˜"*°•.˜"*°•Day 6– Day 7•°*"˜.•°*"˜
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𝗞𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸, 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝘁
𝗦𝗼 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝘁, 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝘁, 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁
𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝘁 𝗮 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲, 𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗻
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~.~.~.~
Day 6

It was strange, to say the least, at Gleeful Manor the following day. Macey had to watch as the Horsemen introduced themselves to her aunt and uncle and even her mom, and even a more formal introduction to those who actually met them prior.

But, because they were Char's North Caldwell family, they were immediately accepted.

Uncle Jenson was chatting with Delmira, who Macey discovered was the oldest, about weirdo stock market things that Macey couldn't begin to comprehend. Aunt Mabel had taken up with Felix, who was the youngest, and was chatting about Freud or something. And even her mom was easily befriending the short girl named Wanda.

Yet, the adults still had no clue about Char's injury. Macey got the PG-13 version of the whole story, and it left her reeling.

It was considerate of him, he explained himself to her, Vicky, and Wes all one-on-one. And, despite the slight wince when he moved his arm, he seemed to be fairing much better. Thank you, Dr. Marsden.

The only Marsden on the premise was Kai, who was happily chatting with the adults and the newcomers. Howell had left hours ago.

Everything was back to normal. As normal as the Gleeful-von Kaiser/Southeast household could be. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she patted Brutus gently, her ease comforting him.

The only odd thing was that Char and Vicky left to go somewhere together, and they didn't take the charger. They went in Vicky's stylish Porsche, but Char kept in touch.

So, everything was okay.

"Mind if I sit?"

Macey blinked and noticed the tall Delmira standing off to the side, her eyes calm as the night sky. With a slight nod, she made space for Delmira on the couch.

She settled in easily, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "So, you must be Macey, correct? We've heard a bit about you."

A quizzical look crossed Macey's features, and she tried to raise a brow. "You have?"

Delmira nodded. "Yes. You're an extension of Char's familial network, of course we've heard about you."

The woman before her was strange. All her words were calm and precise and clinical. But there was an odd sense of comfort that Macey felt amongst all that.

"Char's a lucky guy." Delmira continued at Macey's silence. "Most of us. . .all we've got is each other," she cast her eyes toward the two others, her features softening. "But him? He has all of you to watch out for him. You all mean the world to him."

There was a certain loneliness that was layered between her words, something a bit forlorn, too. Macey just gave her a small smile. "You guys can have us, too." She declared, and then pointed to her relatives. "I mean, my aunt's already accepted you guys as family. You'll be just as welcome as Char is."

"You're a bright girl, Macey." Delmira concluded, and apparently Macey's smile was infectious, because she smiled too.

From inside her pocket, Macey felt her phone buzz. She took a moment to glance at it and she froze.

Vicks VapoRub⚡️: [image]
Vicks VapoRub⚡️: don't tell the parents
Vicks VapoRub ⚡️: char and i got you a hamster <3

Everything was great.

~.~.~.~
Day 6

        He left the following morning, just as he'd promised he would. Now, alone in his estate, Howell tidied up the minuscule things that he hadn't done the day prior.

        Now that everything had been resolved, Howell could go about his regular and average life once again. Without all the heart-racing excitement that had been introduced to him the past week. It suited him just fine.

        He'd already been victim to three near heart attacks, so Howell was happy to return to normalcy.

        Everything was finished. No more Crimson Devils, no more Dan Valentino, no more Horsemen, and no more Char.

        Or so he thought.

        Because as he meandered through his estate, he caught a glimpse of someone standing in the sitting room. Someone with an injured shoulder, and autumn-coloured hair.

        "You know it is customary to wait to be invited inside." Howell murmured, hardly slowing his pace. There was no reason to have pleasant conversation with him now. Howell had said all he had to say, anything further would just remind him of what he couldn't have.

        However, coming here to gloat was very unlike Char. He wasn't cruel. So, why was he even here to begin with? To thank him? Great.

        "At least you know I'm not a vampire now." Char's voice followed him down the hall. "Unless it's Lost Boys⁴⁵."

        "The contradictions in that movie were a pain to sit through." Howell sighed and swiftly turned into his sitting room. The house itself was still alight with the colours of the beginning of a sunset, yet Howell felt a chill race through his body. He still didn't know why Char was there. He ought to find out.

        He dusted the tabletops and adjusted a few things that lingered out of place, but Char's silence followed him like a corporeal shadow, its fingers gently grazing his soul.

        "Why did you come here?" He finally managed to say, directing Char to the couch. "Surely we've nothing more to say to one another?"

        There was a flash of pain that splashed across Char's face, but it could've come from the pain in his shoulder. Right?

        "I owe you an explanation." Char stated firmly, his resolve unyielding. He held Howell's gaze, and it pained Howell to notice the softness in those deep-sea eyes.

        He couldn't let the tide pull him in. "Damn right, you do." He muttered and turned to glance toward the kitchen. "Liquid courage?"

        "No."

        That shocked him. Char was going to give him a full explanation and wasn't going to use alcohol to get himself started?

