rest will be history. "Mumbo! You have the... The letter somewhere on ya?"

"The letter?" Mumbo furrowed his brows, looking up at Joel. For a second, the janitor turned to the man standing on the other side of the reception. A bit taller than him, blond, with blue eyes that only spelled out chaos. Joel remembered him, as he often hung out at the bar the same evenings that he did. He groaned and rolled his eyes, vaguely gesturing to Mumbo to guide him what he meant. "Oh, that letter! I should have it somewhere here..."

"Should." Joel rolled his eyes, then leaned against the counter right next to the blond man. He could swear he knew his name once. "And what are you here for, huh?"

"Just having a chinwag with your pretty bellboy... Not a crime, is that?" He grinned. The sound of his annoying, snarky voice immediately reminded Joel of his name. Martyn. 

The janitor groaned, looking down at how Mumbo started sorting through his documents, looking for the letter. As always, his desk was full to the brim with all sorts of papers, files, notes, office supplies and other items that probably didn't have a place on the reception. Having two pairs of arms probably made it easier for him to look through all this stuff, but also made it twice as easy to make a mess. At least that meant Mumbo perfectly filled his role as the horsemen of Pestilence. They were lucky that the mess in the documents didn't spread any diseases. It created a plethora of other problems, however.

"Gods damn it, Mumbo!" Joel groaned, slamming his fists against the desk. "How could you lose it?!"

"I- I didn't! Pearl gave it to me, it should be somewhere here!"

"Chill out... You've got a whole eternity to find it, don'tcha?" Martyn smirked in response. As anger began boiling inside of him, Joel grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him.

"Shut up, you!" He growled. "Nobody asked your sassy mouth for an opinion! Blummin' hell..."

"Oh, chill out!" Martyn grinned. His snarky expression and the fact that Joel's anger left no impression on him made War feel even more annoyed. He was on the brink of grabbing that jerk and dragging him straight into the Shute. "Don't you have some floors to mop, hm?"

"You dirty little fu-"

"Joel!" Mumbo suddenly interrupted the two of them. Once the janitor turned around, he noticed the receptionist leaning over the desk, clutching the letter tightly. He let go of Martyn, then began wiping his bloodied hands on his shirt. "I found it... Why do you need it? You found who it belongs to?"

"I think so..." He grunted and pulled the letter out of the Pestilence's hands. "Thanks. I'll come later and return it if it's not the right person."

"If I'm not here then, just leave it in the safe," Mumbo pointed to somewhere under the desk, then sat back down.

When Joel finally left the desk and stepped away towards the elevator, Martyn chuckled bitterly and returned to his spot.

"You don't have it easy with this guy, do ya?"

"He's... A good friend. Just gets angry easily." The receptionist smiled nervously. He went back to writing something down, the other pair of hands rubbing each other like a fly.

"If everyone here was as sweet as you are, I wouldn't even need my letter... I'd rather stay right here." Martyn smiled and put his head on the counter, his eyes watching Mumbo vigilantly. Pestilence smiled, his greyish cheeks turning the color of ripe strawberries.

"Oh, come on... Besides, don't you have your king to compliment like that, mate?"

"He left... Got his letter last week." The blond man sighed. "And now I'm here all alone... With you..."

Joel turned around for a second, making an audible gagging noise at what he just heard. Usually Pearl was the one to make sure the rules were followed among the staff. Suddenly, the urge to ask her to forbid the receptionist from flirting with the tenants crossed his mind. However, disappeared as soon as he entered the elevator.

"Lady Elisab- I mean, Lizzie? Hello?" Joel asked, knocking on the door to room 7134. "Are you there? I need to, uh, talk to you... It's pretty important..."

He was only answered by silence. Maybe she was taking a shower? No, as he put his ear up to the door, there was no hum of running water. Was she asleep? Some tenants did that, despite not really needing to do so because of their state… Or did something happen to her? But what? She couldn't exactly get badly hurt, or sick, or... Joel shook his head, then knocked on the door once more.

"Lady Lizzie? Are you there?"

Immediately, his mind got clouded with worries. Should he break the door? But what if there was no emergency? Should he just slide the letter under the door? But what if the letter wasn't meant for her after all? There was no other option at that point, but the idea of delivering the letter to the wrong person still sounded scary to him. Maybe if he just waited a bit longer...

"She's not there," Suddenly, a raspy voice commented right next to him. He jumped from surprise and took a step back. Someone's head poked out from the door of the room right next to Lizzie's. His reddish eyes and blond eyes were shining a bit, as if made of actual fire. "Left this morning."

"Do you know where she is?"

"She said she wanted to see the garden... I told her there's nothing to see there, but she insisted." The man shrugged. Just like with Martyn, all it took was the sound of his voice to remind Joel of his name.

"Right... Thanks, Tango."

"You need me to tell her something?" Tango asked, glancing at the letter in the janitor's hands. The man noticed the gesture, and pulled the envelope closer to his chest.

"No. I'll deal with it."

"Suit yourself." Tango shrugged, then disappeared inside of his room once more.

"Wanted to see the garden... Shit..." Joel whispered under his breath once he reached the elevator again. Why would she even want to go there? The windows of her room overlooked the garden, so she had probably already seen how bad it looked. Why couldn't she go to the bar? Or the library? Why the garden? The man cursed himself for not locking the gate to that place ages ago, just like he wanted to. Out of sight, out of mind, he said to excuse himself... Although, if he really wanted to commit to that idea, that would also mean covering all the windows that overlooked the garden. But that wouldn't be that big of a deal. As long as he didn't have to worry about that stupid place anymore.

Joel eventually reached the first floor, then used a back exit through his storeroom to enter the garden. He closed his eyes for a second, to avoid the sight of all of his rusting tools. Out of sight, out of mind, he repeated in his head. Either way, Lizzie was the first person to go there in years. When she sees how big of a mess the garden is, she won't want to enter it ever again, and the problem will disappear once again. 

"Lady Lizzie?" He called out the moment he left the storeroom. The strong, wild scent of the growth around him made his head spin for just a second. War entered the narrow paths, most of them overgrown with unruly plants. She had to be here somewhere... But what if he just narrowly missed her, and she was back in her room already? He obviously had better things to do than chase around a single resident all day...

"Oh, it's you, sir!" Joel jumped for the second time that day, when he heard her voice just behind himself. "Were you looking for me?"

Joel turned around, looking at her surprise. He only saw her the previous day, but she already looked quite different. Her long hair, which was once a dirty blond, now turned into a pretty, bright, pink color. It reached almost to her waist, with two little buns tied up on the sides of her head. Even without any makeup, and in loose, dirty clothing, she looked absolutely stunning in his eyes. And only then, he noticed something even stranger. Just behind her, maybe a few feet away, grew a rose bush... And that was the strange thing. It grew . Lush, green leaves stood out among the dark, dirty, wilted plants, and the white buds and flowers shined as brightly as freshly cut diamonds. The man's mouth slowly opened.

"I was, uh..." He whispered, his hand slowly sliding under his vest. "What... What happened to that rose bush?"

"Oh, that?" Lizzie turned around and approached the blooming plant. "You told me about the garden yesterday, and I really wanted to see it for myself... It looks like a mess, but with some work, it can start looking good again!" She smiled brightly in his direction. "Maybe you have some gardening tools that you could lend me? I only really need some scissors, and a rake, and-"

"I- I shouldn't lend our tools to residents like that... Wouldn't want you getting hurt by accident." Joel announced in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. He slid his hand out of his vest, once he hid the letter in an inner pocket, away from her sight. Something in his chest heated up once he saw her stubborn smile.

"Oh, it’s not like I’m gonna cut my hands off with them!" She smirked and nudged Joel's shoulder. In any other case, he would shove her away for daring to touch him. But this time, a wave of warmth spread over his body, starting from the very place she touched him. "Besides, if you won't give me any, that's fine! I can just do this!"

Saying that, Lizzie approached another bush, which leaned heavily on the first one. She reached between the thorned stems, then grabbed and pinched off one of the dried buds. Immediately, a brand new shoot bloomed straight from the stem. A bright, red flower opened, the petals more delicate than silk. Joel gasped quietly.

"You..." He whispered.

"I guess it's because this place is full of magic, isn't it?- Okay, well, magic is probably a wrong word.. Some sort of metaphysical… Godly… Power… Stuff?" She smiled and looked up at him. To War's surprise, she didn't look even a little bit shocked at her own ability. As if that was the most normal thing in the world for her. "Bet all of you can do something like that, right?"

"Yeah... Some of us..."

That was a complete lie, the first one that came to Joel's head. Sure, he and his coworkers had some inhuman abilities, thanks to their inhuman origins, but... He's never seen a normal resident, a mortal, do something even remotely similar to this. And here she was, taking down old, dead parts of the wilted plants and making them regrow anew. How was she even able to do that? Was that a good sign? Or was it something he just never picked up on before? Immediately, he turned to the bush and repeated the same gesture she just did. The dried bud dropped in front of his feet, but a new one was nowhere to be seen. Joel turned to her, looking a bit like a confused child, unable to grasp the consequences of his action. Lizzie couldn't help but giggle at that.

"I mean, uh... I never had a... Hand for flowers."

"I can imagine..." She whispered. "The incarnation of War doesn't sound like a great gardener, does it...?"

"You... You know?" He whispered, hiding his arms behind himself. Of course, he did little to hide his inhuman traits, but for the first time, he suddenly felt bad about showing them. Shameful.

"It wasn't hard to figure out." The woman shrugged, then proceeded through the garden. Completely enchanted by her mystery, Joel followed right behind her. "I mean... I saw your receptionist guy, and then your cook, and things kinda started clicking into place. I guess there's also an incarnation of Death somewhere here...?"

"Y-yeah. But, uh... She's probably busy." Joel quickly answered, and then added "But you, uh... You know your way with flowers."

For a moment, he wanted to punch himself for saying that. What was that even supposed to mean? Sure, he had a terrible hand for plants, but she was… More than good with them. He’d never seen anything like that, neither out there in the world of mortals, nor here. Unless it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe he just saw things that didn’t actually happen. But as he turned around to glance at the rose bush, it felt a bit too real to be a mistake.

"I always wanted to have a garden..." She sighed, pulling her hand against another plant. Immediately, it began sprouting, with thick, green leaves covering the once dead branches of the bush. "Best I could do was a few pots in my kitchen... Until my husband destroyed them."

"Destroyed them...?" Joel repeated quietly. "Why would he do that...?"

"He was... A lot." Lizzie hummed. "Childish, mean, loud, an attention seeker... But... I always wished to have my own garden." She reiterated her older thought. "It just never came to be. But if you didn't mind lending me some of the tools, I could-"

"I'll show you my storeroom," He interrupted her, still in awe of the discovery. "I'll give you spare keys, even."

"Really?" The woman turned around with excitement in her eyes. "Thank you! You're wonderful, mister..." She smiled. "Oh, sorry, what was your name again?"

War puffed out his cheeks. Did he even tell her his name? Or did he get so lost every time he wanted to, he just forgot?

"Joel. Just call me Joel."

"Joel?" Lizzie repeated. "That's a pretty name."

"Not as pretty as you..." He whispered, but as he realized what his stupid mouth just allowed to slip, he began coughing and clearing his throat. "I- I mean...! Not as pretty as yours. Your name, that is. And, uh, you in general, I mean. You look... Different now."

"Oh! Must be the hair. I found some hair dye in my bathroom, someone probably left it behind… Is that alright?"

"Yeah, of course! Totally! Looks lovely!" Joel quickly answered. He could feel his whole body sweating from the sudden wave of stress. It was worse than leading a whole cavalry into battle. All of a sudden, every single word he said sounded completely idiotic. But it didn't seem like she minded... For some reason. Why was that? Did she fear him, as the incarnation of War? Was she afraid of making him upset for whatever reason? He quickly shook his head, trying to chase the intrusive throughs away.

"Thank you..." A shy blush spread over her face as well. Joel hid his hands in his pockets, to hide just how much they started to sweat, and how his marks began to leak. "Oh, I almost forgot... You were looking for me, weren't you...? Did something happen?"

"Happen?" He repeated. One of his hands slowly reached towards the inner pocket in his vest. Yes, he was looking for her... But at that moment, it all seemed unimportant anymore. That stupid letter no longer mattered. If he did give it to her, she would have to leave soon... And the garden would fall into disrepair again, he thought. Yes, that was his true reason. There was definitely no other reason to hold the letter from her. As soon as she's done, I'll give the letter to her. For sure. "Oh, yeah, I was just, um... I wanted to see whether that piping under your sink is still alright. Or if you... Needed help with something else."

"Really?" She smirked. Joel turned away, really not wanting to show just how flustered the whole encounter made him. "Yeah, it's all just fine... Thank you for helping me, again. I really appreciate it."

"Oh, it's nothing, really!" He waved his arms in a disregarding gesture. "I'm here if you need me for... For anything. Just... Just let me know."

"Thank you, mister Joel..." Lizzie reached out and grabbed his hand. "You're... Really kind. And sweet."

"I'm-!" War immediately pulled his hands back. "D-don't even joke, miss! I'm not kind or sweet, blummin' heck..."

Lizzie tilted her head to the side. There was something so... Intriguing about him. She could tell that he was a nice, caring man... But he had his walls up. So many walls. She should've probably expected it, given his role... Still, she couldn't help but see there was more to him than he wanted to show. Maybe even more than he knew himself. Eventually, she pulled back. She already found herself curious about this place, but she wouldn’t want to risk pushing anyone’s boundaries. Especially that of the incarnation of War himself. Even if he seemed pleasant enough.

"I, uh... I'm sorry," She whispered, turning away. "I didn't want to make you upset. And, uh... To take so much of your time."

"It's... I should go." Joel whispered, then turned around. His hand still itched in the place where she touched him. He started scratching the place, hoping for the strange feeling to go away as soon as possible. "Good day to you, ma'am."

Before Lizzie could say anything else, Joel walked away towards his storeroom. His palms were sweating and his legs felt as if they were filled with cotton. On one hand, he wished he could just turn around and stay with her, kept listening to her voice, stare into her eyes, watch her just do whatever... But that wasn't him. It wasn't the Horseman of the Apocalypse he was supposed to be. He reached into his pocket, hiding the letter as deep as he could, then grabbed his toolbox and entered the motel once more. Now, he just needed to find something to tend to. Quickly, before these strange, foreign thoughts threatened to make a permanent residence in his head.

Chapter Text

For the next few days, Joel did whatever he could to avoid thinking. Thoughts of Lizzie and their encounter in the garden kept swirling around his head. As motivating as it was for him to finally catch up to his work, there was something about the whole event that just couldn't leave his mind. The way Lizzie talked to him and held his hand, how she talked about her husband, and above all, how all of the flowers bloomed under her lightest touch... Each thought of her presence felt like warm sunlight grazing his skin. But at the same time, it reminded him of the letter he withheld from her, and still carried in the pocket of his vest. He could tell that what he did was bad; but what else was he supposed to do? There was something so strange about that woman, and no matter the cost, he needed to get to the bottom of this.

War couldn't decide on what to do with the letter. For just a second, the idea of throwing it straight into the Shute crossed his mind... But that sounded too cruel, to doom her to stay in the motel forever. He still considered that once she put the garden back into a presentable form, he would just give the letter back to her. But then again, with how fast she worked, and how the place was getting brighter and livelier every time Joel looked outside of his window, it felt as if it would come too soon. Too soon for him to figure out this great mystery of what was up with her. Still, completely destroying the letter and making her stay in this place forever also seemed like a bad idea. He also thought of opening the letter, just to have a peek and maybe figure out what to do from there... She’d probably go into some sort of good place for innocent souls. He couldn’t imagine another possibility. But, if for whatever reason, she wouldn’t, wouldn’t staying at the motel be a better alternative for her…? 

Joel shook that thought off immediately. Opening people's letters was an inexcusable breach of rules. (As if withholding the letter from her wasn’t.) It was as if he was getting into the most personal parts of her life, taking a peek and judging who he was in her life. And he could never imagine himself doing something like that to her.

At last, War decided to make use of his coworker's messiness. Once Mumbo was out on a break, he snuck into the reception, messed it up even more than it already was, and threw a bunch of random papers into the safe. The plan was easy - if the receptionist was to ever ask Joel about the letter, all he would have to do was convince him that he actually did put it back in its place, and it was Mumbo's fault that he lost it by accident. And with how gullible Pestilence was, it was incredibly easy to pull off.

But as these nagging thoughts about the kind, pink-haired lady got stronger, he couldn't just hold them in his head forever. A few days after their meeting in the garden, as Lizzie woke up and up from bed, she noticed a little piece of paper slid under her door.

Meet me in the lobby at noon.
If you want to, that is. No pressure.
-J.

"J... Oh. That's probably him." 

Lizzie smiled at the memory of their meeting. Ever since then, they haven't seen each other much - anytime they passed each other by in the halls, they would just exchange quick greetings. Joel didn't seem exactly keen on talking to her again, and he still hasn't given her the promised spare keys. Did she do something wrong? Or was he closed off for some other reason? Lizzie could imagine that someone like that, the literal incarnation of War itself, wouldn't be very attuned with his emotions. But even that little note, an invitation to meet, meant a lot to her. She turned to the clock on her wall. It was just approaching eleven, but she didn't really have anything better to do. After getting herself into a more presentable state, she left her room to wait for him in the lobby. 

Right as eleven struck, Lizzie was already sitting in the lobby. She was way too early, but from her experience, she'd rather be much earlier than even a minute too late. Not really knowing what to do with herself, she sat on one of the old, almost antique armchairs. The lobby was empty, aside from the receptionist, who was as always trying to get his papers in order. Eventually, she just grabbed one of the many magazines left in the lobby. Some of them appeared fairly new, coming from the times when she was alive. Some of them looked older than her parents. Mindlessly, she began looking through one of them. Her eyes danced between the letters, unable to focus on anything that was written. For a second, she even wondered whether the article she was trying to read was in English. 

"You don’t look like the type to be into motorcycles, lady." She suddenly heard a snarky, but ultimately harmless comment thrown to her over the coffee table. Lizzie looked up from over her magazine, noticing a blond man looking at her with a cheeky grin. Only then, she closed the newspaper and glanced at the cover.

"Oh... That would explain why I didn't understand anything." She chuckled, embarrassed at her own fumble. The man laughed in response, taking a loose, liberated seat on the armchair opposite to hers. "You want it?"

"No, thanks..." The man hummed, then grabbed an old-looking gossip magazine from the table. He didn't even look at what he was picking, as his eyes were stuck on the reception table. Lizzie was sitting with her back to it, so the man had a perfect view on the working incarnation of Pestilence. "Nervous?"

"Huh?"

"Don't worry, I've been there..." He shrugged. "You'll either get used to it, or get your letter soon enough that you won't have to."

"How long have you been here...?" She asked carefully, to which he laughed again.

