Chapter 21

"So give me the fevers that just won't break

And give me the children you don't want to raise

Tell me about the Cool, he sings to you in those songs

If it's better than my love, then bring it on."

It took a long time for the shaking and the wailing to subside. In that time, Todd's parents came (reluctantly) to pick him up, and Tenna and Devi moped around as Edgar tried to pry Gaz and Johnny apart.

"I'm sorry," Johnny said to her, achingly genuine, and Edgar understood that Johnny and Gaz shared something now that he could never understand. They'd both had that corrupting darkness forced inside of them, a darkness that naive Edgar couldn't see even though he leaked it too. He felt dumb and useless but gathered Gaz up anyway and went to tuck her into bed.

The link between her and Moopy had been violently broken, and it showed in gashes on her face and hands that by then had stopped bleeding but still shown red and angry. He dabbed carefully at each one with a washrag soaked in antiseptic and wanted to swallow the bottle each time she winced.

"I know it hurts. I'm almost done."

Gaz did not answer. She only twisted her comforter in her little fingers, staring anywhere but at him.

"Bactine doesn't hurt as much," Johnny said, from his post at the door frame. He was leaning against the chipped wood and carefully avoiding all the jutting splinters.

"I don't have any Bactine. Just peroxide."

"We should get some next time we're at the store."

"Sure."

Gaz leaned away from him when he came at her with the cloth again, done with this impromptu nursing. Her eye twitched as the cut across her cheek must have flared up, but she stayed quiet and unfocused.

"Do you feel okay?" Edgar asked her, even though she obviously wasn't. He was just desperate to hear her speak.

"No," she said.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No."

"What would you like? What would make you feel better?"

"Sleeping."

Edgar did not feel like he could argue with her, so he put the cap back on the bottle and draped the cloth over top and tried very hard not to sigh.

"Would you like for me to stay in here with you until you fall asleep?"

Gaz hesitated, her mouth hanging open as her fingers twitched for a stuffed animal that was dead and gone and evil, and finally she said "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The feeling of uselessness made him ache, almost as much as the notion of leaving her alone. Johnny coughed from the doorway and Edgar knew that he was fussing for his own sake more than Gaz's.

"Okay. Johnny and I will be out in the apartment. Please yell if you need something, alright?"

She only grunted. Out of habit he leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, said "I love you," and wondered for an instant if this was exactly what was ruining her. This contact, this caring, this proximity. Was he so corrupted that love was all it took to spread his darkness?

All he was doing was existing, but that was more than the universe wanted. Was he supposed to resent being alive?

Edgar winced his eyes shut and got to his feet. It took him ages to turn his back on her and join Johnny by the door. Nny scooted out into the hall as Edgar half-closed the door, unwilling to latch anything shut ever again. Plus the lock to Gaz's door was half-busted now and he doubted it would close all the way anyway.

Johnny followed him closely into the kitchen, within two feet the whole time, and said nothing until Edgar started putting his coat on.

"What the hell? Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to step outside for a second. Get some fresh air. I feel like I've been inside for days."

"But-"

"It'll be okay. You don't have to come with me."

But Johnny clearly did not want to be left alone, and Gaz would be alright for five minutes or so, so he clung to Edgar's shadow as they slipped out onto the walkway that linked all the apartments in Edgar's building together. It overlooked a little courtyard, lined with half-dead shrubs and children's abandoned toys and empty beer bottles, of course. Edgar had never been particularly proud of where he lived, until moments like this when his tiny little life had been torn asunder, and suddenly all this shitty Americana felt soothing.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his inner coat pocket and had one lit before Johnny seemed to notice what he was doing.

"What the fuck!?" he yelped.

Edgar took a drag on his first cigarette in years and years and felt his chronic nervous jitteryness settle. It tasted bitter and foul but still comforting, and for a long time he considered not answering Nny.

"Nothing. I'm just going to have one."

"Since when do you smoke?!" Johnny said, making no effort to hide his disgust.

"I've always smoked."

"Bullshit. I've never seen you smoke before."

"I quit after college. They say it kills you." Something about this bitter day and the ruined, aborted birthday party was bringing snark out in him something awful.

"This is a fucking time to start again."

"Yeah, well, our daughter's possessed by the forces of darkness, they make Dorito tacos, I'm having a smoke. It's a wacky world."

Edgar saw Johnny cringe at the world "wacky," in between glaring at him and his cigarette, but there were other things in his life right now that bothered him more. He took another drag and savored the biting cancer taste before blowing it out carefully over the banister and into the courtyard. They were on the second story.

