Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Higgs' opinion about you wasn't high. He didn't respect you in the slightest, and you were sure he hoped to wake up one day and realise you are gone. In truth, you were thinking the exact same thing about him. You had it in common — both of you couldn't stand sharing Amelie's attention. Both of you wanted to be her one and only. And both of you can go and cry about it somewhere else, because Amelie let you know: you will be working together. And Amelie’s word is your law; you didn't want to disappoint her.

Higgs was chaos incarnate; he didn't care about the destruction he was causing. You weren't sure he cared about anything at all. The world will perish, and this truth gave him a green light to commit any atrocity.

You preferred thoughtful planning and careful steps. You believed that just one clear move would be enough for everything to fall like a house of cards. The end is inevitable; why not make it as quick and painless as possible? Higgs was prone to brutality; you saw cruelty as something unnecessary. 

The end must be gentle, like a lullaby. It is the final chapter, and all fears and sorrows, injustice and hate would be gone. This will be the last mercy for humanity. Amelie’s eyes shone when you shared your vision with her. She promised that you can ensure this ending if you join her. 

Higgs laughed at your dream. Too idealistic, he said. Death cannot be merciful or painless. You tried to prove the opposite. None would ever admit the other is right. 

But tolerating him became much easier when you thought about him not as a psycho but a deeply sick, traumatised, depressed loser.

“You are overdosed on chiralium, aren't you?”

It was obvious; you were disappointed you didn't realise it much sooner, because he had all the symptoms from the book.

And, of course, he continued to use his favourite golden mask, also made of chiralium. Higgs didn't give himself a chance.

“Don't be stupid,” he dismissed you. “We are DOOMS users.”

“We have resistance, not immunity, smartass,” you rolled your eyes, feeling boiling anger under your skin. Is he serious?! “You are slowly killing yourself. Chiralium is destroying both mind and body.”

Higgs didn't need your explanation — he already knew it. He couldn't not know it. But he was a grown adult with his own head on his shoulders.

“How about minding your business, ah, Ghost?”

You clenched your teeth, walking through him in annoyance and enjoying his shivering from the contact.

“Fine. As you say, Higgs.”

_ _ _ 

“In case you suffered brain damage and forgot my words, I am not part of your Homo Demens, Higgs. I am not your lackey; I don't take orders from you. We are equals,” you reminded him, but Higgs only smirked. He would rather think of you as a servant, not a colleague. But you didn't help him; you were helping Amelie, even if it meant doing something for Higgs from time to time. 

For you, Amelie’s opinion was the only guidance. She is your God; she is your Death. If it brings her happiness, you will swallow your pride and dignity.

You probably started with Higgs on the wrong foot. Most of the disputes could've been avoided if you had immediately learned not to question his dubious plans. But could you really stand aside when he did everything you tried so hard to avoid — causing irreparable harm? You still remembered that woman he forced to run through timefall. 

Fragile. You were too late to prevent it.

“You did it. You saved them,” you whispered, kneeling near her and protecting her with your umbrella from the rain. It was the smallest act of kindness, but you couldn’t do more. Her body was completely ruined; however, she was still alive. You looked into the distance where Higgs should have been standing. He could be as angry as he wanted, but he wouldn't interfere now.

“Weren’t you friends once?” you asked him, not with rage but sadness and pity. “Why make her suffer like that?” 

He scoffed.

“No connection is everlasting.” In his world, yesterday’s friends are today’s enemies. “Fragile should have known better than to stand in my way.”

Your working tactic was to ignore him. Higgs did everything to test your patience. For example, right now, he shamelessly invaded your personal space, hovering over your shoulder.

You tried to hack one security system, but Higgs's presence made it impossible to concentrate. So in reality, you were just pretending you were busy, waiting for him to leave you alone.

You felt his breath on your skin, giving you goosebumps. But reacting meant losing to him, so you continued to act like Higgs wasn't in the same room with you, coming uninvited. 

He was lonely. This is the impression he gave to you. As if violence were his core interaction, he didn't know how to communicate with someone without it. You doubted he even had someone to talk to, considering how much of his free time he started to spend in your presence. Who else could understand him better than you? Homo Demens, whom he treats as his assets? 

He made a habit of visiting you. Maybe telling him where he can find you in case of emergencies was a mistake.

Higgs wouldn't be Higgs if he didn't break your walls of indifference. He. Licked. You.

You stood up and screamed. No, you didn't say a word; you just purely screamed, scrubbing your cheek. You hoped he wouldn't give you rabies.

“Higgs,” you said his name through your teeth, while he grinned like a madman. “Do you have any concrete reason why you are here?”

“Just wanted to check on our little darling Ghost. What if you have some juicy news?”

A few weeks ago, you appeared from nowhere, jumpscared him (unintentionally, but you were very proud), and did him a favour by pointing at a traitor among his terrorist band. Nothing big, really. At least now, Higgs didn't think about you as a completely useless waste of space near Amelie. 

“If I have something important to tell you, I will tell you.”

“You don't have my number. Must be exhausting stalking me every time you want to talk. Unless… you enjoy it.”

“Oh no, you found out my secret,” you deadpanned, without telling him that you have his number. “Now find the door and close it from the other side.”

“If you are so into me, shall I expect to find you one day in my humble abode?” he continued, looking around, touching your stuff.

“Your hideout looks like you fought with raccoons and raccoons won. And then died there.”

The first time, you were just curious, but you will refuse to go there again, even if Amelie personally orders you to. What if you catch fleas? 

“What a specific description. So you were at my place. What did you do? Looked through my dirty laundry?”

“Of course, I am so into you, how could I not? Watched your porn collection, read emails, the usual. By the way, your password was surprisingly easy to guess. I mean, ‘particle_ofgod1999’, really? But why 1999, tho? It's not your year of birth–”

He disappeared with a poof. Finally, you outplayed him in his own game.

_ _ _ 

The name ‘Particle of God’ would suit you better. Omnipresent, invisible, and all-pervading — it was about you. But Higgs chose the name first, and it wasn't worth fighting over. He had a full-scale hyperfixation and went far enough to have tattoos. You were impressed by this level of dedication. ‘Ghost’ was a fine name, too. That's how Higgs started calling you, and you just accepted it. You bet he just forgot your real name. 

Higgs used his powers however he wanted, making a show out of it. You weren't as strong as he was, but Amelie's gift gave you other advantages. For you, there were no closed doors or unsolved secrets. You were a perfect spy, acting in Amelie's interests. 

Regular meetings were at the Beach. You awaited them with anticipation, ready to give Amelie your report. At first, she always listened with fascination, a hint of a smile on her lips. Higgs was annoyed by this, considering his actions more effective. Yes, blowing up cities is a very clever tactic, you wanted but didn't say aloud. Did he expect a medal from Amelie or, better, a cookie from a shelf?

But Amelie became more and more distant, looking at the ocean rather than you. Instead of supervising and giving new orders, she granted her servants almost absolute independence — no need to seek her approval every time.

Still, Higgs and you continued to show up, even if Amelie stopped doing the same. You often just sat on the sand in awkward silence. In contrast to the real coast and the sea, the cradle of life, this place was lifeless, frozen in its eternity. 

“Have you ever looked at the rocks and thought, damn, I can just smash my head and end it all?” It wasn’t the best way to start a casual conversation. You glanced at Higgs with concern. His gaze was directed towards the vast expanse of calm water. You'd rather hear some snide remark from him. Is he at the age when men have their first existential crisis? Or the chiralium contamination kicked in hard?

“Yes, sometimes. Who isn’t?” you admitted carefully. “But if I wanted to kill myself, I’d choose… a more lethal way. Not like it works for us, anyway.”