"I wish I knew... I'm Martyn, by the way."

"Lizzie." She whispered her name, as if she was afraid of sharing it. "Do you... Usually just sit here, in the lobby?"

"No... But the only person I cared about left this place a while ago. So I'm looking for someone else to latch on to. And this guy..." He gestured vaguely in Mumbo's direction. "Pretty sweet, don'tcha think?"

"I... I guess..." Lizzie chuckled. She grabbed another magazine, but she didn't seem actually interested in reading it. "So you've been... Left alone here?"

"Yeah... Kinda sucks, but if that's what was meant to happen..." Martyn shrugged once more. "All I can do is make the best of it. Speaking of... If you ever want to hang out, come to room 3269." He winked at her in an inviting manner. She smiled at the sentiment.

"Thanks, I'll remember that." She nodded. Unable to focus on reading, she turned around to look at the reception desk once more. "Poor guy..."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you seen this mess he has on his desk?"

"Yeah... Hard not to notice."

"It looks like even he's tired of it..."

"Probably..." Martyn hummed, hiding his face under the magazine. After just a moment, Lizzie put her hand on the magazine and pushed it down, their eyes meeting.

"We gotta help him."

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me!" Despite starting out abashed, her courage returned once more. 

"Are you out of your mind? This guy is one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse! The literal personification of Pestilence! Sure, he's cute, but we shouldn't get too much into his business! I'm not risking getting the black plague for messing up his papers!"

"You don't think he'll kill us for offering help, will he?"

"I guess... But..." Martyn groaned and flopped across the armchair. "That sounds so booooring… And unnecessary. I’m sure he’s doing fine."

"Really? Don't you want to help that 'sweet guy' you apparently like? Make a good impression on him?" She teased him. Martyn gripped his magazine tighter. “Wow… And I took you for a gentleman, Martyn…”

"O-of course I want to! Tsk!" He scoffed.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah!" Immediately, the man tossed the newspaper aside and got up from his armchair. "Listen here, you're looking at the right hand man of the greatest king in history! If there's anyone who knows how to figure this out, it's me!"

"Then come on!"

Lizzie grabbed Martyn by the wrists and pulled him towards the reception desk. At that moment, all the fears about her incoming meeting with Joel vanished. Now, the most important thing for her was helping the guy who treated her so nicely upon her arrival at the motel. She dragged her newly made friend to the reception desk, then rang the bell to grab his attention.

"One sec- Ouch!" Mumbo groaned as he attempted to lift his head and banged against the top of his desk. "Dang it... How may I help you...?"

"Hello!" Lizzie answered with excitement.

"Ayup," Martyn smirked.

"We noticed that you have a bit of trouble with your... Paperwork situation."

"You have no idea..."Mumbo chuckled bitterly. His two lower arms crossed across his torso, while the upper pair began digging through all of his documents. "Has been like that since day one..."

"Maybe you'd like some help?" The woman offered with a bright smile.

"Help...?"

"It can't be that hard to manage, can it?" Martyn asked "We can try color-coding your files..."

"Tried that already. I quickly forgot what each color meant."

"How about making a list of where things are?"

"Tried that too. Lost the list the next day."

"How about sorting things alphabetically...?" The blond man's enthusiasm dropped a bit.

"You think I haven't tried that? It took me too much time to remember which letter comes after which!"

"How about-"

"Listen, Martyn," Mumbo sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one of his free hands. "I appreciate the effort, but... I guess I just cannot be helped. I tried to get these things organized for longer than both of you were alive. It just can't be done. Now if you'll excuse me..." Pestilence murmured under his breath.

"Can't be done, huh?"

Martyn leaned over the desk, a bit, cheeky grin making its way to his face. Can't be done, impossible, absurd... He heard that word throughout his life too many times. Why would he let it haunt him in his afterlife? Immediately, the man jumped on and slid over the desk, then landed on the other side of the reception, knocking all the papers down on the ground.

"So? Where do we start?"

"Ma- Martyn!"

"Chill out! Between the three of us, we'll get it done in just a few hours!" Martyn said, beginning to look through all the documents. Mumbo turned around to him and grabbed him by the hands. "How about we-"

"Martyn! I can't have you looking through all of these! It's highly confidential!" Mumbo shouted at him. The fungi-covered spots on his skin flared up, his brown eyes turning a bit more reddish tint. The blond man recoiled as a wave of fear crossed him, but seeing that, Mumbo sighed and let go of him. "Sorry, I just... I told you. It can't be helped. I tried everything."

"Then... Then I'll stay here as long as I need to, to figure out something that will finally work for you." He announced, then raised his hand to cover his eyes. "Even if I'll have to gouge my own eyes out. I promise."

"You... You mean it...?"

"Yeah! Although, I'd rather not gouge my eyes out if that's okay with ya." He added quickly with an embarrassed smile on his face. Lizzie chuckled, watching silently as the receptionist finally got off his chair and sat on the ground right next to him. 

"It is."

"Mumbo!" All three of them suddenly flinched as someone's voice boomed over Lizzie's shoulder. Only then, they noticed that Joel approached the desk, and was looking at them from above. "Have you found it yet?"

"The letter? I- Are you sure you left it here?" Pestilence turned to his coworker. "I swear I haven't seen it since-"

"Blummin' heck, Mumbo, I left it where you told me to! It's not my fault you can't keep anything organized here!"

"We're working on that!" Martyn answered him, winking in Joel's direction.

"Wh- The hell are you doing here, Martyn?"

"Helping your friend, duh!" He grinned.

"Oh no you ain't, get out of there before I m-"

"Joel!" Lizzie grabbed the janitor's hands before he could slam them against the desk. Immediately, his face softened as he looked at her, and sighed. He was probably overreacting... But the idea of Mumbo cleaning his desk and figuring out that Joel did, in fact, lie to him, put him on edge. He could only hope that Pestilence's legendary mess couldn't be helped easily.

"Sorry..." The man sighed, pulled his hands away from her grip and unclenched his fists. "Just got... Upset."

"I can tell." Lizzie smiled, then finally dragged him away from the desk. "So? We met, like you asked... Where did you want to go?"

"I, uh..." Joel chuckled nervously. Because of his anger, he completely forgot what he wanted to do in the first place. "Have you, um... Seen our library yet?"

"I haven't... But I wanted to go there," She confessed. "Why?"

"Come with me. You're gonna love it."

Calling the place a library was a bit of a stretch. It was a pretty big room with several bookshelves against each wall, and a few chairs, armchairs and tables in the middle. The bookshelves were full to the brim with books, some of them dating back a few centuries, while some appeared brand new. There was no librarian, no borrowing list, no late fees - anyone was free to come whenever they wanted and rent any of the available books, as long as they'd return them eventually. Joel came here very rarely, only ever to sweep the floors. Sometimes, he'd look at the people there, reading and relaxing, with a tinge of jealousy in his eyes. He wished he could be like one of them, just sitting there without a care in the world... But he couldn't. And even if he did, he couldn't imagine himself reading. The big, scary incarnation of War, reading? What would they think of him? Anyone who looked at him, wouldn't think of the word 'books' as their first association. But for Lizzie, he could make an exception this one time.

The library was pretty quiet that day, with only a few people sitting on a pile of beanbags in the corner and reading. Immediately, Lizzie approached one of the bookshelves and began looking through it with excitement. Joel watched her from afar, only glancing at the titles that mostly seemed foreign to him.

"It's so cool in here..." She whispered.

"I did fix the AC here last week," Joel grumbled, to which Lizzie chuckled. Eventually, she pulled out a big, heavy book and pulled it close to her chest.

"So... Do I have to tell someone I'm renting it?"

"No... Just take it, and return it once you're done." Joel explained, taking a quick peek at the cover. It portrayed a young, blond woman, drawn on a flower background. The non-descriptive title ‘The doll’ rang no bells in Joel’s head. But Lizzie seemed excited about finding the book… That unabashed thrill in her eyes was completely irresistible to him. Still, he kept his distance, to not accidentally make a wrong move, or scare her. "You, uh... You like books, don't you?" He asked, once again wanting to bite off his own tongue as such a stupid question.

"Yes!" She nodded. "I love them... My husband didn't like me watching TV, but he was never against me reading..." She added a bit more quietly. "Do you have a favorite book?"

"I, uh... I don't. Not much of a reader."

"Really?" Lizzie chuckled and tilted her head to the side. "Let me guess... You're 'too manly' for books?"

"Well, I…"

"I'm sure we'll find something for you." She said, turning back to the bookshelf and beginning to look for something for him. Joel bit his lips, noticing that one of the people in the corner was looking at him. As hard as it was for him, he turned around, to hopefully forget about the fact that they weren’t alone. If it was just him, he’d yell at the tenant to stop gawking, but he wanted to save Lizzie seeing another one of his outbursts. "Oh, how about that? I only read the first book from the series, but it's really fun... It's about this white-haired guy who kills monsters, and-"

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good." War finally agreed and once she handed him the book in a red cover, he hid it within his arms. "Thanks, Lizzie..."

"You gotta tell me if you liked it once you're done." She smiled. "You know, that guy from this book reminds me of you... People see him as a monster, but most of the time, he's more human than other people."

"I..." Joel immediately turned around. He was at a complete loss for words. It was as if she knew how to push his buttons to get him to react like that. Finally, he stepped out of the library, waiting for her to follow behind him. Eventually, she did. "I, uh... I have to go now. I have a lot of work to do today."

"Really? Aw..." Lizzie sighed. "Alright, I won't stop you..."

"Oh, right. One more thing."

"Yes?"

Joel reached into his pocket, then slid something small and cold into Lizzie's hand. As the woman looked down, she saw a small, silver key, attached to a flower-shaped keychain. Immediately, the dots in her head connected, and she glanced up at him again.

"Is that... The key to your storeroom?"

"Yes. But... Don't tell anyone you have it, okay? Especially my... Coworkers." He explained quickly. "You won't be in trouble, I promise, but... But I'll be."

"Got it." Her hand clutched the key tightly, and she slipped it into the back pocket of her pants. "Thank you, Joel..."

"It's nothing. Have a nice day, lady."

"You too!" She waved behind him as Joel stepped away. He groaned quietly, the warmth in his chest getting a bit annoying to deal with. If she was to stay in the motel for a while longer, he risked telling her things he didn't want to say... Things that could spell disaster for both of them.

"So? How did the cleanup go?" Lizzie asked as she approached the reception desk.

When leaning over, she quickly noticed how much better the place was looking already. Most of the papers were already sorted and put into color-coded folders, each labelled with exactly what was inside. All of the pens, pencils and other office suppliers were put away into pen holders and drawers. As she bent a bit more forward, she noticed the receptionist and his snarky blond friend, still on the floor, their faces a bit closer than she expected. After clearing her throat, both of them immediately pushed the other away and looked up at her.

"Ayup!" Martyn huffed with a big smile, his face still overcome with a blush. "We're, uh, almost done!" 

"I can tell..." She chuckled. "Do you need my help here?"

"No, no, everything is in order!" Mumbo quickly added, getting up from the floor. Quickly, he started fixing his untied tie. "But, uh... Still, thanks for suggesting the help. It, um... Actually worked. At least for now."

"See?" Martyn smirked. "And if you need my help again, just let me know. Even when I leave... I'm sure your cute, pitiful face will find someone who'd love to help you."

"Thanks... Hey! What do you mean, pitiful?"

"And where did you go?" Martyn asked, jumping over the reception desk once more and landing next to her. "What did that jerk of a janitor want from you?"

"He showed me the library!"

"The... Library...? Oh." Martyn smirked. "Sure... I should probably go there soon. Been a while."

"You should!" She nodded, but then added "Although... I guess you're not leaving the lobby anytime soon?"

"I don't think I am." The man agreed, looking back at Mumbo for a second. Pestilence just got off his chair and began putting all of his files back into the big cabinet behind him. He held all of them with care and reverence, as if one mishandling could cause all of their hard work to go to waste. 

Eventually, Lizzie decided to leave the two of them again. They clearly had enough fun without her interference. As she took the elevator up to her floor, she pulled the key out of her pocket and looked down at it. It looked brand new and shiny, as if he just made it, specifically for her. But he couldn' havet, right? And the flower keychain... It took her a while to figure out what sort of flower that was. Red, with round, slightly tattered petals. Her best guess was a geranium. She smiled with hope in her eyes, then gripped the key tightly. 

Maybe he wasn't all bad. Well, she knew that for sure. Now the question was, could she prove that to him as well?

Chapter Text

Over the next few days, Lizzie had her hands full with work in the garden. She woke up early in the morning, even before the meek, orange sun rose over the endless horizon, and snuck into Joel's storeroom to retrieve all the tools she needed. At first, she worked hard until sunset - being dead meant she technically had no need for sleep or sustenance. However, she eventually found it better to take a few breaks throughout the day. She spent them reading, roaming the halls of the motel or chatting with fellow residents. Only after a few days, she decided to venture into the cafeteria she heard so many things about.

It was a pretty spacious and surprisingly clean area, something between a restaurant found in fancy hotels, and a school cafeteria. Rows of long benches filled up most of the space, the rest being filled with smaller, round tables. The windows were big, overlooking the front yard of the motel. The food was served in the form of a buffet, the variety of meals making Lizzie question whether all of them were really made by only one person. Especially since most of the time, she saw them sitting at the bar and pouring drinks for residents. Throughout most of the day the cafeteria was pretty empty, with many tables filling up only during usual meal times - but there was always someone sitting at the bar. At first, Lizzie stayed away from that place. Not only was she not used to the taste of alcohol, it also awoke some bitter memories from the time when she was still alive. She mostly just watched the spot from afar whenever she ate, paying more attention to the barman than to anyone.

From what she heard from Joel, his name was Bdubs - although she never learned what it actually meant. At first, hearing about the horseman of Famine filling the role of the motel's cook and barman filled her with unease. If the man who spread hunger and suffering among living people was responsible for this place's food, was it even safe? But as she quickly realized, it was, in face, safe - and quite tasty at that. Famine was rather quiet, only ever asking tenants the questions to get them to open up and pour their sadness over the glass. Lizzie found it a bit interesting how he sometimes grabbed a bunch of moss growing on his cape (which at first she thought was just a strange fabric, but the flowers that started blooming all over it made her give up on the idea) and threw it into people's drinks. It seemed to have a strange ability to calm people down, especially when they clearly had enough for the day. Finally, one evening, Lizzie decided to break the taboo that loomed over her all her mortal life, and sat at the high bar chair.

All it took Bdubs was one glance at her to start making her a drink. He didn't even ask for her preference - as if he knew what she needed better than she did. Maybe there was something to it, as she had never drunk something stronger than a beer. Eventually, the barman handed her a yellowish drink in a funnel-shaped glass. The strong smell of citrus piqued her interest right away.

"It's pretty good..." She hummed after taking a sip. "How did you know...?"

"I just know." The man smiled gently at her, then grabbed one of the dirty glasses. Instead of rinsing it under water, a tongue crawled out of his hand-mouth and began licking the leftover drink. Seeing the disgust in her eyes, he quickly added "No worries. You're drinking from a glass like that and you're still fine."

"I guess..." She sighed, tracing the shape of the glass with her finger. "Thank you. How much do I pay?"

"Oh, don't even bother. That's the least I can do."

"For what...?"

Bdubs remained quiet. After thoroughly washing the glass, he wiped it clean and set it on a shelf right behind himself. Lizzie groaned quietly at his lack of answer. With each day at the motel, she was getting more and more curious about the place. It felt so unreal, but also so lively at the same time... Whenever she left someone's room, the elevator was just on the opposite wall, as if the space bent itself to its tenants' will. The glowing, golden sun and the deep purple moon illuminated the sky during day and night cycles that somewhat resembled the ones back in her home. The people she encountered came from all the different parts of the world, cultures, even time periods. And as she already managed to make friends with two members of the staff (she was sure about being friends with Mumbo, while Joel was a whole other messy story), she got curious about meeting the rest of them. Despite all the things she heard about them being so inhuman, otherworldly and uncanny, she couldn't help but see just normal people in them. Maybe a bit troubled, lost and tired, but actual people.

"Let me guess..." Bdubs finally spoke up, glancing at her from the other end of the bar. "Family problems?"

"Huh?"

"That's what brought you here, wasn't it?"

"I..." Lizzie took a deep breath, then downed the last of her drink and pushed the glass away. She expected to feel dizzy after just one drink, but as far as she could tell, she was doing just fine. "I guess you could say that. It's funny..." She chuckled bitterly. "You're taught to be a good, obedient wife all your life. You take all the yelling, the beating, the... All the shit thrown at you... You fight back once. And everything falls apart immediately."

"At least you had the strength to fight back. Not many ever get to do it, before it's too late." Bdubs hummed, then added "Did he... Do this to you?"

"Oh, no no no. I came here myself. I mean I didn’t expect to come here , but…" She chuckled bitterly, then furrowed her brows. "Wait. Why are you asking...?"

"That's what I do. I get tons of people coming here daily to tell me what they hated about their lives, and what they miss now that they're dead." He commented, focused on cleaning another glass. "Some just come here to it in silence. And that's fine, too."

"But you..." Lizzie lifted her glass and looked inside. Only then, she noticed the tiniest traces of some sort of lumpy sediment right at the bottom of her glass. She squinted, taking a closer look. “Why do you add this stuff to people’s drinks…?”

"Oh, don't worry about that!" Bdubs chuckled and patted his moss-covered shoulder. "This is just a little sprinkle to relieve the tongue and the mind. It won't hurt you, though. Not many things can, when you're already dead."

"Oh... Good." Lizzie sighed and slouched a bit, to feel a bit more comfortable. As much as that place still put her at unease, he could just tell the barman was honest. There was something sincere and sweet about the way he spoke, even if he didn't say all that much. And this moss, no matter what it actually was, probably helped prevent some bar fights in the past. "So... What about you?"

"What do you mean?" Bdubs asked. Seeing two men approach the bar, he began pouring alcohol for them, but kept his eyes on Lizzie.

"Well, you're the horseman of Famine... You probably have some stories to tell as well." She pointed out. "I'd love to hear them..."

"Oh, miss, it's not my place to whine about what used to be." He shook his head, then handed two glasses to the newcomers. A shot of vodka for a tall, white-haired, yet young looking man, and a shot of tequila for a shorter, dark-skinned man with short dreadlocks. "I'm the shoulder to cry on, not the one to cry. Besides, you don't want to hear these stories, trust me."

"Actually," The latter man spoke up, "They could be fun to listen to. This endless wisdom of the barman has to come from somewhere, dun'it?"

"Oh, shut it, Bee," Bdubs rolled his eyes. "You guys already tried to get me to spill my guts, and it ain't happening."

"Told you," The white-haired man nudged his friend's shoulder, "He's even worse than the janitor guy."

