Sins of the Father: Part 1
Title: Sins of the Father
Author: ocelot_l
Written for the TGWTG Big Bang
Summary: Fighting villains. Protecting the world. Gambling with fate. This has been Linkara’s life for as long as he can remember, and in all that time, he’s never questioned why he’s been dealt the role of hero. Now, it’s time for Linkara to learn the truth.
The truth about why he’s always felt the need to save those around him, even if it meant risking his life. The truth about the dreams that have started to haunt his mind and confuse his senses. The truth about the little girl whose soul possesses his Magic Gun, and the connection they share.
Based on this prompt from the kink meme
Rating: R for Language, Violence, and Disturbing Themes
Warnings: Language, Disturbing Themes, Blood, Violence, Violence Toward a Child, Child Death, Suicide Attempt
Pairing: Linkara/Spoony
A young girl clad in a lacy black dress dashed about her backyard and giggled madly as she tried her best to avoid those who were chasing her.
“Where are you going?” A young woman with a thin, lined face and hair tied up in a bun called out rather unhappily as she tried to capture the wayward child. “If you don’t be careful, you’re going to tear your new dress.”
“Mama, mama!” the girl called out as she darted just out of her mother’s reach. “Catch! Mama, catch!”
“I do not have time for these games,” the woman muttered, the creases in her face deepening the longer she continued the chase.
“Come now, dear,” a deep-voiced young man said as he caught the woman’s arm. “She’s merely playing, as all children do. She’s happy now, and I always want my girl to be happy. Don’t you agree?” He stared at her for a moment, and the woman’s expression grew dark. She turned her gaze back to the girl and watched her trip over a rock before stumbling onto the ground. Then her face softened and she hurried over to kneel beside her now sobbing child.
“Did you hurt yourself?” she asked as she pulled back the dress to discover angry red marks upon the girl’s knees. “Come to Mama and I’ll make it better.”
“Mama.” The girl lifted her arms and let the woman pick her up before resting her head against her chest and closing her eyes. The woman carried the girl back into their house, while the man remained in the yard. His eyes traveled up to the skies where storm clouds were starting to gather in the distance.
“As long as she is of this world, she will always be happy. This I promise you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Linkara stood impatiently in the line of restless people waiting for the next available bank teller to call them forward. He hated going to the bank more than any other errand. It was boring, it took a great deal of time to complete, and, since the interest rates were non-existent, it wasn’t like he was going to be having a pleasant conversation with anyone here today in the first place. He wished he could have sent his clown cum accountant in his place, but Boffo had made prior plans to entertain at a neighbor’s birthday party.
To make matters worse, Linkara found himself growing more and more tired as the minutes ticked by. He wasn’t sure why, since he hadn’t changed his sleeping schedule for the past few months, and was still getting his regular eight hours of rest each night. This steady sense of exhaustion he was experiencing had occurred for the past week already, and Linkara was starting to get annoyed with feeling so weary when there was no reason for it to be happening. He wished he could blame his affliction on something simple, like nightmares, but his dreams as of late had been calm, as well as so unmemorable that he couldn’t recall a single one upon awaking
There was also the added annoyance of having to watch 90s Kid, who had decided to accompany Linkara on his errands today and "totally help you out, dude", as he so eloquently put it.
Apparently to 90s Kid, the best way to help Linkara was by running the cart down the aisles of the grocery store as if he were racing someone, and then whining to Linkara until he agreed to buy whatever unhealthy item the teen then dropped into said cart. Even at the bank he found ways to be annoying, first by playing with the pens that were attached to the counters with chains, and then by planting himself directly in front of the bowl of lollipops so that he could personally inspect every one before either placing it back in the bowl or stuffing it into his pocket.
“Lemon, as if,” he muttered as he tossed a handful of yellow suckers back into the bowl. “That is the least radical flavor ever.”
“Hey, leave some of those for the other customers!” Linkara quietly called, trying not to disturb the other patrons.
“Huh?” 90s Kid looked up at him, and then realized that a boy and girl of about six and eight respectively were standing behind him with hopeful expressions. “Oh, uh, sorry dude, dudette. Here you go.” He handed over the bowl and hurried over to stand beside Linkara again. “This place is the opposite of awesome, dude. Can’t we, like, leave yet?”
“I’m sorry you’re bored,” Linkara said, not really sounding sorry at all, “but I need to speak with someone and it’s going to take a while.” 90s Kid seemed like he was going to pout, so Linkara pulled out some change and handed it to him. “Look, why don’t you go to the arcade down the street and I’ll meet up with you when I’m done.”
“Oh, awesome! Thanks dude!”
“No problem,” Linkara replied, trying to stifle a yawn as he did so. He could feel his eyelids growing heavier by the second, and that sense of irritation he’d been experiencing so often as of late flared up again.
Just as 90s Kid reached the bank’s exit, he paused upon noticing a group of four men in dark coats huddled outside by the glass door.
“Here you go, dudes,” 90s Kid said with a smile as he held the door open for them. The men stared at him coldly before one nodded and indicated that they should head in after him. 90s Kid continued to smile as he performed his good deed for the day, but that smile faltered when he noticed ski masks in the pockets of the coats they wore, as well as a flash of silver belonging to an item he was very good at recognizing.
“A gun!” he shouted, completely forgetting what training Linkara had given him in case a dangerous situation like this ever arose. Linkara, however, could often act on instinct, which he did when he heard the cry of alarm from his roommate.
“Okay, everybody get back!” He pulled out his most prized weapon, the Magic Gun, and pointed it at the men, who seemed startled that their plans were falling apart so quickly. “Put your hands in the air and don’t try anything funny!” Linkara commanded of the four.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The one who seemed to be the leader took a step toward Linkara, while another reached for his waist, trying to draw his gun before Linkara could react. He did not count on how sharply Linkara had honed his skills thanks to battling a multitude of comic book and video game related monsters over the years, and his expression twisted into shock and confusion when Linkara blasted a ball of yellow energy into his chest. Then he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
“Oh shit!” The remaining three looked at each other before turning to run. Linkara blasted each of them in the back as well and watched them all collapse before rushing over to make certain they were completely incapacitated.
90s Kid stared down at him in awe. “Whoa dude. You totally blasted them all! Radical!”
“I had no choice,” Linkara muttered, removing his hand from one man’s neck after locating a shaky pulse.
“I believe we’ll be the ones to judge that.” Linkara looked up to find a pair of security guards who did not seem the slightest bit pleased. Outside he could hear the sound of sirens quickly approaching while behind him the terrified bank patrons huddled together, most of them regarding Linkara with a mixture of apprehension and alarm.
Linkara sighed, pocketed his Magic Gun, and stood, ready to follow any instructions given to him. So much for gratitude.
~~~~~~~~~~
That evening, Linkara sat slumped against his futon, trying to ignore the clamor that was occurring all around him. It had been a long day, filled with hours of police questioning and paperwork, and the earlier weariness Linkara felt was now threatening to knock him out if he didn’t make it to bed soon. While there was nothing the comic lover wanted more, he knew he couldn’t excuse himself yet.
“It was the most awesome thing I ever saw in my life, dudes!” 90s Kid said while relating the day’s events to Ninja Style Dancer, Boffo, and Pollo. “Linkara, like, totally wasted those dudes!”
*Wouldn’t that imply that he killed them?* was held up on a sign by Ninja Style Dancer. Boffo honked his horn in agreement.
“Yes, that is the correct interpretation of that phrase,” Pollo chimed in, causing 90s Kid to roll his eyes.
“Whatever. Do you want to tell the story, dude?”
“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Linksano said, popping his head in from the kitchen. “So what if Linkara brought a dangerous weapon into the bank? He only wielded it against those who deserved it.”
Linkara had a feeling the scientist was trying to cheer him up, but this was not what he needed to hear right now, so he turned his gaze to the other side of the room.
There, Harvey was speaking on the phone in hushed tones while periodically glancing over at Linkara and frowning. Feeling a dull throb in his temples, Linkara looked away once more and decided to focus his attention on the one person who wasn’t making a fuss over that afternoon. Unfortunately, even Bear seemed to be silently judging him with those cold, glass eyes of his. Linkara could already feel the throb in his head worsening.
