Chapter Text
Mollymauk sat in the passenger seat of Gustav’s shitty SUV, tapping his foot on the ground and trying not to broadcast his emotions to the man sitting beside him.
Not that he was falling apart or anything. Just… tense. He wasn’t sure if that was exactly right, but his friends were still being weird as hell, and it was starting to irk him. He’d expected everyone to settle down after they’d slept on whatever the fuck had happened yesterday. But no. Things had somehow gotten worse, and Molly still had no idea what the fuck was going on.
Caleb was MIA. He hadn’t eaten lunch with them today, which wasn’t especially unusual for him, but then he hadn’t come to the club meeting after school, and that was. And the Gentleman seemed to have been informed of his absence beforehand, which meant Caleb had gotten permission to skip, which meant something was pretty damn wrong with him.
On top of Caleb’s disappearance, Beau was being even more of a cagey bitch than usual. Despite Molly’s efforts to cheer her up the day before, she was moody and withdrawn. And Nott was basically silent, glancing around looking nervous the entire day. Both of them dodged his politely vague questions and practically ignored his attempts to be annoying and over-the-top for the sake of normalcy. And now he was going home for the weekend, and he wouldn’t see any of them until fucking Monday.
And Yasha still hadn’t answered his text. Which he’d sent yesterday. And that was fine because Yasha had her own life, and she was on a fun school trip with Jester and Fjord, and presumably none of them knew that the rest of the group had shattered into pieces. So, it wasn’t like she was trying to add to his stress because Yasha would never.
He just wasn’t used to her being gone, not being able to talk to her all the time. She was in almost all of his first memories, and she’d been one of the very few constants in his life since then. Always there, even before they’d gotten as close as they were. A silent, steady presence.
But she wasn’t here, and Molly was fine with that. They didn’t need to be together all the time. It was honestly probably better that she wasn’t here to see this mess, Molly reasoned. It would stress her out. She was so gentle, always worrying about everybody else. Molly inhaled and exhaled and pulled himself from his thoughts. He was alright.
“Molly,” Gustav said, maybe for the second or third time, based on the slight hint of worry in his tone.
“Hm?” Molly glanced over at the man.
“Where’s your head at, kid?” Gustav took his eyes off the road for a split second to give Molly a vaguely concerned look. “Haven’t said a word since you got in.”
“I dunno,” Molly shrugged as he brushed the remnants of his thoughts from his mind. Pulled himself to the present. “We’re back now, though.”
“Glad to hear it,” Gustav raised an eyebrow, voice mocking but fond. Molly smirked.
“How’s your day been?” Molly asked, relaxing into their dynamic. Bantering and snarky and fun.
“Let’s say uneventful,” Gustav said with a sigh. “Had another audition today, but I sucked ass, so that’s not going anywhere.”
“Love that for you,” Molly smirked, sliding down the car seat into an exaggerated lounge.
“Asshole,” Gustav chuckled, reaching a hand over to flick Molly’s shoulder as he turned into the neighborhood.
“You love me,” Molly said with more bravado than the statement really warranted. For the bit.
He glanced up at Gustav, expecting a retort. But something in the man’s eyes softened, and Molly’s stomach dropped.
“You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” Gustav said, and the moment was gone. Whatever the fuck it had been. Molly swallowed and tried to pull himself back into their banter. Like nothing had happened.
“I know,” he tried to smile, but it fell flat.
Gustav looked down at Molly briefly, clearly concerned. But he didn’t say anything, which was nice of him, really. A few moments of awkward silence passed before Gustav pulled into the driveway of his house and finally spoke.
“I work tonight, but I made dinner. Your half’s in the fridge whenever you want it.” Gustav turned off the car and got out, glancing at Molly to make sure he’d heard.
Molly nodded, hoping desperately that he didn’t look as shell-shocked as he felt.
“Yeah, alright. Thank you,” he said to try and save face. “What time?”
“I’ve got to leave pretty soon here,” Gustav held the door for Molly as they entered the house, and Molly tried not to feel uncomfortable. It was fine. It was normal.
“Gross,” Molly said, throwing as much of his snarky charm as he could muster into his words. “Sucks to suck, I guess.”
It seemed to work because Gustav laughed and gently hit the back of Molly’s head as he moved past him towards his bedroom.
“I’m going to get ready.”
Molly nodded because there wasn’t much else to do, and slowly forced himself to move towards the stairs. Nothing had happened, really. There hadn’t been a conversation. Gustav was acting like he normally did, and it was just a stupid look that Molly very likely misinterpreted. It was fine.