“Yeah. For us, there’s no escape from this shithole you call life. We will be dragged back.”

You almost asked what was going on inside his head. After all, you couldn’t remember if you even experienced death and resurrection from the Beach like Higgs did.

“Try not to have any business in the South Knot City in the near future,” he warned you, which was unexpectedly kind.

“Try not to order too many suspicious things as Peter Eglert,” you said in return. “You were almost tracked down.”

“Was it you?” he asked, implying he knew someone cleaned his traces.

“Who else? But your pizza stories are hilarious; honestly, that pizza man must be bathing in money, considering how much you order. Aren't you tired of eating the same food?”

“Stalker,” he muttered, as if he wasn't even worse with his “Wall of Sam”. Sam was a special person; you understood why Higgs and Amelie were interested in him. But you didn't share their obsession — it just didn't make any sense. Sam to you was just a man. You made a few photos of him, though, as a present for Higgs’s growing collection.

You were sure Higgs would never lay an eye on him if Amelie didn't pay Sam any attention. But Higgs saw how she cared. And Higgs was far more than jealous. He was jealous of you, Amelie's pet, as he thought, her little angel on the shoulder, who whispered, “Kill them with love and kindness!”. Why else would she allow you all of that nonsense if she didn't like you? But then he realised: compared to Sam, you are nothing. 

You could only accept the truth. Amelie said acceptance is your greatest virtue, that's why you are never angry. The world will crumble, fine. The end is inevitable, okay. Amelie doesn't love you, slightly more than indifferent. She doesn't love you, but she loves Sam.

Which is… not great, but you kept smiling. Indifference is better than pure hatred. 

“And pizza has many flavours. What else can I eat?”

“I don't know, try a soup.”

“Soup?”

“Yes, like veggies with groats in boiled water.”

“I know what soup is.”

“I'm positively shocked,” you gasped. “By the way, your eyeliner is smudged.”

He touched his face with his gloved hand.

“No, wait! You made it even worse. You look like a raccoon.”

“I thought they all died at my place.”

“It seems one survived and evolved. Just let me fix it,” you said, unable to stand a total disaster of his make-up. He looked at the handkerchief you were holding with a complete lack of trust, as if it were a weapon you were going to use to torture him.

For someone who constantly invades other people's personal space, he wasn't comfortable with you being so close on your own initiative. His shoulders were tense, and he almost flinched when you touched the skin under his eyes.

You never got a chance to see all the small details of Higgs' face before. He often hid it under masks. But now you've noticed how pale he looked, and the dark circles under his eyes weren't just from smudged eyeliner. He didn't sleep for a while.

“It kinda reminds me of pharaohs' eyes,” you commented. He sighed and visibly relaxed.

“That's the point, thank you for finally noticing.”

“Oh, so that's what all of your aesthetic is about? Sorry, I was always more into Greek mythology.”

It was enough to trigger his unskippable monologue about the burial traditions, symbolism, and ancient culture.

“Sorry, can you repeat the last twenty-five sentences? I looked for too long in your pretty blue eyes and kinda zoned out.”

You said it, wanting him to explode from his ranting. Instead, he opened his mouth, but no words came.

“Are you blushing or having a fever?”

His cheeks turned pink slightly. You wanted to touch his forehead and check it, but Higgs stepped aside, putting his mask back.

Try giving him a few more compliments and see how it turns out.

_ _ _

He wasn't sleeping. What's the point if he would wake up after another most vivid dream of the End? Higgs knew it would come, but in the dreams, no one could think rationally. He lay still with his eyes closed. Only a five-minute break, nothing more. But lying down on the bed was a big mistake, because as soon as his head touched the pillow, his body refused to move.

The soft sound of guitar strings cut through the silence. Whoever broke in, he hoped they would slice his throat, and then he would return with a vengeance and maybe finally feel something.

“Can you play, or is this guitar just for show?”

Ah, it's miss “I'll never visit your dirty place”. 

“Hello to you, too, Ghost,” he mumbled, his eyes still closed. “Yeah, I know how to play.”

Must be something urgent if you were here. But you didn't say anything else. Higgs heard how you were pacing back and forth.

“Did something happen?” he decided to ask directly.

“What if I missed your handsome face?” Higgs finally opened his eyes to look at yours. Did you just joke? How cute. You sat on the edge of his bed. If Higgs weren't feeling so shitty, he'd be proud of you: you've definitely picked up a few things on how to be bold from him.

If you were making a list of what's wrong with Higgs Monaghan, you would need just one word — “everything”. 

“When you are away for longer than usual, your little Homo band is in disarray.”

Oh. His five-minute break wasn't just five minutes. Was it five days already?

“But you know what was the most surprising?” you poked a finger at his cheek. “They are all convinced I am your girlfriend. Did you publicly swear your undying love to me, and I missed that?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” he shrugged his shoulders. “People are free to think whatever they want. And you are the one who always follows me around, like a ghost.”

“Firstly, you aren't funny. Secondly, you are wrong. And finally, you are avoiding the main topic.”

“Which is?”

“Your chiralium contamination.”

“Not again,” he sighed. “Stop mother henning me. It's annoying. I'm alright.”

That was a blatant lie.

“No, Higgs, you are far from alright.”

“Oh, just fuck off. Since when do you care?”

You stared at him in disbelief. Maybe he was just furious that you caught him in such a vulnerable moment?

“Why do you think I wouldn't care about you?” Your question disarmed him. “We are allies. I know you don’t like me much, but it doesn’t mean you can't rely on me.” If you were in his place, Higgs wouldn’t do anything. Most likely, he would enjoy your misery. But you weren’t him. “You are destroying yourself.”

“I know it!” he snapped. “But this is how things are going on! Some sacrifices are necessary!”

Most members of Homo Demens were also influenced by chiralium. It changed their perception but made them easier to control. They are isolated in their case. Would they still have the same ideology if chiralium didn't destroy their sanity? Would they still follow Higgs?

But who is Higgs without heavy toxins shaping his character? He was so adamant in refusing the cure, as if he were afraid of what the change could lead to. As if he wouldn't stick to Amelie’s plan. As if he were terrified of the idea of living without the dark abyss inside him.

“You don't have to suffer like this,” you said gently. His expression shifted from angry back to distant. You didn't want to fight him over it. After all, it was only his decision. What you wanted was to give him a choice. “I am on your side.”

He nodded before you left him.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

When Higgs was in a good mood, he might think you're cute. Not in the way “oh she’s pretty” cute, but as in “look at this little naive gazelle, she has no idea the world will consume her” cute.

The first time he met you, Higgs thought, “Seriously? This is who I am going to end the world with?” But he couldn’t criticize Amelie. That’s fine, you are just her pet project. Sucks he is stuck on the babysitting duty.

“Stop playing with BTs.”

He repeated the same sentence like a broken record, but you still didn’t get it.

“I’m not playing, I’m consoling them.”

“Yeah, whatever, stop.”

You didn’t.

“They are so scared and lonely.”

The Beached Things surrounded you. They were following you around, like hungry hyenas. 

“Don’t treat them as real humans, they aren’t.”

“But they were, once.”

Maybe if they ate you and you exploded, you'd remember it. And Higgs would have a chance to say, “I told you so.”

“She isn't cut for the business,” he finally said to Amelie.

“On the contrary. She is perfect,” she ended the discussion, because, of course, you are the one who eases her remorse, saying all the right words Amelie wants to hear.

Honestly, what's wrong with you? A gentle end? Humanity deserves nothing gentle. But you were looking at him as if he were crazy.

