This is a prequel to my other story 'Dear Thrasher', which kind of explains it more and gives it more background. You can read them in any order though, I guess! XD

He doesn't believe it. How can he believe it? Yet the body in front of him tells him all he needs to know. His minion is gone. One-sided Thrashgrace.

Rated T: Language, morbid themes, and there's a need for an angst-proof umbrella. Sorry, guys :')

Please leave me your thoughts!

~Shego~ x

The knock on his door sounds at exactly 9:00pm, which can only mean that Thrasher has finally dragged his sorry self home or Clarabelle is visiting. He finds himself hoping it's the first one. Ever since his stupid minion got that new body he'd changed into something…different. Vaurien Scapegrace isn't really sure if he likes that or not.

He's changed too, naturally. He managed to get a new doctor that Clarabelle recommended after 'browsing' through Dr. Nye's folders at his request and his new body certainly doesn't disappoint. He's in his twenties now, with thick black hair and green eyes and a nice face. A very nice face, if he does say so himself.

He's certainly been approached by a fair number of women, not that he's overly interested. Then again, so has Thrasher, though Scapegrace would rather pretend that it's not happening. What right does Thrasher have to go out with women? Vaurien finds himself gritting his teeth at the mere thought. For some reason, he always assumed that Thrasher was, well…gay. Like him. Or maybe he's just being overly egoistic?

They'd had an argument. Again. It had been over something so pointless that Vaurien can't even remember what it had been about. In the end, Thrasher had left the house and had run off to God knows where, making a scene the whole way to possibly try and make him feel guilty. He hadn't come home since. Not that Scapegrace was worried - he wasn't. Because that was almost definitely him at the door now, back to apologise or cry. Most likely the last one.

Vaurien glances at himself in the mirror again before opening the door to find Clarabelle and struggles to hide the disappointment on his face.

"Clarabelle. Hi." He nods, folding his arms loosely as he looks her up and down. She looks…odd. Very unlike herself. Her face is pale and her mouth appears to be trembling. "What's the matter with you?"

"Scapey." She says, so softly that he can barely hear her.

He rolls his eyes, pretending he finds the nickname irritating instead of oddly endearing. "Yes?"

"Thrasher's dead."

He rolls his eyes again, leaning against the door frame. "Yeah, that joke only worked when we were zombies, Clarabelle. Do you want to come in?"

"No, Scapey, you don't get it."

"I do. Back in its day, it was hilarious. Honestly. But it's worn off slightly, considering he's -" He forcibly bit his down, the strange urge to say good-looking thankfully cancelled. "Considering he's a human again."

"Do you remember Tanith Low?" She asks, still in that soft, serious voice which is beginning to worry him.

"Oh, yes. I remember her." He straightens up with a heavy sigh. "Didn't she get possessed by a remnant?"

"Vaurien, it was her."

"What was her?" He says irritably, trying to find some way to stop this annoying conversation.

Clarabelle takes a deep breath. "She killed him. I'm not joking. I need you to listen to me. He's dead."

He blinks slowly. The air somehow isn't coming and he can feel himself choking. He's shaking his head. He can see her lips moving, but no words are coming out. What the hell is this?

"Vaurien, you need to come with me. He's…he's at the Sanctuary. Vaurien?"

This isn't right. How can it be right? He was a human again. He was young. He had life. Thrasher…Gerald…Whatever. He was just always there, some annoying yet faithful person in the background. Where was he?

"Sanctuary?" He dimly hears himself mumble. "What?"

"His…body. They've got Tanith Low's whereabouts now and Valkyrie said they were going to track her down for…for…the murder…" There are tears falling from her eyes now. Why? Why's she crying? Thrasher's not dead. He can't be.

The words are out before he can stop them. "Take me to him."

She nods slowly at him, wiping her eyes with a shaking hand. "Valkyrie said that it was for the best, so we can say goodbye."

"Shut up. Stop talking like that. You're crazy."

"I'm so sorry…"

"I'm not saying goodbye. He's going to be fine. Let me see him."

"Scapey -"

"Shut up!" He repeats forcefully, slamming the house door shut harshly behind him. "You'll see. You'll see just how wrong you all are. I'd know if he was dead! I've known him for seven years!"

"I know, Vaurien. I knew him for ages too! Do you think I'm joking? Why would I do that?" She's still crying as she struggles to keep up with him.

He turns to face her with a shake of his head. "Of course I don't think you're joking, Clarabelle. You're too nice for that. You're just wrong, that's all."

She moans, raking a hand through her vibrant blue hair. "Please, Vaurien, don't make a scene at the Sanctuary. He'd have hated that."

He ignores her. The blood is roaring in his ears as he continues to walk. The journey doesn't seem to last long - everything is kind of blurry and out-of-focus. There's no sense of time.

He can feel her arm on his and he doesn't bother to shake her off. All too soon, he realises how much he's shaking and how scared he is. He doesn't think he's ever felt so freaked-out in his life, un-dead or otherwise.

"Come on." She urges gently, "I've already seen him. They took him to Dr. Nye, but it was too late by that point. She'd stabbed him in the heart."

