Chapter Text
Karen looked beautiful.
Her birthday.
She hated them. Said they made her feel old.
Bobby just loved her more.
Told her she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Made his heart hurt to look at her.
She turned, smiling, and he was headed in for a kiss when he saw the knife sticking out of her chest.
“Why? Why’d you do it, Bobby?” she asked, smiling sweetly. “I thought you loved me.”
Bobby woke up, yelling and soaked in sweat.
Pawing, pawing for that damned flask.
“I took the liberty of throwing that shit down the sink,” Rufus said. “You been yellin’ for a while. You best sober up, man, you ain’t no help to nobody, and that ain’t no answer.”
Bobby felt his heart doing kickflips in his chest and he collapsed onto the bed.
He said nothing further, but stared at a stain on the popcorn ceiling all night.
He could have sworn it was moving.
Next day, at least, he did feel better, if tired as shit.
“That’s what it’ll do to you,” said Rufus. “It ain’t real sleep. You wanna do this, you gotta get your head in the game, okay? I am sorry you lost her. I’m sorry about my mom, too! But if we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right. You with me?”
Bobby sat down at the diner in front of a mug of coffee that seemed to magically appear.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m with you.”
“All right, good,” said Rufus. “Because we’re gonna start fight training tomorrow – hey, don’t groan at me, I coulda said today, but outta respect for your hangover, I decided on mercy. Point is, we gotta be aware as shit out there, or we’re gonna end up on the other end of the thing, see? Just like them.”
“Okay,” said Bobby. “What do we gotta do first?”
“Well,” said Rufus, now looking squirelly.
“What is it?” groaned Bobby.
“You ever dig up a grave?”
“Why am I doing this by myself?” Bobby complained.
“A. You need to build muscle. Two, I don’t work on the Sabbath,” said Rufus.
“Convenient,” said Bobby. “What about the respect for my hangover?”
“Just be glad you ain’t dodging right hooks that you absolutely cannot dodge in your condition – ”
There was a loud clank.
“We are gonna be so busted,” Bobby complained loudly.
“Will you shut the hell up,” said Rufus. “Okay. Open it up.”
“And then what? Sell it to science?”
“No, you gotta cover it in salt and kerosene, lighter fluid, gasoline, whatever you got, and then light in on fire.”
“The shit? I gotta what – Rufus, this had better not be some elaborate as fuck prank – ”
“I swear it ain’t,” Rufus said. “It’s how you, uh, get them to go to the other side.”
“No go into the light?” Bobby asked, and Rufus shook his head. “Man. Why’s everything gotta be so damn violent?”
But he climbed out of the grave, they threw salt down, and Bobby lit his Zippo.
“All right, throw it in.”
“Throw it – you got any idea how much these things cost?”
“You gonna argue with me about this when there are lives on the line?”
“Rufus, there’s gotta be a better way.”
“You throw a lit match down there it just goes out! You gotta – ”
And suddenly, Rufus was airborne, his body hitting the gravestone and crumpling.
“Balls!” Bobby exclaimed, grabbing the shovel and wielding it at the invisible entity. “Guess ghosts don’t like to smoke out, huh?”
Rufus came to just about then.
“Toss me the lighter!”
“Are you crazy?”
“Toss me the lighter, damn it!”
Finally, he did, just in time too, as he went sailing across the cemetery himself and crashed into the side of a mausoleum.
He saw, through the haze, Rufus light his Zippo and drop it into the grave.
The ghost appeared, screamed, and disappeared in a column of fire.
Bobby hobbled over to Rufus and helped him up.
“Thought you didn’t work on the Sabbath.”
“God will forgive me.”