Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

    It’s a beautiful winter evening somewhere. It’s not beautiful for Pest, who’s sitting in the subway rubbing his hands like he’s trying to make fire. 

    He’s waiting for the Regretevator, obviously, but with no clear intention of what he’ll do once he’s on it. It’s too cold to think about that right now. His main regret is leaving his den at all, but he was getting so restless back home. All alone in that dark and stale place, all of his building projects at a standstill for lack of parts and funds…  Nothing like some fresh air and bodily movement to clear his mind and pass the time.

     This air was not fresh. This air was icicles, and gasoline. He liked one of these aspects.

    He thought about the apple in his pocket and how it was taking up so much space that his hands could be occupying instead, but if he put his hands in his hoodie’s pocket then he’d have to touch the apple, and the apple will not warm his hands. It might make his hands colder. Stupid stuuupid big idiot dumb bug just had to bring an apple. 

    I could solve this by eating it right now. He thought, But I don’t want to eat the apple right now. I could take it out and place it on the bench next to me… but someone might take it. Worse, someone might ask why I’m sitting next to an apple. Like, "Is that your little Apple, Pest? there goes Pest with his apple, again ! Pest’s little apple !"

    He bounced his knee nervously, getting worked up in this imagined scenario. He didn’t notice the subway train pulling up in between having an internal dilemma and trying to stop being cold.

  Pest the apple lover. That’s what they’ll call me. They’ll call me Fruit Boy.   "Here comes Fruit Boy, Apple lover, on the regretevator! Got any new fruit, fruit boy?" Jesus CHRIST I cannot let anyone know about this.

    Poob’s party horn slapped him gently on the cheek like a kiss from a disoriented chameleon, and his internal dialogue bubble popped like a balloon. Pest didn’t scream or jump, or anything like that. His eyes just got huge. He looked at Poob from the corner of his eye. With murderous intent. 

    “Earth 2 Bug! Haiii!” Poob chimed, aware of the violence brewing inside of the bug but used to it at this point, “Welcom back!! Tha elevator jus opened up, Pesty :3 Thot u’d wanna kno!” 

    “I knew that already.” He bold-face lied, and in the same breath tried to steal Poob’s wallet since he noticed it sticking out of their pocket a bit. Poob, genuinely unaware of this, managed to flawlessly dodge the robbery by rolling off of the bench in some sort of partial cartwheel and skipping joyfully over to the elevator. 

    Whatever,  He thought. Poob usually carried monopoly money and coupons these days, anyway. He shoved himself off of the cold bench, duly noting how ice-numb his behind was, and shuffled cooly to the welcoming, warm elevator doorway. 

    There weren’t many folks on at this hour; Aside from Poob, none of the usuals were here and there were only two "Randos" as opposed to the inhuman mob he usually had to crouch past. Someone who looked like a little green cat person, notably not Gnarpy (thank god) and some tired looking man in a top hat. Literally not important, though. They seemed to be minding their own business, muttering about “daily stickers” or something. He’d been hearing Randos talk about stickers a lot, actually.

    Pest stood in front of one of the vents that was, thankfully, blasting warm air instead of fire and ice. Trying to hide the fact that he was warming his frozen ass, He leaned back against the elevator’s railing with an air of cool nonchalance and an indifferent expression, staring off at the elevator doors like he was deep in (completely chill) thought. No one had to know about his numb buttcheeks and no one had to know about the apple or how much he was thinking about the apple.

    Good grief, why did he bring an entire apple? Unsliced? Whole? Now that he thought about it again, it was kind of obvious he had some sort of ball in his pocket, only emphasized by his cool and indifferent pose jutting his torso out.

    Thankfully it was just Poob in here who’d live to tell the tale and he did not care what Poob thought about him or his stupid apple. He heard them giggle right as he thought this, and glanced over. Poob was imitating his pose, copying his resting Pest face the moment they knew they’d got his attention.   