He wants to tell her to shut up, to stop talking about Thrasher like that, but the words aren't coming. All he can manage is an incoherent mutter as they walk through the Sanctuary doors, him keeping his head down as a force of habit.

"Through here." She murmurs, carefully leading him through a set of familiar doors to the Medical Bay and eventually stopping at a bed.

He can't look. His eyes are screwed shut and he can hear how hard his heart is beating.

There's another voice, a voice which is not welcome at all, but it's too late; Valkyrie Cain has entered.

"You can open your eyes." She says a little stiffly. "You'll have to eventually."

He does open them, to make an angry retort, to glare venomously at her, but he stops and for a moment, it feels as if his heart has too.

Thrasher is lying on the bed, his eyes closed and a peaceful expression on his face. He could be sleeping, if it weren't for the dark rosettes of blood stained on his grey jumper. His hair looks unkempt and scruffy, as always, and Vaurien swears that he's smiling. It's some sort of sick, twisted joke, possibly thought up by no other than Cain and he whirls around, his fists clenched.

"Don't look at me like that." She grouches, "It was Tanith. I'm not exactly overjoyed, you know."

Clarabelle looks as if she's struggling not to say something, which she eventually breaks as she whispers. "Valkyrie, you have to find her. Please - for me?"

Cain gives Clarabelle a singles nod and her eyes show a hint of remorse. "I will. I promise."

Clarabelle smiles shakily as she looks back at Vaurien. "He won't die in vain, ok? They'll find her."

"So?" He snarls, "So? What's that going to do? It's not going to bring him back." The words leave him before they can stop him and he is horrified at the realisation of the situation. Thrasher had gone. He'd left him.

"Well…" Cain frowns with a shrug. "I didn't think you'd be that bothered. You never liked him all that much, Scapegrace, admit it."

He loses it then. Before he knows what he's doing, he's lunged at her, roaring and swearing as he swings his fists, scratches her, desperate for her to feel just as much pain as he is. She fights back, though she's been taken by surprise so her actions aren't as good as they could be.

"Vaurien!" Clarabelle is trying to drag him away, yelling at him in a way that makes him feel cold. She's changed already. "Vaurien, STOP it! Leave her alone!"

"You BITCH!" He hollers, struggling against Clarabelle's grip as he continues to hurl abuse at the dark-haired teenager. "You have no idea! And you -" He breaks free from Clarabelle and storms towards the bed where Thrasher is lying on, "You selfish bastard! How could you just leave? Do you know what you've done, you -"

"Stop it. Stop it." Clarabelle tugs furiously at his arm. "Do you think he'd be happy with you for acting completely crazy?" Her voice cracks. "Is this the goodbye you want to give him, Vaurien? Really?"

Cain is panting heavily, wiping her bleeding cheekbone with quite an impressed look. "You've improved your punches, Scapegrace. I'll give you that."

"Valkyrie!" Clarabelle suddenly shrieks and the whole room comes to an abrupt silence. "My best friend has just died! Do you understand that? And you…you coming in here…Making Vaurien angry like that -"

She has to grace to look embarrassed. "I didn't mean - I'm sorry."

Clarabelle bits her lip. "No, I'm…I didn't mean to yell like that..."

"You're right, though." Cain says with a humourless smile. "I can be a hell of a bitch." She turns to walk back through the door and glances back, only to stare at the ceiling as she mutters, "Sorry for your loss, guys."

"Thank you." Clarabelle murmurs back as the door swings shut and she sighs, wiping her eyes a little, before turning back to Scapegrace. She even manages to smile. "Well, Scapey, I guess we told her."

He finds himself laughing a little, more out of shock than anything else as he looks back at Thrasher. He can't help but place a hand on his chest, just to make sure that there really is no beating heart. Silence.

"Sorry, Thrasher." He mutters eventually. "Didn't mean to yell at you."

There is, of course, no response. But he finds himself needing to continue, to tell him a lot of things that he never did. "So, I know how much I told you I hated you. I don't think you ever actually believed it, which is good, because I never meant it. I just need you to know that."

Clarabelle sits down in one of the chairs and doesn't say anything, which he appreciates.

"And I know how I always told you to shut up, which is weird, because I actually found your stories funny. You're generally quite a funny guy. Did you know that?" He hesitates for a moment, before saying, "You were gay, right?"

Clarabelle grins at him and gives him a small nod. "Oh, yes. Thrasher was a hundred percent gay."

He's relieved at that, not that he should really be surprised. "Good. Because I guess I always assumed that you had a thing for me. That sounds really big-headed, doesn't it? Sorry. In actual fact, it was the other way around. I kind of had a little thing for you. I hope you don't mind or hate me for that. I can't help it."

Clarabelle stands until she's next to him and kisses him on the cheek. "He wouldn't have minded. I'm pretty sure of that."

He nods and hesitantly brushes some of his hair away from his face, which is cold. So cold. He leans closer and murmurs into his ear.

"…Goodbye, Thrasher."

And even though he knows that there is no way he'll get a reply or hear his voice ever again, he still hopes that somehow, somewhere, that Thrasher can hear him.

Vaurien has never been able to get rid of him that easily, after all.