I went to double check on the Chef. After some proper research, I figured out she was definitely being possessed by something. Turns out she lives around Maple Valley, so it was pretty easy to link up. Tracked down an exorcist and went to visit them. Guy turned out to be a creep, but a magical creep. I didn't even give him our real names but he still knew we were both named Penelope (Small world). Turned out the Chef is being slowly taken over by a spider god, one that the exterminator apparently had a deal with, hence why he couldn't deal with it for her. Gave us a grocery list for the ritual needed to clean her up. I was satisfied, and let her know if she needed any help she could call me. Once that was done with, (for now, at least) I talked with Dr. Belmont. Didn't tell her about my magical adventures in detail, but I asked for her help to get a hook prosthetic quick as she could. Called in some favors and now I got a fancy new hook. Hell of a month.

CW for Gore

It's summer right now. It's hot, and it hasn't rained in over a month. I hate it. When times are tough, and I miss you more than anything, I could always count on the comforting embrace of a cold rain. But now it's just hot.

I feel empty. I've felt empty for months, but I feel especially empty now.

When you left, I had to grab onto something to keep going. The hollowness was terrifying, I would've done anything to fill that void. I used to have so much love and care in me, but it's like you took it all with you on your way out. In all your kindness though, you left behind a burning coal of anger.

It hurts to hold, but I can't bring myself to let go. I hold onto it for dear life with a white knuckle grip. My nails dig into my palms around it.

Blood leaks out around my clenched fist, and a dizzying heat climbs up my arm. It mixes with my sweat and makes this horrible concotion that seems to burn and melt everything it touches. What was once my hand is now a mangled hunk of flesh that used to be able to help people. My apartment is in shambles, the pictures on the walls have faded, the floorboards are bending, their stability long gone. The only things flourishing in these fetid walls are the plants. They drink up the disgusting ichor and grow into the shapes of human skulls, cracking open to reveal nightmarish, sickeningly pink flowers that defy description.

Still, with my world rotting around me, I hold onto that spiteful star. If I let it go, there won't be anything left to keep me standing, and there won't be anything left of you.

It's summer right now. It's hot, and I hate it.

Back at home, in the dead of night, Carver does her source regen. She sets a 10 minute candle in a little holder and lights it with a match. She has a lighter, but she likes how matches feel. She curls up on her couch and watches the flame.

"Hey, Julia. I talked to Julio, today. I always thought it was funny how similar your names are. Anyways, I was meeting with him because I need to get around the No Fly list - long story - and I was just hoping he might be able to help. When I met with him at his garage, I realized the last time I went there was to make an emergency delivery of coffee for you. I still your remember your order.

Quad-shot plain black coffee. Because you're a fucking maniac." She chuckles, the love obvious in her voice.

"Anyway, uh I show up. We met at your funeral and I felt kinda bad that I had dissapeared for a few months only to come back asking for a favor. But, I do it. He recognized the 'taking random trips for work' excuse. I couldn't bear to lie to him and say I was being safe. That he won't have to worry about my funeral either." An uncomfortable pause.

"He was still willing to help, if only to stop me from asking someone worse. I just needed to do some doctor stuff for him. I thought maybe I'd be running some diagnosis work, or maybe properly applying sensitive medications. But, uh, he had someone who was going to bleed out in 20 minutes, tops. And she was pregnant. Immedietly I got to work, gave her morphine for the pain, and pulled a few bullets out of her. She had a collapsed lung that I fixed up easily enough, the real problem was the shot that went straight through the uterus. Luckily, the fetus was fine, for now. Not to pat myself on the back, but I worked some miracles." There's a smile on her face that quickly falls.

"Well, that would've been everything, if they hadn't given her heroin before I got there and decided to lie to me about it. Had to use every dose of Naxolone I had, and then Julio's to top it off, but she made it through, so did the fetus. Odds of complications skyrocketed, but they're still alive. Um, anyway, talking to Julio was nice. And apparently you talked about me enough that he thought you would invite me to his funeral." She gets a smug smile and in a teasing voice adds,

"What, were you constantly talking about the cute girl next door who you couldn't stop thinking about?" The smile falls and her voice grows more wistful.

"Because I was. Just ask Dr. Belmont, she kept saying I should confess, but I never had the guts." A pause.

"God, we were such idiots, weren't we?" The candle is running low, its light slowly fading.

"Ah, I'm out of time. Um, as always, it's nice talking to you. I love you hermosa, I hope you're okay, where ever you are." Carver snuffs out the candle with her fingers, and heads to bed.

You sit at your desk, staring at your collection of make up, hands balled into fists in your lap.

Your girlfriend is coming over today, you're going to watch The Secret World of Arrietty together. You're excited to show her the movie, apparently her and her younger sibling were barred from watching TV as kids, so she really doesn't have much exposure to... all sorts of things, really. That's not the part that has you so tense, though.