    The railings rapidly became red hot and they both screamed in pain before either could comment, ending this dubiously flirtatious charade. Ding! The next floor begins, the Randos skitter out like rats and leave Pest and Poob to writhe and hiss about their burnt elbows. 

    “Ooowwe! 3: I shud have seen that comin… But it was preddy funny, ” Poob said, ever making light of a bad situation, “Hummm.. u shud probably move from the vent. Did u kno it shoots fire sumtime-”

    “I am aware.” Pest grumbled, “I would have noticed the railings, too.” 

    Poob tilted their head, eyes crinkling in a big smile. They tooted their party horn in lieu of a verbal reply.  Pest, baffled at this response, crossed his arms and mumbled something scathing in his first language.

    “:o!” Poob said, somehow, “Dats not Japanese! I mean, I still dun kno any Japanese, but I think iv figured out da sound of it from listenin 2 u swear at us all the time. lol.” 

    The bug actually considered responding genuinely and explaining that, well, lately people have been actually understanding him when he speaks Japanese. Which is honestly too little too late given how hard he worked to learn Japanese only to end up in a predominantly english-speaking community. But the point stands; people have started to recognize when he calls them dumb as bricks or to kill themselves, so he’s started to speak his native language when he wants to be a catty bitch with no repercussions.

    “It’s Beetle.” He replied plainly and noncommittal. Poob tooted their party horn excitedly!

    “OMG! I shud have known! Hay, Can u teach me sum?” They bounced closer to Pest, clapping their hands giddily. Pest glanced at the open elevator and back at the excited golden retriever getting dangerously close to glomping him.

    “Do I look like a teacher?” He hissed, leaning back slightly, then righting himself immediately because the railing was still HOT!! Poob muttered a little “o oopsy careful!” at that. 

    “Mayb! Ur rlly smart, so u mite be real gud at it,” The noob smiled so big, “u kno three languages an make puters and stuff!”  Pest really enjoyed compliments, so he couldn’t help but brighten up a little at his genius being acknowledged. BUT IT WAS POOB. SO HE SLUNK AWAY AGAIN. 

    “Thanks.” He said, deceptively deadpan, “I am not teaching you anything.” 

    The party of Randos scuttled back into the Regretevator, looking singed by flames with a group 500 yard stare. There was a third one now, some kind of frilly-dress cat person with skeleton arms. Gross.

    Poob tooted their horn and beamed as the new Rando threw rose petals at them. Pest hissed at the same petals. They were nice, though he never quite understood why Randos… did this. 

    “The Pest,” The skeleton cat announced, “And. The Poob. Good elevator. But I can make it better.” 

    Everyone watched as the skeleton cat slotted in a ticket and called up the next floor- The subway! Again..?! Pest grit his teeth, not wanting to go in a circle. The whole point of this trip was to find something else to do. Poob nudged Pest in the ribcage, having gotten in his personal space without his noticing again.

    “Innit weird how dey always kno our names..?” Poob said shockingly softly- So much so that their speech bubble didn’t render for the Randos to read. 

    Pest wanted to comment on that, but the elevator doors opened to an unsettling apparition. A beetle, like him… Dark clothes, Red eyes, 5’9’’... It was a second Pest. Neither had ever encountered this phenomenon before. They locked eyes, bodies rigid with a growing, boiling, barely contained rage of a dachshund that wants nothing more than to obliterate the dog in the mirror.

    “THE PEST! ….TWO! Ok AFK now,” The skeleton-cat Rando cheered, and then stopped moving. Their expression changed to reflect the departure of their soul. 

    Poob had a death grip on the back of their Pest’s hoodie, having recognized the murder in their buggy buddy’s beady eyes as Actually Gonna Do It This Time and they needed to take initiative. The second Pest took a slow step inside of the Regretevator, silent, unblinking, slow like a stalking cat ready to pounce.