        Then, he took notice of the bandage across Char's cheek. Disastrous slash that ran from his lower cheek down to his jaw. "That needs to be changed." He murmured, gesturing to the closest bathroom.

        Char followed him rather obediently to the destination, and hopped onto the counter with a rather pensive look across his features. The very same features that Howell had memorised a million times, mapped them out in his head.

        He took the first aid kit out from its place under the sink and began riffling through the assorted items kept inside. "Explain." He said as he grabbed a few small cotton pads and the bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

        "I had a feeling about what I was getting into before I arranged to come here."

        As soon as Char spoke, Howell tore the bandage off.

        "Motherfu—!" Char exclaimed and used his right hand to rub the skin around the wound. "Okay, I'll be more delicate if you promise to be more delicate!"

        Howell let out a humph. Was that what he expected to hear? Absolutely. Did he want to hear that? Not at all. He tossed the soiled bandage into the waste bin and began to pour a small amount of hydrogen peroxide onto one of the cotton pads.

        "Valentino was a name I'd heard a few times over the years, and then I figured out that my mom had been forced to work for him." Char continued, wincing every so often. In anticipation of the hydrogen peroxide, or his shoulder acting up? "After I found that out, I spent the next year and a half trying to locate the man. With help from Delmira, we tracked a few minor crime syndicates and kept a wary eye to see if Valentino's name would pop up. The Crimson Devils were the closest we ever got."

        Instead of warning him that the hydrogen peroxide might sting, Howell wiped the gash across Char's chin swiftly, already leaning back on his heels to get out of Char lashed out.

        Char let out a quiet gasp of pain and unconsciously leaned away from it. After the wince subsided, he met Howell's eyes with scrutiny. "You're enjoying this more than you should."

        "Perhaps a little." Howell muttered, still peeved at the explanation he was getting. "Continue." He ordered as he inspected the wound closely.

        It didn't look nearly as bad as it had when Howell initially saw it. But, then again, the first time he saw it it was leaking blood everywhere. It shouldn't have been a surprise that it looked better without the excess blood.

        "So, the plan was to do what we usually do; get an in, work our way through with paranoia and threats, and stage the coup." Char continued, the words practically dripping from his lips, like he'd taken a vial of sodium pentathol.

        "However." Howell urged with a small wave of his hand. He knew there was a huge 'however' coming up at the conclusion of his sentence.

        "However," Char drew the word out and fixed Howell with the weakest glare. "I didn't anticipate Vicky speeding the process up. If she hadn't gone to The Tomb, though, the night she had, I might've not come back alive."

        In moments of fleeting passion, Howell often found himself comparing Char to a phoenix. That, no matter if he was close to death, he would always come back to life. In fewer moments, he scarcely believed that Char Valiant could actually die. The past few days, however, drastically changed Howell's perspective.

        "So, I had to keep working as if nothing were amiss." Char continued with a heavy sigh. His form relaxed when Howell put the bottle of hydrogen peroxide away. Not so formidable, after all. "I became too absorbed with seeing it through, for the sake of keeping Kai and Vicky safe, and for my own personal reasons, that I just continued with the plan, albeit, changing the play a bit."

        As Char continued his explanation, which lasted a whole ten minutes, Howell busied himself with dressing the wound. He was correct in his initial observation; it was superficial, but there would likely be a faint scar.

        After he was finished with his work, he just leaned against the door, nodding at the remainder of Char's explanation.

        When it was over, Howell inhaled softly and adjusted his glasses. "Is there anything else?"

        "Dan Valentino is my grandfather."

        That required an additional ten minutes of explanation alone, with Howell not all the way hearing everything. Char Valiant, Char Valentino. Same, but different. His mind was still reeling with all the information that Char had willingly given him, that this was the straw that broke the camel's back.

        "That," Char spoke, but there was a certain wavering of his voice that gave way to his weariness and uncertainty, and he kept fiddling with something in his pocket. "That is everything I knew, and everything I currently know."

        Howell just sighed, but neither of them left the bathroom. Because there was still something else. Of course there was. "And. . ?" He prompted, worry gnawing its way to his heart.

        Char let out a low groan, his eyes looking everywhere except Howell. "And. . .these past few days have shown me how much I need to keep the ones I care about safe. That. . .that my life matters to others."

        At that phrase, Howell froze in place. Every sound in the room intensified in a split second. The hum of the electricity was blaring in his ears like a siren, the sound of their breathing replacing the sound of his pulse in his ear. In other words, his mind was as clear as a traffic jam.

        "At least," Char scratched at the back of his neck with an uncharacteristically nervous air about him, "at least I think it does."

        Howell let down his pretences, let them all fall down until they were nothing more than ash scattered on the floor. "It does." Was all he could manage to say. He told himself he wouldn't fall in, but he couldn't hold on for much longer.

        All he could think about were the happy memories. Shakespeare, dancing in the kitchen when the sun began to rise, the love that he was sure they both felt.

        Every happy memory that glowed brighter than any star in the sky.

