Firefly, where are you? I really need you right now.
I’m out near the end of Route Guano, motorbaby. What can I do you for? Should I go put on my ass-kicking pants?
(really though. What’s wrong, Ri?)
Just tell me something, if you could:…
Motherfucker. Shit. ShitfuckChristinghellgoddammit. That isn’t unexpected, but sure as hell isn’t what I wanted to hear.
I got a very disturbing message from BLI yesterday, Firefly. Can you guess what it was?
Oh. Oh, Ri, where are you, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Fuck me. That’s. Wow. Holy wow.
It’s not really him, Ri. It’s someone else wearing his face. If they’re even telling you the truth, which they might not be.
I’m in the same place I have been for two weeks, if you really want to find me.
It wasn’t a visit, just a message, sent through that channel they use to communicate with Killjoys, you know? But he used his real name. MY real name. Talked about our parents. I… I think they made him an Exterminator.
Do you need someone there? We can go out and get you good and drunk, if you want.
Ri, everything he knows about you, it’s stuff that they’ve told him. He’s not Hustler anymore, he’s an Exterminator or a Drac who’s wearing his face. He doesn’t remember who he is, not really, doesn’t remember the bond you two had, doesn’t remember you as his big sister. It’s not him.
Please don’t get me trashed, that’s just… a bad idea right now. Can we maybe go for a drive instead? I need to clear my head.
But… You can go back and look at the message. It’s still him but it’s tainted with BLI, it reeks of them but deep down there’s enough of him to make this really fucking scary. Is he coming for me, do you think?
Driving it is, my friend. I’ll be there soon. I’ll listen to the message on the way over, you don’t need to hear it.
Don’t think like that. It’ll get you killed, okay? It’s NOT STILL HIM. Remember those shitty zombie movies we used to watch, and when someone’s girlfriend or uncle or whatever got turned into a zombie, that zombie would eat them and not remember who they were? It’s like that. Hustler is like those zombies. He doesn’t really remember you, he just knows how to act like he does, and he will fucking ghost you without a second thought- or make you like him. You’ll end up dead or with BLI if you don’t keep your head on straight, Ri.
But fuck, Firefly, why would they go through all this? If it’s just for their purposes, why would they make him almost exactly like he used to be? I can’t get my brain wrapped around this right now, I really can’t. It’s my brother in there somewhere.
Because they’re assholes. Because they like fucking with us. Because they know you loved your brother more than anything in the world and would have done anything for him. Because you know a lot of info, you know Dr. D’s hideout, you know where so many Killjoys set up shop, and they all trust you, you’re their Mama.
Riot, baby, if they catch you, you will tell them all of what you know. You will be the Judas. And you will get them all killed.
Hustler is dead. His body might still be walking around, but he’s dead, and he’s been dead for a year. You have to accept that.
MotherChristingshit, I really cannot do this right now. I came to terms with his death, but this is so much bigger, so much worse. I wish I could send an army after him - no, it - so I would be safe. I wish I could. Do you think he’ll find me? I don’t know what I’d do if we came face to face.
I don’t know, little one. He might. But I’ll be there if he does, and I will do whatever I have to to keep you from doing something stupid.
If you want to get an army together to take him down, I’ll be your commander in chief.
I’m counting on you to mean all that, Firefly. If you see him, ghost him on sight- you knew him, you know what he can do. And that goes for me too, if I do anything other than kill him- it, dammit. Kill it. If I do anything other than kill it, you have to do the same to me.
I’m not gonna dust you, you dumb fuck. If you do something stupid I’ll whack you in the temple to knock you out and then shoot It in the face. And then I’ll spend about five years yelling at you for being stupid. But unless you do something COMPLETELY DUMB like fuckin’ join up with him and turn on me, I’m not gonna dust you.
My head’s just in a billion places right now and none of ‘em are good. Are you busy with one of your houses? I’d really enjoy your company for the next day, maybe two, if you can spare it. Suddenly the Zones seem really small and really scary.