    “Umm,” They frantically tugged at their bug, panic growing in their eyes, “Umm um um, hay! Pest. let- let’s go out, um, ther, an mayb cool down!” Poob tried their absolute best to drag their killer insect friend past the doppelganger and into the winter underground but Pest was deceptively built like a truck- It was pure muscle under that average looking exoskeletal frame.

    Like a miracle and act of god, The small green cat person who was Not Gnarpy scuttled between them all innocently and managed to knock the apple from Pest’s pocket, breaking his death battle staredown.

    He cussed, shooting one last violent look at the other Pest, and dashed frantically after the runaway fruit. He managed to rescue it seconds before it fell into the tracks of the subway and to the fate of the speeding train. Poob’s hand was still gripping the back of his hoodie. 

    The Regretevator unceremoniously shut it’s door behind them.

    “Um… Pest.. . Y did u react lik that?” They asked, Their party horn nearly falling out of their mouth from how they were shivering.

    “I will kill that freak the next time I see him.” Pest said gravely, not necessarily in reply to Poob but a promise to the open air of the subway. He was still on his knees in front of the tracks, clutching his silly little apple to his chest.

    “Omg no! I meet other Poobs all da time, It’s literally just u.” Poob tried to explain the phenomenon, lightheartedly patting his back in assurance,  “Like, actually.”

     Pest was silent for a moment, then narrowed his eyes.

    “Exactly.” He hissed.

    Poob’s brows furrowed in concern but they didn’t have time to unpack that rite nao. They offered Pest a hand and he stubbornly righted himself without their help, brushed off his pants, looked at his wrist and approximated the time because he didn’t have a watch but he did recognize the train that nearly obliterated his delicious apple.

    The train that actually stopped here was roughly 15 minutes behind the one that doesn’t, so he had 15 minutes to kill before he could begin the journey home. If he was really desperate, he could walk or take a taxi, but 1. It’s COLD 2. He didn’t want to pay for a cab and 3. Macabre city, on foot, alone, at THIS hour? That’s like begging to be mugged. Not that anyone could successfully mug him since his exoskeleton was pretty good against knives and bullets, but he hated the hassle of it all. It’s just, so awkward getting mugged. 

    Though, hmm.. Maybe it would help blow off steam if he could get into a fight? He was still gritting his teeth pretty hard and couldn’t tell if he was shaking from the winter night kicking his ass or from how much he wanted to murder the other Pest still.

    “Hay… Mayb… Do u n-need to splash water on ur f-face or so-somethin?” Poob suggested after observing Pest’s face twitch occasionally through his extended internal monologue. The idea of putting water on his face when he could already feel his tear ducts freezing was so unpleasant that it snapped him out of the weird mood he was in. He shook his head and made a displeased noise.

    "O-okay..! We-welL are y- u gonna be oka-y..??” Poob stuttered out, sniffling. Why was Poob stuttering, actually? The beetle finally stopped looking at the middle distance and realized that Party “Poob” Noob was wearing A Fucking Tank Top in The Dead Of Winter. His stone heart cracked a little at the pathetic sight and he couldn’t bring himself to even make fun of it because, dude ? 

    “...Yeah, I’m alright. Are.. you?” Pest asked in the same, surprisingly soft intonation he does when he realizes he shouldn’t be mean to Spud. Poob had never heard this directed towards themself! They beamed through their discomfort, teeth chattering. There was an icicle forming on their party horn.

    “I don think so, actually! I shud have looked at da wether before I got on da train!” They smiled, trying and failing to blow into the comically iced over party favor, “Actually mayb the city fixed tha heater in the bathroom, so I’ll go-” they were interrupted by pest putting his arm around their shoulder. Huh?

    “It isn’t. It doesn’t. The-” He stumbled over his words, surprised at his own act of kindness towards the noob, ”The bathroom heater. The door is frozen shut.” He checked earlier; Macabre City doesn’t do shit with infrastructure upkeep in the winter. As long as the machines of burden are running, nothing else  gets fixed around here.

    “Omg…. Pest…! ” Poob started to remark before being cut off again.