Why was this happening to him? Hadn’t he saved everyone at the bank just fine? No one had gotten hurt, not even the freaking robbers, and yet he was being treated like a criminal for acting in the name of justice. The faces of the two children he’d seen in the bank floated through Linkara’s mind and his expression hardened as he gave a short nod. Yes, even if he had acted without thinking, he’d made the correct decision, and if he ever found himself in a similar situation, he would respond the same.
“Well, I think that’s taken care of,” Harvey said after hanging up at last. The others stopped their conversation to look at the older man, who was in turn looking at Linkara. “I have a friend who owes me a favor, and he’s going to make sure none of this bank malarkey comes back to bite us in the keister down the road. So don’t worry about it anymore, kid”
While most of the team looked relieved by this knowledge, Linkara growled softly before standing up and glaring at Harvey.
“I wasn’t worried about it in the first place,” he declared, crossing his arms. “I saved several people from armed robbers today. I wasn’t the one who did anything wrong.” Harvey met Linkara’s gaze, frowning a little.
“Look, kid, I know you like playing hero more than most-”
“Playing hero?” Linkara interrupted, looking incredulous. “Is that what you call my saving the world all the damn time?”
“Okay, that was a poor choice of words,” Harvey muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if it had started to hurt. “What I meant was, I know you like to show off your heroic side when you see folks in danger, but you can’t always go around doing that whenever you feel like it. If those mooks had come over and threatened your friends and family, or invaded your turf, then yeah, I see no problem with taking them down on your own. However, when you’re out in the world, dealing with strangers and such, you gotta let the coppers have their chance to shine before you step in and sweep ‘em off their feet.”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you speak in support of the police,” Linkara noted dryly. Harvey’s frown grew.
“I may not always be on the right side of the law, but we’re talking about you now, kid. You’re one of the good ones, and we can’t have you getting arrested because you felt like showing off.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Linkara asked as he threw his arms up into the air. “Just stand by and let those thieves shoot everyone? Just sit on my thumbs and wait for the first spray of blood to wash over me?”
“Dude, harsh.” 90s Kid winced from his graphic outburst, but Linkara didn’t care. The little boy and girl from the bank flashed through his mind then and he felt his hands start to shake as his anger grew.
“Was I supposed to abandon those innocent children and let them be cruelly gunned down in front of their parents? Was that what I was supposed to do, Harvey?” His whole body was shaking now, and Linkara couldn’t figure out why, or why he was feeling that prickling sensation in his eyes which meant he was close to tears.
“Kid, are you okay? You gotta calm down.” The look of concern Harvey gave him was like a bucket of water that extinguished whatever anger Linkara felt, and left him feeling ashamed of his outburst. He also felt all the energy in his body drain away, like someone had yanked out a plug and released it into the ether, and suddenly Linkara struggled even to keep his head upright.
“Sorry… I’m sorry,” he muttered, bringing one hand up to rub his temple, where a once dull ache had transformed into a pulsating roar. “I’m just so tired.”
“You should get some sleep, Linkara,” Pollo replied as he hovered over to him. “We have already made your bed for you.” Linkara offered him a weak grin.
“Thanks, Pollo. Do you think I could get some aspirin as well?”
*I will get it* Ninja Style Dancer held up on a card before vanishing in a puff of smoke. He reappeared a few seconds later and handed a few pills to Linkara. Before he could ask, Boffo pulled out a bottle of seltzer from thin air and filled a glass for Linkara.
“Thanks, everyone. I think I’m just going to turn in for now. Sorry about causing all this trouble.” Linkara’s smile turned apologetic but the others brushed his words off with nods and smiles of acceptance before heading off to their own rooms. Linkara then turned to Harvey, who had taken out his lighter, and was flipping the lid open and shut with his thumb. “Harvey, I’m also sorry for snapping at you.”
“Forget it, kid,” Harvey said. He pulled a cigarette out and lit it before turning his gaze back to Linkara. “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. You’re always going to be a hero, no matter what happens. You were born to be one. It’s in your blood.” He grinned and blew out a soft ring of smoke, not noticing that Linkara had grown pale.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Harvey. Good night.” Linkara hurried toward his room as quickly as he could and tried to figure out why a chill had gone down his spine at Harvey’s words. He’d always thought of himself as a heroic person who wished to do good and protect others at all costs, so why had the older man’s assessment feel so… wrong?
Maybe it was because nobody could be born destined to become one. Heroism wasn’t some unique genetic trait you received from a relative; it was created from a number of qualities you had to choose to display, like bravery and ingenuity. Why had Linkara always opted to act heroically when he could just as easily have stood around and waited for someone else to help? He knew he had chosen to save people and face down sources of evil in the past, but why did he choose to do so? What compelled him to put himself in harm’s way, even for people he didn’t even know?
“I don’t know,” Linkara admitted aloud as he changed into his pajamas and put away his things. He hung up his hat and jacket in the closet while he tried to figure out what drove him to be a hero, and then noticed that the Magic Gun was still resting on the nightstand beside him. Linksano had called it a dangerous weapon, but that was not how Linkara viewed things.
It-she was not a dangerous weapon at all. She was a partner that Linkara always wanted by his side, no matter what horrible situation befell him and his team. Even if it meant taking her into places where weapons didn’t belong, Linkara simply couldn’t leave without her. Whenever he’d tried it just felt wrong, for lack of a better explanation.
Linkara picked up the gun and studied it for a moment. It had been quite some time since his last conversation with her-the soul of the girl who inhabited his weapon. Linkara felt a pang of guilt as he recalled their last meeting several months ago. She had looked up at him with those dark, ink-black eyes and smiled as she asked him to play with her again soon. Linkara had promised he would, but hadn’t found the time to visit her since.
“Hey,” he called out softly as he caressed the cold metal. “It’s me. I came to see you again.”
There was a blinding flash of light that caused Linkara to shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he found himself standing in a familiar field of flowers.
Whenever he touched the gun and called to her, the girl could link their souls together and allow Linkara to travel to the realm where she existed. Linkara wasn’t sure how she had come to turn the inside of the gun into such a peaceful place, where the sun always shone down from a cloudless blue sky, or the breeze carried the sweet scent of springtime across his face, but he was happy that her soul could rest in such a serene setting.
Linkara turned around and found the girl smiling brightly at him.
“I’m back,” Linkara said, hoping his own grin didn’t seem too guilty. “I wanted to thank you for today. You really helped me out at the bank.”
“Partner,” the girl replied before reaching out to take his hand. Linkara chuckled softly and allowed himself to be dragged across the grass.
“That’s right, partner. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you to help me stop all the bad guys in the world.”
Her smiled widened and she pulled faster. Linkara never knew where she would take him when he came to visit, but his instincts to remain on constant alert for danger only ever relaxed when he was here, with her. Eventually she pulled him to the bank of a small creek with water so clear that the flat, white stones on the bottom were readily apparent. The girl giggled again as she sat on the edge of the grass and dipped her feet into the cool water. Linkara sat down beside her. Somehow, seeing her happy made all worries vanish from his mind.
~~~~~~~~~~
The man watched as his daughter lay on her stomach on the back porch, a crayon clenched in one hand as she concentrated on her drawing. He stood observing her for several moments before he walked to her side and bent down.
“What’s my girl up to now?” She beamed up at him as she dropped the crayon and moved her paper so that he could better see the image upon it. Bright red markings comprising lines, circles, and strange symbols that made little sense to most who observed them, but were perfectly understood by the man, decorated the page.
“I made this for Mama,” the girl remarked as she pulled the paper back into its original position and picked up her crayon once more. The man’s expression hardened as he watched his daughter color.
“Where did you see that?” The girl froze, suddenly aware of the cold tone his voice carried, and peered back up at the man with frightened eyes.
“I-I saw it in a book, Papa.” He continued to gaze at her coldly. “The book in your study,” she relented, dropping her gaze in shame.