"HEY! Don't compare me to Joel, goodness' sakes..." The barman rolled his eyes. "You don't want me spittin' into your glass next time, do ya?"

"As if you don’t already do that." The man smirked, although with a mask covering his lips and nose, only his eyes gave it away. He glanced at Famine's hand-mouths, which were cleaning another glass. He then leaned back, over the shoulder of his friend, and added "See, lady? It's useless with this guy. He'd rather cut his tongue off than let anything slip."

"Etho, I swear to gods! You're always so quiet, and the one time you decide to speak, it's to sell out your best friend!" Bdubs grumbled.

"Oh, so now you do admit that you like me?"

"You... Ugh. I'll be right back."

Famine walked away and entered the kitchen. The man with the dreadlocks, the one Bdubs addressed as Bee, turned to Lizzie with a cheeky smile.

"See? You won't get anything out of him. Trust me, we tried."

"It seems like everyone here has a problem. Especially the staff." Lizzie sighed.

"They do!" The man smiled and moved to a chair closer to hers. "By the way, I'm Bee. Or Big B, as some call me. And this guy here is Etho."

"Hey." The white-haired man waved to her from afar. She repeated the gesture with a smile.

"I think I remember you guys... I've seen you at the bar a couple of times."

"Yeah, we come here almost every night," Bee confessed. "It's a cool place to get to know people."

"Not like I need to do that," Etho chuckled. 

"Yeah! Etho's the oldest tenant this place has! He's been here almost since the motel opened!"

"You still haven't received your letter?" Lizzie turned to the man in surprise. She only heard briefly about the letters, the mail day and all of that, so she wasn't yet at the place where she grasped the full gravity of his situation.

"Not yet... Unless I did, and someone just threw it out." The white-haired man admitted. "But it's fine... I like it here. Don't even know what would be waiting for me on the other side."

Lizzie nodded, her face a bit solemn. There was something... Scary about the idea of being trapped between life and death for so long. Waiting for something, and not even knowing if it's ever gonna come. Even though she hadn't yet thought about ever receiving her letter, the idea of never getting one suddenly hit her mind, and made her shiver.

"My name is Lizzie." Eventually, she spoke up with a soft smile. "And... I think we gotta get this guy to talk."

"Him?" BigB nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen, where Bdubs went. "Yeah, yeah... What's the plan?"

"I have an idea... Will you be here tomorrow evening?"

"We don't really have anywhere else to be..." Etho shrugged "Sure."

"Good. See you then." The woman smiled, then left her chair and walked away towards the doors of the cafeteria. She still wanted to get some work done before going to be... But at least she already had plans for tomorrow night.

"Are all of you horsemen so difficult?"

"Excuse me?"

Joel put down his drill and looked down at Lizzie. The woman was raking the nearest flowerbed, which at this point was completely filled with dead leaves and petals. Her comment caught him completely off guard. He agreed to come help her in the morning, when she discovered an old gazebo that was beginning to fall apart. She really believed that if Joel was to replace all the rotting planks and paint the thing, it would look good as new. She was in luck, as at this point, he found himself in no position to say no to her.

"I mean... I talked to your barman last night. Bdubs, was it? I wanted to get him to open up, to talk about what's bothering him... But he's completely closed off. Just like you."

"Listen, lady," Joel grabbed his drill again, then began removing old screws that held the roof together. It was on the brink of collapse anyway, so it'd be easier for him to just pull it apart completely and rebuild it. "You may have found a way to help Mumbo, sure. But don't forget. We are. Not. People. We don't think or act the same way you mortals do."

"Do you really?" Lizzie leaned on her rake and looked up at him. "I don't see a big difference between you and me, if I'm being honest."

"It's only because I've been working in this gods forsaken motel for centuries. Worked with countless mortals. Eventually, we just started to adapt their mannerisms, their behaviors, maybe even some of their thoughts. Sure, we might be similar on the outside, but at the core, we're nothing alike."

"But don't you think," She argued back once more "That if you've been working with mortals for so long, you do start becoming a bit like them?"

Joel clenched his hand on his drill, barely stopping himself before his markings started leaking out blood again. Usually, he loved listening to Lizzie, but this was the one part he hated - when she talked in a way that made him think. Especially when it came to thinking about things he'd rather leave in the very back of his mind. It was as if she picked up on his insecurity of being essentially split into two different people - the intimidating, fearless horseman of War, and the gruff, emotionally unavailable janitor. They were technically one, but also not the same. And with each day, he could feel the divide growing. The old him would probably tear her to shreds for daring to talk to him like that... But the new, or rather the current him felt weirdly attached to her, no matter how weird he found her. He reached out to the letter resting in the inner pocket of his vest, then sighed.

"Maybe. I dunno. Doesn't matter." He finally cut the discussion short. "If you want to get that guy to talk, go on, try. But you won't have any luck with me."

"That's fine... I'll figure it out either way." Lizzie smiled. She put the rake away, then began gently patting the naked ground on the flowerbed. Immediately, grass and small flowers began sprouting all around her. As always, it took Joel aback. It wasn't the first time he saw her do it, but it was just as breathtaking as back then, with the rose bush. "You know... You remind me of my husband."

"I do?"

"Yeah... Whenever he was nice, at least. And that didn't happen often."

"Did he... Did he hurt you...?" Joel asked quietly. Lizzie nodded her head slowly. "I- I promise. I would never let anyone hurt you."

"You mean it...?"

"Yes! You're the..." 

War suddenly went quiet. There were so many things he wanted to say at that point. He wanted to call her the kindest, sweetest, most beautiful and strongest person he had ever met. He wanted to tell her just how much he appreciated and cherished every second they already spent together, and how he wished for many seconds more. To tell her the words he never imagined himself saying to anyone. But instead, his voice stuck in his throat, suffocating him for what felt like the most painful moments in his life. As if his mind was working against him, not allowing him to say the truth. But why? Out of fear of rejection? Or out of fear of becoming something completely else, something removed from who he once was?

"Joel?"

"...yes...?"

"You're a nice guy." She chuckled and got up from her spot. "But you have the emotional maturity of a ceiling fan."

"Sh-shut up."

The woman started laughing, giving him one more of her most beautiful, brightest smiles. Joel just stared at her in awe, his fingers mindlessly fidgeting, wishing he could grab her hand and say something. But all he could do was stand there and watch.

"I'm gonna go and take care of that azalea bush over there. It's so pretty, it'd be a shame if it went to waste..." She pointed to a spot a bit away from the gazebo and sighed. "If you leave before I'm back... Can you come to the cafeteria this evening?"

"Of course, always... I-I mean, I always come there, so... Yeah."

"Thank you!" Lizzie grinned, then grabbed a pair of heavy garden scissors and disappeared between the narrow alleyways of the garden.

After stepping into the cafeteria that evening, Lizzie immediately spotted Etho and BigB. They were sitting close to each other as always, but this time, they left one free spot between each other. The woman immediately noticed it and sat right between the two. They were already a few drinks in, but seemed fairly sober when she approached them.

"So? What's the plan?" Big B whispered when Bdubs stepped away from them, to serve another customer.

"We have to convince him to make a drink for himself," she said. "Then, you need to distract him for a moment. I'll do the rest."

"What do you mean by ‘the rest’?" Etho squinted.

"I'm gonna use his own weapon against him."

"You mean the moss?" Bee chuckled. "Why haven't we tried that before?"

"Before we didn't want to risk getting bitten," The white-haired man pointed out. “I don’t trust these hands, they have too many teeth for my liking.”

"Oh. Right."

"What will it be?" Bdubs asked Lizzie as soon as he was done serving the other tenant. She shrugged.

"Surprise me," She suggested with a shy smile. "I don't have much experience with drinking..."

"Yeah, I noticed." The man nodded, then turned around to grab a clean glass. Immediately, Lizzie took the opportunity to lean over the counter and rip out a bunch of moss out of his cape. She recoiled and hid her hands the moment the barman flinched from the apparent pain.

"Ouch! What the heck?!" He turned around to the three tenants, watching them closely. "Who did that?"

"Sorry," BigB smirked, covering for Lizzie without missing a beat. "I just wanted to see whether it's real moss..."

"For your information, it is. But it’s my moss and neither of us appreciate being ripped apart." Bdubs grumbled, then began preparing the drink for Lizzie. The woman watched him vigilantly, trying to notice something that she could successfully use to deny the drink. Once the barman grabbed the bottle of pineapple tonic, the perfect idea came to her head. She looked down at the fistfull of moss in her hands, then separated a small pinch. That had to be enough, just so that he would finally speak his mind… But, would it even work on him, as one of the inhuman horsemen? Either way, she hid the rest of the strange growth in her pocket, before looking up at the finished drink. "Here, enjoy it."

"Oh, sorry, did you... Did you add pineapple to it...?"

"Uh... Yes, I did... Are you allergic?"

"Very."

"Dang it..." Bdubs sighed and grabbed the glass with the freshly made drink. He glanced at Big B and Etho. "Do any of you want it?"

"No, thanks," Big B shrugged.

"I think you should have it. As a treat." Etho suggested with a smirk. "You deserve it, dude."

"I guess... Can't have it go to waste... Hey, Joel!" Bdubs suddenly reached over the counter and waved to the janitor, who just entered the cafeteria. 

War groaned under his breath and took a seat at one of the round tables a few meters away from the bar. He immediately noticed Lizzie sitting between the two tenants, and a strange sting irked him somewhere in his chest. Why would she invite him, only to then go sit with some other people? He sighed, hoping she would notice him eventually and come join him. Walking up to her himself and asking her felt too pushy.

Right as Bdubs got distracted by Joel's arrival, Lizzie leaned over and tossed the pinch of moss into his drink. Immediately, the mossy lump dropped to the very bottom of the glass, leaving very little traces of what happened. It didn’t feel exactly right, but it was doing it for a good reason… She watched carefully as the barman poured her a fresh drink, with no pineapple this time, and grabbed his own glass.

"Strange to see the barman himself having a drink for once..." Etho commented quietly.

"Hey! You suggested it!" Bdubs retorted, and Lizzie nudged Etho's shoulder to make him stay quiet. She sighed with relief as soon as Famine took a sip of his drink. "Can't even enjoy a drink in my own domain..."

"Well... Drinks are usually for the talkers." BigB pointed out. "And you never talk about yourself. You only ever ask others questions. Like an interrogation."

"It's not like that at all!" The barman grunted. "You think I have anything to speak about?"

"Don't you?"

Other people sitting at the bar turned their heads in Bdubs' direction. It was rare to see him with so much energy. Unless he was pulling apart fighting drunks. 

"I told you, it's not my place to air my grievances." Famine growled, drinking the rest of his drink. "You guys have no idea what a man like me sees throughout his life..."

"We don't...?"

"No, you don't!" He yelled back. "Have you ever seen a person die of hunger? Especially knowing that you caused it to happen?" Bdubs grabbed his glass and began cleaning it. "When you're starving, everything else about you stops mattering. What you like and you don't like, what you dream about, what you fear. The most important thing is survival." He took a deep breath. "I don't have the right to speak, when there were so many people who couldn't speak because of me. So this is my attempt to fix that. To allow people to speak and be listened to, and be granted whatever they need to feel full. And maybe one day, that will be enough to make up for all the pain I gave to all these..."

All of a sudden, Bdubs went quiet, a grimace twisting his face. He looked down upon his hand-mouth, its tongue covered in the strange, greenish sediment. It took him a second to figure out what just happened, and immediately, he dropped the glass and covered his mouth. The glass fell to the ground, shattering with a loud bang.

"You!" He immediately turned to Lizzie. "You did that, didn't you?!"

"I did." She confirmed, raising her head high. Her tone was serious, but soft. "See? You said it, and you're fine. Was it that bad?"

"I... I..." Bdubs slowly pulled his hands away from his mouth. "I did. And I'm fine. I guess."

"Sorry I had to do it like that..." Lizzie whispered, the boldness of her actions only now hitting her at full force. "If you want me to leave and never come back... It's fine."

Bdubs looked at her for a second. He could tell that she wanted well. Heck, she used his own weapon against himself... And as much as he hated to admit it, it felt good to finally say it. To confess why he kept his own mouth at bay for so long. Even if so many people heard him spill his guts. Maybe it wasn't the end of the world after all? Maybe he did deserve to voice his insecurities every now and then?

"You don't have to leave. But... You did cause me to break a glass, you know."

"I'll clean up." She offered with a shy smile and left her chair. Bdubs led her behind the counter and handed her the broom to clean up the broken glass.

"Wow..." Joel whispered, looking in the direction of the bar. He didn't expect her to act so bold when it came to wanting to help one of the horsemen... And now, he was most likely next. He shivered, his hand resting upon the letter in his pocket for just a moment. What if she tried the same trick on him, and that would get him to reveal the truth...?

"Sorry it took so long." War flinched the moment Lizzie appeared right over his shoulder. She sat on the opposite side of the table. "Had to... Talk to your barman."

"Yeah. I heard." Joel hummed. "You... You know your way around people. And non-people."

"I just gave him what he gave me. A chance to speak. And, see? It didn't kill him. It wouldn't kill you, either."

"Very funny." He sighed, then got up from his spot. "You want a drink?"

"No, thanks... I've had enough for tonight. But go and grab something for yourself, I'll wait here."

"Thanks, lady."

Joel turned away from the table and approached the bar. It was strange, seeing Bdubs talking so lively with all of the residents... For just a second their eyes met, and Bdubs sent him a shy smile. As if he wanted to say 'See? It wasn't that bad after all'. War sighed, resting his hands on the counter. That woman was getting a bit too close to all the personal matters of the horsemen... And that was beginning to make him more afraid than he ever expected.

Chapter Text

Joel knocked on the door to Pearl's office, anxiously awaiting for her to let him in. It wasn't often that she called any of the horsemen in such an official manner. Out of the whole staff, she was usually the most illusive, working behind closed doors and making the backend of the motel work pretty smoothly. Whenever Joel did go out to find her to talk about something, he usually arrived right in the middle of some sort of business meeting with any of the psychopomps or other deities of death. But this time, she called him for a one on one meeting, so it had to be something important.

Eventually, he pushed the door open and entered her office. The room was dark, with heavy curtains covering the windows. The walls were a deep blue, with an intricate map of the night sky painted all over. Crystals, bones and metallic ornaments hung from the ceiling. Pearl was sitting behind her big desk with a large, white wolf laid across her lap. She scratched the animal under its chin. The incarnation of Death resembled her pet in more ways than one - she also had a pair of white, fluffy dog ears and a slowly swaying tail, and both of them had skeleton-like markings on their bodies. The woman looked up at him, her deep, blue eyes shining in the gentle candlelight.

"There you are," She spoke softly. "Come here. I need to ask you something."

"What is it? I'm busy." Joel grunted. It was in his best interest to hide his stress about the sudden meeting. Sure, she was a friend, and at least in theory all of the horsemen were equals - but even before the motel started, Pearl was the closest to being the team leader. She was one of the many deities of Death, although she was the only one working in a specific group such as the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. So right now, their relationship was more along the line of boss-employee. Even though she couldn't fire him or threaten him in any way like that.

"I can imagine." Pearl smirked, moving her hands to scratch the wolf behind the ears. "You know, I was looking out the window today, and saw someone leaving your storeroom... But that wasn't you."

Joel shivered at the realization. It had to be Lizzie. He told her to be careful... Although, she probably had no idea where Pearl's office was, and that she could be seen from that place. War looked up at his friend, trying to guess what she thought off her face. He wasn't the best at reading people, but from what he could tell, she didn't seem angry. More so... Surprised. Maybe even concerned. And if he played his cards right, he could explain himself in a way that wouldn't sound suspicious.

"Oh, right, yeah..." He nodded, leaning back into his deep armchair. "That's Elisabeth. She arrived here like, two weeks ago." Joel purposefully avoided using the shortened version of her nickname. Sure, the current running version was that they had no Lizzie in the motel that the letter belonged to, and even if they did, Mumbo had 'lost' the letter... But he still wanted to play it safe, and not cast any suspicion on either of them. "She was interested in cleaning the garden... I know it's my job, but she pestered me about it for days, so... I gave her spare keys to the storeroom. Just so that she can get to the tools."

"Mhm..." Pearl hummed in response, then tilted her head towards the window behind her. "Have you seen how the garden looks now?"

"I... Uh..." He scrunched his nose. What did that question even mean? "I haven't paid much attention...?"

"Go look outside."

Reluctantly, Joel rose from the armchair and approached the window, then pulled the curtains aside. Most of the garden was still dead and decaying, but a serious chunk of it looked fresh and alive. Wherever Lizzie used her talented hands, flowers bloomed in all colors of the rainbows, leaves poured over the flowerbeds, even trees looked as if they came back to life. She was close to restoring half of the area back to life. The man gasped quietly. She really was hard at work, and he hadn't even noticed the extent of her work until now, when he could look at the garden from all the way up on the ninth floor.

"Woah..."

"Impressive, innit?" Pearl smiled. "But that's the point... That Shady Lady only moved in two weeks ago. I can't imagine the garden becoming so alive in two months, let alone two weeks... It's almost as if she can do more than the normal mortals."

"Maybe she can?" Joel pulled the curtains closed once again. Sure, he already knew about Lizzie's strange abilities, but he was just as clueless as Pearl as to where they came from. And that actually helped him play dumb in such a stressful situation. He turned to Death, not sure how he should act in the light of Pearl discovering this strange quirk of Lizzie's. "We haven't had anyone like that here, have we?"

"We haven't... Unless we did, and we somehow missed it... But it's hard to believe, isn't it?" Pearl gently moved from under the wolf in her lap, then got up from her spot, towering over her friend. Joel rolled his eyes. It was annoying to be reminded how he was the second shortest horseman, with only Bdubs being under him. "Have you been talking to that girl?"

"A little... Not much... Why?" He asked. Luckily, Pearl didn't catch onto the obvious lie. If she left her office just a bit more often, she'd quickly figure out that the truth was actually quite the opposite.

"Keep an eye on that Shady Lady, just in case. I'll ask about her when I go collect the letters for the next mail day. Maybe any of the other psychopomps know what's up with that."

"Do you think she's... Not human?" Joel turned to her.

"Maybe? But what else could she be?" Pearl turned around and began pacing the room. "A nymph? A fallen goddess? A demon? All I know is that she's one Shady Lady."

"Don't call her that. Her name is Elisabeth."

"I'll ask the others whether she slipped any of the other pantheons. Either way, the less attention she attracts to herself, the better. It's a good thing she hasn't got her letter yet, so that she won't slip us anytime soon..."

"Yeah... Good point." After making sure that Pearl wasn't looking his way, he briefly touched the hidden pocket in his vest. So maybe he wasn't doing a bad thing by withdrawing the letter from her? Maybe, subconsciously, he did the right thing for once? "I'll keep an eye on her. I promise. It's not like I have a bajillion other things to do." He added a bit gruffly, to which Pearl chuckled. 