    “Don’t talk about it,” Pest said quickly, curtly, unclear about what “it” was, but definitely talking about the platonic masculine sidehug for warmth happening right now. 

    “No- ur.. Ur apple!” Poob exclaimed. 

    With dawning horror on his face the protagonist of this fanfiction realized physical affection was the final push of tension in his body to make his grip on the beloved fruit tighten just so . The fruits skin was pierced; Apple juice was dripping down his bare hand and freezing on his wrist. This was a sensory nightmare and if not dealt with soon , a waste of an apple. Left with no other options, he brought Eve’s Temptation to his jaws and laid waste to it quickly. Poob looked on, smiling, somewhat perturbed. That was on the ground a moment ago- and not the forgiving ground of nature, or a relatively maintained kitchen, but the greasy chemical concrete of underground public transport. Ghastly. 

    “Ur a lot stronger than u look,” Poob commented seemingly out of nowhere. Pest was sucking the remaining apple juice off of his wrist like a freak and stopped mid-lick. It was said with such admiration…

    “Than I look ?” Pest replied, deflecting the compliment and making a problem out of it. He shook his sleeve back down over his still-kind-of-sticky apple hand. 

    “Ya u look preddy normal!” Poob continued, smiley as ever and somewhat defrosted from spending time in a warm embrace, “but u dragged me out here like I was a fether! N i’m rlly not that lite since im five feet nine inches tall!”

    Pest chewed on this information thoughtfully. I guess I am pretty tough, he thought, ALMOST smiling, ...is that normal for someone to comment on? Well, I'll count my blessings; they aren’t talking about the apple.  H e shut his eyes, painfully, I… Shouldn’t have eaten the core. They definitely saw me eat the core. They know I had an apple in my pocket and ate the entire thing. Do people take Poob seriously? If they told someone " Hay did u kno pesty eats appls whole an he always has 1 in his pockit?!"  would they believe that? Should I worry about this

    “I jus thought that was kewl… :3” Poob continued in the absence of any audible reaction, “Do u want 2 hang out btw? Since wer goin on da same train home! I think my stop is before urs n I live rlly close to the station.” 

    It kind of doesn’t matter who starts the rumor because once the wrong person hears a funny enough nickname they’re GOING to use it. Forever. I’m going to be Apple Freak Pest to everyone on this elevator. I’m going to be Fruit Boy, hungry little Fruit Boy-  Pest continued to think and stare into the middle distance, hearing Poob but not comprehending them.

    “Umm… I hav some more apples at my haus?” The noob added, making Pest snap out of his trance like a sorcerer being pulled back from a dark vision in his orb.

    “I am NOT a hungry little fruit boy !” Pest hissed, releasing his tender hold on the noob.

    “Whuh?! I didn say dat! I-”

    Their train arrived.

    All previous tensions defrosted as the blasting warmth of the subway car's kind-of-stinky heater enveloped them. The two sat across from each other in the otherwise empty train; Poob periodically dipping their head down while failing to stay conscious, Pest occupied with the contents of Poobs wallet.

    As he’d assumed before, It was all funnymoney! Funnymoney and coupons for icecream! And a bus pass, but he already had too many of those. Interestingly, there was a photograph of the two of them in there, too. Pest didn’t remember this being taken, but he remembered that day well enough.. It was the first time he’d willingly gone to one of Poob’s parties. It was actually quite a lovely shot of himself, so he delightedly tucked it away in his own wallet to be vain about later. 

    He looked up from his criminal activity only to learn the noob had been awake and observing his pilfering. He stiffly handed the wallet back. No point in hiding all that now. 

    “Hehe ye dats a nice one,” Poob said blearily, putting the wallet back in their pocket with a sleepy smile on their face, “I was gunna give u a copy eventually, it jus nevr came up!”

    “Why are you tired? Weren’t you going to a party?” Pest interrogated them in lieu of talking more about how Poob seemingly had a photo of them, together, on their person at all times.