“You know you’re not supposed to go in there,” he said, his voice calm but suppressing several emotions. “You know you’re not supposed to touch those books.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Papa,” the girl said quickly, her fingers curling tightly around the crayon as she spoke. “I didn’t mean to, but my ball rolled in when you left the door open yesterday. I just went in to get it and I was gonna leave right away, but then I saw this drawing in one of your books. It was so pretty that I wanted to draw it for Mama.” She looked down again after explaining and started to sniffle. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
“Did you look at anything else in that book?” the man demanded.
The girl she shook her head back and forth. “No, no, I didn’t.”
“Did you touch anything else in my study?”
“No. I promise I won’t go in there again, Papa, honest.” She rubbed her eyes and sniffled again before she felt a soft cloth dabbing at her cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” the man said, his hard expression giving way to something much softer. “I only want my girl to be happy.” She gazed up at him and blinked back her tears as a wide smile crossed her face.
“I love you, Papa.” She swiftly threw her arms around the man’s neck and rested her head against his shoulder. He gave her head a few pats while his eyes traveled back down to the symbol she had drawn.
~~~~~~~~~~
Linkara was growing sick and tired of being tired. By now, a month and a half had gone by, but no matter what measures he took to ensure he was properly rested, Linkara continued to battle exhaustion throughout each passing day. He’d even made the effort to go to bed earlier than usual for the past week, hoping this might solve the problem for good, yet continued to find himself growing so tired by the middle of the afternoon that he could barely make it to nightfall without dozing off at least twice.
His roommates were also growing concerned by Linkara’s sudden bouts of fatigue and had set about trying to determine what was causing them.
“Perhaps it is a biological malfunction,” Pollo suggested. After undergoing a full set of scans and physicals provided by the robot, this possibility was ruled out.
“Maybe you ate something bogus and it’s, like, making it hard for you to sleep good,” 90s Kid offered. Linkara lightened his diet for a few days to see if this would help, but eventually ended up falling face-first into his salad. Hence, food and drinks were ruled out.
*You might be under too much stress* Ninja Style Dancer suggested. To test this theory, Linkara reluctantly took a week off from making reviews, fighting crime, or doing much of anything other than puttering around the house and helping with the most menial of tasks, like vacuuming and dishes. Thankfully, it had been one of those rare weeks where no force of evil was attempting to attack the planet or screw with his sensibilities, but even this mini-vacation from reality did nothing to stop Linkara from wanting to nod off at the drop of a hat.
Linkara’s own sleep habits were the same as they’d always been, aside from his recent decision to go to bed earlier. Pollo had done a few experiments when he was sleeping and determined that while his breathing and heart rate did elevate when he was asleep, Linkara did not seem overly agitated or in any sort of major distress while his body rested.
“Maybe he’s been suffering from bad dreams,” Linksano said one night with a small giggle. It quickly stopped after one of Linkara’s harsher glares.
“I don’t have bad dreams,” he replied. “Actually, I don’t dream very much at all.” This had been true all his life. Linkara had never been able to remember more than the briefest glimpses of his dreams at the best of times, and lately he’d been plagued with peaceful scenes of a child playing or laughing happily which, while peculiar, were still not likely to be causing him distress.
There was, however, a familiar quality to the dreams, as if he’d dreamt them before when he was very young, but had forgotten them until their current reappearances. Linkara couldn’t see how this would be important, however, and declined to mention it to anyone.
“I think what the kid needs is a vacation,” Harvey said after rescuing Linkara from toppling off the futon for the fourth night in a row. “I think a change of pace and scenery could really do the trick. Maybe even go and visit some of those friends of yours who also like to yell about unimportant things.” Linkara rolled his eyes a little, but couldn’t help thinking that this idea held merit. Maybe a vacation would help him relax enough to solve whatever this mysterious affliction was.
As fortunate had it, Nostalgia Critic was having another gathering of Channel Awesome producers at his home the very next week for some plot he hadn’t bothered to thoroughly explain. While Linkara was normally wary of such endeavors, especially since Critic hadn’t felt the need to offer any details as to why they needed to meet as soon as possible, he couldn’t help looking forward to seeing his friends again. As much as they complained and bickered, the producers truly did care about each other and enjoyed hanging out (except of course when trying to take over a micro-nation or search for a magical gauntlet).
Linkara arrived at Critic’s house without difficulty and greeted his friends with a hearty smile. Most of them nodded and smiled back before returning to their conversations. Linkara was soon able to grab an empty chair in the living room. He sat there, staring out the window into Critic’s backyard, and started wondering if perhaps the area wouldn’t look better with a swing set. A sudden rush of drowsiness overtook Linkara then, and he was just about to nod off when Spoony clapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey man, good to see you dragged your ass out from under that stack of comic books long enough to hear Critic’s latest stupid idea.” Linkara chuckled before leaning in to peck the other man on the lips. He was also planning to use this vacation to get some much needed alone time with his boyfriend.
“Hey, if you could pull yourself away from playing ‘Final Fantasy’ for this, then who was I to miss it?” he shot back, smirking.
“Oh, fuck you for reminding me of that abomination of a series,” Spoony groaned, closing his eyes as if just mentioning the games caused him pain. “Why couldn’t my fans want me to review good games once in a while?”
“Because fans are cruel, sadistic people by nature, and will take any opportunity given to screw with us,” Linkara answered, still smiling.
Critic suddenly made his presence known by screaming this and waving his arms over his head. “Okay, everyone get their ass over here right now!”
“Speaking of cruel, sadistic people,” Spoony snarked, which made Linkara chuckle again. As much as they all complained about their leader, and with valid complaints mind you, the producers could never refuse answering one of his summons, and it seemed that even more of them had turned up this time. Linkara soon found himself wedged between the Game Heroes as he attempted to work his way to the front of the crowd.
“Sorry,” he told the two before finally breaking through so that he was standing only a few feet from the main attraction. This just happened to be Critic himself, standing with a very satisfied smile, as he held up an old, brown tome that looked like it had seen better days a hundred years ago.
“As you all know,” Critic began, using one of his more bombastic tones, “after the tragic death of our beloved Planeteer, Ma-Ti, I have been searching most diligently for the Necronomicon!”
“You haven’t searched for anything, you liar!” The producers turned at the angry outburst to Chester, who was curled up in the fetal position on the floor near the front door and shaking slightly.
“Shut up or I’ll send you back to that haunted abattoir!” Critic screamed before clearing his throat and continuing his speech. “As I was saying, I searched for the Necromicon because there was a chance that I could use it to find a spell which would bring Ma-Ti back to life. Now, after many, many, many months of searching, I can proudly proclaim that this is the book we’ve been looking for, and the answer to our prayers!”
Critic then held up the book above his head, like he was re-creating a scene from ‘The Lion King’, and started to make oohing and ahhing sounds. The producers watched for a moment in silence.
“Is this what’s been going on since I’ve been gone?” Suede asked in a rather loud whisper to the woman on his right.
“I don’t know,” Dena whispered back. “This is the first time I’ve been to one of these and I’m not sure how they’re supposed to go.”
“Okay then,” Critic said, lowering the book so he could open it and start leafing through the pages, “now that you’re all impressed with my brilliant accomplishment, we can start looking for the spell which will raise the dead!”
“Wait, why do you need all of us here if you’re just going to be reading a book?” Nash asked.
“Obviously I’m going to need people here to test the spells out on,” Critic answered, as if this were the most ridiculous question in the world. The crowd stood silent and unblinking a moment, before a mad scramble for the front door broke out. Critic watched them leave in shock, which quickly turned to anger. “You traitors! Get back here!”
“Don’t worry, Critic, I’m still here,” Linkara said as he moved closer, hoping to get a better look at the book he held. “Why don’t you let me go through those spells and see if there’s anything we can use to help Ma-Ti?”
Linkara wasn’t counting on this, since he wasn’t even entirely sure that this Necronomicon wasn’t just another fake like the 50 other Necronomicons Critic had found since starting his quest. However, if luck was on their side for once and it did turn out to be the real deal, he would feel better if a book of dark magic was under his control for the time being.