"I know you do... Come on now, shoo. You probably have some toilets to fix, don'tcha?"

"I do, in fact." Joel groaned, then turned around and headed towards the door. In a way that Pearl couldn't notice, he reached out to the hidden pocket and pulled his finger against the envelope. Yes, he had to be doing the right thing. Even if he's never done it before in his life, this time, he had to. Otherwise, it wouldn't feel so worth it to do so.

Right after leaving Pearl's office and silently closing the door, Joel rested his back against the wall and sighed. There was no quieter place in the motel than the ninth floor. It was almost completely empty, as it was the place for people who have caused the most harm throughout their lives. These people often came and were either swiftly banished, or received their letters quickly. To some degree, maybe it was a bit unfair. The worst people in existence got their justice, however grim it might be, sooner than people who had little to no faults, and had to spend ages waiting for their letters to be delivered. That meant the motel was a relatively safe place for them, but what with people who got tired of waiting for so long? Why couldn't they get their fate delivered to them to-

"Hi Joel!" 

War jumped from surprise and almost fell to the ground. Only then, he noticed Lizzie emerging from the stairs leading up to the floor. After all, the elevator didn't go all the way up to the ninth floor - whoever dared to come here had to ride to the previous floor, and climb the last flight of stairs.

"Lizzie!" He whispered sharply and approached her in a hurried manner. "What are you doing here?"

"You agreed to come help me and fix the fountain, remember?" She crossed her arms. "I was waiting for you... Then I asked Mumbo where you were, and he said that the Death Lady asked to see you. I mean, he didn't call her that."

"Yes, yes, Pearl did call me... Come on now, we gotta go." He put his hand on Lizzie's shoulder and guided her down the stairs once more. "But still, you shouldn't have come here... This floor isn't safe."

"Come on, what could happen to me? I'm already dead, remember?"

"Yes, yes, but..." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "Nevermind. I forgot that you always go wherever you want."

"See? You get it!" Lizzie smiled, moving a bit closer to him. "Why did she call you anyway?"

"She, uh..." Joel went silent. What was he supposed to say to not dig himself into an even deeper hole? Should he lie about their whole conversation? Only part of it? Maybe he should omit the whole discussion and call it a workplace secret or some sort of other fancy bullshit? "We, um, just... Talked about work. And, uh... She noticed that you got my keys to the storeroom. And called you a Shady Lady."

"You're not in any trouble for that, are you...?" She asked carefully. 

"No, no, not at all! She just... Wanted to make sure I knew. That, you know, nobody stole my keys, and all that."

"Oh!" Immediately, worry vanished from Lizzie's face and got replaced by her bright smile. "That's good! I was just trying to help with the garden..."

"I know you did."

Once they entered the elevator, uncomfortable silence settled between them. Joel really wanted to continue chatting - or rather, for her to continue talking. He found himself craving her voice, her laughter, her smile... Maybe even something more, but at that point, he was too embarrassed to admit it. So instead he just stood there, a foot or so away from her, unsure whether he should start another conversation, or just let the silence linger.

"Joel?"

"Yes?"

"Are you okay? You seem... Tense."

"Me? Tense? Pfff... What the heck are you talking about?"

Lizzie pointed to his hands. Indeed, the red markings from his elbows down began dripping blood once more. Joel cursed under his breath and began wiping them clean, to Lizzie's amusement. They usually began leaking whenever he was angry... But this was the first time when he lost control out of... What even was it? Fear? Embarrassment? Shame? 

"Sorry, sorry..." He sighed. "I know, it's probably pretty gross..."

"It's not..." Lizzie shook her head, then reached out and grabbed him by the hand. "See? I'm not afraid of a little bit of blood."

She most likely continued talking, but at that point, Joel couldn't hear her. His head filled with static, his vision went blurry and his hand felt as if it was burning and freezing at the same moment. She just... She just held his hand. Just like that. And that was completely normal to her. Her, a normal human (or at least that's what they all assumed she was, so far), holding the hand of the literal personification of War. Not only that, she initiated the gesture, and seemed completely normal about it. Joel only wished he could be normal about that as well. But to him, it was the most revolutionary feeling ever since the invention of the atomic bomb. Although this left an even bigger impression on him. 

"Joel? I know I asked already, but... Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes. Absolutely. Fantastic. Lovely-jubbly."

"That's good!" Lizzie chuckled, before letting go of his hand and leaving the elevator on the first floor. Joel sighed involuntarily, before following her into the garden once more.

"Are you sure we can even do it?" Joel asked her when both of them passed by the newly renovated alleyways of the garden. "This fountain has not been running since the French revolution. Maybe even earlier."

"Come on, Joel," Lizzie turned around and continued to talk to him while walking backwards. "You're the literal horseman of War. Spreader of death and misery. And you'll really let a fountain defeat you?"

"It's not that simple..." He sighed, but a bit of fondness crept into his voice. "Believe me, sometimes I wish I was back on the battlefield. Especially when I have to fix broken toilets, or mop the floors of the whole motel."

"Not as thrilling as riding into battle on the front line, is it?" She smirked, then reached out and booped his nose. Every day she was a bit more bold, and every day Joel was beginning to mind it less and less.

"No... Not at all."

Lizzie opened her mouth, but suddenly stopped and turned around. The usually quiet garden was all of a sudden bustling with sounds, coming from the newly renovated gazebo. Quickly, she noticed someone climbing on the railing, then jumping down with a not very serious sounding battle cry. Another person followed right behind them. Lizzie's eyes lit up, while Joel groaned in frustration.

"Who's breaking our gazebo? We just fixed it!"

"They're probably not breaking it! Come on, we gotta go see what they're doing!" Lizzie grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him towards the little wooden building.

Quickly, they noticed three people, wrestling on the luscious green grass growing around the alcove. Two of them were stuck in a direct, hand-to-hand combat, while the other was aiming at them with some sort of weapon. Upon firing, it exploded into what seemed like fireworks, but miraculously didn't burn anything or anyone upon hitting the gazebo.

"Hey!" Joel yelled in the direction of the fighting people. "Stop it!"

Immediately, all three of them turned in their direction. Lizzie quickly recognized one of the fighting people - that was Etho, the white-haired man she met at the bar. He was fighting against a woman she didn't know. Her curly, ginger hair were tied into a loose braid, and her outfit and jewellery brought to mind lively sea harbors. The third man, holding what seemed to be a crossbow, was a bit shorter and stoutier than his friends, with dark hair and glasses hiding his eyes. A long labcoat, full of colorful stains, made him look a bit less serious than he would otherwise with a weapon. And only then, Lizzie noticed the other two people were also armed. The ginger lady was tightly gripping a long trident, which was locked in a death grip with Etho's... Fishing rod? Interesting choice of weapon, that's for sure.

"Oh, hi Lizzie!" Etho waved to his friend, which caused the ginger woman to push him to the ground and put the weapon up to his throat.

"Gotcha!" She smirked. "Alright, the round's over. I guess we have to deal with an audience now."

"What are you twats doing here?" Joel grumbled in their direction. "This gazebo was just fixed, and you're already ruining it!"

"It's gonna be fine," The dark-haired man with the crossbow shrugged. "The dye in these fireworks washes off easily. Just wait for the rain."

"What were you guys doing? Looks like fun!" Lizzie let go of Joel's hand and approached the group.

"Training together!" The ginger lady spoke up with a big, proud smile. "We usually do it in the gym, but since the garden looks so much better now, and the weather is nice..."

"The gym?! That place's closed down! You can't go there, you idiots!" Joel shouted at them, but calmed down as soon as Lizzie turned to him and started speaking again.

"Come on, Joel...If the gym is closed, where else are they supposed to meet up?" She pleaded to the man, until he finally unclenched his fists and turned around, as if turning a blind eye on their meeting. The woman then looked back at the lady with the trident. "It's nice to meet you! I'm Lizzie!"

"I'm Gem," She replied, the same cheeky smile brightening her face. "This is Cub, and... I assume you know Etho already?"

"I do. Met him at the bar."

"Sounds about right," the man, who was supposedly named Cub, commented with a smirk.

"Would you like to join our club, Lizzie?" Gem suggested, stepping away from Etho and leaning against the gazebo. Lizzie's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Really? What do you guys do in the club?"

"Well, we fight! Which is why we call it the Fight Club! Rule number one: we don't talk about the Fight Club."

"Fight Club?" Lizzie gasped, but then her smile faltered. "But... I don't know how to fight..."

"That's fine, we're all here to learn." Cub said, approaching Etho and helping him get up.

"Yep! You don't have to know how to fight to join, you need to follow our two rules!"

"And what's the second rule?"

"Don't talk about the Fight Club!"

"And the second one...?"

"Yeah, that’s the second one! So what? Are you in?"

Lizzie let out a hearty laugh at the slightly confusing, but ultimately nice conversation. In all her previous encounters with other tenants, she felt like she forced her way into other people's spaces, even if they turned out to be friendly by the end... But this time, she was actually invited into their little group. And that made her heart flutter like never before. She never had a group of friends, at least not since graduating. And that was a while ago. And now, she finally had a chance to join a group of friends and have fun together…

"I'd love to join!" She exclaimed, then turned to War. "Joel, you want to join too?"

"Who? Me?"

"Having the horseman of War himself in our club...?" Cub smirked, his green eyes shining playfully from behind his glasses. "That'd be a nice catch..."

"Don't talk to me like that." Joel grumbled, but then added in a bit less serious tone "I don't know if that's a good idea... For your sakes, not mine, of course. I mean, I'd kick your asses if I joined."

"That's settled, then?" Lizzie asked, turning back to Gem. "We're both joining!"

"Hey, I didn't-"

"Perfect!" Gem grinned, then jumped over the railing and approached Lizzie. "Now, can I talk to you for a moment? Away from the guys."

"Yeah, yeah, of course." The pink-haired woman nodded with excitement, then turned to Joel. "I'll be right back, alright?"

"Yeah... No worries, I'll wait right here. With... With them." He added a bit more grumpily, glancing at Cub and Etho.

Gem put her arm over Lizzie's shoulder and led her away from the gazebo. The woman with a trident was just a little bit taller than her, and she smelled of saline. For some reason, Lizzie immediately felt safe in her company. In a similar manner to how she felt safe in Joel's company - although Gem definitely wasn't the personification of any force strong enough to plunge civilizations into chaos. She just looked like a strong, competent girl, and Lizzie really liked that.

"That War guy... He likes you, doesn't he?" Gem asked eventually.

"Joel? Well, I guess... I don't know if I can call him a friend yet, but... Wait, why are you asking?"

"Since you got him to join our club... You might be just what I need." The woman with the trident patted her on the shoulder. "I have my eyes on a bigger fish than you and him... No offense. I mean, it's awesome that you guys joined."

"None taken. Who are you thinking about? Mumbo? Bdubs?"

"Close... I wanted to invite Lady Death herself to our little club."

"Pearl?" Lizzie turned to her, not hiding the shock on her face.

"You've met her?"

"No, no, not directly, but... Are you sure?"

"Come on! Who's going to be a better sparring partner than the incarnation of Death? It'd be awesome to get her to join!" She spoke with so much energy and conviction, her plan almost didn't sound crazy.

"Wait, but why do you need me out of everyone to ask her?"

"You already wrapped one of the horsemen around your finger..." Gem teased her. "But she's... Weird. I talked to her once. I told her my name, but she just kept referring to me as 'Fish Lady'."

"Well, she apparently called me 'Shady Lady' when talking to Joel..."

"Hey, that one’s pretty good." Gem snickered and patted her on the back. "Listen... Next week, there's a Halloween party in the cafeteria. Me and the boys are planning to go there already. If she happened to come, and we both got to talk to her, and convince her to join... What do you think?"

"Why not..." Lizzie shrugged. "I'll try to help however I can."

"That's the spirit! Thanks!" Gem smirked and patted her back once more, this time with a bit more force. She then added a bit more quietly, as if out of fear of someone eavesdropping "Hey... And if that guy starts being weird about you... Let me know. I'll kick his ass for ya."

"You'll kick ass of the literal incarnation of War... For me?" The pink-haired woman giggled, unable to believe Gem for a moment.

"Yeah! Us girls gotta stick together, right?" She asked, offering a fistbump to Lizzie. The woman glanced down at her hand, with more excitement and warmth filling her chest than she expected. She couldn't remember the last time someone offered her friendship like that. In such a solidary, caring manner... Lizzie nodded excitedly and fistbumped her right away.

"We do," She agreed, then turned away. "I gotta go, we're restoring the garden together..."

"Oh, so it was you who did all this work? You really are amazing, girl." Gem smiled and ruffled her hair in a loving gesture. "If you need any extra pairs of hands, let me know, alright? Any excuse to drag Cub and Etho out of the bar is a good one."

"I will. Thanks, Gem."

"Take care, Lizzie."

After letting go of her newfound friend, Lizzie walked down the alleyway in the direction where she left Joel. It was a nice sight, to see him actually talk to Cub and Etho and not seem like he absolutely hated him. However, the moment War spotted her, he went quiet and stepped away from the conversation.

"It was, um..." He cleared his throat. " 'Twas nice talking to you, fellas."

"See you around, War incarnate." Etho winked at him, before both of the Fight Club members turned around to go and join Gem. 

Lizzie once again grabbed Joel's hand, yet his reaction wasn't as extreme as the last time. Still, she noticed the blush that appeared on his face.

"Joel?" She asked. "What's the deal with Pearl?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well... Mumbo was a mess that thought he couldn't be helped. Bdubs refused to open up about what's bothering him. You're emotionally constipated."

"Hey! I'm not-"

"And what's up with the horseman of Death? I've never even seen her around the motel... And Gem mentioned how she calls everyone names... Why is that?"

"I..." Joel sighed. He wanted to tell her all that he noticed throughout the years, even with how bad he was with reading people. Still, he understood where Pearl came from. As the incarnation of Death, she met so many people, only to have to let them go... No wonder she had issues getting attached. She definitely wasn’t the only one. Sometimes, it felt as if she never even saw the tenants of the motel as real people, so that she wouldn't get used to them and then hurt whenever they left. Joel could only be grateful she didn't introduce the same policy when it came to her fellow horsemen. But telling Lizzie all of that seemed a little too... Vulnerable. Instead, he just shook his head. "I guess you need to ask her herself." He joked.

"You know what? I probably should."

"You... You're impossible." He couldn't hold back a soft chuckle.

"Thank you!" Lizzie giggled, then dragged him along the alleyway towards the fountain. "Come on, come on! The sooner we get there, the sooner we'll be done!"

"But you stopped us to talk to the-" Joel tried to argue back. Eventually, he just sighed as she let go of his hand and ran down the alley like an excited child in the park. Sure that she wasn’t looking in his direction, he let a big smile brighten his face. And for some reason, it felt really good to do so. "You... You're incredible." He whispered, before following right in her footsteps.

Chapter Text

Four cups of coffee landed on the table in the living room with a quiet clang. Mumbo and Pearl immediately reached out to grab theirs. Every now and then, they found some spare time to enjoy a moment of silence and borderline relaxation before work, and they cherished every occasion like that. Bdubs took a seat right next to them and immediately began adding sugar and milk to his drink.

"At this point it's not even coffee," Mumbo pointed out, after Bdubs added the tenth teaspoon of sugar into his cup. “You added so much sugar, it would probably put a human into a coma.”

"Hey, I like it that way." Bdubs grumbled in response, but there was no real bite behind his words. "I made it to match me."

"So you make it so sweet that your teeth hurt?" Pearl teased him, to which Bdubs replied with a big, cheeky grin.

"You get it!"

"Guess that explains why I like my coffee black. Like my soul." Death incarnate smirked, then started laughing when Mumbo slid the sugarbowl away from Bdubs and in her direction. "Hey! That was not as smooth as you might think!"

"I think it was pretty smooth!" Mumbo retorted with an amused chuckle. All three of them then turned around and glanced at the closed door to Joel's room. "How is this guy still asleep? We should be heading off soon…"

"Wake up, you jerk!" Bdubs approached the door and knocked on them loudly. Even after waiting for a while, they received no response. "What's up with that guy? Is he dead?"

"I wish," Pearl rolled her eyes. "Besides, I would've felt if he was."

"We can't really die, can we?" Mumbo asked hesitantly, making it sound like he didn't know something that should be obvious to all of them. In return, Death just smiled.

"No, Mumbo. Not exactly."

"If you don't bring your butt over here, mister, I'll drink your coffee!" The other two horsemen couldn't hold back laughter when Bdubs threatened Joel through the door again. "Or even better! You like your coffee black, don'tcha? I'm gonna add you all the sugar we have if you don't come here right now!"

"I mean, he's been acting strange lately..." Pestilence hummed, seemingly deep in thought about the situation.

"What do you mean?" Pearl asked, turning in his direction as she took a sip of her coffee. 

"He's been less... Bitey, I guess. He stopped screaming at me every time he sees me..."

"Is he sick?" Death tilted her head to the side, her wolf-like ears flopping to the side.

"Worse," Bdubs commented in a grim tone. "He's seeing someone."

"What?" She almost choked on her coffee and immediately turned to Bdubs. "No way... Joel? The same guy who'd banish someone just for looking at him wrong? Seeing someone?"

"I mean, looks like that's it." One last time, Bdubs knocked on the door, before putting his hand on the doorknob. "Time's up! I'm going in, you-"

"Hey guys!"

All of a sudden, the door to their apartment opened and Joel entered the living room. All of the horsemen turned to him in surprise. He looked like a mess, covered in dirt, sweaty and with his hair let down and in complete disarray. But that wasn't the strangest thing... He was smiling. And not in his typical snarky way. He was actually smiling, as if someone just told him a good joke, or as if he just got a promotion.

"Joel...?" Mumbo asked in disbelief, then turned in the direction of War's room. "Wait, you weren't in your room?"

"No?" The man opened his arms and chuckled. "I just got back from work."

"You pulled an all-nighter?" Pearl squinted. "That's unlike you..." 

"I have my reasons." Joel's smile faded a bit. He grabbed his cup of coffee and immediately downed his drink. "What? You suddenly mind that I'm actually doing my work?"

"We do mind that you're acting weird," Bdubs pointed out. "You're hiding something."

"What do you mean?" War's pleasant attitude disappeared immediately and he groaned in frustration, slamming his cup against the table. "I was in a good mood and wanted to do a bit of work outside! And all I hear from you are complaints! What the heck is your deal, guys?"

"We're just... Looking out for you," Pearl put her cup away and looked him straight in the eye. There had to be something that she could notice, something that was wrong, something that she could pinpoint and ask him about... But if they asked even more questions, he'd just get more and more upset. They had to get him to start talking. "You know, if you want to talk, we're here for you..."

"Maybe I wanted to. But you guys ruined that." Joel groaned, before shoving Bdubs aside and walking into his room.