“We aren't evil by nature and are prone to helping each other in times of need. Otherwise, we wouldn't survive as a species.”

Except humanity is near its sunset. But sure, continue to look at the world through the pink glasses, why not?

“Yeah? Then go on, tell everybody what's going to happen, I'll see how cooperative people are.”

People are blind to the truth. They would prefer to live in their own illusions rather than face harsh reality. That's why humanity is doomed.

“To be afraid of death is the most common thing. You can't blame them for fear of losing everything they cherish.”

“This applies to you, too.”

You smiled at him patronizingly. It made him all itchy.

“I have already said my farewells to everyone and everything I needed or wanted to.”

You're a little bit mental, he concluded, because a sane person wouldn’t be talking like this.

The most annoying part of your personality was your view on life. Let's hold hands and kiss each other's butt! Everyone can be kind and caring! But Higgs knows — you are wrong. People are cruel, egotistical, and egocentric. They can't wait to use you and then abuse you till you are a mere shadow of yourself.

If you haven't learned this lesson yet, Higgs can't wait to witness it. Better yet — he wants to be the one who'll teach you. Will Amelie be dissatisfied if he breaks her toy?

You are so… unremarkable. Even your name — unmemorable, easy to forget as soon as you introduce yourself. Out of touch, out of reach, when Higgs talks to you, he has the impression that you are really not even here. A ghost of a person, that’s what you are. Squeezing out of you at least some kind of reaction besides melancholy and polite kindness has become his favorite pastime. Show him the depths of your tolerance. And making you finally snap is a great achievement. Then you feel like a real person, interesting and alive.

What a beautiful melody it is when you say his name through clenched teeth, barely holding yourself back from anger.

Then you are calling him on the rooftop, your cheeks crimson red.

“Listen, it’s an awkward conversation, but it needs to be done.” You looked around, but not at Higgs, as if you would combust in flames otherwise. What did you have in mind? You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. “If you have a crush on me, you won't win me over by being mean. I'm not into that stuff. If you want my attention, you can just ask.”

.

.

.

.

.

The what?

What did you just say…?

Did Higgs accidentally eat something funny that gave him auditory hallucinations? But he looked at you again. Nope, he heard everything correctly.

Holy hell, do you think he's in love with you? He likes you?

For a moment, he forgot you aren't normal — you, who constantly talks with BTs. Your brain should be studied in a lab, because you reached a new level of delusion.

“I don't have a crush on you,” he said flatly. The mere thought of it is laughable. Maybe you are a candy for the eye. Perhaps he likes it when you're trying to be nice to him, even when he's insufferable on purpose, especially when you are giving him ice cream for “good behavior”.

But nuh-uh. He doesn't have any romantic feelings towards you.

It's impossible.

You are just too different.

“There is nothing wrong with admitting it. I wouldn't make fun of you.”

You crossed your arms on your chest, still refusing to look in his eyes. Great, you convinced yourself that he's in love with you, which is not true.

“What indicates that I like you?” He wanted to know what caused this cosmic level of misunderstanding.

“Your schoolboy attitude is a big hint.”

It left him speechless.

Higgs wanted to say many things and laugh in your dumb face; he wished to scream how stupid you are. But while he was thinking about where to start, he didn't notice how you closed the distance. Your warm palm touched his cheek, and his heart hammered. He could stare only at your eyes, mesmerized and hypnotized.

Your voice was akin to a siren’s. Maybe that’s why the BTs are always following you around. You’re so easy to connect with.

“Liking someone is alright, Higgs.”

He didn’t cowardly run away. It was a tactical retreat. He needs to come up with a strategy for dealing with crazy people like you.

_ _ _

The weather was shitty, but when it was not? All cloudy, without a hint of sun: the ideal weather for funerals, if they were still allowed. 

“If it’s a boy, I’ll name him Laurenlius, and if it’s a girl, she’ll be Igneritts,” you were casually walking side by side with Higgs around the Homo Demens’ base.

“It’s the worst names I've ever heard,” Higgs said honestly. “Whose children's lives are you going to ruin like this?”

“I’m talking about our babies!”

It was a real puzzle to solve, always like a riddle.

“Do you mean BBs?” he guessed. 

And then you wonder why people have strange ideas about the relationship between you two? Do you even know how your words sound to others out of context? Why are you here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to pretend to be busy or ghost around elsewhere, haunting someone who is not Higgs? 

“Did you see them moving? At least a little? Or blinking?” You tapped the red pod on you, but the BB didn’t react. Higgs had a similar red pod.

“I’m not a baby expert,” he replied, but glanced at his own pod. “Hey, can’t ya get it from here with your power and check for yourself if they’re real?”

You tapped the pod again.

“I think I can. But what if it dies?”

“Then you’ll know it’s alive.”

Curiosity killed the cat, you remember.

“Let’s experiment on yours.”

Higgs jumped away in time to avoid your grab.

“Unlike you, I’m actually using it for its intended purpose.”

“Then do not suggest murdering mine!”

You weren’t ashamed of using your powers, and Higgs did the same. He never saw you as carefree and happy as you were in that improvised game of tag. And here goes your fun and playful side. That's what happens when you start spending your time with real humans instead of BTs.

“Okay, time-out.”

Higgs did it not because he was losing (he was losing). Firstly, he did it because he could. Secondly, your yelps were hilarious to listen to. He picked you up, tossed you on his shoulder, and spun around. And stopped only when you screamed you’re about to throw up right on him.

Liar. 

This is what you get when you try to cheat — instant payback from the universe. You made him stumble, but he fell just on top of you, pinning you down to the ground.

“You broke me something,” you hissed in pain, half-laughing and half-crying. You deserve it.

_ _ _

You are an overthinker, Higgs figured it out. His condition was no worse than the rest, but it was nice to see you so worried about him. Nice, but terribly annoying. Why do you do this? Maybe it’s you who has a secret crush on him, checking every day if he hasn’t gone nuts yet. 

He was fine, manageable. Until you infected him with overthinking, and he woke up one night with a feeling that he was agonizingly slowly dying. Well, maybe it is the right time to seek some help.

Higgs didn't make himself wait for too long. There was a knock at your door.

You had predicted his visit, but the knock was unexpected. See? He can be nice and polite when he wants. You opened the door, finding him leaning against the doorframe. Oh, he must be the view, with his disheveled hair and rapid breathing.

“You said you can help.”

He didn’t try to sound nonchalant. Those stupid visions are impossible to bear.

You had nightmares, too, but when Amelie told you about hers and her attempts to understand them, the apocalyptic dreams didn’t scare you anymore.

“I can.”

You chased away the remnants of your sleep and stepped aside, letting him in. His course was straight up to your couch. The strong smell of medicine immediately filled the room as you added a few drops to a glass of water and handed it to him. 

His gaze jumped between you, the glass, and something else behind you.

“Whatever you see, look only at me,” you forced the glass to his lips, waiting until he drank everything. “And whatever you hear, listen only to my heartbeat.”

He obviously had no idea how to act, but slowly leaned towards you until his head was resting on your chest. Yes, it really drowned out all the other noise. 

You are brainwashing him, Higgs thought, because how else could he explain this strange feeling? As if all the bad water in him is filtering. Is this what you are doing to BTs? Is this why they are all so obsessed with you?

“Just let me take it away,” you whispered. Your hands rubbed his back. There's no escape for him, and he relaxed, experiencing the light in his eyes turning off and bringing him the most bizarre serenity he has had in his life. 

_ _ _

She stood in the distance, a lone figure in red. Her red was of spilled blood, of the last sunset, of burning hopes and dreams. 