    “I wuz gunna FUEL UP,” they mimicked drinking a Cold One but accidentally looked like they were doing a lewd gesture, “At da party! BUT since i didn get ther wen i thought i wud, I’m all poobed out…”

    Pest nodded. Yes, fuel. Jet fuel. Battery acid. Liquid heart attack. Thinking about the energy drink gave the bug a phantom burn in the back of his throat. 

    “They use that shit to clean up crime scenes, you know.” He’d heard that on a yewchewb short once and never fact checked it. Sounded about right, though.

    Rather abruptly, there was a horrible, rattling screeching noise as something hit the train– something stopped the train, and shorted all the lights. The two were thrown from their seats onto the dirty metal floor, cast into darkness. Aside from Poobs scream, It was suspiciously quiet for a subway crash. The both of them knew there were other people in the cars further up, but no one seemed to be panicking, or really doing anything.

    “( I just want to go home .)” Pest hissed and chittered in Beetle, “I don’t have time for this. What, they hit a cow? Do we have cows down here, now?”

    The lights flickered back on just as his eyes were adjusting to the darkness. He groaned. Poob whimpered.

    “Why are you whimpering. Let go of my arm,” He tried to shake the noob off. His head hurt too much to deal with the ramifications, plus there was this overwhelming ozone smell sort of mixed with... burning.. Flesh… “Jesus christ,”

    “Pest. I kno wat that is.” Poob said really quietly, grave, “I don wanna die. I’m not gunna die here.” They stood up and started wrenching open the train doors with what unknown strength they had. It wasn’t much, but adrenaline could take even a party noob a long way. 

    “We’re in the middle of the tunnel,” Pest tried to object, glancing between Poob and the dark train car ahead of theirs, “What’s- What is causing this, exactly?” 

    Poob looked back with a hollow, tortured look in their eyes. The lights flickered off again, eliciting from the noob a noise like a slowly deflating balloon.

    “Pls halp me open this…” They sounded so small and desperate. Pest didn’t know how to react to this situation, at all, but he inevitably had to. He shook his head and exited this momentary stupor he was in.

    “Uh. Fuck. “ He replied, surprised at the own panic in his voice.  “ Yeah, sure. What?” 

    Metal groaned, the bug got the door open, the lights came back on- in their train car only, it seemed. The burning flesh smell was closer. 

    “Poob,” Pest said with a stern tone but shaken breath, “What is coming?”

    He did not receive an answer.

    The noob jumped out into the narrow section between the wall of the tunnel and the side of the subway car and made quick work crab-walking as far from the metal beast of transportation as they could. Pest took one last look at the empty train car, shivered, and followed suit. He would remember this event later on in the timeline.

    They shuffled in the dark and cold for a while. There was a cavernous silence where the periodic party horn should’ve been sounding. Up until now he’d kept a respectable distance of a few feet, but his eyes were built for low lighting and he could see clear as day how hard Poob was shaking as they felt along the tunnel wall. It was considerably colder than before, and it wasn’t like they’d bought a sweatshirt in between scenes. Sigh. Time to be cliche. Thankfully the direness of the situation offset the cliche a little bit.

    A warm fabric was draped over Poobs shoulders and they squeaked at the sudden contact, nearly choking on the party horn they still gripped in their teeth. The fear became a joyful gasp when they realized- Pesty is being niceys! Omg!!!

    “You’re going to die from…” Pest paused and tried to remember the word Hypothermia in any language at all, “Yeah. Put this on.”

    “H! Thanx!! T-thgis is real-really great-t! Yway!” Poob cheered on the brink of terminally succumbing to the temperature of the tunnel, “woa.. do u ev-ever wash th-dis thing-g? It rly smells..”

    Pest squinted.

    “Stop sniffing it then. You’re sniffing it.”

    Poob innocently looked over their shoulder in the general direction of Pest’s voice.

    “No-o..? It’s jus- Smelly.”