He watched the smoke disintegrate and felt like his world was going with it.

"What are we going to do?" he asked, rolling the cigarette between his fingers.

Johnny was quiet for a long time, staring at the spot where the smoke had disappeared. Just when Edgar thought that he'd have to ask again, Johnny spoke.

"About what?"

Edgar wished he wouldn't have waited. He pulled on his cigarette again.

"About Gaz. I mean, she seems better now that Moopy's gone - and I admit I don't know much about how this whole system works - but it seems inevitable that bad things will start happening again, doesn't it?"

The glow of Edgar's cigarette reflected like a little red coal in Johnny's wide and shiny eyes. He refused to blink.

"...Yes. I suppose it is inevitable. He made it very clear that our essence is all it takes to destroy something." Johnny's voice was cold, and his gaze drifted away with his face twisted up in disgust that Edgar hoped had nothing to do with his smoking.

"Some dads we are, huh? An ex Waste-lock and a glitch. They probably have laws against people like us adopting in most states," Edgar said, a dry laugh hovering around his lips. Johnny's stiff expression did not change.

"We didn't adopt her. She's ours."

"Exactly my point. Just the act of being ours is hurting her."

As if he hadn't thought of that, Johnny knotted up his bony hands in agitation. He leaned hard over the edge of the walkway and watched Edgar's ash as he tapped it and let it fall to the ground.

The reality of the situation was starting to stew around in Edgar's head, but he wasn't sure if Johnny realized it yet.

"We dealt with it this time. We can deal with it again, whenever it happens. Those fuckers are tough and strong and clever, but we can always one-up them. I did. Devi did. Gaz is hardcore enough. We've just got to plan for it," Johnny said.

The tar and heat of the cigarette was beginning to stir up some nausea in Edgar's stomach, along with the conversation, but he tried to cough it down.

"You and Devi were adults. You understood what was happening, however vaguely. It will keep getting worse, won't it?"

Johnny didn't look up, didn't blink, but said stiffly: "Yes."

"And there's not much we can do about it, is there?"

"There are things even more powerful than your so-called God, Edgar. I've seen them. And, yeah, the waste-lock system is one of them. So I'd say fucking no, there's nothing we can do."

"You see what I'm getting at, Johnny? I'm just afraid..."

"What? Spit it out, man. Tell me what the fuck you're trying to get at here. It's not like I'll kill you for being honest." Johnny gave a crooked smile that did little to make Edgar braver, but he continued on nonetheless.

"That just doesn't seem like much of a childhood to me. Always at the brink of darkness. You remember what it was like, don't you? You went through the same thing. It drove you to suicide."

With a soft snap, Johnny twisted to stare at him.

"How did you know about that?!"

"You told me, Johnny. A few months ago, remember? We stayed up watching Casserole Carnage?"

"...Right."

"I suppose my point is..."

"Yeah?"

"...That it's not really fair of us to force Gaz to go through this over and over again, when we know full well that we're the ones causing it. It's cruel and selfish." Edgar hated that these were his words. He hated where it was going. He hated being responsible, sensible, mature, always the one making the un-fun calls for the sake of safety and sanity and god, how he envied Johnny and his madness at times like this.

"Then what are you suggesting, Edgar?" Johnny was looking at him, scrutinizing, with a dissecting gaze not unlike the way he'd looked at him - how long had it been? - back so long ago in that basement with steel between them. Before pulling the lever and breaking Edgar to pieces, that is, which up until a few hours ago he'd always thought he'd avoided. Apparently not.

Edgar's luck had been even worse than he'd realized all this time.

"I think...I think we may have to give her up."

The look that Johnny gave him was piercing. It had been a long, long time since Edgar had been afraid of Nny, but there was something in his twitching fingers and white-roving stare that did not look like a friend anymore. It looked like a madman, which is what Johnny was, which is how they'd gotten into this situation in the first place.

"No," he said, with biting simplicity.

"Nny, let me -"

"No!" Johnny swung his hand and smashed the stubby remains of the cigarette out of Edgar's hands, leaving his fingers stinging. "How could you ever - what the fuck is the matter with you?!"

Edgar felt himself shrink back, away from the sudden rage. It was supposed - he'd thought - that it would be an easy sell for Johnny, Johnny the perpetually unstable, Johnny the psychopath, Johnny who prided himself on his false coldness.

It had been false all along, Edgar thought.

"Do you think I like the idea?" he snapped, feeling the need to protect his hurt with vehemence and wondering if he'd known Johnny too long, now. "Do you think I want that?! That is the last. Thing. I. Want."

