I wasn't gonna do it

I told my one friend who'd asked that I wasn't gonna do it

I was perfectly happy to let 'Parti Pris' be a stand alone piece of work

Then the S4 finale of Puppet History aired and the last five minutes I'm like "oh my god, my little story is mostly right?" and about a week or so later, I'm looking at some fan art and I'm like "am I really thinking of joining the post-S4 Puppet History bandwagon but in written form?"

Yes. Yes I am apparently lol

I haven't read any other post-S4 finale fanfics. So, if there are any similarities between my story and any others, it is pure 100% coincidence, I promise you

Again, I am not associated with the Watcher company at all, nor do I know any of the people there in real or internet life

Contains spoilers for the season 4 finale of Puppet History (series finale? I kinda feel like it's that now)

Enjoy

~Shaymandy

Ryan carefully shut the front door to his apartment with barely a sound and placed his keys on the side table. Leaning against the door, he heaved a heavy sigh before looking at his coffee table, at a small trophy.

He stared at it for a long while before releasing another sigh.

"I've done it."

The office held a small memorial for the Professor a couple days afterwards. Ryan hadn't been officially invited; he'd stayed in the hallway, out of sight.

"Ryan, thanks for doing your part."

Barely anyone in the Watcher office had communicated with Ryan the past few weeks. If they did, it was always about business and very brief. He hadn't held a long-form conversation about anything non-work related since before the Incident and Ryan had never felt lonelier.

"Wait, the Professor's going to be all right though, right? You said he was gonna be okay."

Shane completely stopped talking to Ryan. He had viewed the Professor as almost like a son and so had taken to the silent treatment, visibly tensing his jaw and radiating vibes of anger and upset whenever he was within Ryan's vicinity.

Ryan hadn't realized how angry Shane could be—or how much he'd miss their off-the-wall banter and endless hours of talking until it was gone.

"Pro tip though, maybe don't trust the fucking Devil!"

He hadn't interacted much with Sara since the Incident, but every time she was around, he felt her gaze boring into his soul. Much like how a disappointed mother scolding her child felt.

"Well, Ryan, it looks like you've got your little trophy."

He'd made a career around ghosts and demons, knew all about them. Knew better than to make a deal with the literal Devil. Yet he still had made that deal. That stupid deal.

All for a piece of plastic.

"Yeah, I guess I did."

Ryan sat on his couch, eyeing the History Master trophy for a moment before reaching out to grab it. He held the tiny object in the palm of his hand, lost in his mind.

"And what did it cost?"

He closed his eyes as his grip tightened on the trophy.

"Everything."

He chucked the trophy across his living room and buried his face into his hands, hearing the cheap plastic easily break into two.

Fuck.