        He knew he wasn't over it, he figured that out the other day and it rattled him. But now, now he knew he wasn't over it, and he didn't want to let it go. And. . .maybe he wouldn't have to.

        "You do." He amended, knowing that this was as difficult for Char as it was for him. He figured he didn't have to elaborate, for Char could read between Morse code lines with his eyes closed. Even if he wanted to explain what his words meant, Howell found that the words wouldn't come off his tongue.

        Still, he could tried to convey what they meant. Howell pushed himself off the door and strolled over until he was face to face with him.

        With an unwavering gaze, Char held his eyes. It was like he was searching for something, like his eyes were playing tricks on him.

        "I," Char began and paused to take in a steadier breath, "I don't deserve your affection, your attention, your kindness —nothing. You owe me nothing, not a single chance. Horrified at the sight of my reflection in your eyes," his fingernails dug into the undersides of his palms, "I don't belong there.⁴⁶ But, you mean more to me than I can put into words. . .maybe that's the one area where I'm incompetent. Or, perhaps, maybe I can borrow some words; I cannot make speeches, Howell. . .If I cared for you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I—⁴⁷"

        With an annoyed scoff, Howell zeroed in on his lips and shut him the hell up with a chaste kiss. He pulled away before Char could begin to reject or reciprocate it. "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"

        The smile that took over Char's features was breathtaking. Like when the light finally breaks through at the darkest hour. A winter sunrise with all its glorious hues. "Yeah, but they usually have a knife to my throat, they don't kiss me."

        Howell leaned in and kissed him once again. Then twice, then thrice. Everything was back in its beautiful place, making the last five or six months feel like nothing more than a bad dream.

        "Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt the truth to be a liar; but never doubt that I love.⁴⁸" Howell found himself murmuring. And, judging by the look on Char's flushed face, it seemed the perfect place to start.

Sparknotes:

"Lost Boys"

45, Lost Boys is a comedy horror movie from 1987. If you can get over the ten plus music montages, it really is a cool and hilarious film. Char references it because in the film vampires could enter your home if they hadn't had their first drink of blood.

"Horrified at the sight of my reflection in your eyes. I don't belong there"

46, this heartbreaking quote is a lyric from Will Wood's "Outliars and Hyppocrates: a fun fact about apples". Its use here illustrates Char's dilemma about how he views himself and how he thinks others view him. To me, this lyric is breathtaking, simply stunning, and the way Will Wood chooses to sing it just adds to its deeply haunting aura. At least, to me. It's a pretty straight forward reference, because it showcases two things. One, that Howell is physically close enough to Char that Char can see himself reflected in Howell's eyes all the while he knows, deep down, he doesn't belong there. Or, rather, he shouldn't be there. The other point is that Char is letting Howell close enough. Not physically, but emotionally, mentally, romantically. Either way, Char believes he doesn't belong there.

"I cannot make speeches, Howell. . .If I cared for you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I—"

47, paraphrased quote from Jane Austen's Emma. The original quote is "I cannot make speeches, Emma. . .If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me" one of the reasons it's paraphrased is because love is such a huge declaration to make, especially for someone like Char, and the other reason is because Char is so nervous that he can't help but bungle the quote. His reasoning for using it is because he doesn't have the words to tell Howell how much he cares for him.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt the truth to be a liar; but never doubt that I love"

48, one of the final sparknotes of SCD, it's a quote from Shakespeare's Hamlet. Hamlet is actually the one to say this quote to the woman he loves, Ophelia. It's pretty simple to understand, he tells her that she may doubt things that have been proven, but that she should never doubt how much he loves her. Howell uses it because, despite his clinical and cold persona, he's a dummy hopeless romantic. He figures it's the best way to affirm all the thoughts spiralling in Char's head.

~.~.~.~
Day 6

        Vicky glanced down at her phone, pulling her lips into a tight line. She'd texted Char to ask how things went with Howell and all he sent back was a thumbs up.

        When he'd asked her to drop him off at Marsden Estate after their trip to the DNA lab, Vicky was nervous about leaving him alone.

        Well, technically he wasn't really alone, because he was with Howell —which Vicky was both surprised by and happy for him— but it still didn't matter because he wasn't home with them.

        When Howell and Wes trudged through the door at a disgusting three in the morning the other day, Vicky happened to see what was going on. Her blood had turned to ice in her veins and she couldn't remember anything else that happened that morning.

        But, after Char regained consciousness, talked to that mystery man, he declared that he would explain himself to everyone (except the adults, which Vicky could sort of understand, but also how did he plan to hide that from them?).

        Vicky received her explanation last, or second to last, because that had to be what Char was doing at Howell's.

        She remembered sitting down next to the bed he laid in, staring at the bandages. On his face, on his shoulder, she never recalled feeling so helpless. And sure, she doubted that she didn't get the same explanation as everyone else did.

        That was the thing about Char, he had a stellar way with words, and knew exactly what everyone could have the capacity to take and understand. They hadn't talked about it yet, but Vicky was certain he gave Macey the most PG version of his story that he could.