Amelie heard your footsteps on the sand. She turned her head, but the expression of joy quickly turned neutral when she saw you. Everything in her gaze was speaking of disappointment with her own expectations, as if she were waiting for someone else to visit her. Not you. Not Higgs, either. 

“Amelie,” you greeted her like you always did — kneeling before her, as befits a follower before a god. But you didn’t see her only as a deity: she was a human, too, who could bleed and cry. That’s why you liked her even more: she knows what you feel. 

“I don’t see Higgs with you,” Amelie noticed without any particular interest. Unlike you, he saw her more as an idea of the end rather than a person.

“He made quite a big progress,” you answered instead of an explanation. She doesn’t need to know about his little overdose moment. Unless, of course, she already knows about it.  “We couldn't have found anyone better for this role. But don’t tell him I said that, I will never hear the end of it.”

“I’m glad you are getting along.”

Actually, you were still far from it. One day, you can be something akin to friends. 

You gave Amelie a summary of all missions and projects. 

“Aren’t you feeling lonely here, Amelie?” you asked. Day after day, she was there, on the endless shore among the waves. Time here is an abstract concept. “I can stay a little longer with you.”

But she rejected you harshly.

“No need.”

Amelie pushed you away, out of her Beach.

You woke up suddenly, almost falling off the chair near the couch you had fallen asleep on.

Sometimes during the night, you thought Higgs stopped breathing, but then you realized you’re just acting silly: he cannot truly die.

While relaxed, he looked completely different. You wondered how much chiralium altered his personality. 

You glanced at the clock. It was late morning. The couch was now empty, but the blanket was thrown clumsily over your shoulders.

You found Higgs in the kitchen, consuming your ice cream supplies. Of course, you looked at him judgmentally. Who eats ice cream first thing in the morning?

You sat in front of him, still cuddling in the blanket. The instructions for the sedative you gave him yesterday were lying on the table. He read it and saw it was barely working crap with a placebo effect.

He smirked victoriously, as if he had found out something to blackmail you.

“When did you plan on telling me?”

“Telling you what?”

“Don't play dumb now, Ghost. It's too late for this.”

At least he could say “thank you”. Is this charade — his way to show gratitude? You watched him eat another scoop of ice cream.

“I bought it at a discount.”

“I'm not talking about your vanilla ice cream collection! I'm asking why you never told me you have brainwashing superpowers!”

“I have a what?”

“It all lines up! Why Amelie and BTs like you, why you’re acting sometimes like a depressed zombie-”

“Higgs. I told you not to listen to any voices. I don't have any brainwashing superpowers.”

“Did you brainwash yourself into thinking that you don't have them or-”

Your long, unimpressed stare was enough of an answer. The table was ancient and in need of replacement. One of the legs was slightly broken, so the table wobbled every time you leaned on one of the edges. With Higgs’ active gesticulation, the empty ice cream container slid from one side of the table to the other.

“Don't admit it if you don't want to,” he shrugged, finally stopping touching your table. “Can't believe I'm saying this, but it helped. Just do it again.”

You were too tired to deal with Higgs being Higgs.

“Do you want me to do the exact same thing I did to you yesterday?”

“Yes. Tickle my brain again,” he waved his fingers and tapped his temple. You hung your comfortable blanket over the back of the chair and stood up, stretching your back. Your neck ached mercilessly. You will never sleep anywhere else but your bed.

He looked at you with anticipation, but you knew Higgs was just pretending, because in reality, he is embarrassed, but there is no going back.

You embraced him again, his cheek pressing into your collarbones.

He was stiff for a minute.

“No,” Higgs groaned. “Are you kidding me? Is this what I came for? A hug? From you?”

Did he have something against hugs in general or just you?

“I don't feel better,” he said almost immediately, but you wrapped your arms around his neck harder, not letting him get up.

“Just wait more than two seconds, Higgs.”

He waited three before continuing talking. 

“Let’s make things clear: I’m not your charity case, Ghost. I did it to ease your conscience, but for how long? I know what you are trying to do, but you can't play a savior; the sooner you realize it, the better.”

You didn't interrupt him; you didn't say anything back.

Sometimes you don’t understand him at all. Why does he have this mindset of eternal struggling?

Why does he see the worst in humans? Doesn't Higgs want to live happily?

“And why do you smell like a bunch of unicorns vomited rainbow over you?” he mumbled.

“This happens when you use the shower and soap.”

“Are you hinting I stink?”

You couldn’t say so. But he obviously lacked the flower scent of your soap. You took a deep breath, trying to understand what it reminds you of. Something like fresh forest air.

“You smell like the rain,” you concluded.

“Thanks, it happens when you stop pretending you are busy and step outside.”

“Mh.”

Higgs clung to words, saying anything to avoid being left in silence with you, as if words were his last line of defense. You patted his head instead of talking and ran your fingers through his hair.

He looked like a stray cat that was petted for the first time in his long, full of street violence life. At first, he wanted to pull away, but then he melted in your arms. Will he become addicted to the warmth of human touch? Will he start bringing dead things to your doorstep? You knew Higgs could find it amusing.

You felt how his final wall crumbled. With hesitation, Higgs wrapped his arms around you in response.

“Fine, you won this time, Ghost.”

Chapter Text

Loneliness isn't scary. If it were, why would Amelie be alone all the time? It's alright, she showed you. You shouldn't be afraid, and if you were, she would have stayed with you a little bit longer, among the souls of the dead that walked past you into the waves. She would let your tears fall into the sand, she would let you howl and scream until your voice dies down.

You are strong. You can survive this.

You repeated her words, but they didn't bring you comfort this time. You lie on your bed, an empty bucket near you just in case. It's your fault, honestly. You knew the limits of your body, but continued to use your powers. Now here's the consequences.

You wished to fall asleep and be greeted by Amelie on the other side. You were in condition when you were exhausted but too sick to close your eyes. Life is truly an eternal struggle. Now you sound just like Higgs.

“Stop hiding from me under the blanket. It won't save you.”

Ugh, you even hear his voice. Higgs was avoiding you for two weeks, straight up running away when he saw you. That's okay, you'll give him some space.

“C'mon! I have work for you to do!” You lifted your face from the pillow. Oh, he really was here, finally dared to show up. “You look worse than usual. What happened? Did you see a squirrel dying? Did you step on a bug?”

“DOOMS’ side effects,” you hid your head under the pillow.

“And for how long will you be unavailable?”

“Till I feel better.”

“And you’ll feel better when…”

He really needs you for something.

“Just bring me food.”

“Food, understood, on my way.”

“Higgs,” you called him before he had a chance to disappear. He turned around to look at you. “Not pizza, I have a sensitive stomach.”

“I wouldn’t give pizza to someone sick,” he rolled his eyes as if bringing you pepperoni wasn't his number one idea.

“Sure.”

You closed your eyes. Amelie would fix you with one snap of her fingers. But she isn't here. Never here when you need her. At least Higgs started to act more civilly. You weren’t hoping for a miracle, just for him to be more open. However, connecting with him — taking the smallest steps at a time.  

“Wakey-wakey,” Higgs shook your shoulder. It looks like you fell asleep for a while after all.  “Normal boring food has arrived.”

He was holding a steaming bowl of soup, which you gladly accepted.

“Careful, it’s hot.” 

You blew on it and took a small sip. Plain rice soup, barely salty — exactly what you needed and had in mind. Is it just a coincidence, or did he actually remember you mentioning this dish several times?

“It's tragic. You can't eat pizza, I mean. What a loss. Explains a lot about you,” he said, inspecting you eating. “You could have told me earlier. I wouldn't have thought you were acting bitchy when you turned down my invitation.”