You want to tell her about Julia tonight. How you still love her, and think about her every day even if she's dead. You're really scared that she'll think that you're a weird, lonely, depressing loser for holding onto someone's memory like that. Ems would never be that mean to you, but your anxiety really doesn't care much about reality. The reality is much worse. You could make her uncomfortable, uncomfortable enough that she doesn't want to be your girlfriend anymore.

But that's something you'll face when she gets here. Right now, you're looking into your reflection and trying to figure out if tonight is the night she sees you without make up, or gloves. If you want to be open about someone important to you dying, you should probably be willing to also show the parts of you that are weird. Like your red right hand and spattering of freckles. People have told you they're cute. (The freckles, at least. You still haven't actually shown anyone your hand.) But your childhood of backhanded compliments begs to differ.

It's scary, being vulnerable. But if you can't even manage showing off something as minor as freckles, how are you ever going to open up about the person who has most shaped your life.

You resolve to not put on any makeup. The gloves will stay, for now. Maybe you'll take them off for a dramatic reveal, or something.

* * *

You're nervously pacing around your apartment waiting for the knock on the door. You buzzed her in about a minute ago. You've worn something casual but cute, to lean into the fact you're going without makeup. A low cut, plain white pleated dress that goes a little past your knees, your favorite flannel (the one with the right sleeve cut to show your tattoo), some black opera gloves, and your favorite gemstone necklace.

Knock Knock. Through the door, Ems says,

"Pens! I get the right place?"

Your heart jumps into your throat, for half a second you consider not answering the door. But that's nonsense, you've stared down death at least a dozen times, you can answer the door when your amazing, cool, and beautiful girlfriend is on the other side. A deep breath, and you open the door.

She's leaning against the door frame, arm resting above her head. As always, she looks amazing. Tonight she has graced you with the sight of her wearing a nice white button up, a puffy winter jacket, and casual black slacks. She smiles brightly at you and immediately cups your face, leaning down to kiss you by way of a greeting. You're still not used to this level of physical affection, but you certainly aren't opposed to it. You've been together for about a month now, and been on plenty of dates. Still, every time your lips touch your head empties out and all you can think about is how soft and warm she is. That's probably why it takes you a bit to realize that she's switched to holding your chin and angling your face up to meet her eyes. Her head is titled slightly, short black hair framing her face perfectly.

"You're not wearing makeup." She says, curiously. That's enough to snap you out of your "post-kiss-daze" or whatever you've taken to calling it. You turn your eyes to the corner, not quite able to meet her gaze.

"Uh- y-yeah! I, um. I thought since we've been together for a bit I should try to be a bit less... guarded. Um." You nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"D-do... Do you like what you see?" You manage to say in a tiny voice, scared that if you ask loud enough you'll shatter the meager courage you've managed to build up. Slowly, Ems leans in close again. Close enough you can feel her breath on your face and her nose brushing against yours. Immediately your eyes snap forward to meet her gentle gaze, her warm brown eyes half lidded. She keeps you there for a moment, your face heating up under her attention. You absently note how your breathing has synced up. You're about to stutter something out when she whispers to you.

"Yup. Even more gorgeous than I imagined. I can't believe you were hiding those adorable freckles for so long..." All you manage to respond is some sort of high pitched... beep, as she finally breaks the tension and turns her face slightly to kiss you.

Warm, Soft, and Safe.

* * *

About an hour later, the two of you are cuddling on your couch. You're balled up and have nuzzled your head into the crook of Ems' neck, and her arm is lazily draped over your shoulders. The two of you are watching the movie in a comfortable silence. At least, you hope it's comfortable for her. You've spent the entire movie wondering when it was a good time to broach the topic of Julia. You've been calling her the love of your life for a while now, and it's still true. Even now, you wish that Julia was here with the two of you. Knowing her, she'd be splayed out on you and Ems' laps, humming along to the soundtrack whenever a song she particularly liked came on.

You miss her, the same way you miss her any time you're watching a movie. You really want to be open with Ems about your feelings, about why you like to watch movies with her even if it makes you a little melancholy. You can't do that if you don't tell her about the person who's been missing from the equation these last few months. About the black ring you always show off on your right arm.

Before you give yourself the chance to regret it, you speak.

"Hey, babe, could I maybe... talk to you about something serious?" Ems turns her head to you frowns.

"Of course, what's- wait hold on." She breaks the embrace and leans forward to pause the movie.

"Alright, you've got my full attention. What's up, Pens?" She's sitting cross legged on the couch and facing you. You already miss the warmth of her arm around you, but you push on.

"Um, you remember how I told you I've never been in a relationship before?" She raises an eyebrow and responds with a cautious,

"Yeaaah?"

"That's still true!" You raise your hands in a slight panic, "You're the first person I've ever had the wonderful luck of calling my girlfriend. You're just. Not the first person I ever had feelings for." You look away and gently caress your tattoo with your thumb, trying find the right words to continue. Turning back to your amazing partner you see concerned confusion in her expression. Stamping down on the guilt you feel for worrying her, you take a deep breath and continue.