Molly steeled himself and jogged up the stairs, the movement pushing his thoughts aside. He entered his room, throwing his backpack into the corner, and fell onto the bed. Pulled out his phone. Looking for distractions. Bright and loud and interesting.
His lock screen revealed a continued lack of messages from Yasha. Nothing from the group chat either. Molly scoffed and unlocked his phone, smirking to himself at how disappointed he was. He never even checked the group chat, usually. Usually, it didn’t matter because he would see all their dumb asses at school, and talk to them, and make sure they were fine.
But now half the group was miles away, and the other half was falling apart over something Molly wasn’t privy to. And it wasn’t his shit to know; he respected that. He didn’t want to know. He just wanted to… He didn’t fucking know.
He sure as hell didn’t want to be sitting alone in his bedroom on a Friday night with his thoughts spinning. That could only lead to bad things. Had only ever led to bad things.
“I’m heading out!” Gustav’s voice sounded from downstairs. Right on cue, emphasizing Molly’s predicament because the world was a stage and life was a play and everything was so goddamned poetic.
“Good luck,” Molly shouted back, and he listened to the door open and close and then the house was quiet. Fuck.
Molly laid there for a moment, hearing the silence, trying to make peace with it. And then his limbs felt like they were buzzing, and he had to get up and move. Shit. Fuck. Damnit.
Molly rolled to his feet and shook his head to try and relieve some of the energy in his system. It had little effect, and his thoughts were going too fast, and Molly scrambled for his phone, quickly locating the showtunes playlist stored there and turning the volume all the way up.
His thoughts quieted ever so slightly as the songs began. Filling his mind with noise and melody and vibrance and stupid, beautiful lyrics that made him feel everything and nothing at all.
Molly started pacing, letting the noise try and drown out his racing mind. It was working, but slowly. Not fast enough. Molly shook out his hands, trying to dispel more of the excess energy. The buzzing thoughts. God, it wasn’t fucking working. Not like—
Molly stopped his brain and sat down on the edge of his bed, trying to still his racing heartbeat. No. He was alone for one night. He wasn’t going to fuck everything up because of one fucking night. He had strategies; he had systems. Granted, his strategies and systems usually involved one Yasha Nydorin, and she was definitively not here. But that didn’t mean Molly was allowed to dip into old habits. Yasha and the others had always been very, blatantly clear on that.
But he was losing his mind. Trapped in this house alone, with his music playing, and his thoughts playing louder and faster and worse.
Molly’s phone buzzed, and he jumped at it like a predator, a smile already halfway formed on his face. He didn’t even care if it was Yasha or one of the others. Fuck, even Beau would be a Godsend right now. He just needed someone to talk to, to make him feel real.
Molly’s smile faltered the moment he read the name, relief catching in his throat. What?
[Cree] 6:49- Hey Lucien, it’s been a minute, you doing anything rn?
He hadn’t spoken to Cree in, God, years now. He’d started getting closer to Yasha, and Cree and the others had just kind of fallen away when Molly got to Zadash High. Which was probably for the best, Molly admitted. They were… messy.
Which brought him to the question of why Cree was texting him after years of radio silence. Almost certainly, she needed something from him. So, very likely, it was a bad idea to message her back.
But Molly’s brain was still buzzing, and this was the most interesting thing happening in his life right now. It gave him something to focus on. To think about, to do. He typed his reply, hushing the voice in the back of his head that told him it was a mistake. He would be fine; he just had to be careful.
6:53- Not really, why?
[Cree] 6:53- Does there have to be a reason?
Molly smirked. He’d forgotten how full of shit she was. Snarky and scheming, like Beau sort of, but with more venom in her bite. He remembered this; he could still play this game.
6:54- With you, darling? Always
[Cree] 6:54- Smart ass
6:54- Thank you~
[Cree] 6:54- Don’t be a dick man, we miss you
An obvious lie. But her statement did reveal that Cree wasn’t alone; she was with the whole group, assuming everyone was still in contact. Which meant they were probably looking for drugs or drink or anything else they could get their hands on. Hm.
6:54- What can I do for you, Cree?
[Cree] 6:55- Just come hang out with ussssss, why are you being so weird??
Molly was tempted. He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t. Cree and the others were a riot, large and loud and distracting. And if he swooped in with something to get them shit-faced, he would be their fucking hero. Just like before.
And Gustav had to have at least something; it would go against everything Molly knew about the man if he didn’t. He could root around in Gustav’s room, take a little of whatever he found. Go shoot the shit with his old group for a night.