“No way,” Critic said, already spoiling Linkara’s plans as he clutched the tome protectively to his chest. “No one but me touches this.”
“Come on, Critic,” Linkara pleaded, his gaze shifting from Critic to the book every few seconds. “I understand magic a whole lot better than you do-you didn’t even believe in it until I convinced you it was real!”
“Well I believe in it now, and that’s all that’s important.” Critic stuck out his chin like a stubborn child and wrapped his arms around the book even tighter.
“Fine,” Linkara snapped, his patience for Critic’s antics already wearing thin, “then go ahead and test out those spells on me, so I can see for myself just what kind of magic book you have.”
“Linkara, are you crazy?” Spoony and a few others who’d been shoved to the back of the crowd during the mass evacuation from Critic’s house stared at him in horror. “Don’t give him permission to do any fucking spells on you!”
“What if that thing turns out to be the real Necromicon?” Marzgurl added. “Critic could end up summoning Cthullu and sending you to Hell in its place!”
“I seriously doubt that he’ll be summoning any Eldritch Abominations,” Linkara replied, a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he imagined Critic struggling to even read the spells capable of conjuring monsters.
“Yeah, he’s more likely to summon another annoying ghost like that fucking Casper who used to haunt his old reviews,” Cinema Snob muttered to Phelous, who chuckled.
“Fuck you all.” Critic scowled as he turned his attention to the yellowed pages before him. “I’ll show you who can do magic.” He stared at one incantation and mouthed the words silently before saying them aloud. “Char gar gothakon!”
Linkara and the others waited for something to happen for a minute before turning back to Critic.
“Fuck. Let me try another one.” He flipped through the pages again. “Nekro dib mantic!” Again, nothing happened. “Naku akon juul!” Linkara shook his head and couldn’t help fully smiling as Critic read out even more ridiculous words that couldn’t possibly be real magic spells. He felt relieved that he didn’t have to worry about some dangerous grimoire of death on what was supposed to be his vacation.
“Well, this has been another colossal waste of time,” Snob proclaimed ten uneventful minutes later.
“Eh, I’d rather do this than watch the next movie I’m planning to review,” Phelous admitted.
Critic, finally fed up with failure, hurled the book across the room and stormed off. “Screw this piece of shit! I don’t care who takes it, but I want that fucking thing out of my house now!”
Even though he felt sure that the book was harmless, Linkara still retrieved it and examined several of its pages. One could never be too careful, after all. While the incantations written inside the tome continued to look like gibberish, a folded scrap of paper fell to the floor during the course of Linkara’s scrutinization. He bent down to retrieve it and peered at the strange picture drawn upon it in red. It consisted of lines, circles, and symbols used to create an image that Linkara had never seen before; yet the longer he stared at the image, the more familiar it became.
Linkara was soon entranced by the symbol. Where had he seen this before and why did it make him feel so strange? Like he was both helpless and bursting with power at the same time?
“Uh, Linkara? Are you okay?” Phelous looked from Linkara’s expression of concentration to the paper he clutched. “What’s that?” Linkara didn’t react. “Hello? Can you hear me?” Phelous reached out to wave a hand in front of Linkara’s face, which startled Linkara enough into shouting out a few words in a language he’d never heard before, let alone spoken.
A stream of flames jumped out from the symbol Linkara held and engulfed Phelous’s arm inside them.
“Oh shit!” Phelous cried as he tried to jump away from the fire, but this proved fruitless, since the flames were determined to follow him no matter where he moved. Linkara could only stare slack-jawed at his friend’s plight, his grip on the book loosening enough that it crashed to the ground, while his grip on the paper tightened enough to crumple it. As a small voice in his head shouted that he should be attempting to help Phelous, a wave of curiosity had washed over Linkara, and he almost wanted to see just how much fire the other man’s body could endure.
Just then, another image seemed to flicker in Linkara’s mind, of another circle of flames which leapt from the ground to ensnare a helpless person within their midst. The image was hazy, so it was impossible to make out who the victim of the conflagration was, but the person seemed to be lying on the ground inside a dark building, and completely unwilling to even lift a hand of protection against the oncoming inferno.
“Holy shit! What the fuck happened?” Linkara was snapped out of his thoughts when Spoony, Marzgurl, and Cinema Snob rushed over to try to help Phelous put out the flames still burning his arm. Linkara felt horrified by his lack of action, and even moreso by those grim thoughts that had briefly captured his attention, and hurried over to the sink to fill up a glass of water.
“I’ve got it,” he called as he chucked the water at the flames. This, combined with the assistance of the others, finally extinguished the fire for good.
Snob and Marzgurl both stared in disgust at the red burn marks decorating the skin from Phelous’s fingers up to his shoulder. “Shit, Phelous. Are you okay?” Linkara was aghast at how painful the burns looked, even though Phelous seemed to be shrugging the whole ordeal off.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“We should get you to a doctor or something,” Marzgurl suggested, unable to tear her eyes away from his injuries.
“No, don’t bother.” Phelous experimentally pushed down on his forearm with his index finger and winced. “I’ll start healing soon enough and if I’m around doctors it’ll only lead to unnecessary questions and shit I don’t want to deal with. I’d rather just go to the hotel and wait it out.” He looked up at them then. “Can anyone give me a ride to the hotel? I don’t think I should take a cab or a bus when I look like this.”
“I drove here, so I can take you in my car,” Snob offered. He was still staring at Phelous like he was afraid his whole body would burst into flames at any moment. “How the fuck did that even happen?” Phelous glanced over at Linkara, who was staring down at the wrinkled scrap of paper he held.
It was blank. Completely blank. Linkara couldn’t understand it. He’d been certain that just moments ago a strangely familiar symbol had been drawn on it, but now…
Linkara noticed his hand had started to shake rather badly. Then realized his whole body was actually shaking.
“I’m so… so sorry…” Linkara felt his face heat up in shame and was unable to meet the gazes of the others. “Phelous, I swear… I don’t know how…. I didn’t know this would…” He felt his voice catch in his throat and wished that the floor would just swallow him whole. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, Linkara, it’s okay,” Spoony said softly, moving closer to him. “We know it must have been an accident.”
“Yeah, I know it was,” Phelous seconded. “This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me, so don’t feel too bad about it.”
“What happened to you that was worse than this?” Snob asked. Phelous turned to glare at him.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe a little movie called ‘A Serbian Film’? Does that ring any bells?”
“Oh, right. I forgot about that piece of shit.” Snob had the decency to look ashamed while Phelous just rolled his eyes. “Okay, come on, let’s get the hell out of here before Critic comes down and starts bitching about something else. Does anyone else need a ride?”
“I’ll take you up on that,” Marzgurl said. Spoony, who kept his gaze on Linkara, quickly shook his head.
“We’re just going to catch the bus in a little bit. We’ll meet up with you later, though.” Snob nodded and started toward the front door with Phelous and Marzgurl.
“All right. See you guys.” Spoony waited until they were gone before turning back to Linkara.
“Hey. Are you okay? Do you want to talk or anything?” Linkara hated the concern and the tinge fear in Spoony’s voice. He was supposed to be a hero, damn it! A brave, wise, warrior for good, who was always in control and kept a cool head! Not a trembling mass of uncertainty and unsettling thoughts that should never flow through the mind of someone who fought evil!
He wasn’t supposed to know horrifying magic that could cripple a person in seconds!
He wasn’t supposed to feel intrigued when he saw someone suffering!
He wasn’t supposed to imagine innocent people dying in horrible ways...
“Linkara? Can you hear me?” Spoony’s tone was heavy with worry as he reached out to touch Linkara’s arm. Linkara finally looked over at him and felt more exhausted than he’d ever felt in his life.
“I just want to go to bed,” he said in a small voice, much like that of a child’s. Spoony nodded and walked with Linkara outside, allowing him the chance to lean against him when necessary as they headed to the hotel. He didn’t ask any questions or even talk much at all aside from asking if it was all right if he stayed in with him and played his DS while Linkara slept, which, of course, it was.
Once again, Linkara was grateful to have Spoony in his life.