"Then why would you -"

"Because we don't always get a choice, Johnny."

"Fuck that. And fuck you for giving up again."

Edgar felt his temper flare, his being start to click as it neared the breaking point, but he held still. It was a relief that they were at least outside to have this argument, instead of indoors where Gaz might hear them. He slid one hand under his glasses and pressed against his eyes.

"This isn't about giving up. It's about deciding not to be selfish. And I'm starting to wonder if it wouldn't be selfish to keep her around, especially if we know we're hurting her."

"Maybe I've earned the right to be selfish," Johnny breathed, tangling his fingers up in his hair. "All this bullshit, all this hurt, all this drama, all this angst. Why aren't I allowed to be happy, Edgar?!"

Edgar sighed, hard, and felt wetness in his hands. "I don't know. I don't know. For the same reasons I have to be alone, I assume."

They were quiet for a long time, long enough that Edgar thought a few times about lighting another cigarette or going back inside because he didn't like to leave Gaz alone. Beside him Johnny was clawing at his arms or picking, hard, at his fingernails or otherwise finding ways to destroy himself. Edgar was used to telling him to stop, but didn't have the energy right now. He didn't have the energy to be the dad, to be the responsible adult, to fall into the role that had become so comforting and friendly to him over the past year.

It was suffocating him now. Pushing in on all sides. "Do the right thing, Edgar," it said, and Edgar did not want to. He wanted to be a selfish screaming hedonist child but knew that the pangs of guilt would destroy him, as they'd nearly done before. So instead he sat quietly in limbo, leaning on the railing outside of the apartment that had become his whole world, and tried not to think about hurling himself over the edge.

Perhaps it would have been easier if he'd stayed dead.

"If...if we did..." Johnny was the first to break the silence, in between sucking at his bloody cuticles. "I mean, where...there's not really, like, a pound for unwanted kids, is there?"

"She'll never be unwanted!" Edgar snapped, and felt instantly guilty at his rage over semantics, especially at the stunned look on Johnny's face.

"I know."

"I'm sorry. And I don't know what we would do. There is a pound for unwanted children, and I've been through it. Not again."

"It's too bad," Johnny said, picking a scab on his elbow, "That you don't have any non-shit relatives. Vargas-blood seems pretty reliable. Well, beyond it's wall-feeding ability, that is."

Edgar did not find this funny, and so ignored it. "I know. If Abby was still here, we could -"

He shook his head and cleared his mind of impossible thoughts that ached.

"Nevermind. I don't know what I was..." The thought fell apart, but the idea remained, anemic though it was. He kicked an idea around, decided they had nothing to lose, and finally said: "What about your brother, Nny?"

Johnny ripped the scab clean off and did not wince at the pain or trickle of blood that came with it.

"What!?"

"Your brother," Edgar repeated. "Roger, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yeah, yeah. The brother from my first life. The brother I don't remember. He only exists in photographs, as far as I'm concerned. Less real than the fucking voices in my head."

"He is real, though, Johnny. I've seen pictures of him. He's real and has a son. And a blood relative of yours can't be all bad," Edgar said, letting himself smile the slightest bit and then feeling foolish as Johnny stared stone-faced back at him.

"We have no way to contact him," Johnny muttered.

"I've got a phonebook. It's the twentieth century. You can get a hold of anyone if you really try."

"You're very nonchalant about all this."

"No, I'm not. I'm just very good at shutting off my want."

"I'm envious."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

At this Johnny snickered, although there was precious little to laugh about. You took what you could get, in moments like this, in a rare touch of solidarity when the moon shone coldly overhead and going back inside meant, to Edgar, returning to the ruins of his life which had been so happy and simple only six hours ago. There were things to be dealt with now. Things which would hurt.

Edgar let his smile fade away as he sighed, cast one final look over the guardrail, and turned to go back inside.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

They found Johnny's brother's address, after a bit of searching through wafer-thin phonebook pages. Edgar wrote it down on a sticky note and carried it around in his pockets for several days of awkward, silent dinners and the TV blaring nonstop because the silence of knowing made them all sick.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Gaz asked him, clinging to a stuffed otter that Nny had inspected for demonic possession and found acceptable. She needed some kind of lovey, still.

"What do you mean?"

"You're acting mad."

Edgar glanced over to Johnny, who was all hunched shoulders and crossed arms clinging to elbows. Days ago Nny had stopped making eye contact with him under any circumstance, and was staring at the floor. He could see why Gaz would be bothered by all of this; they were not hiding their upset very well.