You didn't think he would hold a grudge. Back then, you barely knew him, and his company was agitating. By now, you're used to his constant presence in your life. No, he's not a replacement for your friendship with Amelie, you assured yourself. Amelie is irreplaceable. You must communicate with Higgs to achieve a common goal and fulfill your destiny. Even if you do it when you just want to show him a funny picture or ask what he thinks about a new ice cream flavor. But no more than that.

“Are you crying? It can't be that bad.”

“No, it’s a good soup.” You wiped the corners of your eyes. It's just a reaction to hot food. “I like it. Where did you get it?”

Did he rob a granny? You imagined him holding a gun to someone’s gray head, hurrying them to cook faster. But it doesn't matter: after he gave you food, you're ready to do anything for him, no matter what stupid idea his imagination comes up with.

He looked at you with a satisfied smile before pointing a finger at himself.

“You cooked it?! No way! You told me you have no skills!”

“You don’t need to have ‘em to boil water,” he objected.

“It is a skill.”

“Please, raise your standards. And pull back these tears. Why so emotional today? Are you on your period?”

You frowned, fighting the urge to throw a pillow at him. But you yourself didn't understand the reason for the tears. Your body was reacting to something you couldn't remember.

“I have a strange feeling of deja vu. Like someone made soup for me when I was sick, too.” You shook your head, chasing away the unexpected wave of sadness. “I’m feeling better now. Let’s listen to your genius idea.”

Higgs brightened up, explaining his brilliant plan.

“I need you to steal the BRIDGES’ uniform for me.”

_ _ _

“It’s not going to work. He’ll recognize you immediately.”

“It will be funny. C’mon, darlin’, don’t be a killjoy.”

You tagged along just to witness his failure. You set eyes on Higgs with envy: how does he look so good in this ugly blue uniform? You both were wearing it. You not only got them, but passes, too. You could roam anywhere without even hiding, and no one would have any questions.

“Thank you for the trouble, my dear poltergeist,” he booped your nose and put a BRIDGES’ cap on your head. Maybe you were blushing, but you couldn’t see it without a mirror.

“You’re welcome,” you mumbled, waiting for the main star of the show to arrive. And here is Sam Porter Bridges. 

You stepped aside, watching Higgs play a clumsy but adorable worker guy asking for a favour.

“The context is fragile,” you cocked a brow, quoting him. Just what exactly happened between him and Fragile that he hates her to this extent? Were they just acquaintances, or does it smell like a love story with a broken heart and a venomous revenge? You wouldn’t ask, because he’d tell you to stop watching soap operas.

“Sam the man, clueless, as always,” Higgs giggled, showing his white teeth. You couldn’t believe Sam didn’t recognize him and fell for the trick. “Let's snoop around, while we have time,” he proposed. Finally, the activity you can enjoy.

Empty boxes in your arms were a part of the disguise because no one would pay attention to someone who looks busy in the middle of the workday. Higgs even said hello to other workers, and they nodded back. The place was huge, but what can be more engaging than exploring the rooms where you shouldn't set foot?

‘ Access denied ’ was written on the red screen when you scanned your pass. 

“Closed doors? Not on my watch!”

Closed doors mean secrets. Secrets mean something hidden for you to find out.

You took Higgs's forearm and dragged him through the wall with you.

“Who would lock the room full of trash?” The shelves were filled from ceiling to floor with folders of papers. Seriously, who stores information like that these days? To find something useful here, you'll have to dig around for hours. You glanced behind. “Higgs!”

His knees hit the ground. He held a hand over his mouth.

“Gods, my insides are about to get out of me.”

You rushed to his aid.

“Sorry! I didn't expect it to affect you! With your level of DOOMS… I'm so sorry! Take a deep breath, it'll pass soon.”

You held your warm hand between his shoulder blades.

“In and out, Higgs. Breathe.”

He followed your advice.

“No wonder you are often sick.”

“I'm used to this,” you replied. “Aren't you feeling the same when jumping?”

“No.”

It's absolutely not the same feeling. Your ability felt like you threw him in a blender and then put his body back together piece by piece.

“Sorry. I won't use it on you again.”

“Don’t apologise, I'm fine,” he groaned. Higgs needed five more minutes of you patting his back before he could stand. “The excursion is over,” he proclaimed, teleporting you both away.

Of course, he brought you to his hideout and instantly fell on his bed. But now his rooms looked tidier, less chaotic. His “Wall of Sam” was more structured. But there was a lot of work to be done. You smelled the lemon scent of cleaning products.

“Did you clean up?”

“I tried,” he said, putting his hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling. “But what's the point? We're all gonna die.”

Yes, it’s a perfect excuse basically for everything. What's the point of going outside? What's the point of making the bed? But even if they are the most pointless actions, they must be done. Taking a shower, brushing your teeth. These are the little habits that keep you moving.

“At least you tried. I'm proud of you.”

“Don’t be absurd,” he cut you off. It wouldn't hurt for Higgs to learn how to accept praise. “Better tell me how your ghost things work?”

You thought the mechanic was obvious.

“I'm leaving my body at the Beach while my soul goes through the walls, and then I connect my body back.”

“That's fucked.”

“Not at all! It's a matter of milliseconds.”

“Doesn't time flow differently on the Beach?” Higgs had a point. “It can be hours for your body. And then in your forties you’ll be all gray and wrinkled.”

“We won’t survive to that age,” you said easily. In the best case (or worst, depending on how you look at it), humanity has a couple of months left. “Besides, Amelie would warn me.”

Of course.

You came closer to him until you were disturbing his view of the ceiling.

“Can you jump me back home?”

You didn't need his response to see the answer on his face. He can, but he doesn't want to, because this means getting out of bed.

“Spend the night here.”

What an absurd proposal.

“You have only one bed,” you said, as if it were the only reason why it's unacceptable.

“We can share,” he made an incredible effort to move and make room for you. This will barely be enough. “Like a sleepover.”

“No, thanks. I will walk. Rest well.”

From his cozy bunker to yours is a long, wonderful walk. You can make it.

“Miss me?” he glanced at you with a smile when you marched back.

“There’s timefall outside.”

The shitty uniform won't save you from the deadly rain. And you wouldn't risk using your DOOMS for so long. 

“How unfortunate,” he said without the slightest sympathy.

Maybe you'll wait here for the rain to stop. But judging by Higgs' expression, he knows it'll rain all night (he's the one who made it rain, after all).

You looked around again. Something golden on the table caught your attention. A mask, not his usual skull, but it bore a similar resemblance. You felt like a raven, attracted to all shiny things.

“The first design, not chiralium, just plastic,” Higgs commented from the bed, noticing your interest. “Do you like it? Take it. Not like I’m going to wear it again.”

He was planning to give this to you: a small gift to show that he could be more than an asshole. Actually, he gave you presents before.

Back then, he had to wave his hand in front of your face or snap his fingers to get your attention. Only then would you look at him and blink like a robot.

“Come with me, Ghost, I have something cool to show you,” Higgs beckoned you to follow, and your steps were heard behind.

He worked hard to make them. Some attempts were unsuccessful, but he was pleased with the results. He didn't do it for you, but why not kill two birds with one shot?

“Whatcha think? Aren't they charming and playful?”

The lion-like BT waited for his command. This one was Higgs' favourite. You opened your mouth, never seeing this type of BT.

“They are obedient and listen to me. If you want to play with dangerous things, go on, but at least with these, I do not need to worry about you being eaten.”

“They wouldn't hurt me,” you countered. You didn’t understand the reasons for his concern. The stranded souls posed no threat, but you apologised for worrying him. You agreed to spend your time with the BTs he can control to ease his mind.