PART 2
Author: ocelot_l
Written for the TGWTG Big Bang
Summary: Fighting villains. Protecting the world. Gambling with fate. This has been Linkara’s life for as long as he can remember, and in all that time, he’s never questioned why he’s been dealt the role of hero. Now, it’s time for Linkara to learn the truth.
The truth about why he’s always felt the need to save those around him, even if it meant risking his life. The truth about the dreams that have started to haunt his mind and confuse his senses. The truth about the little girl whose soul possesses his Magic Gun, and the connection they share.
Based on this prompt from the kink meme
Rating: R for Language, Violence, and Disturbing Themes
Warnings: Language, Disturbing Themes, Blood, Violence, Violence Toward a Child, Child Death, Suicide Attempt
Pairing: Linkara/Spoony
A young girl clad in a lacy black dress dashed about her backyard and giggled madly as she tried her best to avoid those who were chasing her.
“Where are you going?” A young woman with a thin, lined face and hair tied up in a bun called out rather unhappily as she tried to capture the wayward child. “If you don’t be careful, you’re going to tear your new dress.”
“Mama, mama!” the girl called out as she darted just out of her mother’s reach. “Catch! Mama, catch!”
“I do not have time for these games,” the woman muttered, the creases in her face deepening the longer she continued the chase.
“Come now, dear,” a deep-voiced young man said as he caught the woman’s arm. “She’s merely playing, as all children do. She’s happy now, and I always want my girl to be happy. Don’t you agree?” He stared at her for a moment, and the woman’s expression grew dark. She turned her gaze back to the girl and watched her trip over a rock before stumbling onto the ground. Then her face softened and she hurried over to kneel beside her now sobbing child.
“Did you hurt yourself?” she asked as she pulled back the dress to discover angry red marks upon the girl’s knees. “Come to Mama and I’ll make it better.”
“Mama.” The girl lifted her arms and let the woman pick her up before resting her head against her chest and closing her eyes. The woman carried the girl back into their house, while the man remained in the yard. His eyes traveled up to the skies where storm clouds were starting to gather in the distance.
“As long as she is of this world, she will always be happy. This I promise you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Linkara stood impatiently in the line of restless people waiting for the next available bank teller to call them forward. He hated going to the bank more than any other errand. It was boring, it took a great deal of time to complete, and, since the interest rates were non-existent, it wasn’t like he was going to be having a pleasant conversation with anyone here today in the first place. He wished he could have sent his clown cum accountant in his place, but Boffo had made prior plans to entertain at a neighbor’s birthday party.
To make matters worse, Linkara found himself growing more and more tired as the minutes ticked by. He wasn’t sure why, since he hadn’t changed his sleeping schedule for the past few months, and was still getting his regular eight hours of rest each night. This steady sense of exhaustion he was experiencing had occurred for the past week already, and Linkara was starting to get annoyed with feeling so weary when there was no reason for it to be happening. He wished he could blame his affliction on something simple, like nightmares, but his dreams as of late had been calm, as well as so unmemorable that he couldn’t recall a single one upon awaking
There was also the added annoyance of having to watch 90s Kid, who had decided to accompany Linkara on his errands today and "totally help you out, dude", as he so eloquently put it.
Apparently to 90s Kid, the best way to help Linkara was by running the cart down the aisles of the grocery store as if he were racing someone, and then whining to Linkara until he agreed to buy whatever unhealthy item the teen then dropped into said cart. Even at the bank he found ways to be annoying, first by playing with the pens that were attached to the counters with chains, and then by planting himself directly in front of the bowl of lollipops so that he could personally inspect every one before either placing it back in the bowl or stuffing it into his pocket.
“Lemon, as if,” he muttered as he tossed a handful of yellow suckers back into the bowl. “That is the least radical flavor ever.”
“Hey, leave some of those for the other customers!” Linkara quietly called, trying not to disturb the other patrons.
“Huh?” 90s Kid looked up at him, and then realized that a boy and girl of about six and eight respectively were standing behind him with hopeful expressions. “Oh, uh, sorry dude, dudette. Here you go.” He handed over the bowl and hurried over to stand beside Linkara again. “This place is the opposite of awesome, dude. Can’t we, like, leave yet?”
“I’m sorry you’re bored,” Linkara said, not really sounding sorry at all, “but I need to speak with someone and it’s going to take a while.” 90s Kid seemed like he was going to pout, so Linkara pulled out some change and handed it to him. “Look, why don’t you go to the arcade down the street and I’ll meet up with you when I’m done.”
“Oh, awesome! Thanks dude!”
“No problem,” Linkara replied, trying to stifle a yawn as he did so. He could feel his eyelids growing heavier by the second, and that sense of irritation he’d been experiencing so often as of late flared up again.
Just as 90s Kid reached the bank’s exit, he paused upon noticing a group of four men in dark coats huddled outside by the glass door.
“Here you go, dudes,” 90s Kid said with a smile as he held the door open for them. The men stared at him coldly before one nodded and indicated that they should head in after him. 90s Kid continued to smile as he performed his good deed for the day, but that smile faltered when he noticed ski masks in the pockets of the coats they wore, as well as a flash of silver belonging to an item he was very good at recognizing.
“A gun!” he shouted, completely forgetting what training Linkara had given him in case a dangerous situation like this ever arose. Linkara, however, could often act on instinct, which he did when he heard the cry of alarm from his roommate.
“Okay, everybody get back!” He pulled out his most prized weapon, the Magic Gun, and pointed it at the men, who seemed startled that their plans were falling apart so quickly. “Put your hands in the air and don’t try anything funny!” Linkara commanded of the four.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The one who seemed to be the leader took a step toward Linkara, while another reached for his waist, trying to draw his gun before Linkara could react. He did not count on how sharply Linkara had honed his skills thanks to battling a multitude of comic book and video game related monsters over the years, and his expression twisted into shock and confusion when Linkara blasted a ball of yellow energy into his chest. Then he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
“Oh shit!” The remaining three looked at each other before turning to run. Linkara blasted each of them in the back as well and watched them all collapse before rushing over to make certain they were completely incapacitated.
90s Kid stared down at him in awe. “Whoa dude. You totally blasted them all! Radical!”
“I had no choice,” Linkara muttered, removing his hand from one man’s neck after locating a shaky pulse.
“I believe we’ll be the ones to judge that.” Linkara looked up to find a pair of security guards who did not seem the slightest bit pleased. Outside he could hear the sound of sirens quickly approaching while behind him the terrified bank patrons huddled together, most of them regarding Linkara with a mixture of apprehension and alarm.
Linkara sighed, pocketed his Magic Gun, and stood, ready to follow any instructions given to him. So much for gratitude.
~~~~~~~~~~
That evening, Linkara sat slumped against his futon, trying to ignore the clamor that was occurring all around him. It had been a long day, filled with hours of police questioning and paperwork, and the earlier weariness Linkara felt was now threatening to knock him out if he didn’t make it to bed soon. While there was nothing the comic lover wanted more, he knew he couldn’t excuse himself yet.
“It was the most awesome thing I ever saw in my life, dudes!” 90s Kid said while relating the day’s events to Ninja Style Dancer, Boffo, and Pollo. “Linkara, like, totally wasted those dudes!”
*Wouldn’t that imply that he killed them?* was held up on a sign by Ninja Style Dancer. Boffo honked his horn in agreement.
“Yes, that is the correct interpretation of that phrase,” Pollo chimed in, causing 90s Kid to roll his eyes.
“Whatever. Do you want to tell the story, dude?”
“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Linksano said, popping his head in from the kitchen. “So what if Linkara brought a dangerous weapon into the bank? He only wielded it against those who deserved it.”
Linkara had a feeling the scientist was trying to cheer him up, but this was not what he needed to hear right now, so he turned his gaze to the other side of the room.
There, Harvey was speaking on the phone in hushed tones while periodically glancing over at Linkara and frowning. Feeling a dull throb in his temples, Linkara looked away once more and decided to focus his attention on the one person who wasn’t making a fuss over that afternoon. Unfortunately, even Bear seemed to be silently judging him with those cold, glass eyes of his. Linkara could already feel the throb in his head worsening.