        One thing that he told her was that he needed to go to a DNA lab as soon as he could get up. Which happened to be today. So, Vicky drove him there and waited to see why he wanted one now.

        She was reminded of a conversation they had years ago, back when Char was only thirteen, it was the last time he'd visited.

        Vicky had been perched on a twisted tree branch, fiddling with an age-old locket that belonged to her mother. Back then, she still had her natural hair colour.

        "Vicky."

        She'd blinked and noticed him. Young, face so youthful and his eyes were teasing. He'd jerked his head in a greeting and let his earbud dangle down to his side.

        "Oh," she'd murmured, "you come here, too?" The woods, the place she certainly wasn't allowed to be, and still wasn't, but she wasn't about to lose her favourite place to collect her thoughts.

        Char just shrugged, a lovely image of insouciance. "Sometimes. You hidin' from your mom, again?"

        That hadn't been what she was doing, necessarily. So she had groaned and slumped against the trunk of the tree, letting her legs dangle off the edge. "Kinda, but mainly from Macey."

        Char had snorted and walked steadily toward the tree. He sized the tree up, then, after a brief pause, he pulled himself up. And sure, he'd stumbled once or twice, but managed to hoist himself up to where she was sitting. He'd tried to take out his other earbud, but Vicky held out her hand.

        "Can you play something?" She'd gestured to Char's phone, "you always find the coolest music."

        Char chuckled and handed her the other earbud. "A lot of the music comes from my mom. She used to play this stuff all the time when I was little." He looked over the woods with a wistful expression. "She'd come back from some errand or something, pick me up from Mrs. Porter's, and take me out for ice cream." He scrolled through the playlist on his phone, every single song eliciting a different expression or light.

        Vicky hummed, placing the earbud in her ear. "Whatcha got for me today?"

        Char rolled his eyes, fixing Vicky with a teasing glare. "You gotta tell me about this fight you had with Macey first, okay?"

        With a huff, Vicky pulled a leaf off a nearby branch. She twirled the stem in her fingers before letting it drop down in swift motions. "Look, it was dumb, okay? It's gonna sound really stupid when I tell you."

        Char just let out a huff of laughter and shook his head, and Vicky had found that she couldn't have been mad.

        "I know that sounds bad!" Vicky exclaimed, a pout on her lips. "But, she was taking my stuff without asking. Like my clothes, or whatever."

        "Mhm." Char's hum had sounded distant, and his eyes were glued to his phone screen. It would've deterred Vicky from even talking to him, but she knew he was just looking for a song she'd like.

        So, Vicky had told him about the fight and all her jealous feelings about her dad spending more time with Macey. And, in turn, Char had introduced her to ten new songs that she enjoyed, as well as giving her advice about the situation.

        A casual mention of how Macey's looking for a father figure shut Vicky up. Oh, she hadn't thought about that.

        After the conversation, Vicky felt as though she had to ask one more question. "Hey, have you ever asked your mom about your dad?"

        Seemingly surprised, Char fixed her with a quizzical look. "What? No." He shook his head, yet there was something heavy about it, "don't see how it matters much anyway, right? He's not around."

        "Yeah, but don't you wanna know about it?" She'd pressed.

        "Like I said before, why does it matter?" Char explained, "he wasn't there for me, and my mom was." He squinted and cleared his throat, "is." He corrected.

        "There's a thing called curiosity, Char."

        "And there's a thing called indifference, Vicky. Should I learn who the man is, fine. Should I never learn? Fine. Either way, I can't find it in me to care."

        But now. Now he wanted to know. Did it have something to do with fella who Char met at the warehouse? Or the fella who showed up the following evening?

        Still, she wouldn't ask until he brought it up. That's how their family worked. Even if she really wanted to know why now. If Char wanted to tell her, he would.

        Vicky glanced back to stare at her reflection. After she dropped Char off at Marsden Estate, she jetted back to Gleeful Manor and found the short girl, Wanda was her name, bored with nothing to do.

        Somehow, she convinced Vicky to go get their hair dyed together. Vicky found that she enjoyed Wanda's company, even if the girl was super loud.

        She went with something old. Her old hair colour, to be precise.

        Wanda just added another stripe of colour, but it looked stunning regardless.

~.~.~.~
Day 7

        Howell sat at the back of a little café thirty minutes prior to the scheduled meeting time. Being on time was late, or so he was taught by his parents.

        His companion, however, didn't seem to have learned that etiquette.

        So, Howell busied himself with an iced chai and a copy of Dumas's The Count of Monte Cristo, surely he had some time to spare.

        The environment was cozy, casual conversations flitted about, the occasional screaming child but all in all, it was rather lovely. A little bit of peace in the overall chaotic week.

        Still, the upcoming conversation he'd have to have was weighing heavy on that fraction of peace. Considering who Howell had to talk to.

        The man in question showed up two minutes past the scheduled meeting time, donning a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap. At first, Howell would've chided him for such a conspicuous disguise, but upon further inspection of the other patrons in the café, it was a rather boring look.

