Chapter Text
Things had gotten fuzzy in the last few hours.
No, nothing had actually gotten Fuzzy - except for maybe Ben. He was pretty sure he saw the bear in their room, when mom had left the doorknob with him. Which he found funny because Ben was supposed to be the older brother, wasn’t he? Though he couldn’t do much older brother-ing right now. Must be why mom left him the doorknob.
He didn’t feel any older. He felt as eight as he did when dad had left for help. Like his sister biting him on the nose. Like when Ben laid down on their bedroom floor, twitching, teeth rising up from where puddles of him began to spread. Which really sucked. Floor teeth had to be so hard to brush. You couldn’t get them over to the sink and people would keep stepping on them - it was a losing battle! And Ben hated to lose. Always got him worked up in army men.
It made him feel a little less bad about brushing his teeth, looking in the mirror. At least his teeth you could pick up, walk around with. At least they’d stuck to his mouth. Mostly. Mostly… his lungs connected to his mouth - as far as his science teacher had said - so they counted as part of his ‘mouth’ like his throat and nose and eyes did. Maybe not his eyes. But he’d heard dad once grumble about how eyes and dental weren’t covered by some insurance, so maybe they counted too.
He missed his eye. Seeing hasn’t felt right since he lost it. He could still see but it didn’t feel right. Shapes, vibrations, smell - he felt it when he breathed. The bathroom around him, the water from the sink, felt and saw the bristles when they poked where his eye had been. He still had the one, but Joel knew it would go soon. He could already feel more of them creeping behind it. Teeth on teeth on teeth. Toothpaste stinging optic nerves and against nasal cavities. Bigger words than Joel has the capacity for.
Maybe he was hoping thinking words like that would make him feel older. Old enough to look after Ben and Molly. Wait for mom and dad to come back from wherever he went. Brush his teeth on time and tuck himself in like a big boy. It was too early for bed, but maybe when he was finally done brushing his teeth, they could all have breakfast together and things would be okay. And Ben could go back to being the big brother.
Maybe.
Someone was here.
He smelled him before he saw him in the mirror. Pizza bites and something like old pennies. Like dad too. It was dark enough that for a second, he almost thought it was. But dad didn’t wear purple, and he didn’t look so tired unless mom hadn’t gotten coffee yet and he had to wake up with tea instead. He had messy hair like Joel’s, which Joel especially found funny since he’d been told time and again that everyone had to brush their hair, even adults, or else they’d get full of knots. He must not have gotten the memo.
Maybe he was just too tired to do it. He sounded like it. His voice was almost too soft to hear, and Joel felt thankful teeth hadn’t grown into his ears (the thought of brushing wax off alone sending a gag around his throat brushing.) He said he was a neighbor, and Joel believed it. Him and mom must have talked sometime in the halls. Or maybe he’d talked with dad? Things were getting fuzzier.
He asked about them. Mom, dad, Ben, his sister… he said something funny about dad, sleeping forever. That can’t have been right since Joel could still smell him - he had to be somewhere. He had to get help. He wouldn’t just leave to go take a nap. That seemed more like something this neighbor would do. Had his
Mom let him in? Could she? He still had the doorknob. Ben smelled like pennies too.
His arms were getting tired from brushing. So he sets it down, and watches the man stiffen, and his eyes turn wide - the most awake he’d seen him since he’d entered. Someone had spilled a bunch of ketchup on him. The teeth were pushing out against his eye, pupil splitting, mouth getting wider, wider - stretching like Ben’s did. His little heart hammered in his chest and it pushed against more teeth. He didn’t want this. He was scared. His vision grew fuzzier, his mind wandered, his teeth rattled together as he breathed sharply. This was too much for a kid to take.
“Fuzzy…”
And like a magic trick, there he is. Pressed into his hands with the same care as the day mom got it for him. Still smells like dryer lint and mom’s perfume. The teeth in his lungs settle to soft clicks when he breathes, deep through his gaping mouth. “Hhh… you got him…” He can feel the details and see a picture overtime. Soft brown fabric, a pair of black glassy eyes, little plastic nose, still roughed up by the time his sister teethed on it.
He reaches forward and hugs the man. That’s what you were supposed to do when someone nice did something nice for you. Mom had told him to ask before one time, but she always liked his hugs. Surely most people would too, wouldn’t they?
CRUNCH!
That taste of pennies fills his mouth. It’s wetter somehow, fresher. Like biting into a raw tomato or that chewy bit on the end of a chicken bone. He feels the nice man’s arm around him, holding him as his teeth grind him down, pull him in like the gears of a clock. His hand jerks back, less from will and more from the haphazard jerking of his muscles, pulled deeper into Joel’s small body. He can taste his dad, which feels weird, since he’s not sure how his dad is even supposed to taste.
Maybe like coffee. And old meat. And spit.
It happens too fast to keep track of. At some point he drops Fuzzy. He’s not sure when. Maybe when trying to get around the neighbor’s shoes. He feels bad because he wasn’t going to be hungry to eat with his family.
Breaths wheezing out of him in fits and spurts. The room comes back into focus. The neighbor is gone. Shame, that. Mom probably would have invited him for breakfast, if she knew he helped with Fuzzy. An alarmed wheeze leaves him, fumbling for the dropped bear. He’s been soaked through, and Joel’s mouth creases when picking up the bear, taking it quickly to the sink.