Why was this happening to him? Hadn’t he saved everyone at the bank just fine? No one had gotten hurt, not even the freaking robbers, and yet he was being treated like a criminal for acting in the name of justice. The faces of the two children he’d seen in the bank floated through Linkara’s mind and his expression hardened as he gave a short nod. Yes, even if he had acted without thinking, he’d made the correct decision, and if he ever found himself in a similar situation, he would respond the same.
“Well, I think that’s taken care of,” Harvey said after hanging up at last. The others stopped their conversation to look at the older man, who was in turn looking at Linkara. “I have a friend who owes me a favor, and he’s going to make sure none of this bank malarkey comes back to bite us in the keister down the road. So don’t worry about it anymore, kid”
While most of the team looked relieved by this knowledge, Linkara growled softly before standing up and glaring at Harvey.
“I wasn’t worried about it in the first place,” he declared, crossing his arms. “I saved several people from armed robbers today. I wasn’t the one who did anything wrong.” Harvey met Linkara’s gaze, frowning a little.
“Look, kid, I know you like playing hero more than most-”
“Playing hero?” Linkara interrupted, looking incredulous. “Is that what you call my saving the world all the damn time?”
“Okay, that was a poor choice of words,” Harvey muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if it had started to hurt. “What I meant was, I know you like to show off your heroic side when you see folks in danger, but you can’t always go around doing that whenever you feel like it. If those mooks had come over and threatened your friends and family, or invaded your turf, then yeah, I see no problem with taking them down on your own. However, when you’re out in the world, dealing with strangers and such, you gotta let the coppers have their chance to shine before you step in and sweep ‘em off their feet.”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you speak in support of the police,” Linkara noted dryly. Harvey’s frown grew.
“I may not always be on the right side of the law, but we’re talking about you now, kid. You’re one of the good ones, and we can’t have you getting arrested because you felt like showing off.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Linkara asked as he threw his arms up into the air. “Just stand by and let those thieves shoot everyone? Just sit on my thumbs and wait for the first spray of blood to wash over me?”
“Dude, harsh.” 90s Kid winced from his graphic outburst, but Linkara didn’t care. The little boy and girl from the bank flashed through his mind then and he felt his hands start to shake as his anger grew.
“Was I supposed to abandon those innocent children and let them be cruelly gunned down in front of their parents? Was that what I was supposed to do, Harvey?” His whole body was shaking now, and Linkara couldn’t figure out why, or why he was feeling that prickling sensation in his eyes which meant he was close to tears.
“Kid, are you okay? You gotta calm down.” The look of concern Harvey gave him was like a bucket of water that extinguished whatever anger Linkara felt, and left him feeling ashamed of his outburst. He also felt all the energy in his body drain away, like someone had yanked out a plug and released it into the ether, and suddenly Linkara struggled even to keep his head upright.
“Sorry… I’m sorry,” he muttered, bringing one hand up to rub his temple, where a once dull ache had transformed into a pulsating roar. “I’m just so tired.”
“You should get some sleep, Linkara,” Pollo replied as he hovered over to him. “We have already made your bed for you.” Linkara offered him a weak grin.
“Thanks, Pollo. Do you think I could get some aspirin as well?”
*I will get it* Ninja Style Dancer held up on a card before vanishing in a puff of smoke. He reappeared a few seconds later and handed a few pills to Linkara. Before he could ask, Boffo pulled out a bottle of seltzer from thin air and filled a glass for Linkara.
“Thanks, everyone. I think I’m just going to turn in for now. Sorry about causing all this trouble.” Linkara’s smile turned apologetic but the others brushed his words off with nods and smiles of acceptance before heading off to their own rooms. Linkara then turned to Harvey, who had taken out his lighter, and was flipping the lid open and shut with his thumb. “Harvey, I’m also sorry for snapping at you.”
“Forget it, kid,” Harvey said. He pulled a cigarette out and lit it before turning his gaze back to Linkara. “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. You’re always going to be a hero, no matter what happens. You were born to be one. It’s in your blood.” He grinned and blew out a soft ring of smoke, not noticing that Linkara had grown pale.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Harvey. Good night.” Linkara hurried toward his room as quickly as he could and tried to figure out why a chill had gone down his spine at Harvey’s words. He’d always thought of himself as a heroic person who wished to do good and protect others at all costs, so why had the older man’s assessment feel so… wrong?
Maybe it was because nobody could be born destined to become one. Heroism wasn’t some unique genetic trait you received from a relative; it was created from a number of qualities you had to choose to display, like bravery and ingenuity. Why had Linkara always opted to act heroically when he could just as easily have stood around and waited for someone else to help? He knew he had chosen to save people and face down sources of evil in the past, but why did he choose to do so? What compelled him to put himself in harm’s way, even for people he didn’t even know?
“I don’t know,” Linkara admitted aloud as he changed into his pajamas and put away his things. He hung up his hat and jacket in the closet while he tried to figure out what drove him to be a hero, and then noticed that the Magic Gun was still resting on the nightstand beside him. Linksano had called it a dangerous weapon, but that was not how Linkara viewed things.
It-she was not a dangerous weapon at all. She was a partner that Linkara always wanted by his side, no matter what horrible situation befell him and his team. Even if it meant taking her into places where weapons didn’t belong, Linkara simply couldn’t leave without her. Whenever he’d tried it just felt wrong, for lack of a better explanation.
Linkara picked up the gun and studied it for a moment. It had been quite some time since his last conversation with her-the soul of the girl who inhabited his weapon. Linkara felt a pang of guilt as he recalled their last meeting several months ago. She had looked up at him with those dark, ink-black eyes and smiled as she asked him to play with her again soon. Linkara had promised he would, but hadn’t found the time to visit her since.
“Hey,” he called out softly as he caressed the cold metal. “It’s me. I came to see you again.”
There was a blinding flash of light that caused Linkara to shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he found himself standing in a familiar field of flowers.
Whenever he touched the gun and called to her, the girl could link their souls together and allow Linkara to travel to the realm where she existed. Linkara wasn’t sure how she had come to turn the inside of the gun into such a peaceful place, where the sun always shone down from a cloudless blue sky, or the breeze carried the sweet scent of springtime across his face, but he was happy that her soul could rest in such a serene setting.
Linkara turned around and found the girl smiling brightly at him.
“I’m back,” Linkara said, hoping his own grin didn’t seem too guilty. “I wanted to thank you for today. You really helped me out at the bank.”
“Partner,” the girl replied before reaching out to take his hand. Linkara chuckled softly and allowed himself to be dragged across the grass.
“That’s right, partner. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you to help me stop all the bad guys in the world.”
Her smiled widened and she pulled faster. Linkara never knew where she would take him when he came to visit, but his instincts to remain on constant alert for danger only ever relaxed when he was here, with her. Eventually she pulled him to the bank of a small creek with water so clear that the flat, white stones on the bottom were readily apparent. The girl giggled again as she sat on the edge of the grass and dipped her feet into the cool water. Linkara sat down beside her. Somehow, seeing her happy made all worries vanish from his mind.
~~~~~~~~~~
The man watched as his daughter lay on her stomach on the back porch, a crayon clenched in one hand as she concentrated on her drawing. He stood observing her for several moments before he walked to her side and bent down.
“What’s my girl up to now?” She beamed up at him as she dropped the crayon and moved her paper so that he could better see the image upon it. Bright red markings comprising lines, circles, and strange symbols that made little sense to most who observed them, but were perfectly understood by the man, decorated the page.
“I made this for Mama,” the girl remarked as she pulled the paper back into its original position and picked up her crayon once more. The man’s expression hardened as he watched his daughter color.
“Where did you see that?” The girl froze, suddenly aware of the cold tone his voice carried, and peered back up at the man with frightened eyes.
“I-I saw it in a book, Papa.” He continued to gaze at her coldly. “The book in your study,” she relented, dropping her gaze in shame.