Sighing, Edgar traced a strand of her hair behind her ear. Gaz flinched. "We're not mad. Just stressed out."

"About what?"

Choke.

"Grown up things."

"Oh. Can I play video games?"

"Of course."

She left them, oblivious and innocent and leaving Edgar unsure of who was most envious in this whole clusterfuck. For a long time he watched her pound buttons on Super Sewage Brothers, until she lost three lives in a boss battle.

Her shadow cast on the carpet flickered black-purple-green before returning to its standard grey. She growled in frustration at the uncooperative game and Edgar knew, he knew and hated, that he saw the tiniest shift of black in the air around her.

There was a loud shifting of chairs behind him, the sound of wood scraping tile and an angry, snarling huff as Johnny got to his feet and stormed out of the kitchen.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Edgar packed Gaz's things. He folded them carefully into cardboard boxes, wrapped every precious toy and knicknack in bubble wrap that had to be fought out of Johnny and Gaz's hands. When he came to the little art projects, the crayon drawings coating the fridge and the macaroni necklaces saved here and there, he balked.

Those he left where they were. Gaz would not need them, but Edgar was certain that he would.

The last thing he packed was Johnny's Nintendo. He did not bother asking Nny if he still wanted it, which was in retrospect a little obtuse of him. He just shoved it down into the very last cardboard box (there were only two) and shifted it into the trunk of the Volvo as Gaz and Johnny watched from the sidewalk.

Gaz had her little hand latched around Johnny's and it was nearly lost in his long, skeletal fingers. They were trading a lollipop back and forth which Edgar found disgusting but did not have the heart to scold them over, so he finally just said:

"Okay, I think we're all set." He resented the casual tone that came out of his mouth.

"For what?" Gaz wanted to know.

"Yeah, Edgar. For what?" Johnny was the one questioning this time. He popped the lollipop out of his mouth and gave it one final lick before handing it off to Gaz, and Edgar had to look away before he saw her stick that wad of germs into her mouth.

"Gaz, you might have to stay with a relative of Johnny's for a while. We're just going to go see him, that's all," Edgar choked.

"But I don't want -"

"I know. Get in the car and put on your seat belt, please."

They piled in, amidst the clicking of buckles and the soft roar of the engine as it sputtered to life even among Edgar's wishing that the battery would be dead and they'd have to put this off until another day. Johnny did not look at him, did not talk, and just stared out the window of the passenger's seat as they drove. Behind them, in the middle seat where she always sat so that she'd be equidistant between them, Gaz sucked loudly on her filthy lollipop and did not ask anymore questions.

The house was in a wealthier part of town, in a tidy suburb with picket fences and purebred dogs barking behind them. This relieved Edgar the slightest bit, until they located the house itself. He checked the address several times before actually parking at the end of the cul-de-sac and allowing himself a good look at the house that Johnny's brother Roger supposedly occupied.

It did not match any of the other houses. This one was tall and narrow, with a strange rounded roof and what looked like metal paneling instead of wood or plastic. The yard was protected by a sparking steel fence, and the windows of the place were round.

Round!

Edgar had never seen a house that looked more like a spaceship. He was surprised that the suburb allowed this sort of mismatching architecture.

"Do you think-?" he started.

"This is it," Johnny said, with absolute certainty as he started to get out of the car. "Any brother of mine isn't going to live a normal house."

Edgar supposed that this was true. He turned to Gaz, who was still safely buckled in place and was glaring suspiciously at the futuristic house.

"Johnny says that this is it. Do you suppose he's right?"

"If Nny says so," she said, voice solid with trust, and she unbuckled herself and soon joined Johnny on the sidewalk. Edgar followed them, and the three of them huddled together on the shiny white concrete in the corner of the posh neighborhood and stared up at the gleaming tower of Roger's freakish house.

Together, Edgar thought.

He took Gaz by the hand, looked at Johnny and jerked his head toward the building, and approached the front door.

Lyrics at the top credit to the Gaslight Anthem and their song "Bring it On" which has always been one of the main themes of this story, as much as one can exist. I've even got a playlist for it on my iTunes. Might need to share that sometime.

Anyway, I remember this chapter being fun to write because I got to just go for "totally unbridled angst." Hope ya'll are ready for more of that. Hopefully it's becoming apparent what's going to happen, plot and canon-wise. Still a little more story to come. It's not really going to be happy, per se, but I hope there will at least be something resembling closure.

Tune in next time!