"About, three years ago, I met someone named Julia. She was my next door neighbor at my old apartment. She... She made me realize I was a lesbian, and I had fallen head-over-heels for her." You chuckle a little sadly at the memory of the first time you admitted to yourself you were in love. "We were close. Really close. But we never crossed the line into something romantic." You swallow nervously, barely able to choke out the words.

"About 7 months ago, she died." Immediately, Ems pulls you into a hug. She kisses the top of your head and runs her fingers through your hair. It feels nice, but you can't help but be a little confused at the sudden-

Oh. You started crying. You don't know when you started crying, but it has become abundantly clear as you see the tears staining Ems' shirt.

"O-oh shit. I'm getting your shirt dirty, I'm-" Ems cuts you off.

"I don't care about my shirt, Penelope." She says it with such authority and a certainty that it leaves your anxiety no room to try and sour her embrace. You sit there and cry for who knows how long, your best guess is 15 minutes, but it could just as easily been an hour. Eventually, though you stop crying. Ems doesn't stop holding you, and the two of you sit there for a moment, enjoying eachothers warmth. She breaks the silence by gently asking,

"What was she like?" You smile, remembering all the times you spent together.

"Amazing." Is all you can say.

"Do you still love her?"

"Desperately. I haven't had a single day where I don't think about her." Ems chuckles.

"Sounds like I might have competition." You snicker and pull back just enough to face her. With a roll of your eyes, you respond,

"Oh come on, that is the last thing I expected you to be worried about." Ems smiles back at you and wipes away your tears, gently whispering,

"There's that stunning smile again..." Your face goes red, and you vainly attempt to hide behind your hands.

"Jesus, Ems. Do you know how to not be charming?"

"Not really! That's why I'm so good at sweeping cuties like you off their feet." You burst out laughing.

"God! You cannot seriously be flirting with me this hard while I try to spill my guts out to you." She giggles alongside you,

"I don't know how you can expect me to act otherwise, when there is a beautiful kind-of-girl sitting in my arms in need of cheering up!" Grinning, you fall back into her chest, and focus on her steady heartbeat. After another few moments of silence, with you enjoying the feeling of her hand running along your hair, you continue.

"I wanted to tell you about her, because she was- is such a big part of my life. I hope I haven't scared you off? I know we're both poly, so it's hardly an issue for us to have feelings for other people, but I don't know. I figured maybe you'd find it weird I haven't... moved on, or whatever." Ems sighs.

"Pens, I'm not gonna fault you for holding onto the memory of someone important to you, or for still harboring those feelings. Though, I really do kinda wish you told me you were planning on talking about something serious tonight? I really had to change my headspace on the fly, there." You groan into her chest.

"Oh jeez, I'm sorry. I didn't even think about that... I was so worried about how you'd react that it didn't even cross my mind that it'd be awkward for you if I just brought this up out of nowhere..." She pats your head a couple times.

"Eh, it's alright. Just one of those things you learn about when you're in a relationship long enough." You give her a little affirmative hum and go back to nuzzling against her. Eventually, she asks, "Do you still wanna finish the movie?" You're about to give the automatic response you have saved for trying to people please, but you stop yourself.

"Honestly? Not really." You laugh. "I'm sorry, I kinda just wanna shower and go to bed." Ems chuckles,

"Heh, thank you for being honest with me." She kisses your forehead. "In that case I should probably get back to my house..." Ems is about to pull away from you but you wrap your arms around her shoulders. With a surge of confidence, you ask,

"You could also spend the night, if you want? We can finish it tomorrow over breakfast. Not to brag, but I make a pretty solid slice of toast with butter." Ems raises her eyebrows in surprise,

"Uh, yeah! I-I'd love that!" You smile and crane your neck to kiss her.

"Want to shower with me?" Ems' face goes bright red.

"Oh, wow Pens. I thought you weren't the biggest fan of sex?" Your face goes red right along with her.

"W-what? That's- No!" Both of you laugh into eachothers arms. It takes about 30 seconds for you to recover enough to clarify what you meant.

"I mean that in an entirely non-sexual context! Like, we just actually shower together. It's... It's something I've wanted to do with someone special for a while. It feels really physically and emotionally intimate without having to deal with sex. And, y'know. I want to be those things with you in a way that feels unique to how I experience those things. Does that make sense?" You're worried you were spiraling into nonsense, but the smile on Ems' face alleviates any worry you might have.

"Yeah. That sounds really nice, actually." Your heart soars and you find that you absolutely need to kiss her, right now. So you do, and it's wonderful. You take her hand and walk her over to your bathroom, on the way there, she asks,

"Do you think you could tell me more about Julia while we do this?" You give her a small smile, recognizing the rare tinge of nervousness in her voice.

"Yeah. That sounds really nice, actually."