And then tomorrow, he could message Beau and Nott and Caleb, and Yasha would text him back and everything could go back to normal.
6:57- Yeah alright. Get your asses over here and pick me up, I still can’t drive
[Cree] 6:57- Learn to drive you dumbass
[Cree] 6:57- That deadbeat actor give you back yet?
Molly’s stomach dropped ever so slightly. He liked Gustav. He tried to shake off the dirty feeling in his stomach.
6:59- Not yet
[Cree] 6:59- We’ll be there in 20
Molly grinned and pushed himself off his bed, thundering down the stairs, music still blaring from his phone. He got to Gustav’s room and pushed open the door. Paused.
Gustav would kick him out if he found out Molly was rooting around in his shit. But Gustav was going to kick him out at some point anyways. Molly had hoped it would last a little longer, and maybe it would. Maybe Gustav wouldn’t find out for a while. Regardless, Molly getting sent back to the home was inevitable. Expediting the process wasn’t his favorite, but he would survive.
Molly stepped inside and started searching through drawers and dressers, trying not to displace anything too heavily. Eventually, he found what he sought. A small bag, hidden in the back of Gustav’s sock drawer. Score. Molly didn’t even particularly care what it was. If Gustav had it, it couldn’t be too dangerous. Molly pocketed the bag, and pushed the socks back into place, closing the drawer and exiting the room.
Fuck yeah.
He moved towards the kitchen. He should eat whatever was in the fridge or Gustav would suspect something. Would know Molly hadn’t been at home the whole night. Molly slid on socked feet, stopping in front of the fridge and opening it. He looked around, trying to find something that Gustav constituted as dinner. Eventually, he came across a Tupperware with some weird looking casserole. Had to be that.
Molly spun around on beat to his music and placed the Tupperware in the microwave. He hopped up on the counter, and kicked his feet against the cabinet, watching as the food spun.
There was another moment where his brain tried to convince him that what he was doing was a bad idea, but he ignored that. It was going to be fun. And harmless, as long as Molly was careful.
He pulled the Tupperware out of the microwave, grabbing a fork and shoving a bite of probably shitty casserole into his mouth. He inhaled deeply and swallowed. Yep, it was real bad.
Gustav was a lot of things, but he was definitively not a cook. The man barely cooked for himself—barely did anything for himself, truth be told. But every so often he’d emerge from the kitchen looking all fucking proud of himself and force Molly to try whatever the hell he’d made. And Molly didn’t have the heart to tell him it was shit. Because Gustav probably knew it was shit, and that wasn’t really the point of any of it.
A fond smile found its way to Molly’s face, bringing another twinge of uncertainty with it. He pushed it away, hopping down from the counter and dumping the casserole down the garbage disposal. There. Tracks covered.
Now he just had to be back by like 3:00 in the morning, before Gustav got home, and he would be golden.
He spent the next twenty minutes pacing the bottom floor of the house, listening to his music and anticipating Cree’s arrival. Finally, after what felt like years, there was a knock at the door.
It was fast and loud and excited, and a smile spread slowly across Molly’s face at the prospect of seeing his old friends again. He ran to the door and threw it open, and then Cree was on top of him, crushing him in a hug. Molly let out a laugh and picked her up, spinning her once, adrenaline pumping. It was good to see her. Good to have company. Good to be held, good to be excited, good to feel a little more whole.
After several moments, Molly pushed Cree off of him and looked at her. He hadn’t seen her in years, but she looked the same. Worryingly thin with deep brown skin, and hair cropped close to her skull. She had the same singular gold earring and the same maroon hoodie she would never grow into. She looked older, obviously. Maybe a bit more tired. But familiar in a way that quieted Molly’s twisting thoughts.
She seemed to be taking him in as well. She pulled at his hair and Molly winced for dramatic effect. “You grew this out,” she said. There was no judgement in her tone, just observation. “I like the purple.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Molly bowed.
“Dumbass,” she laughed, pulling him out of the house towards the small car waiting in the driveway. “We’re out of seats, so start deciding who you want to sit on.”
“You already know I’m gunna crush Otis,” Molly said with a smirk, locking the door behind them with the key Gustav had given him last month. He felt a little bad already using the key to sneak out, but honestly, what was Gustav expecting? Molly was a troubled foster kid. This was kind of the M.O.
He pushed the guilt from his mind and focused on the night ahead of him.
As they approached the car, he could hear the rest of the group start chanting his old name from inside, pounding on the roof. Molly laughed, and runway-strutted towards the car.
“Hello again, peasants,” he said, opening one of the back doors of the car. “Your king has returned to you.”