        They both sat in silence, after the initial welcome, trying to enjoy their beverages for a tiny moment. Still, the paranoia was getting to Howell.

        So, he cleared his throat and set aside his drink. "The warehouse."

        Across from him, Wes shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Yeah."

        "What happened?"

        "I dunno, honest." Wes insisted, shaking his head. "Everything's all hazy, I can't really remember any of it."

        "Hazy?" Howell repeated, tapping his fingers against the tabletop. "What do you remember?"

        Wes took a small sip of his iced coffee and fiddled with the brim of his hat. "Getting to the warehouse, watching the meeting from the window. . .and then. . .uh, hearing gunshots."

        Howell pursed his lips. In the back of his mind, he was already trying to corroborate Wes's tale with his own. Trying to find where it matched up and where it differed.

        Something was amiss, clearly. His own memories agreed with Wes's story. But that couldn't account for the sudden haziness or the abrupt loss of time.

        The thing was, Howell had no idea what happened that eventful early morning. He remembered crouching next to Wes as they observed the meeting from afar, and then he was blinking himself awake fast enough to aim a shot at Valentino's back.

        Awake? It was as though his mind had slipped from consciousness, that had to be the only realistic option. Occam's razor, after all. He wasn't exhausted that morning, sure it was late, but he was on such a terrible edge that it would've been impossible to fall asleep.

        "Interesting." Howell found himself murmuring aloud.

        "Wanna clue me in?" Wes prompted, leaning forward, elbows on the table. "Because from the look on your face, it looks like you've figured something out."

        "Well, the simplest answer for our collected lapse in memory —the haziness, as you've put it— suggests that someone didn't want us to interfere." Howell presented, and though he was sure he was showing a calm demeanour he was truly panicking inside. "Drugged is my only answer."

        Wes was baffled. "So, you're saying that someone snuck up on us and drugged us?"

        "We're not exactly a pair of trained operatives." Howell chided, "it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that someone got the edge on us."

        "But what's the point?" Wes asked, eyeing his surroundings as though that same someone was listening in.

        "We weren't supposed to be there." Howell offered as an explanation. "I think we should count ourselves lucky that we're still alive."

        Wes nodded very slowly, looking as though he still didn't understand the entire situation. "But, why leave us alone? If we weren't supposed to be there, why didn't they escort us back to their secret lair or back to our homes?"

        Therein lied the hole in Howell's nearly air-tight theory. Because, by all accounts, it didn't make sense. It didn't fit with the story Howell was trying to piece together. Why didn't that someone do what they should've? Or, more importantly, why couldn't they have?

        Howell could barely conceal the gasp that tried to escape his lips. Of course!

        "Hey," Wes tapped the table for attention, "genius, I can't read your mind."

        "The reason why, Wesley, they couldn't complete the task with us is because something more pressing happened." Howell adjusted his glasses and felt less smug and more confused. "I'm sure you know what I refer to."

        "Char's injury." Wes nodded. "So, Valentino" —he whispered the name— "started attacking Char, and that someone had to fix that, have I got that right?"

        "Occam's razor." Howell offered simply. "Or, our secret someone was discovered. And Valentino thought Char was spying on him. That could've caused the attack."

        "When did the Horsemen show up?" Wes pressed, checking his phone's calendar.

        "Officially yesterday. But, unofficially, they showed up the night Char started recovering." Howell explained, "but they were just as confused as the rest of us. I doubt it was one of them."

        "Mystery person aside," Wes eventually muttered, "you shot Valentino, didn't you? I remember that. . ." the look on his face suggested that he didn't really, but was convinced.

        Either way, Howell nodded. "I frantically aimed a shot at his back when I regained consciousness. However, I already informed you that I couldn't aim to save my life."

        "But could you aim to save his life?"

        Valentino's face flashed in Howell's mind, already muddled with haziness. Like a Polaroid exposed to light. Dead, with blood pouring out of the wounds in his chest, but grinning happily. Smiling, damned villain⁴⁹.

        Could he? Did he?

        In lieu of answering Wes's question, Howell busied himself with his drink. Because he didn't know the answer.

Sparknotes:

"Smiling, damned villain"

49, a quote from Hamlet. Hamlet uses this to curse his traitorous uncle for murdering his father and marrying his mother all to get the throne. Howell uses it because he's insulting Valentino and because of the dying smile he saw on Valentino's face when they came to rescue Char. It's typical of a villain such as Valentino to smile whilst committing terrible acts.

~.~.~.~
Day 7

        Birds chirped overhead as dew glistened on the freshly cut grass, sending a few beams of light across the ground. A few names of several Gleeful listed on a variety of headstones, and, in the two furthest plots; someone named Cipher, and a name that went down in history.

        "Um, this is sorta weird, y'know? Hah, yeah. Because, I've never had the courage to visit you. . .well, by myself, I guess. And, well, I never got the chance to know you, and vice versa. But, now I feel like I'm ready, because this week has taught me a lot about myself, and a lot about you."

        The lengthiest of pauses, trying to come to terms with how to say the right thing.