Right after shutting his door, Joel pushed his back against it and sighed. It was a long night for him, and he was only now feeling the effects. Last afternoon, he asked Lizzie to come with him to the garden the next day. He made it seem like it was just to plant new flowers around the freshly repaired fountain. In reality, Joel already did that during the night - and when they met up, he planned to surprise her with a little picnic. Now, he had only two or so hours left before their meeting, and all he wanted to do was hit the bed. Instead, he had to take a shower, maybe eat something, prepare the picnic and-

"There you are. The one time I need to talk to you, and you vanish into thin air..."

Joel immediately opened his eyes, his fists clenching instinctively. Someone was with him in the room, someone he hadn't noticed at all until now. Soon, he was wondering how that happened, since the moment he looked up, he saw a familiar figure sitting on his bed.

The man's red, glowing eyes stared down at Joel with cold curiosity. His whole body, wherever it wasn't shielded by a heavy set of dark armor, was covered in bright scars, on top of face marking resembling human skull - a bit similar to Pearl's marks. He was nonchalantly playing with a large sword with a curved blade, while his singular, feathered wing opened wide to hide the tiniest bit of light peeking through the curtains. Joel straightened his back, looking straight at the psychopomp.

"Decar."

"Nice to see you too, lil' general." The man grinned and got up from his spot. He was just a bit taller than Joel, yet the aura of dread and uneasiness that surrounded him was much greater than that of the horseman turned janitor. "Haven't seen you in a while. When was the last time? Back during that whole pandemic thing?"

"What do you want from me?" Joel grumbled. "Do the others know you're here?"

"They don't. And I don't think you want them to know." Decar took his eyes off Joel and went back to playing with his blade. He carried it with such ease, it seemed as if the weapon was made out of styrofoam. "So they won't hear us here. Unless you don't want to play fair." He commented, then gestured to a beanbag tossed right next to the bed. Reluctantly, Joel took the designated seat, while still looking up at the man.

The sight of a psychopomp was not a rare one in the motel, especially not to the staff. These strange, god-adjacent or straight up godly creatures dedicated their whole existences to leading souls into their afterlife - so of course they'd often pass by Morgue Mound Motel. The horsemen were similar to psychopomps, but their role was not exactly the same - the four of them were more like a league of their own, separate from everything, and only answering to each other and to the Council. Joel got to meet all of the psychopomps, some better than others. For such a specific common goal, they were a very varied bunch, separated by the beliefs they responded to, their motivations, personality and attributes. The horseman of War and Decar, who specifically cared for people who were murdered, often worked together in the past. Still, it wasn't common for even someone like him to appear unannounced, and especially keep their visit a secret.

After a long moment of uncomfortable silence Decar put his sword aside, crossed his legs, then turned to Joel.

"I know what you're doing, friend."

"Maybe a bit clearer?" Joel grunted and crossed his arms, sinking deeper into the beanbag.

"I think you know what I mean." The psychopomp commented, his hand reaching to a specific spot on his chest. Unsure what that meant, Joel repeated the gesture. As he came upon the hidden pocket of his vest, he quickly pulled away, much to Decar's unbridled joy. "See? What a smart boy you are, lil' general!"

"It's not that big of a deal. We got a letter that didn't seem to be addressed to anyone. Nobody came to pick it up, so Pearl was going to ask-"

"Oh, I think someone did come to pick it up. You know that, and so do I." Decar leaned forward, his vigilant eyes watching every move of Joel's. "Is there another reason why you don't want to give it up?"

"Even if there is, that's none of your business." 

"It is, if you're breaking the rules. This whole system only works if everyone is doing their part, and following the rules. You want to destroy all of that?" Despite the weight behind his words, Decar was still smiling. It was a deeply uncomfortable smile, one that made Joel feel as if the whole Council was looking at him. 

"I- I didn't have time to make sure it's really for her. I carry it with me just so that Mumbo doesn't lose it again."

"Good point." Decar finally looked away, tapping his cheek with his finger. There was something so nonchalant about the way he spoke and presented himself. Something that made Joel feel like he was a kid, getting scolded by his somewhat estranged father. Although, as far as Joel could tell, psychopomps and horsemen were equal when it came to their rank. "If that was the true reason… We both know it ain’t. You really don't want help that badly?"

"You're not helping. You just came to be annoying. And stop smiling like that, blummin' heck!" He let out a half-hearted yell, before turning to the door. There was no reaction from the other horsemen. Maybe they really didn't hear them?

"You're right. I'm not here to help." Decar moved a bit closer to him, his heavy armor clanging with each movement. It left a sizable portion of his body exposed, since it didn't cover his arms or his head, but that was still enough to appear threatening. Back in Joel's heyday, they often sparred together, and even back then defeating him was not an easy feat. Now, he would probably get beaten to pulp by this psychopomp of intentional death. "I'm here to ask you, when you're gonna start doing your job."

"I'll tell her when the time is right."

"And when will that be?"

"I don't know!" Joel shouted once more, markings on his hands beginning to drip blood once more. He took a deep breath before continuing to speak again. "I... I'll figure it out."

"As you should. And if you won't..." Decar squinted, giving him one more of his grim smiles. "I'll do it myself."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I? You better get this sorted out before I come here the next time." The psychopomp got up from the bed, then began stretching his arm and wing. "You have some party upcoming maybe, so that I can pop by?"

"No," Joel answered with a swift lie.

He could only hope. Hope that Decar didn't know about the upcoming Halloween party. Or that he would get too busy and wouldn't come. But he couldn't just drag this on forever... Eventually, he would have to come. War incarnate gritted his teeth.

"I'll figure it out. Now go. I'm busy."

"I can tell... Enjoy your little date, then." Decar smirked. In a matter of seconds, he enveloped himself in his wing, after which he vanished.

Joel groaned with frustration and fell back into his bean bag. As if he wasn’t tired after pulling an all-nighter, now he was absolutely exhausted. Sure, his friends didn't know the truth just yet, but now the letter was like a ticking time bomb. He'd have to do something about it eventually, and no option felt good. If he continued to keep it away, they would have to learn eventually, and he'd face consequences for breaking the rules. If he gave it to her like he should've from the beginning, she would be gone in a matter of days. And he would never see her again. When internally weighing it against the possible punishment from the Council, both fates seemed as terrible.

Eventually, Joel got up from his spot. He wasted so much time speaking with Decar, his meeting with Lizzie was approaching sooner than he would've wanted. And there was still much to be done before he had to go get Lizzie. He could only hope things would go smoothly from there.

"You really should join the board games club! I hung out with these guys last night, it was great!"

"I'll... Think about it. Don't want to get too competitive and ruin everyone's fun."

"It's gonna be fine! We'll keep Monopoly and Uno away until we deem it safe for you." Lizzie grinned and booped Joel's nose. The man frowned a bit in response, but his expression quickly faded into a more relaxed one. He already got used to how touchy she was, and with each day, he was minding it less and less. His reaction to her holding his hand were almost normal by now. "You gotta loosen up a bit, meet people!"

"It's hard to meet people when they can leave any day."

"Well, there are quite a lot of people in that club... So even if someone leaves, you'll still have more people to hang out with!" She immediately retorted. How did she always manage to stay so positive? Joel smiled under his breath and squished her hand a little bit. "So, what do we have to do today? We gotta plant all the peonies and the tulips, and then-"

"Actually, I had something... Different in mind."

Joel timed his comment perfectly as they approached a little clearing around the newly restored fountain. It was still quite dirty and overgrown, but at least the mechanism was fixed, with a little statue in the middle, depicting four horses, spilling the water in four directions. Right under the fountain, a small picnic area awaited them. Joel took an old, but somewhat clean blanket from his room and put it on the grass, leaving there all the snacks he could find in the horsemen's pantry. There were a few packs of cookies, some crackers, fruits, and a big bottle of sparkling juice. He's never really been on a real picnic before, but from what he figured out, he wasn’t all that far away from what it actually looked like. He turned to Lizzie, awaiting her comment about the surprise. The pleasant, warm pride was already beginning to spread throughout his chest.

"Woah... Joel... This is..."

"Pretty impressive, huh?" Joel smirked, crossing his arms. It's been a while since he felt justified to glaze his own work like that, and it felt good to do so. "I finished our work early so that I could do this for you!"

"When have you finished planting the flowers?"

"Over the night, actually!"

"You haven't slept at all?" Lizzie turned to him and grabbed him by the arms. War looked down at her, a bit taken aback by her reaction.

"I mean... No, but... I'm not a mortal, I don't really need sleep-"

"Just because you don’t have to, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t! Come here." She grabbed him by the hands once more and sat down on the blanket with him. "Sleeping really helps. It gives you a break, clears your mind… And I don’t want you to pull all-nighters. You deserve to have a full night's sleep, you know?"

"I... Um..." Joel shivered as he felt the blush creeping up his cheeks. He wasn't feeling bad, maybe a little worn down after an intense night of work, and an even more intense conversation in the morning... But the fact that she was looking out for him like that made his chest sting once again. And this time, he could more easily feel where that feeling was exactly placed. Somewhere close to his heart. "You're... So sweet..."

"And you're dumb." Lizzie answered with a smirk, ruffling Joel's hair.

"Hah! You've got some guts to call the horseman of War that."

"I guess I do." She shrugged, then reached into the bag where Joel left a plate and glass for each of them. Then, she began fiddling with the juice bottle. "But you're not denying that, are you?"

"I'm not."

"Good." The woman smiled and leaned against him. Once the bottle popped open, she poured the drink into both glasses and handed one to Joel.

She watched closely as Joel took a sip of his drink. She was still carrying a bunch of moss in her pocket - the same moss that she took from Bdubs, that aided in getting him to open up. Even since she saw how well it worked, she's been considering using it on Joel to finally learn a bit more about him. Sure, that would mean tricking him into doing something he probably didn't want to do... But if she decided to just wait until his walls finally crumbled, she'd have to stay at the motel for the next century, at the very least. She carried the moss on her just in case, hoping it would help her one day. And this time, it really felt as if the occasion just presented itself.

"Have you ever been on a picnic like that?" Joel eventually asked, opening one of the cookie packs and putting it back on the blanket. 

"No. Definitely not on a picnic like that ." She replied jokingly, but then added "Or on any picnic... The last time I was on a date was before I even got married."

"Hey, it's not a d-" War quickly bit his tongue, to stop himself from ruining the moment. Of course it wasn't a date. She was just making a comparison. And she clearly needed it, as her voice turned quieter and solemn, just like it did every time she talked about her life before coming to the motel. Especially when it was something about her marriage. "I mean... Your husband didn't take you out anywhere...?"

"No. Not really. He believed that all I was meant to do was take care of the house, and the kids. But since we didn't have any..."

"Why did you marry such a jerk?"

Lizzie couldn't help but chuckle at Joel's blunt comment. Well, there was some truth to what he said. Even if she could only wish it was that simple.

"Since I was a little girl... I was taught that I need to marry well, and be a good wife and mother." She looked up at the lavender sky, at the clouds lazily passing over their heads. "He was a good option... Rich, renowned, older than me, with a stable job... And, for a while, he was actually nice."

"For a while."

"Yeah..." She hung her head low once more. "Of course, that couldn't last... He wanted to have a perfect family. You know, a big house, a bunch of kids, white picket fence, all that crap..." Joel nodded, although he could only imagine what that actually meant. "But then... Everything fell apart when it turned out we couldn't have children."

"You..." Joel shivered, instinctively wrapping his arms around Lizzie. "Oh. Let me guess, he wasn't... He wasn't happy about that."

"No... As if I wanted things to turn out that way." She chuckled bitterly. "Every day, he got worse and worse... Especially when he started drinking..."

"You didn't have anyone to protect you?" Joel asked quietly, tightening his grip on Lizzie. He tried to be mindful about not harming her, but emotions were already swirling in his head and threatening to overflow.

"Not really.. I moved out to live with him. That meant no immediate family, no friends... Only me, against the world. And my little garden. Or, I guess, all the plants I kept in the kitchen." She added with a shy, warm smile, which faded immediately. "Until he had enough of that as well... And one day, during a fight, he destroyed the only thing that made me happy."

Joel opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Somehow, despite witnessing people's pain and suffering almost all his life, this sounded like the most vile, disgusting and repulsive thing he could imagine. Lizzie, the sweetest girl he ever met, who was only trying his best, having to put up with a depraved brute who ruined her life. At that moment, he wished that he knew who the man was, so that he could find him and make him pay for all the harm he caused to the wife he never deserved. Instead, Joel just hugged Lizzie ever so slightly tighter.

"But... That was the last straw." Lizzie's voice rang hollow, as a soft, distant smile appeared on her face. "I had enough by then, so when he wanted to hit me, I grabbed the nearest thing and hit him back... And that thing just happened to be a bread knife."

"You... Wow." Joel gasped quietly. For some reason, a brand new wave of appreciation for Lizzie just washed over him. So she wasn't as helpless as he thought of her... Even if, most likely, it was just a result of her emotional state. Which didn't mean it wasn't deserved. "Did you..."

"Yes. He got what he deserved." She exhaled softly, as if only saying that out loud allowed her to start breathing again. "It felt good for a while. But then, when I realized what I did... I went to the police, and told them what happened."

"But... Why...?"

"Self defense or not, I killed a man, Joel." Lizzie chuckled quietly. She didn't seem remorseful about what she did, not like she needed to be. More so, she sounded amused by the memory. Only then, her voice turned solemn again. "If I tried to hide it, it would've gotten even worse... So I told them everything. They heard me out about all that happened at home, but… They still had to put me in prison."

"But- But that's ridiculous! That blummin' idiot mistreated you for so long! You had a reason to do this! This was revenge, and he deserved it, and-" The moment he realized how tightly he was gripping Lizzie, he let go of her and took a deep, long breath. The truth about Lizzie's situation made him furious, but he shouldn't be taking it out on her. She did whatever she could, and what she thought was right. After calming down enough, he loosely hugged her once more. "And... How did you end up here...?"

"I didn't spend much time in jail," She continued, her voice hollow once more. "I knew I wasn't completely in the wrong after all he did, but... Still. The idea that I ruined my life, that I would never have a family like I was supposed to... It was too much. So I..." Once again, she went quiet, but that was enough for Joel to understand exactly what she meant. Immediately, he pulled the girl close and hid his nose in her soft, cotton candy hair. "It hurt less than I expected..."

"I wish I could've been there... I wish I could've protected you..." He whimpered, his eyes beginning to sting. It was a weird feeling, he couldn't really compare it to anything else he'd ever felt. As if someone just began pouring salty water into his eyes. Or rather, like his eyes started pouring it out.

"It's fine..."

"It's not fine! You didn't deserve all of that shit that happened to you! You deserved a long, safe life with someone who loves you, and not-" He quickly stopped, yet again taking deep breaths to calm down. Lizzie didn't deserve to be yelled at. She did nothing wrong, and yet, she had to pay the highest price. And despite not even knowing about all of that while it was happening, Joel could feel a sticky, thick pool of guilt form in his stomach. If only he could've done something to spare her the pain... But he couldn't. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. "I'm sorry. I... I wish it didn't turn out this way."

"Neither do I." The woman answered quietly, and then added "I guess now you know why I'm not scared of you?"

"Yeah. It makes sense now."

"Good." Lizzie smiled, leaning a bit more into his embrace. "I know you're one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, a godly being, but... But you've been good to me. So that's just how I see you. As a good person."

"I'm..." I'm not a good person , the words forced themselves on his tongue. Deep inside, he knew that was the truth. He caused so much suffering throughout his life, and getting just a little bit of a taste of how that must've felt, from the perspective of such an incredible person... At that moment, all Joel wanted to do was dig a big hole in the ground, bury himself in there and never come out. But he wouldn't. He couldn't protect her then, so he had to do it now. And even if one day she had to leave... No, that wasn't the time to think about that. "I'm... I'm honored to know someone like you."

"You make it sound like you've never met anyone more exciting than a girl who killed her husband." Lizzie chuckled, then tilted her head back to look him in the eyes. "Hey, have you heard about the Halloween party tomorrow?"

"I have," he confirmed with an amused chuckle. Lizzie's ability to turn grim topics to complete whimsy was incredible. "What about it?"

"I was thinking of going there, but... I don't have a costume." She confessed with an embarrassed smile.

"We can work on that. I'll show you the lost and found room. There's a ton of stuff people left behind, we'll figure something out."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up with excitement. "That'd be great!" She giggled, before adding "Although... I swear, before I came here, it was just spring..."

"We don't really go by the mortals' calendar here. We don't even have seasons here. Bdubs just threw the idea around one time, and we've been doing that every now and then."

"Oh. Makes sense, I guess." Lizzie smiled and looked up at him once more. "Will you go with me?"

"Always," He answered without thinking. Before, he never attended a Halloween party, even once. This time, the answer felt so obvious, he felt almost offended that she asked. "Just don't expect any cool costume from me."

"We'll figure something out." Lizzie repeated her earlier words with a big smile, then patted him on the side. Joel exhaled softly, once again burying his face in her hair.

"Yeah... I guess we will."

Before Joel could finally hit the bed for the night, he had to tend to a few more chores of his. By the time he only had to take out the trash, he was barely thinking out of exhaustion. Maybe there was something to what Lizzie said - as a god-adjacent being he didn't need to sleep, but it definitely helped. And he only began to feel it after running on barely any sleep for a few days, too overwhelmed with the sudden flurry of emotions that Lizzie awoke in him.

After finally sending the last trashbag down the Shute, Joel leaned against the wall to take a breath. His work for the day was finally done, and he still had to go look for an outfit for the party...

But then, an idea hit him. 

Once more, he pulled open the lid of the Shute and looked down. The shaft went down so far, its end disappeared in complete darkness. Nobody knew if it went anywhere, if it even had an end. It was a pretty scary thought, and he avoided spending too much time close to the Shute. But this time...

Joel reached towards his pocket, then pulled out the letter. It was a bit crumpled after being carried on him for so long, the pink ink slightly smeared. An idea came to his head, as his eyes jumped between the letter and the Shute. Nobody would know... She wouldn't go anywhere. She'd stay right here, when he was able to protect her. That empty, lost feeling that ravaged his head would be gone for good. All he had to do was toss it into the Shute...

Quickly, Joel shut the lid and hid the letter once more. No, that would be going too far. He was already breaking the rules, but that was a line even he wasn't ready to cross. Maybe one day, if he was sure that she wanted it that way... But not yet. War slid the letter back into the hidden pocket and turned away from the imposing shute. He was going to see her during the party the next day... Then, they'd finally talk. He'd explain everything, and she'd understand, for sure… Maybe if he just asked her to stay behind for him, she would say yes…? It didn’t sound as outlandish as it realistically was. Likely due to his sleep deprivation. In the morning, once his head finally cleared out, he had to try to ask her. Maybe not all hope was lost yet.