    “You are audibly sniffing the fabric.” Pest pointed, “I see you pulling the hood to your mouth.”

    “Becuz it smells! Don u sniff smelly things? Like 2 get a rlly good understanding of what ur dealing wit?”

    “No. ( are you a dog? )”

    “Rlly?” Poob was genuinely learning they were different in this regard.

    “I don’t sniff . I don’t have a nose.”

    “WAT?!” Poobs voice reverberated down the tunnel, “No wonder ur so smelly! U don even kno wen u stink…! Dats so sad..”

    “I do not STINK?! And- Party Noob. I am a Beetle. I smell with… Beetle parts.” He pointed incredulously to the barely visible feelers that more or less hid behind his horn-mandibles, then remembered Poob did not have night vision, and felt a little silly, “I do not smell bad…”

    “I didn SAY you smelld bad, just that ur smelly. Dats two different things.. Well, kinda like a square an rectangle thing?”

    “What do- What do I smell like, Poob?” He asked, exasperated with this conversation, “Go on, tell me.”

    Poob thoughtfully chewed on the borrowed sleeves for a moment.

    “U smell like… Pest! :3  hehe. pls don taek the jackit away.”  

    “( Fucking Hell and shit on my life ,)” He hissed and chittered, regained his composure and added, in english, “I wont do that. Keep walking.”

    In the throes of this bitter, endless trek through a tunnel, Pest really wished he could eat that apple again. He was under so much stress. An apple would soothe him. It would fix him, right now. Any sweet food would really, it’s not like he was some kind of apple freak. Some kind of- of little fruit, freak. Fruit boy. FUCK!!

    Thankfully they both survived the nightmare shimmy back to the Regretevator stop without succumbing to hypothermia OR frost bite. The cursed elevator even had the audacity to appear the second they rounded the corner. To their collective surprise, it was carrying the same exact group of Randos as before.

    “Wao its b-ben like two-o hours-s!” Poob remarked,  “They must b havin rlly bad luck!” 

    The group on the elevator gasped. “The Pest AND The Poob? Is that allowed?!” The yucky skeleton cat shouted, “Can you really get The Both?! Two on one The Stop?!”

    Pest didn’t understand the commotion but Poob seemed to adore any commotion that wasn’t violent and began chatting with the group. The Green Cat Who Was Not Gnarpy offered pest a bite from their icecream cone and he physically recoiled, which got the group's attention back on him.

    “No… icecream? No icecream… No icecream..?” The three muttered and whispered among themselves over and over. 

    “Wer just rlly cold sry! Do u have hot coco insted? :’3” Poob started to explain to the group.

    Meanwhile Pest was sinking to the ground in front of the heater and hugging his knees to his chest. After tonight, he’d resolved to “obtain” a thicker winter coat, better gloves, maybe a knit hat and scarf- Nothing too kitschy, he did have a sense of style to maintain. The subway was likely going to be out of commission for… Bah, it’ll probably be running again tomorrow, actually. But it was good to be prepared to walk through a dim tunnel for two hours should the circumstances present themselves direly again.

    He briefly thought about “obtaining” a nice winter coat for Poob, too, but immediately got really pissed at himself for even considering that. The bozo probably HAS a coat and just didn’t wear it because they don’t plan for extreme situations. He looked up in the middle of this thought and realized Poob hadn’t returned his jacket yet.

Black actually looks very nice on them, a good place to rest the eyes between all the color, He observed, then scowled, We’re warm in here. They literally do not need to continue wearing that. He stood to go yank the thing off of them but was interrupted a mere two steps in by a weak, unknown force dragging him backwards by the seat of his pants. It didn’t move him much since his body was dense and his combat boots slid on the ground with the friction of a boulder on concrete, but it was enough to baffle him out of his current course of action.

 The gentleman in the tophat was holding a magnet behind him. It was pulling on the immense wealth in his back pockets. They caught each other’s eyes and exchanged no words. The gentleman put the magnet away. The moment passed. 

Infected’s floor arrived.