        "So, hi Dad." Char smiled softly, fingers curling around the results of the rapid DNA test he'd picked up earlier that morning. "I know, it's probably weird to talk to a dad you never knew, but I figured this might do me some good. I'm no therapist, but I've been figuring out that getting closure is a good thing, no matter how the circumstances present themselves."

        He shoved the papers back into his front pocket, and let out another quiet sigh, feet shifting on the wet grass. "Never thought I'd ever be ready to talk to my dad, because I've grown up thinking I need to handle things on my own, and I didn't need you. Heh, it also didn't help that I thought you just up and left my mom, so props to you for not being a ditcher. Hahah. . .yeah.

        "I don't think I was supposed to know about you. Mom gave me the impression that she didn't wanna talk about you, though I could probably imagine why. I've combed through the history books, so to speak, and I know what happened when you. . .left." He ran a hand through his hair, casting a glance behind himself.

        He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready for everyone to know the truth. "I guess I shouldn't call it leaving, y'know? It's not like you left her willingly, there were other complications. Some of which I don't think I fully understand. But I know that you loved Mom, I just know you did. I probably wouldn't be here if you didn't. . .maybe. Adult love is complicated, y'know?"

        A break in his monologue, a very necessary one. Speaking too often about feelings left Char with a nauseated taste in his mouth.

        He took a minute to compose himself, sitting down next to the headstone, brushing his fingers against the dying flowers. Wilted colours of red, pink, orange, and yellow, strung together to make a simple flower crown.

        Absentmindedly, Char let his fingers run over it, wondering who had made it.

        "There's so much I wish I could've said to you. I would've liked to meet you, at least once. Figure out why I'm like. . .this, I suppose. Though, that gives into the whole 'innate abilities' against nature versus nurture. But, I think what I'd want you to know the most is that I'm doing well.

        "My relationship with Vicky and Macey couldn't be better. They mean the world to me, and it's certainly made my life a whole lot easier knowing that I had a home here, even when I didn't feel like it.

        "Wes and I are sticking things out as friends. He's a good man, I'm just not the one for him. He needs his space right now, but I'm hoping for things to turn out for us. In the most platonic and okay way possible.

        "Howell and I are figuring things out together, one day at a time. We're taking things slow, much slower than our previous attempt, and I think that it'll all be worth it. I'm trying to be more open with him about the things in my life, but that's something I need to work on going forward. I know I'm not the most open person in the world, but he makes me want to try.

        "The Horsemen of North Caldwell are stronger than ever. Expanding our range little by little, well, that's the plan anyway. Delmira, Wanda, and Felix have been my family for over five years now, and there isn't anything we wouldn't do for each other. To reference Delmira's favourite video game, they're like my DICE, except we stop crime. We're gonna try to expand our assistance to every area of the country, which would've seemed near-impossible with just us four, but something happened.

        "Which brings me to how we plan to do that. The Crimson Devils have been relinquished to me by. . .birthright? I guess? Most were surprised by the change in direction, but they're more than happy to stick it to worse bad guys than them. With over a thousand members scattered around the country, I'd say we definitely have enough power to cover the country as a whole."

        With a slow intake, Char guiltily glanced at the headstone. "Dan Valentino is dead. He died in front of my eyes from an unknown assailant. I know he's the bad guy, and I know that he's the reason you're dead. . .but I wanted him alive. There are so many questions that I still have. Questions that news reports and documentaries wouldn't be able to answer, questions that my mom wouldn't want to answer, and questions that my Reverse Falls family wouldn't know how to answer."

        He scrubbed angrily at his eyes, furious for the tears that started welling up without his consent. Mourning for something that never existed for him, mourning for all the what might've beens.

        "He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness⁵⁰." He said, mainly as a reminder to himself about the perils of thinking in such a manner. "And what's done is done, I can't change what's happened, but hopefully I can figure out why."

        Swiftly, he got to his feet, careful not to crush the already-wilting flower crown. "I'm going to figure out who killed him that night, and then they will have to tell me why."

        As he turned to leave, his footsteps halted, and he looked back to the grave. "This isn't a goodbye. It can't be, seeing as we've never met, so. . .see ya later, Dad."

        On his short walk back, he noticed a familiar figure waiting patiently outside the built-in cemetery.

        Once he nodded in her general direction, Vicky hopped off the stone wall and meandered over to him, a slight smile on her face.

        "So, what are you now?" She asked, as they lingered by the gates. "A Valentino? A Gleeful? A bit of both?"

        The sound of footfalls caught both of their attention, and Vicky closed her mouth as Pacifica strolled past concealing something in her hands.

        Char gave her a gentle wave and turned his gaze to follow her toward the back of the cemetery. In truth, he felt a bit lighter than he had in years. Tiny little snippets of closure to help him feel whole again. And little snippets of joy for where it all could possibly lead him. 

         He spared one last glance toward his dad's grave and froze in place.

        Pacifica had placed a flower crown of similar colour next to it.

        The start of a smile began to creep onto Char's face. Sighing in a mix of content and relief, he urged Vicky to make their way back to the manor.