You lie down on the very edge, your elbow touching his side. Now you are staring at his white ceiling too, searching for any crack. Both of you are still in the shitty blue uniform, but you removed the boots and the jacket. 

“Why are you always wearing them?”

You poked at his gloves. The fabric doesn't look thin. On the contrary, they were made for rough work. You couldn't wear these all day, but you've never seen Higgs without them. He doesn’t act like he has mysophobia. Does he hide ugly scars or other skin conditions?

“It's better if I don't take off my gloves,” he said without explaining anything.

“Why?”

“Why don't you take them off and see for yourself?”

His sly smile promised nothing good. You should leave this topic. But you pulled the glove off one hand.

“Not this stupid prank!” you squeaked, covering your face and falling off the edge to the floor. “Turn this off!”

Higgs chuckled, waving his hand that turned into the black, mist-like flames of tar. 

“I can’t,” he simply put the glove back on. No handshakes with humans for him, but the creatures of the other side don't care about humans’ traditions.

“You aren’t funny,” you whipped the drops of the black liquid from your face. 

“It’s not a joke. Now you know why I need them.”

“Surely, Amelie explained how to switch it back.”

“No, it’s permanent.”

You stood up and squished his shoulders.

“Higgs, tell me you haven't walked around with your hands in this condition for gods know how long!” The volume of your voice rose in disbelief. You desperately wanted him to say he's just messing with you. “It isn’t permanent! It’s a stupid prank Amelie pulled on me to make me cry for two days straight!”

He never saw you truly angry. Irritated? Yes. Pissed, annoyed, but never furious. There was fire burning in your eyes. Wow, that’s hot. But this anger wasn't directed at him. You weren't just angry, you were angry on his behalf, at Amelie.

“She thinks she’s hilarious, but I swear, sometimes she doesn’t know where to draw the line!”

This ability is of no use! It is not practical! And definitely not worth the trouble! Why did Amelie do that to him?! You bet she thought he would react just like you, but Higgs is Higgs, and then she forgot about that “little” inconvenience.

And Higgs’s mentality! He took it as granted, probably thinking that’s what he deserves, or it's only a side effect of having powers.

He and Amelie are similar. Oh, I'm having nightmares? This is a vision of the future that can't be avoided. My body is slowly and painfully dying of cancer? This is punishment for not fulfilling my purpose.

“You should have complained to me right away! I know how to deal with her antics.”

You exhaled loudly. Okay, you know how to fix this. It wouldn’t erase the previous damage, tho.

Higgs held his mouth shut. He could say he’s fine, but according to your words, he wasn’t fine for a single day in his life, and you paint it in a very depressing light. He was quite shocked by your reaction, even more by the truth you revealed. The ability was useful in creating and controlling BTs, so you overreacted on that part. But Higgs isn’t an idiot to refuse a chance to get rid of it. Gloves aren't the best way to feel some things through them. But it could always be worse, right?

“I'll do the trick,” you proclaimed, full of determination. The aura of wrath was still around you. You grabbed his hands, pulling off the gloves again and concentrating. 

You interlocked your fingers with his, or rather, where his were supposed to be.

“And… the trick.”

He could feel the texture of your skin. One blink is all that Higgs needed to see his actual hands again. His thumb runs circles around your joints. He can't even say when he last held hands with someone, if he ever did.

He would sell his soul (or the leftovers of it) to press his lips to yours for a single hasty kiss. But he wouldn't be satisfied: he won't let you breathe. Higgs tends to ruin all the good things in his life, so he’s sure he’ll mess up as well, accidentally biting you instead. This is what he is: repays kindness with animalistic violence. He'll destroy you, and you won't even try to resist. But for now, he doesn’t want to spook you with his careless actions. Maybe he misunderstood you, and you don’t like him in that way at all (he’s kidding, you’re obviously, one hundred percent into him).

You lie on the same pillow, your noses almost touching. You kept talking about Amelie, your voice slowly turning into a background noise. Sometimes you sounded like you had known Amelie your entire life, sometimes like you were talking about a completely different person who happened to share Amelie’s name.

“You know so many interesting things!” Your words echoed from the past, when you only met each other. You asked about his tattoos, and Higgs poured out a whole verbal stream on you, completely overexplaining, but he was glad that finally someone showed a true interest. You smiled at him for the first time. “I think we can be great friends.”

Yeah… friends…  Now he doesn't feel like laughing at those words.

Does it make sense to create such a connection with you? Any connection? Whether it's just friendship or romance? It has a chance to backfire on him. Attachment is dangerous, especially when you and he both know what the end will be for everyone.

Higgs can serve his purpose without you.

But he didn’t let go of your hands yet, and you didn’t move them away either. 

Chapter Text

One particular member of the Homo Demens always irritated Higgs. Not that they did anything, but every time Higgs saw them, bells rang in his head: something was wrong. Higgs paid no attention to them when they joined; he didn't care about any of them, not their personal lives, not their faces, not even their names, as long as they all did what he told them to.

But his intuition screamed, “Pay attention!” He can just walk up to them any time and order them to remove their mask and split the whole autobiography. But something was unusual about all Homo Demens (more unusual than usual, Higgs noted; he knew they were a bunch of freaks). They all seemed… happier, and friendlier. No more random screams of agony from afar, fights, or bloody violence… The base slowly became boring, as if in their brains were directly broadcast all seasons of “My Little Pony”, teaching them a valuable lesson about connections, ugh. 

Then his nose caught a faint, familiar sweet smell that he called rainbow vomit.

“Wait a minute,” he thought, “I didn’t see my local poltergeist for a while.”

Suspiciously, you didn’t try to jumpscare him, appearing from nowhere behind his back, or doing any other creepy ghost things you were unaware you were doing, like flickering in the corner of his eyes or moving his stuff around. 

And that one certain member of the Homo Demens was just the right height with the same silly gait as you.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” he pressed you against the wall when he spotted you alone. He hoped it was really you, because otherwise, he was just harassing some random person. “I know it’s you, darlin’.”

Thankfully, his inner ghost-locator worked absolutely perfectly.

“How did you recognize me?” You took off your black and gold helmet and blinded him with your bright smile. You looked too pleased for someone who had just been caught, as if you were waiting for him to win in your hide-and-seek game.

“Were you inspired to steal the uniform and dress up by our previous adventure?” he asked instead.

“I didn’t steal it! I kindly asked,” you corrected him. You didn’t want to stand out.

“Yeah, and my guys just gave it to you with no questions, sure.” He can't believe the Homo Demens’ base still exists with this attitude.

“They meant to ask you first, and I said I’ll ask you myself, but they think I’m your wife, remember? So they gave it to me just because of that,” you blubbered.

“You didn’t ask me.”

“Because you’d immediately kick me out!”

“Exactly!” Higgs exclaimed, finally getting to the point. “What are you doing here? You told me you are super busy with some project!”

“I’m studying the effects of chiralium on the human body,” you boasted. This is your extremely important project.

“Here?”

“Yes! In a place full of people with chiralium contamination! Actually, I made excellent progress! Wanna see the diagrams?”

Higgs felt his nerves were on edge. That's it. He jumped you back to your shelter.

“No! What are you doing?!” You grabbed him, understanding what he did, as if it could stop him from leaving. 

“I’m kicking you out.”

“Bring me back! I didn’t finish my survey!” You pouted. “I didn’t bother you, you didn’t know I was here at all!”

“No,” was his simple answer, before he left you and jumped again.

Higgs sighed. You wouldn't cry because of it, wouldn't you? He can't deal with you right now, especially if you start crying. Stab him with a dull rusty knife instead; he'll be more grateful.