Chapter Text

Before Lizzie arrived, Joel didn't dare to enter the cafeteria to join the party. Instead, he just stood right under the door, glancing at all the tenants who were entering the room and tried looking as uninterested as possible. He attempted to look for an actual costume for himself, but everything he found felt just too stupid for the horseman of War to wear. Instead, he just settled for something that looked casual, but in the spirit of the event - a loose, black tank top with some metal band logo and baggy jeans with patches, borrowed from Bdubs. He also allowed Pearl to paint his nails black and experiment with eyeliner on him, and he almost didn't blow up at her for making him look like an idiot. By the end, he resembled an emo teenager from an era long gone. He only wished that Lizzie wouldn't make fun of him. Everyone else didn't matter. If someone decided to piss him off, he could always just punch them hard enough to shut them up.

"Would you look at that!" He flinched upon hearing a familiar voice of a man approaching him. It took him a second to recognize him as Martyn, that annoying guy he saw hanging around with Mumbo lately. He also looked dressed for the occasion, as he wore a pretty realistic looking pirate costume. It was completed with what looked like coral wrapped around his arms, chest and even his head. Maybe Joel would've even complimented the outfit, if the sight of the man didn't make his skin crawl. "The horseman of War, finally joining the Halloween party!"

"Shut up, Martyn."

"Somehow, you look even more depressed than you usually do," Martyn teased him while tightening the red sash around his waist. "Didn't know that's possible."

"Better get inside before I rip this sash of yours off and strangle you with it," Joel snarled back.

"You wouldn't dare, would you?" The man put his hand on the wall next to Joel's head and leaned over him. He was barely taller than Joel, but his boots had a slightly raised heel. War was already calculating in his head how to kick the man in the unmentionables without people noticing, before another familiar voice reached him.

"Joel! Sorry I'm late!"

"Lizzie!" The horseman pushed Martyn away, although he didn't put much force into the gesture. His eyes lit up as he noticed his friend approaching him.

When he took her to the lost and found the previous day, he allowed her to borrow a few outfits to choose after she returned to her room. As she claimed, she wanted to 'surprise' him. Clearly, she reached her goal. She was wearing a slightly loose onesie that made her resemble a calico cat, complete with a tail, a collar and ears poking out from the hood. Joel wasn't sure what to expect, but he definitely wasn't disappointed by the sight.

"You look... Lovely." He cleared his throat, really hoping that Martyn didn't hear him.

"Thank you!" The woman smiled brightly. "You also look cute! I think I went to secondary school with a boy who dressed like that..."

"Oh, really...?" Joel smiled dreadfully upon hearing Martyn bursting out into laughter behind him.

"Yeah! It makes you look younger, you know?" Lizzie added, then looked over Joel's shoulder. "Oh, hi Martyn!"

"Hey, Liz!" The man in the pirate costume struggled to stop laughing, so eventually, he stepped into the cafeteria. "Enjoy your date with your emo warlord!"

"I'LL RIP YOUR CORAL OFF AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR A-" Joel screamed after him, but stopped himself before finishing the threat. Instead, he just exhaled sharply and muttered "I'm gonna do it. He's got it coming."

"Do what?" Lizzie leaned over his shoulder with a curious expression.

"I don't know yet. Any ideas?"

"I might have some... But that's for later. Come on!" Lizzie grabbed his hands and pulled him into the cafeteria.

Just this morning, Joel helped Bdubs and Pearl prepare everything for the occasion. Most of the tables were shoved aside to make more space for people. The ones that were left were set full of all different kinds of snacks. Streamers made out of old, colorful magazines and pieces of fabric hung under the ceiling. The disco ball always hung in the middle of the cafeteria ceiling, so at last, once every few months, it was finally used. The DJ station was pretty modest, led by a resident named Oli, dressed in a pompous bard costume. The bar was full as always, but most people were just having fun dancing, playing games or simply chatting. The loud music, strong lights and an overwhelming amount of people made Joel feel hot and sweaty immediately.

"You alright, Joel?" Lizzie turned back to him and squished his hand in a reassuring gesture.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... Not used to this much going on." He admitted quietly. After a moment of staring at their hands, he added "Bu-but you don't have to baby me. I'm a grown ass man."

"Are you really?" Lizzie smirked. "You don't always act like one..."

"I assure you. I know men don't mature as fast, but I'm over two thousand years old. I'm not a child."

“You know what? I can almost believe that.” She smirked and booped his nose gently. Joel caught her hand, then carefully intertwined their fingers.

“Since you see me as a little kid… Does that mean you don’t want to dance with me?” He asked, giving her hand a little squeeze. Lizzie’s hands lit up.

“You mean it?”

“I do.”

“Well, I… Why not?”

“Lizzie! Hi, Lizzie!’

Both of them turned around, spotting Gem in the crowd right after she spotted them. The ginger woman slid between other partying tenants and approached them. She ditched her usual pirate outfit for a witch costume. A green dress with purple hood and shoes didn't sound like something that would work together, but surprisingly, it did.

"Hi guys! You're both looking good!" She grinned, putting her elbow on Lizzie's shoulder. 

"Thanks," Joel grumbled, his tone a bit annoyed.

"You remember about our deal, don't you?" Gem turned to the other girl with a cheeky smile. "I clocked Lady Death over there." She gestured in the direction of the tables that were left over, with people sitting and enjoying their drinks. "This is our chance to talk to her about the club!"

"Oh, right! Are the others here, too?"

"Sure are!" Gem nodded her head in the direction of the rest of the Fight Club members. Cub was dressed up in a costume that somewhat resembled a conventional ghost, but more grey, with little wings. Etho was standing right next to him and it seemed like he was wearing the same things he always was. "Come on, let's go now, before we lose her!"

"You want to go too, Joel?" Lizzie turned to the horseman with hope in her voice.

"You want to talk to..." War bit his tongue, unsure how to answer. He could tell the other horsemen were already suspicious of him, and that definitely wouldn't help his case. On the other hand, he swore to protect her... Unsure of what to do, he took a little step back, frantically looking around for an excuse. "I- Uh... No, thanks. I'll, um... I'll grab us drinks. If that's alright with you."

"Oh! Yeah, sure!" The woman in the cat onesie nodded energetically. Gosh, she's even sweeter than all the sugar Bdubs puts in his coffee, Joel thought for a second, only to internally cringe at himself. Good thing I kept that to myself, geez. "I'll see you over at the bar, then?"

"Yeah... Just-" He reached out and grabbed her by the hands. His touch was leaving the smallest traces of blood, as the markings on his arms were slowly beginning to leak out of stress. "If someone tries to harm you... Just run straight to me. I'll deal with them."

"I can defend myself, Joel." Lizzie giggled, but seeing how serious her friend looked, she ultimately sighed and smiled at him. "But... Okay. I will, if that makes you feel better."

"It does. Thanks."

Lizzie's hands slipped from his gentle grip, and Joel turned around to head towards the bar. His legs felt as if they were made out of cotton, as he wanted to turn back and run after her after all. She's in good hands, he tried convincing himself in his head, she's with that trident lady and the other guys. And she can defend herself... She'll be fine, blummin' heck...

By the time Joel finally approached the bar, the queue had gotten significantly shorter. He took an empty bar chair and glanced up in the direction of the barman. Only then, he noticed his outfit. He was wearing a fastfood worker uniform, and that sight immediately made Joel laugh.

"Wow... That's a real statement about our working conditions, ain't it?" He commented, bending over the bar. Bdubs turned around and scoffed.

"Very freaking funny! I look great in this, thank you very much." The horseman of Famine grumbled and rolled his eyes. "At least I don't look like a fifteen year old who stole his mum's eyeliner."

"You take that back, you freaking-"

"Hey, both of you, calm down." Joel suddenly stopped once someone put their hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to the person, but didn't recognize them at first due to their face being obscured by a bird-like mask. It took him a second to connect the dots.

"Wait... Mumbo?"

The man took the brimmed hat and the mask off to confirm his identity. If it wasn't for that and for his voice, Joel wouldn't have recognized him under the long, black robe.

"Pretty cool, huh?" The horseman of Pestilence smiled proudly. "It's authentic! I kept it since the 1600s! And it still fits just fine!"

"On a stick like you, probably does." Joel grumbled and rolled his eyes.

"Joel, can we talk?" Bdubs asked, grabbing a glass and pouring Joel a shot of vodka.

"About what?"

"About what's been going on with you lately."

The horseman of War immediately stiffened and glanced around.

"With so many people around? Are you mad?"

"We can go to the kitchen if you'd like..." He suggested before passing the glass to Joel, who immediately pushed it away.

"You spiked it with this moss of yours, didn'tcha?"

"I didn't! You see it somewhere here, you idiot?!"

"You probably have it somewhere on you, don'tcha?"

"Both of you, shut it!" Mumbo raised his voice. One set of his hands grabbed Bdubs by the shoulder, while the other caught Joel's fists before he could start throwing them. Even the tenants around them noticed something off and turned in their direction. "Joel, we're just worried about you, and wanted to talk to you!"

"And you chose the worst possible time and place, didn'tcha?" Joel growled back. To quench the anger bubbling inside of his head, he grabbed the glass he shoved away just seconds ago and downed it immediately. "What did you even want to talk about? One time I was in a good mood, you treated me like I was the problem! One time I come to a party, and immediately you're 'worried' about me! What's your deal?!"

Instinctively, he reached one of his hands into his pocket. The letter was right there. He wasn't completely innocent himself. According to his plan, after they had their fun, he'd approach Lizzie and give her his idea... No matter how outlandish it would sound, he had to try it. But now, seeing how pushy they got about talking to him, he was beginning to regret his decision. 

"Joel..." Mumbo was really struggling to keep his cool at this point. "If you want to talk, just remember that-"

"Why would I want to talk? I'm the blummin' horseman of War, not some wimp! And I won't tell you any-"

Joel suddenly went quiet, as he turned around on his bar chair in search of Lizzie. She was sitting at one of the distant tables, chatting with Gem and Pearl. But that wasn't the most worrying thing... Only then, he spotted someone slowly approaching them. Someone he would've dismissed, thinking they put on a very weird Halloween costume, if it wasn't for their singular wing, used to shield themselves from the people.

"Oh no. Not him..." He whispered, before dropping from his chair and leaving the bar.

"Joel? What's wrong? Joel!" Mumbo yelled after him, taken aback by his friend's weird reaction. He then turned back to Bdubs. "What's up with him today?"

"I don't know," Bdubs muttered. "But I have a bad feeling we're gonna find out soon..."

Lizzie could tell just how stressed Gem was about actually meeting the horseman of Death herself. Or maybe that was excitement? Either way, her hands were shaking and sweaty, but the smile never faded from her face. As they moved between the crowds of people, Lizzie looked back at the other two Fight Club members.

"She's about to meet the incarnation of Death, and yet she seems excited... How?" She asked.

"Well, you've been hanging out with mister War over there, haven't you?" Etho pointed out.

"Well, yeah..."

"Our guess is that she wants to get to meet this lady for… More reasons than just joining our club." Cub added. Lizzie opened her mouth, but then nodded, somehow understanding completely what he meant.

"Might be."

Finally, they approached the table where the horseman was seated - first Gem, then Lizzie, and Cub and Etho right behind them. Even the lady of Death was dressed for the occasion, as her long, black coat and makeup made her resemble a vampire. Seeing her wolf-like attributes, Lizzie wondered why she didn’t go for a werewolf costume. Maybe she already did, and wanted to change things up this time?

 Pearl was sitting alone, sipping on red wine from a tall glass. Her ears perked up the moment she noticed the tenants approaching her.

"Oh, I'm not signing autographs today."

" I might be, if you ask nicely." Gem answered with a big, teasing grin and sat on the opposite end of the table. Lizzie took a seat next to her, while Cub and Etho stood over them, looking over the whole situation.

Pearl almost choked on her drink, not expecting an answer like that. Whenever she did talk to the residents of the motel, they were universally frightened by her, as if she was going to give them a fate worse than death for daring to talk to her... And now, she was met with a cheeky girl in a witch outfit who sounded as if she was flirting with Death herself. To a degree, she was actually impressed. 

"You've got some guts to talk to me like that, Fish Lady." She grinned and tilted back on her chair. "What d'ya want?"

"We wanted to ask you to join our club!" Lizzie announced. Pearl squinted, unconvinced.

"A club...?"

"Yeah! We want you to join Fight Club!" Gem leaned forward in the woman's direction. "It's a club where we all fight and train together! It's a lot of fun!"

"Hm..." Death took a quick glance at the four people who approached her. She recognized them from passing. She never paid much attention to two of them, who she internally nicknamed Fish Lady and Lab Guy. She only remembered Etho's name on account of being in the motel longer than any of the other tenants. But that girl in the cat costume... She could swear she recognized her, but at that moment, she drew a blank. "And why do you think I'd want to join?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Gem retorted. "You probably have a pretty stressful job, so why not blow off some steam while fighting a bunch of mortals?"

"Besides, we already got Joel to join," Lizzie added. "You two would be the perfect fit to join us!"

Hearing Joel's name finally lit up the little light in the back of Pearl's head. Finally, she recognized the woman. The Shady Lady, who came in possession of the keys to Joel's storeroom. And the way she spoke so freely about the horseman only made her more suspicious of her. Now, she finally had an excuse to talk to her and figure out what's wrong with her friend... But first, she turned to Gem.

"You know what?" She shrugged. "Why not. I'll give it a try."

"Really?" Gem's eyes lit up.

"Yeah! But you better give me a real challenge when I come, Fish Lady. Or else I'm dropping ya."

"Deal." The ginger girl reached her hand over the table. With a bit of hesitation, Pearl accepted the handshake. "By the way, don't call me that. My name's Gem. And these guys are Cub and Etho."

"I do remember you, Etho." Pearl pointed out, winking at the white-haired man. She then looked at the woman in the cat onesie. "And you?"

"I'm Lizzie! Nice to meet you!"

"You're Liz- Oh shit." Pearl opened her mouth. Only then, all the pieces of the puzzles finally clicked into place, her mind blanking for a second. She wanted to punch herself for how she never connected the dots earlier. Lizzie... The name they had on the strange letter, the one that arrived even before she did. It had to be her. All of that, together with Joel's weird behavior, and with how freely Lizzie talked about him... "Uh, excuse me for a minute." She said, before getting up from the table and turning around.

"It was nice talking to ya!" Gem yelled after her. She was about to add something, before someone moved between Etho and Cub and tapped Lizzie on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, miss?" The pink-haired woman heard a soft, deep voice right behind her. "May I talk to you for a second?"

"Uh..." She looked up, a bit abashed by the sudden question. He didn't recognize the stranger at all - the markings on his body made him resemble Pearl, and he didn't look exactly human, but he also gave off an aura much different to that of the horseman. She seemed approachable enough, though, and his glowing red eyes seemed surprisingly gentle. "Yes... Is something wrong, sir?"

"Excuse me, sorry! Sorry! Move out of the way!" 

Joel grunted as he pushed people away, trying to force his way to the other end of the room. The closer Decar was to Lizzie, the faster he walked, eventually beginning to run. He clutched the letter in his pocket once more, making sure it was still there. It was... He gritted his teeth as he watched the psychopomp put his hand on Lizzie's shoulder and began talking to her. What did he say? Joel couldn't hear him over the loud music. Was it already too late? Did she know? She looked intimidated and a bit taken aback, maybe there was still time...

"Decar!"

Joel finally emerged from the biggest mass of people, charging right at the psychopomp. His markings already began leaking, his fists now covered in both sweat and blood. Seeing what's about to happen, Cub and Etho moved aside, although they were clearly still watching. Decar didn't seem to see Joel, as he was standing with his back to him, but Lizzie quickly picked up on his friend's appearance.

"Sir! Watch out!"

Before Decar could even react, Joel delivered a strong blow right to the psychopomp's jaw. The man fell to the ground with a groan and even before he could get up, Joel threw himself at him, punching him mercilessly. But the psychopomp was not going to just let Joel get away with it. He caught his hands and threw him into a nearby table. People sitting around it jumped away from fear, as the impact of the hit broke the furniture. Joel wiped dark blood dripping from his nose and attacked Decar once more. The psychopomp and the incarnation of War began to wrestle on the floor, punches and kicks flying left and right. The floor around them was getting dark from blood and ichor from their injuries. Joel was seeing red, aiming for his opponent's head, trying to kick him in the joints, even attempting to bite him wherever he could reach. His hands got slippery from the leaking markings, his horns felt like they were burning on his head. He was lucky that Decar's sword slid away after the first punch, but he still got hit repeatedly by the psychopomps' fists and parts of heavy, metal armor. The music went completely silent, people were terrified and shocked alike, watching the whole fight play out.

"Joel! Stop this! Joel!" Lizzie wanted to get closer and attempt to separate the two fighting godlings, but quickly pulled away. Sure, she could defend herself, but she was in no position to get between two primal forces of nature. Unsure of what to do, she stepped back, Gem gripping her hand in a comforting manner.

"Move aside, people!" Bdubs' voice rang over the sounds of the struggle. 

The residents of the motel made way for the horsemen, who grabbed the two fighting beings in an attempt to separate them. Bdubs and Mumbo pulled back Joel, who was still trying to throw hands, while Pearl grabbed and dragged Decar away. Both of them were bruised and beaten, covered in blood, struggling to breathe.

"Let go of me!" Joel began to fight back, trying to free himself from his friends' grip. "I'm not done with this bloody idiot!"

"Joel, calm down!" Bdubs grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. "What is the matter with you?! You've been acting like a freak ever since... Since..."

The man went silent, turning his attention to the pool of blood that was left over from the struggle. Something lied right in the middle of it, partially submerged. It looked like a rectangular, slightly yellowish piece of paper. Famine exchanged quick glances with Mumbo, then let go of Joel and approached the strange object. 

"No, no, Bdubs, wait, I can explain-" Joel's tone immediately went from angry to remorseful and apologetic. All of the horsemen stared at Bdubs, who picked the letter up and attempted to rub the blood off. He then let out a silent gasp, and turned to Joel.

"How could you..." Famine whispered.

"Don't tell me..." Pearl sounded just as in disbelief.

"Everyone, leave the cafeteria! The party's over!" Bdubs announced. Despite meek protests and grumbles of disappointment, people began heading towards the door.

"Joel...?" Lizzie took a couple of cautious steps in her friend's direction, but recoiled when he turned to her. 

The fight left him with a black eye, bruises all over his body. Blood was dripping down his nose and arms. One of his horns was broken, a third of it slid off somewhere. The sight of Lizzie stepping away from him felt as if someone plunged a knife into Joel's heart and began turning it around. The pain was worse than all of his wounds combined. It was the first time he saw actual fear in her eyes... And he caused it. He , who promised to protect her. He , who she put so much faith into... And he completely let her down. He dropped his head, to hide how his eyes began feeling stingy yet again.