“You know you’re not supposed to go in there,” he said, his voice calm but suppressing several emotions. “You know you’re not supposed to touch those books.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Papa,” the girl said quickly, her fingers curling tightly around the crayon as she spoke. “I didn’t mean to, but my ball rolled in when you left the door open yesterday. I just went in to get it and I was gonna leave right away, but then I saw this drawing in one of your books. It was so pretty that I wanted to draw it for Mama.” She looked down again after explaining and started to sniffle. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
“Did you look at anything else in that book?” the man demanded.
The girl she shook her head back and forth. “No, no, I didn’t.”
“Did you touch anything else in my study?”
“No. I promise I won’t go in there again, Papa, honest.” She rubbed her eyes and sniffled again before she felt a soft cloth dabbing at her cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” the man said, his hard expression giving way to something much softer. “I only want my girl to be happy.” She gazed up at him and blinked back her tears as a wide smile crossed her face.
“I love you, Papa.” She swiftly threw her arms around the man’s neck and rested her head against his shoulder. He gave her head a few pats while his eyes traveled back down to the symbol she had drawn.
~~~~~~~~~~
Linkara was growing sick and tired of being tired. By now, a month and a half had gone by, but no matter what measures he took to ensure he was properly rested, Linkara continued to battle exhaustion throughout each passing day. He’d even made the effort to go to bed earlier than usual for the past week, hoping this might solve the problem for good, yet continued to find himself growing so tired by the middle of the afternoon that he could barely make it to nightfall without dozing off at least twice.
His roommates were also growing concerned by Linkara’s sudden bouts of fatigue and had set about trying to determine what was causing them.
“Perhaps it is a biological malfunction,” Pollo suggested. After undergoing a full set of scans and physicals provided by the robot, this possibility was ruled out.
“Maybe you ate something bogus and it’s, like, making it hard for you to sleep good,” 90s Kid offered. Linkara lightened his diet for a few days to see if this would help, but eventually ended up falling face-first into his salad. Hence, food and drinks were ruled out.
*You might be under too much stress* Ninja Style Dancer suggested. To test this theory, Linkara reluctantly took a week off from making reviews, fighting crime, or doing much of anything other than puttering around the house and helping with the most menial of tasks, like vacuuming and dishes. Thankfully, it had been one of those rare weeks where no force of evil was attempting to attack the planet or screw with his sensibilities, but even this mini-vacation from reality did nothing to stop Linkara from wanting to nod off at the drop of a hat.
Linkara’s own sleep habits were the same as they’d always been, aside from his recent decision to go to bed earlier. Pollo had done a few experiments when he was sleeping and determined that while his breathing and heart rate did elevate when he was asleep, Linkara did not seem overly agitated or in any sort of major distress while his body rested.
“Maybe he’s been suffering from bad dreams,” Linksano said one night with a small giggle. It quickly stopped after one of Linkara’s harsher glares.
“I don’t have bad dreams,” he replied. “Actually, I don’t dream very much at all.” This had been true all his life. Linkara had never been able to remember more than the briefest glimpses of his dreams at the best of times, and lately he’d been plagued with peaceful scenes of a child playing or laughing happily which, while peculiar, were still not likely to be causing him distress.
There was, however, a familiar quality to the dreams, as if he’d dreamt them before when he was very young, but had forgotten them until their current reappearances. Linkara couldn’t see how this would be important, however, and declined to mention it to anyone.
“I think what the kid needs is a vacation,” Harvey said after rescuing Linkara from toppling off the futon for the fourth night in a row. “I think a change of pace and scenery could really do the trick. Maybe even go and visit some of those friends of yours who also like to yell about unimportant things.” Linkara rolled his eyes a little, but couldn’t help thinking that this idea held merit. Maybe a vacation would help him relax enough to solve whatever this mysterious affliction was.
As fortunate had it, Nostalgia Critic was having another gathering of Channel Awesome producers at his home the very next week for some plot he hadn’t bothered to thoroughly explain. While Linkara was normally wary of such endeavors, especially since Critic hadn’t felt the need to offer any details as to why they needed to meet as soon as possible, he couldn’t help looking forward to seeing his friends again. As much as they complained and bickered, the producers truly did care about each other and enjoyed hanging out (except of course when trying to take over a micro-nation or search for a magical gauntlet).
Linkara arrived at Critic’s house without difficulty and greeted his friends with a hearty smile. Most of them nodded and smiled back before returning to their conversations. Linkara was soon able to grab an empty chair in the living room. He sat there, staring out the window into Critic’s backyard, and started wondering if perhaps the area wouldn’t look better with a swing set. A sudden rush of drowsiness overtook Linkara then, and he was just about to nod off when Spoony clapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey man, good to see you dragged your ass out from under that stack of comic books long enough to hear Critic’s latest stupid idea.” Linkara chuckled before leaning in to peck the other man on the lips. He was also planning to use this vacation to get some much needed alone time with his boyfriend.
“Hey, if you could pull yourself away from playing ‘Final Fantasy’ for this, then who was I to miss it?” he shot back, smirking.
“Oh, fuck you for reminding me of that abomination of a series,” Spoony groaned, closing his eyes as if just mentioning the games caused him pain. “Why couldn’t my fans want me to review good games once in a while?”
“Because fans are cruel, sadistic people by nature, and will take any opportunity given to screw with us,” Linkara answered, still smiling.
Critic suddenly made his presence known by screaming this and waving his arms over his head. “Okay, everyone get their ass over here right now!”
“Speaking of cruel, sadistic people,” Spoony snarked, which made Linkara chuckle again. As much as they all complained about their leader, and with valid complaints mind you, the producers could never refuse answering one of his summons, and it seemed that even more of them had turned up this time. Linkara soon found himself wedged between the Game Heroes as he attempted to work his way to the front of the crowd.
“Sorry,” he told the two before finally breaking through so that he was standing only a few feet from the main attraction. This just happened to be Critic himself, standing with a very satisfied smile, as he held up an old, brown tome that looked like it had seen better days a hundred years ago.
“As you all know,” Critic began, using one of his more bombastic tones, “after the tragic death of our beloved Planeteer, Ma-Ti, I have been searching most diligently for the Necronomicon!”
“You haven’t searched for anything, you liar!” The producers turned at the angry outburst to Chester, who was curled up in the fetal position on the floor near the front door and shaking slightly.
“Shut up or I’ll send you back to that haunted abattoir!” Critic screamed before clearing his throat and continuing his speech. “As I was saying, I searched for the Necromicon because there was a chance that I could use it to find a spell which would bring Ma-Ti back to life. Now, after many, many, many months of searching, I can proudly proclaim that this is the book we’ve been looking for, and the answer to our prayers!”
Critic then held up the book above his head, like he was re-creating a scene from ‘The Lion King’, and started to make oohing and ahhing sounds. The producers watched for a moment in silence.
“Is this what’s been going on since I’ve been gone?” Suede asked in a rather loud whisper to the woman on his right.
“I don’t know,” Dena whispered back. “This is the first time I’ve been to one of these and I’m not sure how they’re supposed to go.”
“Okay then,” Critic said, lowering the book so he could open it and start leafing through the pages, “now that you’re all impressed with my brilliant accomplishment, we can start looking for the spell which will raise the dead!”
“Wait, why do you need all of us here if you’re just going to be reading a book?” Nash asked.
“Obviously I’m going to need people here to test the spells out on,” Critic answered, as if this were the most ridiculous question in the world. The crowd stood silent and unblinking a moment, before a mad scramble for the front door broke out. Critic watched them leave in shock, which quickly turned to anger. “You traitors! Get back here!”
“Don’t worry, Critic, I’m still here,” Linkara said as he moved closer, hoping to get a better look at the book he held. “Why don’t you let me go through those spells and see if there’s anything we can use to help Ma-Ti?”
Linkara wasn’t counting on this, since he wasn’t even entirely sure that this Necronomicon wasn’t just another fake like the 50 other Necronomicons Critic had found since starting his quest. However, if luck was on their side for once and it did turn out to be the real deal, he would feel better if a book of dark magic was under his control for the time being.