You care about him, he repeats. When did someone genuinely care about him the last time in his life? Never?

Maybe you are just quick to get attached to shitty people like him. Maybe that's why Amelie, in secret, recently warned him to keep his distance. Not because she was jealous and didn't want him to look in the direction of her precious pet, but because this is what happens when you are too fond of someone, and now you are his problem.

But he is tired of constantly questioning if it's a breeze or your breath on his skin, if he's hallucinating or seeing you for a second in reflections. You will be great in the psychological torture department. Or you are right and he's going crazy from chiralium.

Higgs needs to put a stop to your “visits”.

He can't let you accidentally walk into him while he’s about to make morally ambiguous decisions, because it means listening to a lecture about his behaviour from you. Not like he can completely stop you. He has no idea when you are hiding in plain sight. Thankfully, at least you didn't learn how to use the Beach for teleporting; otherwise, you would be a true inescapable menace.

He watched the messages from you start to appear on the screen — a few missed calls from you as well. Temptation to temporarily block you slowly grew.

You even sent him copies of your research! Almost five hundred pages, really? And why can't you have a normal hyperfixation? Like collecting stones or solving murder mysteries…

In one of the “experiments”, you literally described how you bribed his people with cookies to check the increase in dopamine level.

Is it a whole chapter about him and your observations of his condition…?

Didn't you have something more urgent to do? Higgs was about to delete all of that crap from his data storage. But he saw the words “cure” and “sex” in the same sentence. Who wouldn't be interested in his place?

_ _ _ 

You liked Higgs. 

It was terrible, no good, totally bad news.

It's not just “Oh, I like him,” but straight up “Heavens, I think I have a crush on him,” kind of situation. You woke up one day with a realization of your feelings, and you wished to bury yourself under your pillow and never show your face to him ever again.

He will never shut up about it once he finds out. If he finds out. It will no longer be the jokes you used to tease each other. No, it will be a fact, and nothing cuts as precisely and deeply as the truth.

Higgs will eat you alive, leaving no crumbs.

“How could I have let this happen?!” you pulled your hair. It's impossible! 

Higgs is awful. His dark humour isn't funny in the slightest. He's cruel. And refuses to listen to you when you tell him about chiralium contamination. He's a walking catastrophe, and you don't want to be a part of it.

But his boyish smile is so charming, tho.

“Stop thinking about him!” You slapped your cheeks. It wasn't helpful.

But… but Higgs can be kind and caring, right? He can be vulnerable and open. Maybe you fell for his potential goodness, the person he can be, if not for… what?

“Excuses! Cheap excuses!”

Higgs is the type of guy who will break your heart without thinking twice, and then laugh at you, and you'll let him.

But when he's near, the world seems brighter and full of colour, not just the monochrome gray of the Beach. He provokes you into feeling a whole spectrum of emotions, not just eternal solitude among the endless sand and waves.

And… you enjoyed his closeness. When you hugged him, you felt at ease.

“When did it start?!”

It wasn't love at first sight for sure.

Did he do anything specific to cause the feelings, or did all the interactions between you slowly lead up to this?

Why have you never considered him attractive before, but now? His face had never disgusted you, but why did the sight of him make your heart race now? Especially when he wasn't afraid to unceremoniously invade your personal space, leaning closer?

“Is it because of the soup?!”

You should drown yourself in a pit of tar. 

“Higgs!” you saw his name on the screen and immediately accepted the call.

“Hello, darlin’,” his voice gave you butterflies in the stomach, completely erasing from your tongue everything you wanted to say.

He started to call you darling and dear, instead of Ghost, and used other pet names (you still were convinced he didn't remember your real name).

“Compromise,” he suddenly proposed. “What if I visit you later in the evening and you run all the tests you want on me?”

It sounds too good to be true.

“What is your gain?”

“Do I need a profit for not wanting to upset my dear phantom?” he sing-songed.

“Yes, you do,” you replied without hesitation.

“Don’t walk around unannounced,” he gave up on holding the facade and changed his tone to diplomatic. The negotiations began. “I want to know when you are near. Better yet, message me beforehand.”

“It’s doable. Anything else?”

“I’d say don't come here anymore at all, but you won't listen to me.”

Is he about to do something shady? Your nails are digging into your palm. You have to tell him.

“I will have no reason to come if I know you're okay,” you confessed to him. “I don't want to find out your kidneys failed from toxins or you jumped off a roof because of hallucinations. Amelie and I need you to be sane and well.”

He’s an important, crucial part of the plan. Amelie cannot succeed without him. 

“Can you do it for her sake?”

“Fine,” he agreed. “I wouldn't mind visiting you more often so you can see for yourself that you're exaggerating.”

“Really? Promise?”

“Promise,” he chuckled, hanging up. You swirled around, giggling like a little girl. Your cheeks hurt from all that smiling. Your eyes landed on the mask he gifted to you.

But a relationship with him doesn't make sense, does it? You understand that perfectly well. He’s unreliable; if you were in danger, he won't risk his skin to save you or help you. Unlike you. You have no luxury to be a damsel in distress; that’s why you are always careful, thinking ten steps ahead. You'll never be in dangerous situations, so you'll never have to doubt whether Higgs will play your knight in shining armor.

Sparks of something bigger danced between you. Perhaps he feels the same way.

But you have a mission, a promise to fulfill. Humanity will sink into a sweet nothingness, no more fear or suffering. And you are sure Higgs isn't the type of guy who wants to settle in, isn't he? No plans for a long-term relationship, just one-nighters.

“I'm making it up. I don't know him in that way,” you extremely wanted to blacken his image in your head. If only you could speak with Amelie again freely, like you did before! It would calm your mind and heart. 

_ _ _

“What am I, a delivery service? At this point, I should open one.”

As Higgs promised, he was at your doors. You pretended not to have been waiting for him all day. Instead, you immediately gave him the coordinates where he needed to teleport you to. 

“Higgs Express. Delivered with free snarky remarks,” you took his hand in yours, expecting the jump. In some alternate reality, he could actually be Fragile’s rival. You bet, with his charms, he would be even more popular than she. 

You needed a laboratory. You knew which one to choose and which one contained all the necessary equipment.

The idea of giving you full access to his body and letting you do whatever you want with him started to sound slightly less exciting for him.

Here, in the lab, you were natural, moving with grace and accuracy. 

“The scientist you are referring to has the same last name as you,” he noted. You were surprised he actually read at least some parts of your work, and even more: he knew your last name.

“Huh? Must be a coincidence. My last name is quite common.”

Higgs flipped through pages and pages, the graphs and charts. The beginning was well-written and edited, simple to understand for anyone, but the latest chapters were in chaos: a bunch of unsorted theses and running ideas with a different writing style.

“Take off the top and lie here,” you nodded at the examination couch.

“So this is your plan. How naughty. And I thought you were going to treat me to dinner first.”

“Chop-chop!” You already held the wires in your hands. You have approximately half an hour before the security system will be turned back on, which means no time for blushing from Higgs’ stupid jokes. Be professional. 

You swallowed hard when you saw him undressed like you asked.

“How many tattoos do you have?” You didn't know he had them all over his body.

“Why don’t you look and find o… Ouch!” he was interrupted by you sticking a cold electrode to his forehead.  

_ _ _

“And what conclusions did you draw?” All tests that you could perform in the lab were finished, and you allowed Higgs to dress back. You've been waiting for the results to download, and erased all traces of your presence here from the system. Now, Higgs must know for sure all the horrible side effects that chiralium toxicity can cause, thanks to the years of scientific progress you have compiled into one file.