"I told you," Decar commented, coughing as he finally got up from Pearl's grip. "I wanted to help."

"Shut up, Decar." War grunted under his breath.

"Will you be alright?" Pearl asked, looking over the psychopomp.

"I'll be fine... But you guys should talk with him. I think you will all benefit from that."

"That we'll do." Bdubs grunted, before approaching War. He waved the bloodied envelope in front of his face. "You have anything to say for yourself, mister?"

"Let's first get him back to a usable state," Mumbo suggested. "We'll talk back at home."

"Fine by me." Bdubs grabbed Joel by the shoulder. The man winced as he touched his especially painful bruises. He tilted his head back, the anger finally fading from his eyes, replaced with fear and remorse.

"Lizzie, wait, I can explain, I promise..." He pleaded to her.

"Your name is Lizzie, isn't it?" Pearl asked, approaching the woman in the cat onesie. She confirmed with a nod, then took her hood off. "Well... Seems like we did get your letter after all. If you could go to your room and wait there for us... We'll discuss a few things, and return it to you."

"My... My letter...? Joel?" Lizzie looked at him in disbelief. Seeing just how broken the revelation made her, Joel wished he could gouge his eyes out just so that he didn't see her disappointment. She then turned to Pearl. "Of course. I'll wait for you."

"Thank you." Death nodded, then approached the other horsemen. "Come on, guys. Looks like we have a lot to talk about."

Chapter Text

"Withholding a letter from a tenant, seeing them in secret, starting a fight with one of the psychopomps... What in the hell were you even thinking?"

Pearl paced around their living room, waving the letter addressed to Lizzie in her hand. She looked a bit ridiculous, still wearing her Halloween party outfit, but Joel was not in a mood for laughing. His eyes slowly followed her, while he sat on a chair, allowing Mumbo to patch up all the cuts and wounds he sustained during the fight with Decar. He winced quietly as the stinging of hydrogen peroxide on his skin reached an open cut on his chin. Pestilence incarnate tried being delicate and considerate, but the pain persisted - together with the grueling feeling of guilt and embarrassment that boiled inside of Joel. It felt like hot, sticky tar, stuck to the back of his throat, threatening to suffocate him at any moment. 

"How long have you been keeping this from us, Joel?" Death leaned against the table, attempting to look War in the eyes. In turn, he hung his head low to hide his eyes and mask the stinging feeling. Silence wouldn't save him, but maybe he could save himself from sounding like even more of a thoughtless idiot.

"Wait, hold on," Mumbo suddenly stopped his work and turned to the guilty horseman "You didn't return the letter at all to me, did you? You lied about returning it to me, and blamed me for losing it!"

"If I did return it to you, you would've lost it either way." Joel finally grumbled in response.

"That doesn't mean you should've kept it from that girl!" Bdubs retorted. He was the only one who found the time to change from his costume into something more appropriate. Now, he was standing in their little kitchen, making their injured friend a cup of herbal tea. "Since you found her, you should've given that letter to her right away! Or at least tell us who it's for."

"It's still a bit weird that it did arrive before she did..." Mumbo hummed in wonder.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Pearl snapped back. "Maybe it was a mistake, or something." She shook her head in disbelief, then crouched in front of the chair that Joel occupied. "Why did you tell Decar, but not us?"

"I didn't tell him. He found out, somehow. You know that psychopomps are freaks."

"Well, that checks out," Death commented. "Still, Joel! This whole place can only function if we work together and follow the rules. And we can't do that if we don't talk about things that happen! If only we would've known..."

Joel remained silent once more. He hated that with each word, his friends were right. Once Bdubs brought him the tea, he pushed the cup away, not wanting to risk being influenced by Famine's moss. Even though his throat felt dry and painful, he was already on the brink of breaking. If something pushed him over the edge, he'd make himself into even more of a mess.

"Joel...?" Bdubs asked quietly. "Come on, talk to us, man... Sure, it's hard, but we'll work this out..."

"Pearl is right," War finally spoke up. "This place only functions if we follow the rules the Council gave us. And you know why?" He raised his head, his deep, brown eyes shining dangerously. "Because we're not just humans running a motel! We're the bloody Horsemen of the Apocalypse! Do you think beings like us can just talk things out? Or that we can run a place like this? That we can make it work?!"

"Clearly we can," Mumbo retorted, "We've been doing just fine."

"Oh really?" Joel chuckled bitterly. "Think about it, Mumbo. Think about who we were during all of our rides. Do you think these people could run a motel, or even communicate about their problems? Heck, do you think they had problems like that? Having a messy desk, or keeping secrets from a person they like... Do we even sound like we're still the horsemen?"

"Well, centuries of being away from work can change people," Pearl admitted, "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Do you think a horseman of War would lie about meeting up with a girl he likes?" Joel was aware of just how ridiculous he sounded, but at that point, the dam was already cracking. If he didn't speak up now, he'd have to let his emotions out in a different, likely more destructive way. "Do you think he'd spend his days taking out trash, changing lightbulbs and mopping the floors? You guys really don't feel that, too? Like a part of you died because of this place?"

Pearl, Mumbo and Bdubs exchanged concerned looks. What Joel spoke about sounded strange at first, but then, it started resonating with them. They definitely weren't the same beings they once were, when their only job was spreading chaos and destruction among the living. Once they were withdrawn from the battlefield and put into this place, all of them had to adapt in more ways than one. All of a sudden, from harbingers of suffering, they turned into a group of obedient (more or less) customer service workers. And with time, the line between their two occupations blurred. Whether they liked it or not, they experienced new things, met new people, and were forced to change. If they were suddenly given their horses back and allowed to roam free among mortals, would they be the same as back in the good old times? Or were they only good in hindsight?

"Maybe I just went crazy because of this place," Joel continued in a bitter tone. "Fine, I can believe that. But Lizzie, she... She made me feel like I wasn't broken. That I could do something good. Even if we spent most of our lives spreading misery. I didn't know whether that change was a good thing or not, but... She made me feel like it was. Like it was worth it. And... I didn't want to lose... That. Lose her."

The guilty feeling in the back of his throat was getting even worse, as yet another realization hit him. All this time, he was thinking about how Lizzie made him feel, how happy he was with her, how much he wanted her to stay... And in his euphoria of finding someone he liked, he never stopped to consider what that meant for her . Did she actually like him, or was it just some sort of game of pretend? Asking her to stay behind for him was so ridiculous, there was no way she'd agree, right? The moment the memory of almost throwing the letter into the Shute returned to him, his hands began to itch. He wished he could just bite them off at the spot. If he committed to that... Lizzie would be completely stuck at the motel, with no way out. There was no way to tell whether the Council would be keen on making a new letter for someone who lost theirs, so if the answer was no... She'd be doomed to stay in the motel until the end times. Maybe even longer. And even if she did like Joel a little bit, he felt disgusting for even thinking about forcing her to such a fate. 

After all, that was the point of being a mortal - getting born, growing, changing, dying, then changing once more. A constant state of metamorphosis, a neverending stream of change. That was the main difference between mortals and gods. Gods and god-like beings were made once, and stayed like that forever. No wonder the prospect of changing under the motel's influence freaked him out so bad. It was as if he was losing a serious part of himself, dying in a way. And as someone who saw death from so many different angles, it felt like a horrible fate to be pushed into. But not worse than what he almost forced upon Lizzie.

"And what are you gonna do with me now?" He asked quietly. "Will you report me to the Council?"

The other horsemen looked at each other once more. Pearl ultimately sighed, and began speaking.

"We won't. If Decar does, we'll... Figure something out." She looked up at her friend once more. "What you did was messed up... And if you told us earlier, we could've fixed it. You know that, right?"

"Doesn't take a genius," He grumbled. "If you hate me now, that's fine, I don't..."

"Hate you?" Mumbo scoffed. "If we did, we would've reported you. Or something like that."

"But..." Joel raised his head slowly. His vision got a bit blurry, a bit watery. His cheeks felt warm and wet, a feeling he couldn't exactly explain.

"So far, we've been fixing everything by ourselves. And it can stay that way.” Bdubs commented. “Maybe there's something to what you said... You know, about us no longer being the same people we once were. If you were to tell me all these centuries ago that I'd be pouring drinks for people and hear out their woes, I'd think you're stupid." He teased, his voice warm with an attempt of reassurance.

"Or if you told me that I'd be joining clubs to spend time with mortals," Pearl rolled her eyes, but with no real anger or bitterness in her tone. "Or that Mumbo would finally be getting organized."

"Well, I wouldn't have done it without Martyn. And Lizzie too, I guess," Pestilence confessed with a sheepish smile.

"If you think about it, we only really started changing because of all these people," Bdubs pointed out. "I mean, there was probably something going on earlier, but... Like Joel said. If we were still out there, roaming free, we wouldn't be in this place now."

"And wouldn't that be better...?" 

Joel's words balanced between asking and stating a fact. It really felt like that old version of himself he left behind would know the answer. He'd probably ridicule the current Joel for not knowing it right now. That old version that didn't need to lie to his friends, didn't need to keep secrets. The version that didn't fix broken pipes, sweep the floors, repair broken fountains and organize picnics. The version he tried so hard to still be, and yet... Lizzie liked this new him. The one that was a bit confused, a bit lost, a bit awkward with his emotions and words. Would she like that old version of him? Or would he just be the reflection of what she experienced during her life? War incarnate shivered as all these strange feelings and thoughts, ones he always kept in the very back of his head, surfaced. Maybe it wasn't all bad that he was like that now. Maybe changing a little bit wasn't a crime. Forcing someone to stay behind and not allow them to change, however...

"I'd like to give her the letter myself," He finally said. "If that's alright with you guys."

"Can we trust you with that?" Pearl asked, getting up from her crouched position and looking at Joel again. He still looked like a mess, even more than he did just after being dragged away from the fight. The cuts and wounds on his face and arms got patched by Mumbo, but there was no way to hide the black eye and the bruises. Not only that, his eyes were red and puffy, as the tears that built up for centuries finally got out of his system. Death sighed, then leaned over the table and handed him a tissue. "Sorry, I just... I'm fine with that. How about you, boys?"

"I won't mind either," Mumbo added.

"Bdubs?"

Famine sighed, but eventually nodded.

"Just... Don't stay with her for too long," He asked. "It will hurt not only you."

"I know," Joel confirmed, then slowly got up from his chair. His whole body was shaking, the sudden release of emotion resulting in a migraine and a nauseous feeling. With the tiniest bit of hesitation, Pearl handed him the letter.

Now, there was no going back.

Before leaving the apartment and heading to Lizzie's room, Joel decided to change into something more appropriate. He didn't often wear long sleeves, as he didn't like how tight they felt, and didn't want to risk leaving blood all over them. This time however, he pulled out an old, black turtleneck, perfect for hiding all the damage that he sustained during the fight. Lizzie saw him beaten up and furious once, and he wouldn't dare to make that his last impression of him in her eyes. He couldn’t hide his black eye or the broken horn, but that had to be enough for the time being.

When he finally left his room and headed towards the stairs, the corridors of the motel felt eerily empty. Usually, that'd be a good sign, as it meant nobody to bother him. This one time however, he wished there was someone who would stand over his head and yap, to distract him from all the feelings coursing through his head. Even though choosing the elevator would mean he'd reach Lizzie's room faster, he opted for the stairs. As if the self-inflicted punishment of climbing up to the seventh floor would make up for all his wrongdoings. On his way up, he couldn't keep his eyes from the envelope. It was crumpled, dirty, splattered with the blood he lost trying to keep up the lie. He could only hope that the letter inside was still intact. If she did receive it, but it was so damaged that she couldn't read her incoming fate, would it still work? Or would that mean she would be doomed to stay behind after all? Joel started gently straightening the envelope, as if that was going to help with something. Either way, he already failed her. The only thing he could still do was own up to his mistakes, and not make any more.

After arriving at the seventh floor and under Lizzie's door, Joel stopped for a second to catch his breath. His migraine was becoming unbearable and the strain of walking for so long made his nausea even worse. The old version of himself would probably make fun of him for being so out of shape... The man took a deep breath, then knocked on the door to room 7134.

"Lady Lizzie?" He spoke up, cringing internally at how his raspy voice broke. "I... I brought you your letter. I'll just slide it under the door, so that you-"

Right away, Joel heard the click of the unlocking door. They slowly swung open and Lizzie's face appeared, looking at him from inside the room.

"Joel..." She whispered. "Are you okay?"

War put his hands behind his back, his nails digging into his skin in a painful manner. He made such a mess and almost ruined her existence, and she was asking whether he was okay?

"I brought you your letter," He repeated, handing her the envelope. "I apologize for keeping it away, and, um..."

"Come here." Lizzie accepted the letter, but also opened the door wider. A bit abashed by the request, Joel slowly stepped inside.

At last, the place finally looked lived in, with all of Lizzie's stuff tossed around the place. The cat onesie laid across the table, as she found the time to change her clothes. She led him to the chair, then took a seat on her bed. There were about five feet of distance between them, and looking at the circumstances, Joel didn't push to get closer to her. He didn't deserve that, after all.

"How are you feeling?" She asked quietly.

I'm fine, he mouthed at first, but no sound came out. That was such an obvious lie, Lizzie would never believe him. Not after what she saw. Not after witnessing the man she liked getting absolutely wild and beating up someone. She definitely would've hated the old him, that's for sure.

"It's... Rough." He finally admitted, hanging his head low. "I'm so sorry about... Everything. I should've given you the letter from the start, and not make all this mess... Not fall for you, and all of that."

Lizzie's eyes lit up, but she remained silent. Even if she suspected that was the case, she never expected Joel to actually say it out loud. And for someone like him, that was a huge step forward. Comparable to learning how to walk. 

"You are the most special person in the world," He continued, shyly looking up at her. "And I abused that... You made me feel like I was worth something, and I... I didn't want to lose you, because of that. But you're so much above this, above me... I can't keep you here for any longer. But..."

For a second, the ridiculous idea returned. That was his last chance to ask her. Maybe she'd understand, maybe she'd want to stay behind... No, he shook his head and dug his nails deeper into his skin. Are you crazy? Now, you're going to ask her that? Pathetic freak -

Joel flinched and perked up his head the moment he heard a familiar sound. The quiet ripping of paper. In complete silence, he watched as at last, Lizzie opened the envelope and took out her letter. It was just as crumpled and dirty, but maybe it was still readable...? He waited for her to finish reading. Of course, she wouldn't just tell him what her judgement was, and he was in no position to ask. But at that moment, their fate was sealed. In a matter of days, someone would come to take her into the afterlife. And he would stay behind, right here, like he always did.

"Before you go, I..." He spoke up with hesitation. Lizzie continued to read the letter for a moment later, then folded it and put it on her lap. Her face perfectly hid any feelings she had behind the decision made for her. Joel wished he could guess from her expression where she was going, but her expression was completely still and neutral. "I'd like to... Thank you for all the things you did. For the garden, for my friends, for... For me. You made me feel like I could actually be a good person, and..." Once more, the stinging feeling in his eyes returned. War quickly wiped his face with his hands, struggling to keep his feelings at bay. He did that so well for many years, and now, he felt like an emotionally unstable teenager. And that was incredibly humiliating. "I might be the horseman of War, but... You gave me peace. And I'll never forget that. I promise."

Lizzie looked up at him for a second, then down at her letter again. What she read felt confusing, and she had to sit over it and think for a while... But that could wait. She still felt betrayed and hurt by Joel, sure. Still, if she could help, she was going to. Even if in her head, she felt as if she was overstepping some sort of unspoken boundary between them.

"It was an honor to meet you," she whispered. "Do you think that if we were in any other place in the universe... We could've worked...?"

"I..." Quickly, Joel shook his head. "You deserve so much better than me, lady. And wherever you end up... You'll find someone who will cherish and love you. And..." War bit his tongue. He already overstayed his welcome. Slowly, he got up from his chair. He had to leave now, before it'd get any harder. "Thank you. And... Bye."

"Bye, Joel." Lizzie responded quietly, not even looking up at him anymore. "And... Thank you too. For everything."

The janitor struggled to force himself to walk towards the door. There were so many things he still wanted to tell her, but nothing would make his situation better. Their future was sealed. He did what he had to do, even if far too late. Finally, he opened the door, stepped outside, then quietly closed them. The silence of the hall hit him like a bulldozer.

There was no going back anymore. She was already gone.

"Well, that Halloween party was a dud..." Pearl joked half-heartedly as the three horsemen sat around the table, drinking tea and thinking over what's next. Joel had not yet returned from Lizzie's room, but a freshly made cup of tea was already waiting for him. "You think we should try it again soon...?"

"It won't feel the same," Mumbo whispered. "I think we should just take things easy for a while. Maybe at least until the next mail day."

"Imagine if we had a therapist here," Bdubs chuckled bitterly. "We'd probably need them before anyone else."

"We're bad at this, aren't we?" Mumbo turned to his friends. "Come on, guys. We should be better than this... We didn't see what was up with Joel all this time. How did we miss that? We're supposed to help all these people here, but we can't even help our own friend?"

"Maybe... Maybe we are bad at this." Pearl whispered, putting her head in her hands. 

"Come on, Pearl, things happen..." Bdubs reached his hand out to her.

"They shouldn't happen like this! I should've noticed something, you guys could've done something, we..." Her voice broke for a second. Death paused for a second to take a sip of her strong black tea, then continued. "We messed up too. I'm not saying that what Joel did isn't messed up, but... We shouldn't have let it happen. Gosh, why did the Council even make this place? And why did they choose us, out of everyone?"

"Cuz all the others could be useful," Mumbo commented. "And all we do is cause harm. Even now."

"You know what?" Bdubs got up from his chair. "The pity party's over. We all need a break. You guys should get some sleep. I'll go find Joel and make sure he didn't do anything stupid."

Pearl and Mumbo looked up at the horseman of Famine, silently agreeing with him. All of their woes wouldn't help them at this point. What happened happened, and they couldn't do anything about it anymore.

"Fine," Pearl nodded. "If you need me, I'll be in my room."

"Me too," Mumbo added. 

"I'll be right back." Bdubs finished drinking his tea, then quickly left the apartment. 

The eerie emptiness of the hall left him just as uneasy as it did Joel not too long ago. He already turned in the direction of the elevator, to get to the seventh floor and get his friend from Lizzie's room... But then, a strange gut feeling hit him. Bdubs looked back, in the direction of their old storage. They kept all sorts of things there - broken furniture that still could be fixed, old bedding, spare dishes, random things they didn't have any use for... And the Shute was there, as well. He couldn't exactly tell why, but for some reason, he could just tell that Joel went there. Quickly, he turned around and headed that wat.