        "I'm a Valiant. Just as I've always been."

        The gentle air of familiarity pushing forward to a place he finally felt he could call home.

Sparknotes:

"He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness"

50, the last one. It's from Alexandre Dumas's The Count of Monte Cristo. The book is all about revenge, and it's used in a variety of media to convey the feelings of anger and betrayal from those you've trusted or those you've loved. It's personally one of my favourites, but quite the lengthy read. Anyways, Char is using it to remind himself that thinking in such a way is only going to fuel whatever anger lies within him. Has he felt the deepest grief known to man? That's up to you guys :)

THE END

Wowie, wanna know how many words this entire project of mine is?

when somebody needs you: 55,995
the seasons of cicada days: 54,808
combined word count: 110,803

I have two questions to pose to you all.

1. When did it click for you that Char was Dipper's son? His introduction? Throughout the story as a whole? When Dan announced it? Or when Char confirmed it at the grave sight?

(I won't say it was obvious, because it wasn't supposed to be, and hats off to you if you figured it out before the reveal, but there are quite a few hints throughout the story, and there's also a few hints before SCD started)

2. Who do you believe killed Dan Valentino? I'm actually very curious to know!

If y'all have any questions, feel free to ask, I'll do my best to answer! The only question I will not be answering about this short story is who killed Dan Valentino at the warehouse. I'm choosing to leave it as ambiguous as possible, but one thing's for sure; I know, and it may cause some discord down the line should I choose to further explore these characters. However, there is evidence, if you know where to look ;)

Now time for some brief fun facts about when somebody needs you and the seasons of cicada days !

WSNY

1. Every segment ending was planned before its beginning. I knew how Candy and Dipper were going to break up before I knew how they were going to meet. Same for the Scarlett split, and even with Pacifica. Which, in tow, means I planned Dipper's death since the beginning which —lemme tell ya— hurt a lot.

2. One of my main reasons for writing this story alone was to flesh out Candy Chiu a bit more than I have. In most of my works she has been rather two-dimensional with her only personality trait being rudeness. As I've expanded on Reverse Falls as a whole, I've started working more on individual characters, it was only fitting that I give her something more substantial. Thus, the whole plot was born.

3. Another reason why this story was born was because I was watching a bunch of conspiracy/heist-based television shows and I was itching to create something like that!

4. I originally planned that Dipper wouldn't get closure with Candy and that he would never see her again, but everything was so fluffy about the RevDipcifica section so, I changed the plot slightly so that they could meet again. Plus, I needed a way for Howell to be close to the family :)

5. In that same regard, I was actually planning to have him meet with Scarlett one final time. Nothing big, no huge scene where they have a lengthy discussion about what happened between them and everything after, but just that they would happen to be seated at the same café and he would see her, nod in a greeting, and they'd go their separate ways. And that he would see her there with his son. But, I wanted to showcase that life isn't always so grand, and that, sometimes, you don't get the closure you wanted, and you have to work through that on your own.

6. Whilst writing the super fluffy scenes for the RevDipcifica section, I honestly took a moment and sat back, contemplated on whether I should go through with the sad ending or not. It was the main reason as to why that section was out super late compared to the others, because I took the time to reevaluate the plot line to see if it was still doable with what I had already published. It was, but I still went through with the death. I'm actually a sucker for sad endings and have always wanted to write them and this was the perfect set up.

7. At the ending of the RevDipcifica segment, I thought about being a bit sadistic and placing this song at the end so no one would have any false hope that Dipper was going to live 😂🤦‍♀️

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

8. Dipper's cat, Capgras, is modelled after a cat I had as a child! Same mannerisms and everything, only liked one person in my family and that was it (no, it wasn't me)

9. Speaking of Capgras, I'm sure the reference I made with his name was highly missed because I'm a psychology nerd (and an avid Will Wood fan). Capgras syndrome (or Capgras's delusion) is a delusional misidentification syndrome. It's characterised by a false belief that an identical duplicate has replaced someone significant to the patient. That being said, Capgras is a green-eyed, red-furred cat, which is way too familiar to Dipper. If you got the reference, it lends some leeway to the ending of that section. Because Scarlett left, and all Dipper had to remember her by was Capgras.

10. Last thing about Capgras, and then I swear I'll move on. How many people have been reading his name as "Cap-grass"? Well, that's actually not correct. It's why Gideon says "gesundheit" because it's actually pronounced "kuh-graa". I bet that's a shocker!

11. This book was a lot of work. The amount of times I had to double back to check to see if I gave something away is too many. The amount of subtle foreshadowing, the references, all of it. I was always rereading every part prior to the one I was currently writing to make sure all the clues were in place.

SCD

1. Char's name comes from the song This Charming Man by The Smiths. I decided it's one of Scarlett's favourite songs, and Dipper's as well. Coincidentally, it's also goes on Char's top ten. (Playlist coming soon)

2. Macey's name is sort of a play on her father's real name; Mason. Though, had Dipper lived, he would've strongly argued against the name Macey, because of how close it sounds to his name, and, as he's stated, doesn't want the name to continue.