“No way,” Critic said, already spoiling Linkara’s plans as he clutched the tome protectively to his chest. “No one but me touches this.”
“Come on, Critic,” Linkara pleaded, his gaze shifting from Critic to the book every few seconds. “I understand magic a whole lot better than you do-you didn’t even believe in it until I convinced you it was real!”
“Well I believe in it now, and that’s all that’s important.” Critic stuck out his chin like a stubborn child and wrapped his arms around the book even tighter.
“Fine,” Linkara snapped, his patience for Critic’s antics already wearing thin, “then go ahead and test out those spells on me, so I can see for myself just what kind of magic book you have.”
“Linkara, are you crazy?” Spoony and a few others who’d been shoved to the back of the crowd during the mass evacuation from Critic’s house stared at him in horror. “Don’t give him permission to do any fucking spells on you!”
“What if that thing turns out to be the real Necromicon?” Marzgurl added. “Critic could end up summoning Cthullu and sending you to Hell in its place!”
“I seriously doubt that he’ll be summoning any Eldritch Abominations,” Linkara replied, a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he imagined Critic struggling to even read the spells capable of conjuring monsters.
“Yeah, he’s more likely to summon another annoying ghost like that fucking Casper who used to haunt his old reviews,” Cinema Snob muttered to Phelous, who chuckled.
“Fuck you all.” Critic scowled as he turned his attention to the yellowed pages before him. “I’ll show you who can do magic.” He stared at one incantation and mouthed the words silently before saying them aloud. “Char gar gothakon!”
Linkara and the others waited for something to happen for a minute before turning back to Critic.
“Fuck. Let me try another one.” He flipped through the pages again. “Nekro dib mantic!” Again, nothing happened. “Naku akon juul!” Linkara shook his head and couldn’t help fully smiling as Critic read out even more ridiculous words that couldn’t possibly be real magic spells. He felt relieved that he didn’t have to worry about some dangerous grimoire of death on what was supposed to be his vacation.
“Well, this has been another colossal waste of time,” Snob proclaimed ten uneventful minutes later.
“Eh, I’d rather do this than watch the next movie I’m planning to review,” Phelous admitted.
Critic, finally fed up with failure, hurled the book across the room and stormed off. “Screw this piece of shit! I don’t care who takes it, but I want that fucking thing out of my house now!”
Even though he felt sure that the book was harmless, Linkara still retrieved it and examined several of its pages. One could never be too careful, after all. While the incantations written inside the tome continued to look like gibberish, a folded scrap of paper fell to the floor during the course of Linkara’s scrutinization. He bent down to retrieve it and peered at the strange picture drawn upon it in red. It consisted of lines, circles, and symbols used to create an image that Linkara had never seen before; yet the longer he stared at the image, the more familiar it became.
Linkara was soon entranced by the symbol. Where had he seen this before and why did it make him feel so strange? Like he was both helpless and bursting with power at the same time?
“Uh, Linkara? Are you okay?” Phelous looked from Linkara’s expression of concentration to the paper he clutched. “What’s that?” Linkara didn’t react. “Hello? Can you hear me?” Phelous reached out to wave a hand in front of Linkara’s face, which startled Linkara enough into shouting out a few words in a language he’d never heard before, let alone spoken.
A stream of flames jumped out from the symbol Linkara held and engulfed Phelous’s arm inside them.
“Oh shit!” Phelous cried as he tried to jump away from the fire, but this proved fruitless, since the flames were determined to follow him no matter where he moved. Linkara could only stare slack-jawed at his friend’s plight, his grip on the book loosening enough that it crashed to the ground, while his grip on the paper tightened enough to crumple it. As a small voice in his head shouted that he should be attempting to help Phelous, a wave of curiosity had washed over Linkara, and he almost wanted to see just how much fire the other man’s body could endure.
Just then, another image seemed to flicker in Linkara’s mind, of another circle of flames which leapt from the ground to ensnare a helpless person within their midst. The image was hazy, so it was impossible to make out who the victim of the conflagration was, but the person seemed to be lying on the ground inside a dark building, and completely unwilling to even lift a hand of protection against the oncoming inferno.
“Holy shit! What the fuck happened?” Linkara was snapped out of his thoughts when Spoony, Marzgurl, and Cinema Snob rushed over to try to help Phelous put out the flames still burning his arm. Linkara felt horrified by his lack of action, and even moreso by those grim thoughts that had briefly captured his attention, and hurried over to the sink to fill up a glass of water.
“I’ve got it,” he called as he chucked the water at the flames. This, combined with the assistance of the others, finally extinguished the fire for good.
Snob and Marzgurl both stared in disgust at the red burn marks decorating the skin from Phelous’s fingers up to his shoulder. “Shit, Phelous. Are you okay?” Linkara was aghast at how painful the burns looked, even though Phelous seemed to be shrugging the whole ordeal off.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“We should get you to a doctor or something,” Marzgurl suggested, unable to tear her eyes away from his injuries.
“No, don’t bother.” Phelous experimentally pushed down on his forearm with his index finger and winced. “I’ll start healing soon enough and if I’m around doctors it’ll only lead to unnecessary questions and shit I don’t want to deal with. I’d rather just go to the hotel and wait it out.” He looked up at them then. “Can anyone give me a ride to the hotel? I don’t think I should take a cab or a bus when I look like this.”
“I drove here, so I can take you in my car,” Snob offered. He was still staring at Phelous like he was afraid his whole body would burst into flames at any moment. “How the fuck did that even happen?” Phelous glanced over at Linkara, who was staring down at the wrinkled scrap of paper he held.
It was blank. Completely blank. Linkara couldn’t understand it. He’d been certain that just moments ago a strangely familiar symbol had been drawn on it, but now…
Linkara noticed his hand had started to shake rather badly. Then realized his whole body was actually shaking.
“I’m so… so sorry…” Linkara felt his face heat up in shame and was unable to meet the gazes of the others. “Phelous, I swear… I don’t know how…. I didn’t know this would…” He felt his voice catch in his throat and wished that the floor would just swallow him whole. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, Linkara, it’s okay,” Spoony said softly, moving closer to him. “We know it must have been an accident.”
“Yeah, I know it was,” Phelous seconded. “This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me, so don’t feel too bad about it.”
“What happened to you that was worse than this?” Snob asked. Phelous turned to glare at him.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe a little movie called ‘A Serbian Film’? Does that ring any bells?”
“Oh, right. I forgot about that piece of shit.” Snob had the decency to look ashamed while Phelous just rolled his eyes. “Okay, come on, let’s get the hell out of here before Critic comes down and starts bitching about something else. Does anyone else need a ride?”
“I’ll take you up on that,” Marzgurl said. Spoony, who kept his gaze on Linkara, quickly shook his head.
“We’re just going to catch the bus in a little bit. We’ll meet up with you later, though.” Snob nodded and started toward the front door with Phelous and Marzgurl.
“All right. See you guys.” Spoony waited until they were gone before turning back to Linkara.
“Hey. Are you okay? Do you want to talk or anything?” Linkara hated the concern and the tinge fear in Spoony’s voice. He was supposed to be a hero, damn it! A brave, wise, warrior for good, who was always in control and kept a cool head! Not a trembling mass of uncertainty and unsettling thoughts that should never flow through the mind of someone who fought evil!
He wasn’t supposed to know horrifying magic that could cripple a person in seconds!
He wasn’t supposed to feel intrigued when he saw someone suffering!
He wasn’t supposed to imagine innocent people dying in horrible ways...
“Linkara? Can you hear me?” Spoony’s tone was heavy with worry as he reached out to touch Linkara’s arm. Linkara finally looked over at him and felt more exhausted than he’d ever felt in his life.
“I just want to go to bed,” he said in a small voice, much like that of a child’s. Spoony nodded and walked with Linkara outside, allowing him the chance to lean against him when necessary as they headed to the hotel. He didn’t ask any questions or even talk much at all aside from asking if it was all right if he stayed in with him and played his DS while Linkara slept, which, of course, it was.
Once again, Linkara was grateful to have Spoony in his life.
PART 2