His gut feeling was unmatched as always. When he opened the heavy metal door, he immediately noticed his friend, sitting right under the lid of the Shute, his knees pressing against his chest and his head buried in his hands. He was quiet, only shaky breathing escaping his lips. Bdubs shivered, realizing what almost just happened. He also always got the strange feeling whenever he was close to the place, so considering Joel's current state, he might've just saved his friend.

"Joel..." Famine approached the other horseman and crouched in front of him. "Come on, man... I know it feels bad now, but... How about you try a nap first? I promise, it'll be better once you sleep."

"You really think sleeping will fix everything?" Joel grumbled. 

"It won't fix things, but... It will make you feel better. I swear."

"You're an idiot."

"At least you're not the only one."

The horseman of War let out a bitter scoff, but ultimately accepted Bdubs' extended hand and slowly got up from the ground. He took one last glance at the Shute, the call of the void stronger than ever. If he just decided to do it, all his guilt and pain would be over...

But maybe Bdubs was right. Maybe a nap would make him feel better. He sighed and slouched over his friend's shoulder, allowing him to drag him back into his bedroom.

Chapter Text

For the next few days, Joel was barely seen around the motel. Whenever he did have some work to do, he wandered the halls silently, like a ghost. The same man who yelled at people for bothering him at work now remained silent at any comment thrown his way. Even the most annoying of tenants stopped bothering him - either out of pity, or out of fear, as the memory of the fight during the Halloween party was still fresh on people's minds. Whenever Joel did find some free time, or at least didn't have to work on something urgently, he locked himself in his room and sat there in complete silence. None of the other horsemen really knew what he was doing in there and any attempts at getting him to talk resulted in a half-hearted snark at best. The memory of his upbeat mood during the last few days before the party faded, as now he avoided even making eye contact, let alone talking to anyone. His friends expected him to start spending more time at the bar, but to everyone's surprise, he stopped appearing there at all. 

When all alone in his room, all Joel did was lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying the last conversation with Lizzie in his head. He mulled over every word, thinking what he could've said better, what should've been omitted, if there was anything he could've done to save himself. But it was far too late for that. All that he was left with were his thoughts, and the vague reminders that the pink-haired woman was once in his life. The book he took from the library after her recommendation laid under his bed; he hasn't finished even half of it. All of the clothes he dirtied when taking care of the garden with her made up a pile in the corner of his room. His Halloween 'costume' was also tossed there, still covered in godly blood. The leftover items from their picnic were stuffed deep into his closet, to never see the light of day again. Not like that really mattered, as he never expected to meet anyone else who'd want to have a picnic with him. And even if someone appeared, it was only a matter of time before the garden would fall into disarray once more.

After their talk, Joel expected his friends to bother him daily to try to get him out of his shell again. Luckily, they gave him time to process everything and didn't pressure him to go back to his usual performance right away. Every now and then, they'd leave hot tea or snacks under his door, but he never accepted any. If anything, he wished they would just forget that he existed.

"The horseman of War, good one..." He muttered to himself one morning, still wrapped tightly in his blanket. With the windows constantly closed, his room was getting hot and stuffy, so he just laid there without a shirt, his hair dirty from the sweat. "The Council could probably replace me if they wanted to. There are so many incarnations of War, they could take anyone... Anyone, but me."

Quiet knocking on his door put a stop to his train of thought for a second, but he ignored the sound. His friends probably wanted him to get out of the room, maybe eat something or take a shower. At that point, he barely had the strength to keep his eyes open, and he didn't even want to think about leaving his bed.

"If I was a human... Would I be like Lizzie's husband? He must've been such a piece of shit... What am I talking about, I'm way worse than him..."

The knocking repeated, this time louder.

"Joel?" Pearl's voice reached him through the closed door.

"Leave me alone, Pearl," He whined. The way his face broke made him cringe. He grabbed a pillow and squished it against his face, muffling his next words. "I don't want to talk to you guys."

"Joel, you idiot, it's mail day! You gotta come help us!"

"You'll be fine on your own!" He responded. Why do they want my help? Last time I did something with mail, it ended up in a disaster... He groaned and turned on his stomach, his face still buried within the pillow. "You never help us anyway!"

"Fine, fine..." Pearl sounded surprisingly amused by Joel's response, as if she was actually okay with him skipping such an important occasion. "Guess it's just gonna be the four of us..."

"Yeah, right, whatever..." Joel sighed and closed his eyes, ready to fall into another state of dreamless half-sleep. The only type that could quell his- "Wait. What do you mean, four of you...?"

Pearl didn't reply, however. Slowly, Joel sat up on his bed, rubbing his eyes to get rid of any leftover sleepiness. He was hungry, tired, and overall felt like shit, but that one little comment sent a spark of energy through his head. Did they take one of the residents to help them with the mail? No, it was such a sacred ceremony for them, they would never let a mortal join them... Did the Council actually send his replacement? But then, why would Pearl ask him for help anyway? Or was Pearl just playing with him? But why would she? 

Eventually, after much consideration whether it was even worth it, Joel got up from his bed. He reached to grab his shirt, but even the effort to cover himself up felt like too much at the moment. Instead, he wobbled towards the door and slowly opened them.

As always during the mail day, their table was covered in a mountain of letters. The layout of work was almost the same as it was every time. Pearl was overlooking everything while pacing around their living room. Bdubs was reading out the letters, while Mumbo crossed out everyone that was to receive their mail on that day. And then, the horseman of Famine handed every letter to... Lizzie. She already had a few letters sorted in front of her, and as she leaned back on her chair to grab another letter from Bdubs, she noticed Joel emerging from his room. Immediately, her face lit up with a big smile.

"Hi, Joel!"

"Lizzie...?" Joel gasped breathlessly, then started rubbing his eyes to make sure it wasn't just some sort of cruel dream his brain made up to taunt him. And yet, when he opened them again... She was still there. After receiving another letter, she looked down at the piles of letters in front of her.

"Which floor was it again, Mumbo?" She asked.

"Fourth floor." The horseman of Pestilence answered, flipping through his list and crossing out another name. "Who's next?"

"Let's see... Geez, I never know how to pronounce this guy's name... X-i-suma?" Bdubs grumbled, struggling to pronounce the name written in grey letters on one of the envelopes. Mumbo chuckled at the sound of his frustration.

"Oh, I remember that guy. Also from the fourth floor." Mumbo quickly crossed out the name, then turned to Joel again. "So? You're gonna help us or not?"

"You... You sure you need my help...?" Joel asked hesitantly, his eyes still glued to Lizzie. Her hair was tied into a high, messy bun. She wore a cream shirt and dark overalls with many pockets, perfect for working in the garden. Even in such casual attire, in his eyes, she looked absolutely breathtaking.

"We're gonna finish faster if we all work together," The woman commented with a cheeky smirk. "But if you'd rather just stand there and watch..."

"I'm coming!" Joel immediately grabbed a chair and dragged it over, then sat close to Lizzie.

The horseman of War tried to apply himself whenever he could, but even then, he couldn't keep his eyes off Lizzie. He even hesitated to blink, as if any wrong move would make her disappear. But she didn't. She was right there, swiftly sorting through the mail and engaging in any banter with the horsemen as if she's been part of the team since the beginning. For a while, Joel expected her to completely ignore him, in case she was still bitter about the letter situation. She didn't seem to mind any of his attempts to carefully turn her attention to him. Once Joel carefully grazed her wrist, she grabbed his hand, their fingers intertwining in a soft gesture. When he carefully put his head on her shoulder, Lizzie smiled and nuzzled her cheek against his forehead. There were so many questions coursing through the horseman's head, but at that moment, everything was clear as day to him. He could just stay here forever, sitting with her, soaking her presence, cuddled against her like a lovesick puppy - no matter how embarrassing that must've looked from afar. None of the other horsemen made any remarks about Lizzie's presence either, as if it was obvious she was working with them. But how...? Joel was there when she opened the letter. Doing that sealed her fate, forcing her to go whenever she was sent by the Council. So why did she stay behind? What if it was some sort of cruel joke after all?

By the time there were only a few letters left to go through, Pearl put a plate of sandwiches and a cup of tea for each of them on the now empty table. For some reason, that sight finally snapped Joel back into reality. He really was just sitting with his friends on a mail day, doing his usual work. But the difference was, his favorite person in the world was now inexplicably with them, and nobody batted an eye. With hesitation, he reached out to grab a sandwich, before making a pretty embarrassing realization.

"I should probably put something on, hm?" He grumbled. Lizzie turned to him and chuckled.

"You're gonna catch a cold like that," she pointed out. "So yeah, you probably should."

"I'll be right back," Joel muttered before dashing into his room to grab the first clean shirt he could find. 

"So, Lizzie..." Pearl took a sip of her tea. "We'll have to find you a place somewhere here... We don't really have the means to expand our little apartment, at least not now, but..."

"That's fine! I'll just take any spot you guys give me," Lizzie quickly responded, hesitantly grabbing her cup. It was light pink, with little silhouettes of birds painted all over. "I don't need much space."

"Well, if you won't mind, we can share a room-"

"You can take my room!" Joel bursted out of his bedroom, barely done with putting on a shirt of some sort of metal band. All of the eyes turned to him, watching him slowly turn red. "I mean... I can give you half of my room. We can share it, I guess. If you want to. It's whatever to me."

"I'll think about it." Lizzie nodded. The idea of sharing a room with Joel was tempting, but... Maybe not yet. First, she had to hear certain words from him, before she could make up her mind. "Is there anything I need to know right now?"

"Well..." Pearl hummed, tapping her fingers against the tabletop. "We'll show you around the place... You already have the keys to the storeroom, but if you need a place for your own tools, we can do that... Oh! And an important thing. Be very careful when you throw something down the Shute."

"The Shute?" Lizzie scrunched her nose. 

"Yep. Things that go down there never come back. And I mean, never. People too."

"Oh. Gosh." The woman shuddered. "Good point. Thanks."

"So, uh, I don't want to rain on anyone's parade, but..." Joel finally sat at the table again. "I feel kinda... Confused. Why is Lizzie here...?"

"What, you want me to leave?" Lizzie teased in response.

"No, no, no no no!" The horseman of War immediately hugged her, burying his face in her shoulder. He was feeling particularly touchstarved that day, it seemed. Luckily, Lizzie seemed quite amused by that state of his. All of a sudden, the same man who got flustered when she touched his hand, was now cuddling up to her like a needy kitten. And she didn't mind that one bit, despite the leftover bitterness that she had for him in the back of her head. "Don't leave... Please..."

"So, uh, funny story..." Pearl took a bite of a sandwich, before putting it on her plate. "A few months ago, eight or nine I think, when I went to get the new mail, I was talking with some of the psychopomps... And all of a sudden, Decar asked me, he said: 'Wouldn't you guys need some more help at that motel of yours?' And I said something like 'We wouldn't mind some help, you know... We're managing just fine, but an extra pair of hands for work would be nice...'"

"Managing just fine? Pearl, I thought you were above lying," Mumbo smirked in a joking manner.

"What was I supposed to say? That even after so many years, we still have no idea what we're doing?" She chuckled. "So, I thought he was just making fun of us, or asking a rhetorical question... So uh, fast forward all these months, and the last mail day happened. You know, the one with Lizzie's letter. You want to take it from here, girl?"

"Sure," Lizzie nodded. "When you gave me the letter, and I opened it... I, uh, wasn't sure what I was expecting. I never really believed in anything or anyone too much," She confessed, then pulled the folded letter out of her pocket. "But the letter... It was actually a job offer, believe it or not. Who would've thought, I could never get a stable job while I was alive, and then I was offered one immediately after dying..."

"A job offer..." Joel whispered, as if some sort of sacred knowledge was just revealed to him.

"Yes... As the Morgue Mound Motel's gardener. And a new horseman."

"New horseman...?" The man immediately straightened, then turned to her. "Wait, what? What do you mean? So what did you do?"

"What does it look like I did?" She smirked and booped his nose. "I needed a few days to think about it, but... This morning, I came here to talk to Bdubs and Mumbo. And tell them that I accept the offer."

"We were just as surprised as you are," Bdubs admitted. "You wish you saw Pearl's face when she returned..."

"Yep! I only remembered that conversation with Decar once Lizzie showed me the letter," Death incarnate confirmed. “So, it turns out… He arrived at the party to make sure the help they organized actually came.”

"That blummin' idiot..." Joel grumbled. Only then, the psychopomp's behavior started making so much sense in his head. He wasn't just threatening Joel to give the letter to Lizzie... He actually orchestrated, probably with some other psychopomps and members of the Council, extra help for the motel. But, in a typical psychopomp fashion, he had to be cryptic about it, and never state his reason outright. "Wait, hold on... So there's gonna be... Five horsemen now?"

"Seems so..." Bdubs hummed, leaning back on his chair. "There's Death, War, Famine, Pestilence, and..."

"Retribution." Lizzie spoke the word sharply, with pride and conviction. Joel opened his mouth, then nodded in silent agreement. Yep, that made quite a lot of sense. If he was to really think about it, the new attribute fit between the other horsemen quite well. The man silently gasped, then moved a bit closer to his friend, appreciating her closeness.

"See?" Mumbo crossed his arms. "If you just did your job, this whole mess could've been avoided, dude. And we would've gotten help much sooner."

"Oh shut up, Mumbo," Joel groaned a bit of his signature irritation returning. "Gosh, if the Council can just give us a new horseman, why can't they just kick you out for being annoying?"

"That's not a valid reason! Just be glad they didn't kick you out for the stunt you pulled!"

"Yeah, they actually didn't comment on that at all," Pearl confirmed. "I just got asked by Draco, whether we received the new help. And I was like, 'what do you mean?' Then I returned, and here she was..."

"Am I gonna look like you guys one day?" Lizzie asked. "I mean, you know, with something like horns, or a tail, or extra arms, or... Moss..."

"Probably? But it might take a while," Bdubs shrugged. "We also looked much different when this place opened. It took us a while to start resembling humans more. At first, people who came here were freaked out a bit more than they are now…"

At this point, Joel was completely out of the conversation. He kept silently staring at Lizzie, the newly appointed horseman of Retribution, and gleefully accepted any attention she gave him. Even if that meant just sitting with her, holding her hand, keeping his face buried in her shoulder. Finally, the reality of his situation clicked in his head. She wasn't going anywhere. She was going to stay right here. Where he would no longer have to be alone.

After all of the mail got sorted and the team finished their shared breakfast, Lizzie and Joel left the apartment and headed into the garden. Usually mail day meant a day off for them, but the moment the new horseman suggested to do some work outside, War agreed without hesitation. After taking all of the tools they needed, they entered the slowly healing garden and headed in the direction where fruit trees once grew. Now, they barely even resembled trees, and looked more like giant sticks poking out from the ground. 

"If we cut off the dead branches, they should start recovering soon" She commented after evaluating the state of the little orchard. "New ones will sprout from the old. The trees don't seem sick, but if any of them start showing something, we'll have to cut them down..."

"You're incredible," Joel huffed.

"Huh?" Lizzie turned to him with an amused smile. "Don't think you can just butter me up, sir. I won't forget what you did for a while."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, okay? I know, I was a stupid idiot, I shouldn't have... Wait," He paused for a second. "You’re not gonna let that go easily, are you?"

"Well, as the horseman of Retribution..." The woman smirked and booped his nose once more. "I guess I should take revenge for what you did..."

"Oh gosh..." Joel rolled his eyes. "I'm stuck with you now, aren't I?"

"You mind?"

"No, no, of course not! You're-" He reached out and took her hands. They were incredibly warm and comforting, if a little rough after working in the garden for so long. "That's... Literally the best thing that could happen. Ever."

"Really?" Lizzie smiled and turned to him once more. Their eyes met, and this time, Joel didn't shy away from making eye contact.

"Yes. I... Gosh, this is gonna sound so stupid..."

"Then let it. As long as you finally speak your mind."

"I..." Joel took a deep breath, internally cringing at how clingy he was about to become. "I know you're not gonna forgive me anytime soon, and, uh, fair, but... I'm glad that you're here. You made me the happiest I've ever been, and I... Um..." He groaned, squeezing her hands a bit tighter as he struggled to utter the words. Lizzie grinned, amused by seeing just how much he struggled. Then, an idea came to her mind. Maybe if she wanted to finally get him to speak his mind, he had to get down to his level a bit.

"Come on. Say it, you coward."

"Wha- Excuse me? I'm not a coward!"

"Yes you are. You can't even speak normally."

"Yes I can! Blummin' heck..."

"Then say it. Come on, I dare you."

"Fine, fine, geez! Here: I love you! I-" Joel silently gasped, squeezing her hands once more. He grunted as his face went red in an instant. "Well played."

"See? I know you well." Lizzie smiled, pulling him a bit closer. Their height difference wasn't big, but she had to tilt her head up a little bit to meet his eyes. "So... You mean that?"

"I... I do. I mean that." He responded quietly. 

Now that the dam finally broke, and after so many days of feeling like a wreck, there were tons of things he wanted to tell her. For the first time, he wanted to speak until he'd lose his voice. So much that eventually he would stop making any sense with what he said. If he couldn't find words to explain just how he was feeling, he’d create brand new ones just to explain how much he did, in fact, love her. He could talk for another century, and it still wouldn't feel like he said enough. But this time, he didn't have to rush. Lizzie wasn't going anywhere. She was staying right here, with all of them. And not because he forced her to do so, but because she had an opportunity, and she took it. 

"I, uh..." Joel muttered "I imagine you probably don't feel the same way... But, um..."

"How do you know? Stop assuming things about me, sir," She smirked and touched his nose one more time. "I know better what I feel than you do."

"Then... Do you...?"

"Hm? Maybe? Let me think, hm..." She made a pretty exaggerated thinking face, before finally nodding after just a few seconds of consideration. "Yeah. I think I feel the same way."

"You do?-"

"But that doesn't mean I'm not upset with what you've done. If you just did what you were supposed to, we would have this figured out a long time ago."

"I... I know. I'm sorry." Joel bowed lightly and raised her hands a little to kiss them.

"I know you are. So... I might be able to forgive you. Within the next century, or so." Lizzie smirked, then returned the kiss right to his cheek. "Now come on, we gotta get these trees growing again! We don't have the whole day!"

"I think we do, in fact," Joel replied, reluctantly letting go of her hands. Immediately, she handed him a large, sharp pruner and put up the ladder against one of the trees. "You want me to go up there?"

"Yes, please," She confirmed. "I'll stay here and tell you which branches to cut."

"You're the boss," Joel smiled before taking the first step on the ladder. 

Once he was finally on the top, he looked around. From how high he was, he could see a big part of the garden. Flowers were blooming as if it was the brightest day of spring. The paths were finally walkable again and not overgrown by bushes. He could even see a few of the residents roaming the garden and enjoying nature. The two of them already restored a big chunk of the area, but there was so much work to be done still. But Lizzie seemed just fine with it... They had time to work on it together. Neither of them were going anywhere, after all. Even if restoring the rest of the garden would take them another century, it would be worth it.