3. In case it got lost in the word count, yes, the soap opera that Macey got Howell into is literally the premise of SCD. I find it very fun to hint at how each story will end without directly giving it away. Hence, in the third part of WSNY it started by mentioning the attacks on Dipper's life that were failed attempts. I really thought the aesthetic would give it away 🤦‍♀️

4. Kai and Vicky's relationship is modelled after me and my best guy friend's relationship. Where they will refer to each other as "wife" or "husband" without it necessarily meaning anything other than platonic.

5. I put about three to four hours of research into this project alone. A lot of it was for SCD, for Char's Horsemen. And, it's not strictly said, but his Horsemen's names coincide with the actual horseman they're modelled after. I went with the original depiction of the horsemen of the apocalypse instead of the modern ones. Usually, in modern media (looking at you, Good Omens) it's Death, Pestilence(Pollution), Famine, and War. But originally, it was Death, Famine, War, and Conquest.

6. I wanted to include more scenes with the Horsemen, however, it would've made the word count for SCD far longer than it actually is (which is still very very long). I might publish extras after this, but who knows

7. Howell's Starbucks drink of choice is an iced chai made with oat milk and brown sugar syrup. It's actually the only way I've enjoyed chai tea in general!

8. The Portland Spider is not Dan Valentino, but Alaric Hazelwood. He let his crew think it was Valentino because that is the order of things amongst the Crimson Devils. The top dog has to be shown as the most wicked. The Portland Spider is Alaric, lovely to see the Horsemen and the Spider team up.

9. For the confrontation scene between Char and Dan, I had Old Friends Anew by Tobias Lilja on repeat the entire time whilst writing it. If you go back and reread that segment whilst listening to that song, you'll probably get the same chills that I did.

10. Another thing on the confrontation segment, being that I had sat down and ultimately decided to see how many classic literature references I could fit in there whilst still making the story flow. If I'm not mistaken, I think I also managed to reference a few Will Wood lyrics (guys, seriously, please check him out because his lyrics are such an inspiration to me)

11. Char's line of work is inspired by Michael Westen's work in Burn Notice. A fantastic show, seriously, I give it 10/10.

12. It wasn't an important factor to the story, so I didn't mention it, but Char has two younger half-siblings (not Macey and Vicky). Twin boys. Alexi Wyatt Valiant, and Atlas Dmitri Valiant. Who their father is isn't a mystery 😂 they're currently four and problematic

13. Char's favourite song of all time is Ghost of Stephan Foster by Squirrel Nut Zippers. It's such a vibe that incorporates so many fantastic instruments, and he adores that.

14. Howell and Char weren't always going to end up together. To really get into both characters's mindsets on the relationship, I took some time to jot down interactions they had in the past and it just made me want to have some sort of a happy ending, considering the devastation that was the ending of when somebody needs you.

15. Alaric Hazelwood becomes Char's surrogate father. It just slowly happens and everyone simply accepts it

16. The only person who knows both of Char's origins is Vicky. Alaric may know that Char's a Valentino, but he doesn't know he's a Gleeful. Vicky knows he's both.

17. Char doesn't plan on telling anyone else that he's the son of Dipper Gleeful. He doesn't want that sort of attention on him (it makes working his job so much harder), and he also doesn't want tabloids spewing lies on Detective Gleeful's good name. It would hurt everyone.

18. Funnily enough, Char has the same scar as Dipper has. They both got sliced by members of the Valentino family. The weird thing is that I didn't even plan that. It just happened.

19. Again, I'm a sucker for sad endings. But, I also happen to be a sucker for the hero slowly turning into the villain. So, SCD had two endings planned. One is the happier route that's currently published. The other, well, wasn't going to be so heartwarming. Char was going to join Dan Valentino and turn into a villainous character. The latter of the two endings had a 45% chance of happening, but I ultimately went with the happier one because I think I wrote it out better. Does this mean I have a whole other ending that's nearly completely finished? Yes. Will I post it? I haven't decided.

20. To further elaborate on the previous fact, I personally didn't really like the way the second ending had turned out. I thought it was a little too rushed, and the word count for that was already pushing more than I originally planned. If the story took place for about a month or so, then it could've actually panned out. But, seeing as I already planned for one week, I couldn't go back on that.

21. To be honest, I thought that the ending word count for SCD would be, at most, 20k-25k. But, with the first segment bordering 20k and me only getting to day three with that, I realised that, oh no, the chapter splitting was going to have to change. It was just supposed to be one chapter, after all. But that's a lot for one whole chapter. So, I changed it to two, but then I also realised that the second segment was already surpassing 25k words and we only got days 4-5. So, dear future me, don't announce/plan for amount of chapters, because you'll have to (at least) change it once.

Thank you for everyone who's stuck around for this, it means so much to mean that you've enjoyed the story as a whole. As a head's up, I'll let you know that I do have two more short stories in the works that will hopefully come out in 2023. In the meantime, stay safe out there and keep smiling my lovelies!

-Kaori Miyazono <3