“Physical intimacy is a great treatment, including kisses and sex.”

You slowly turned to face him. Out of the entire text, is that the single chapter he read? Again, why do you even like him? He stopped smiling, noticing your expression of utter disappointment and disapproval. Well, Higgs tends to say the wrong things at the wrong time.

“Before you go diving into a sex life,” the words bounced coldly off your teeth. You don’t want to imagine him with someone else. Does he have a lover you don’t know about? “I have to warn you: it won’t work on you if you are not actively in love with someone, or attracted to that person, or at least like them.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s how the chemicals in our brains work,” you explained. If he actually paid more attention to what you sent to him... “You can’t just fuck someone and expect it to cure you.”

“Yeah, it would be too easy to be true,” he yawned. “So, the answer is love?”

“There’s the neat part,” you glared at him until he froze, waiting for you to continue. “Love is not enough to save you.”

A sad smile appeared on your lips. You explained further.

“You can be loved by everyone, you can love someone, but chiralium directly affects our brains and chemical reactions. It’s a constant fight in your body for control. But with time, chiralium wins. It suppresses you until one day you wake up deciding you want to kill yourself. This is why it’s so dangerous, including effects on the liver or other organs. Of course, it’s when you reach a certain gap. Before that point, being in love with someone can help you. But I’d rather change “being in love” to “having a deep connection.”

Of course, it all comes down to connections.

A heavy silence fell in the room. You tugged on his sleeve, ready to go home.

“Why are you absorbed in this?” he asked, making a jump back to your shelter. You’ll never get fully used to the sensation.

“Can’t a girl have a weirdly specific scientific interest?” you winked. “I need a few more minutes to decipher your results.” 

It was already past midnight. He won’t mind waiting a little bit more. You stared at the screen, trying to recall the normal limits of each value. Your eyes widened.

In the lab, you became curious about how Higgs’ brain activity would change upon contact. He weirdly glanced at you, as if you were fooling him and grossly overstepping. But he agreed to another hug. You didn't consider that he was half-naked and how that would affect you. He was warm. You felt his muscles under your fingertips. You convinced yourself to breathe evenly; otherwise, he would hear your heartbeat.

You must have made a mistake somewhere. Because the results of that test look like he likes-

“I need the instruction to be sure. Can you bring it to me? It's somewhere in a box on the top shelf in the kitchen.”

Higgs obediently got up and dragged his feet. You trailed after him, pointing to the cabinet. He took out the box, which you could barely reach without a chair.

“But don’t put it on the…” You didn't have a chance to finish the sentence because he did exactly what you were trying to prevent. “...table.”

He placed the box on the edge of the table. The old, wobbling table. The box fell to the floor with a thud. Everything inside was scattered around.

“It’s not my fault,” he washed his hands of it, looking at the mess. “Why haven't you thrown away this table yet?”

“Because I like it,” you leaned over, picking up the book.

“Don't understand how you can like something that's broken and dysfunctional.” 

You snorted. Yes, you also wondered why. 

You returned to the computer, and your eyes were glued to the screen. No way! Blood rushed to your face. Could the device be broken or have a large error? It's either that or you have scientific proof that he likes you.

“A piece has fallen off. That's why it's wobbling,” Higgs' voice came from the kitchen, distracting you. You leaned back in your chair, peering in his direction. He removed the tablecloth, examining the broken leg. “I'll see if I can find a part that will fit here.”

That would be nice. Even if it sounds silly, you don't want to replace your table with another one. Not when it has a chance to be fixed.

Higgs saw a small paper under his feet. It also fell out of the box. Ah, it’s a photo. In the middle sat a middle-aged man with graying hair; the smiling blonde with a huge resemblance to the man stood on the left, perhaps the eldest daughter. The other girl on the right was obviously you in your teenage years. It’s your family, Higgs concluded. You had the same eyes and nose as they. On the photo were no captions or dates.

“You haven't changed much,” he came up to you, showing you his find. You squinted your eyes. The semi-darkness helped hide your panic. Relax, Higgs won’t know that you know, but your heart kept hammering from proximity.

“It’s not me,” you said in all seriousness, offended. Either he has vision problems, or you do. Maybe it's because you're tired and it's time for you to go to bed. “We are not alike at all. Where do you see similarities?”

“Then why keep it if it's not you?” he asked the most logical thing.

“I was probably searching for something about these people. I used to do this a lot for Amelie,” you shrugged.

“You are crying again,” he said, touching your cheek, wiping away the sudden tear. You blinked in confusion. Crying? Why?

“I've been staring at the screen for too long.” 

_ _ _

Higgs didn't tell you: he and Amelie had their own meetings. Meetings you weren’t invited to. 

He was absolutely satisfied. You weren't the only one who was good at finding out secrets. Today, he learned something special, something worthy of asking the Lady in Red.

Something about you.

He bowed as if bowing in front of queens. But any earthy titles would not suit her. ‘A goddess’ can suffice.

“We won't need her services anymore. From now on, I can do everything myself,” he would say they don’t need you from the very beginning. But with you, the process has been significantly accelerated. “You've deceived her long enough. Soon, even someone like her will realize your promise is impossible nonsense.”

“I don't doubt her loyalty,” Amelie stated. “She will not let me down or turn against me.”

She's known you for too long. You'll understand why she did it. You'll accept whatever she decides. After all, Amelie is doing it for your own good. After all, you'll forgive her anything.

But she was surprised by the way Higgs was acting hostile towards you again. Amelie thought that, from what you said, you and Higgs had become close. She realized she was wrong. You were wrong.

Higgs smirked behind his mask. His uncle taught him well: don’t show that you like something if you don’t want it to be taken away.

“I know what you did to your pet, Amelie.” She tensed at his words. “Our lovely Ghost has noticeable gaps in her memories. Can't recognise herself in the old photos. Cannot recall her family. As if someone redacted her brain, don't you think so?”

He wonders: is this the work of Amelie? Or did chiralium make you a few holes in your mind? Or both at the same time.

Your father was a chiralium researcher, one of the first under Bridges' control. He was the one in the photo. Higgs dug through the tangle of information and found an incredibly peculiar thing.

Your father: deceased.

Your older sister: deceased.

Finally, the same words opposite your name: deceased.

“Solved the puzzle. Her daddy dearest researched chiralium, went nuts because of it, and offed himself. Then - boom! - and his daughters had the worst timing to save the daddy.”

That's what happened, right?

“The thing is, he worked on you.”

He worked for Bridged Strand under constant pressure to do more, faster.

“But you arrived on time to give one of the girls power.”

Did you watch them slowly die from the toxins? Did you die yourself, or did it all happen quickly?

These are his guesses. You know the whole truth, or at least you did. He has no doubt that Amelie knows everything as well, but she neither confirms nor denies.

In fact, the file stated that you were a sufferer. You had some abilities back then. Did you play a role in your father's research? Were you a full-fledged Ghost, or was it the tragedy with your family that caused your powers to blossom? Were you really there during the voidout? Did you really survive it?

Did Amelie intervene because she felt guilty?

“Your accusations are unfounded,” Amelie furrowed her brows. “I don't have to justify my actions to you. I helped her. I gave her a new purpose. It’s all that matters.”

“But her grief isn't erased completely. She still feels it, just doesn't understand why.”

“Don't provoke her for your own entertainment,” she demanded. “Don't hurt her more than necessary, Higgs.”

“I'll do her no harm.”

Because Amelie said so. Because he didn't want to see you cry again.

“One more thing.” It had been bothering him and haunting him ever since he first saw you. He looked into Amelie's eyes. “Is she alive?”

“Only if she wants to be.”