Chapter Text
Scary didn’t exactly feel anything when the Imposter finally released her, but the last thing she saw was the terrified and apologetic face of Taylor Swift swinging a microphone stand towards her skull.
Somewhere in the distance, someone screamed and then there were hands pulling her out of whatever weird, gooey cocoon that thing had put her in. More hands grabbed her arms, shoulders, shirt, easing her back into fresh air and onto the gross, cold linoleum floor of their shitty, underfunded high school.
Scary was cold, and covered in goo, and she couldn’t stop shaking.
There were voices all around her and someone was holding her and they were warm enough that she couldn’t help clinging to them tightly. Everything felt very far away still, like she wasn’t really back in her body.
Was she hurt? Why was she so thirsty? When did she take her shoes off?
“-cary? Scary!”
Her eyes snapped up and she finally took in her surroundings. She was by the girl’s bathroom, the one opposite the custodian’s closet. Her friends were huddling around her, either shielding her from something or her from the rest of the world. Link was the one holding her, both of them kneel-sitting on the floor since her legs had refused to support her weight. Normal and Taylor had grabbed a tonne of paper towels and were trying to get the worst of the goo off her hair and skin, which was kinda sweet in a totally annoying kind of way.
Scary’s looked at the voice - a man standing in the hallway, barely a few steps away from them.
Terry.
Her Stepdad.
Tears burned in her throat. He was there. I mean, she knew he was there because that weird Doodler Thing knew he was there but it was different seeing him in her school again.
“You could’ve fucking told them where I was,” Scary spat, her voice rusty and pathetic sounding. The anger she pumped into her words did nothing to hide the fact that she was definitely now crying and that her shaking had gotten worse.
Normal wrapped his uncle’s jacket around her shoulders. It smelled vaguely like smoke and Herbals. It was too big for either of them.
“I’m really glad you’re okay, Scary,” Terry said, kneeling down in front of her. She knew he wasn’t there - he was never there for her - but that didn’t stop her reaching out and checking for herself.
Her hand passed through him and she left it on the ground. Terry covered her hand. She couldn’t feel it.
“I told your friends what they need to know about Code Purple,” Terry said, each word gentle but deliberate - weirdly detached from his emotions. God, it was so fucking annoying when he spoke to her like that. Like she was a child, “I know some of the others don’t want you to go through with it because it’ll mean we won’t ever see you again, but- but you need to know, Scary, that no matter what you choose, I will still love you. I wish we had more time to get to know each other, and I wish I could’ve been the dad you wanted me to be. But I know if anyone is brave enough and good enough to succeed where I failed… I know it’s you, Scary.”
Three heartbeats passed in a tense, unbroken silence.
Then Scary keeled over and vomited black goo onto the linoleum.
The boys all reacted predictably, but they didn’t abandon her. Link gently pulled her away from the puddle, Normal handed her some paper towels to wipe her mouth, and Taylor produced a water bottle from somewhere.
Scary ignored all of it, staring at the puddle on the floor.
It wasn’t right-wasn’t normal-why was it distorted-why couldn’t she look away-what was it telling her-what was wrong with her-what
Scary doubled over as it felt like her head was going to split into two. Her pulse pounded in her ears and she could feel her muscles spasming. Was she having a seizure? Why was Terry looking at her like that? Didn’t he realise this was all his fucking fault?
She could feel… something - some power welling up inside her that didn’t feel like hers but felt close enough. It was how she felt when they’d turned those keys in the Obsidian Door. Indescribable, euphoric, neausiating.
Magical.
That dull, familiar presence in her head was back. Usually when she felt like this, the presence was comforting, a solid foundation to ground herself as she could feel the magic flooding her. Bonding with her. Changing her.
All the voices faded into static and Scary’s vision narrowed to just Terry Stampler. Just her step-father. Everything else was unnecessary. Useless.
She could feel herself vocalising, but it wasn’t her words.
“Typical,” Scary spat, “I knew Ron would fuck up raising you, just like everything else he did. I shouldn’t have let him get that far,”
Terry’s face was blank. Scary was crying. Her friend's grip around her was tightening.
“I bet he thought he was actually being smart with that Demiplane trick,” Scary’s voice continued, she could feel her purple-black eldritch energy try to coalesce around her hands. Scary used every ounce of willpower she had to keep it at bay.
“What do you want?” Terry asked, his voice calm and even. But his hand was shaking.
“Never gonna make Detective, are you?”
“Leave my Stepdaughter out of this, Willy!” Terry sounded more confident in his anger now.
“She agreed to this. At least one of my descendants has some fucking sense,” Scary was vaguely aware something was being whispered in her ear. It was distracting and just loud enough to keep her present.
“What did she agree to?” Normal sounded watery, and a little far away, but Scary still moved to look at him. She felt herself sneer, for just a second.
“Fuck, kid. It’s a good thing Barry isn’t here to see what happened to his family,” Scary muttered, scornfully.
“Answer him,” Taylor snapped, pulling himself up to play pretend at being threatening.
“He’s the source of the Daddy Magic,” Terry said, voice calm but tears beginning to well in his eyes, “Oh Theresa, I’m so sorry. I fucked up, I should’ve been there for you-“
Something inside her snapped and Scary scoffed through gritted teeth. She could feel her Patron’s surprise and used it to push him down as much as she could. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it would do.
“…not all…” Scary managed to croak out, keeping all her strength on wrestling back control for just that moment. She was breathing heavily, she wanted to sleep so badly, but this felt important. Like, end-of-the-world important. She had to say it, and she had to mean it, at least a little bit, “It’s… not all him… He wants the door… open… The door in HQ…. He wants what’s… behind it…”
She could feel her resolve crumbling. Inky purple smoke was seeping out of her palms, and her vision was starting to blur at the edges.
“You can beat him, Scary. He’s a coward and a bully and you’re so much braver than I was, I know you can fight him off,” Terry said, his voice and appearance growing fainter.
“What do… I do?” Scary asked. She hated how young she sounded. How scared she was.
Time was running out, the world was beyond fucked up, and Scary had a dead guy talking to her in her head.
Inexplicably - against all logic and current events - Terry smiled at her.
“You kick his ass, sweetie.”
And then Terry’s presence faded away and Scary finally fell into sweet unconscious again.