“Geez… was Ben - hhh - eating in our room?” Joel said, running cold water through the bear’s short, brown fur. “You got ketchup all - hhh - over you, Fuzzy…” Ketchup was a lot sweeter though. But Joel was still getting over the headache. He wasn’t looking forward to another. He was covered in it too, now that he was thinking a little clearer. There were a lot of tears where the teeth had shredded through the fabric.
Mom would probably tell him to clean up, just like he cleaned up Fuzzy. There were still clean clothes in the dresser, right? Though that meant he’d have to see Ben before he -
… he couldn’t stay here, could he? He gripped the bear tighter to his chest, wringing it out, lower teeth pinching gently around its head. He wasn’t hungry now, but he would be. Mom was still locked away behind a door he didn’t know how to fix. Dad was gone. She was somewhere in the walls, maybe the floors now. Ben was… Ben probably didn’t have much longer. It made his gut feel funny, though that could have been the neighbor. He was going to get hungry, and if dad couldn’t find help, if mom couldn’t cook, then he needed to take responsibility, didn’t he? Big brother and all.
Even if the only thing left to be responsible for was himself. Hadn’t mom said something like that when she’d hugged him? Take care of himself? The neighbors weren’t going to do it after all.
Stepping from the bathroom felt like sneaking out at night for some cheez doodles. Like he wasn’t doing something right. It was a straight shot from the bathroom to the bedroom, and Joel reached out to the wall to steady himself. He could still feel her somewhere in there, teeth grinding against wood, gurgling softly as she crawled between the pipes and insulation. His stomach felt funny again, and he shook his head. She was a big girl too now. She could… take care of herself. She still had mom after all.
When he stepped into the bedroom, Ben was still up. Army figures scattered around him, his flesh rooted to the middle like he was less of a child and more a fortress for them to defend. The helicopter - his favorite - was still gripped in his hand when he turned to look. “Hi Ben.”
He gurgled something, holding the copter with a wet explosion noise pushing up from his wreck of a throat.
“Ben, I… I have to go.” He hurried to his dresser. Grabbing his backpack off the bed to start putting clothes into. “I don’t think I should be here anymore.”
His head - or what remained of it - tilted with the creak of overstretched muscle.
“A neighbor - hhh - said dad fell asleep. Mom is with Molly, you’re - hhhhh -“ somehow, Joel swallowed. The teeth clenching at his chest like a zipper on a hoodie, then releasing with his next wheeze, “… if I’m… all that’s left, I need to go out, right?”
Ben didn’t comment. He shook the helicopter at some army men, making quiet shooting sounds.
Joel stopped packing, looking at his brother. As the new oldest, he had to take responsibility. Mom could still walk around, so could Molly. Ben couldn’t. He couldn’t leave him here to take care of himself, and he couldn’t bring him with. He set the bag down, walking over to his brother.
He settled across from him, grabbing an army man like he’d done a million times before. Picking blue, rolling in on tanks, encroaching his men to surround Ben’s only for the copter to get the drop on them, tossing them asunder with a gargled blast. He seemed happy, at least, even if he was losing himself more and more. Joel hoped it felt fuzzy like his brain had, but Ben was trembling as he crashed the helicopter, his lone soldier coming out to face the rest of Joel’s men.
He was scared too.
“I don’t want to go either.” He clacked an army man down a bit too hard, one of his legs bending at a funny angle, the plastic warping. Whatever Ben had left for eyes looked back at him like pools of spoiled milk, as a hiccup shuddered from Joel. “I can’t help - hhhh - us. I don’t - hhh - I don’t know how.” His shoulders shook, “A neighbor came over. He could - hhh - c-could have helped, and I. I…”
Ketchup. It was just ketchup. It seemed less believable the more he said it.
Smelled like bad breath and plastic. The tendril barbed with sharp teeth was gentle though, bringing itself around Joel’s back, meeting in the middle with the helicopter still clutched in Ben’s hands. It was the best hug he could do right now. And this time Joel shut his mouth to return it, as best as he could at least.
It felt like they held each other for hours, and Joel shushed his teacher’s voice in his head, reminding him of how to read a clock. Ben moved back from him with a softer wheeze. He was getting too tired to hold the helicopter, even though it was his favorite. He pressed it into Joel’s hands instead, and Joel felt like a soldier with his general standing over him, as Ben gave a weak thumbs just like they’d do in the game.
Fight on, soldier. You’ll blast those bugs out of the sky!
And Joel nodded. Ben didn’t need to say anymore. He couldn’t, but that didn’t matter. “Goodbye, Ben…”
And just like that, his head began to split, further and further apart. Spreading outwards like a blooming flower. His hands stilled, then went limp, and joined with the growths making up his feet. His milky eyes somehow faded even further, and the back of his skull broke with barely a sound.
He was gone.
Joel sat there with him, waiting for the moment his brother might come back. But he’d known when he stepped back here that Ben wasn’t long. Maybe he could even smell death now when breathing through his mouth. It wasn’t a comforting thought. But, like a soldier would, he cut his mourning short to pack his things and change. He opted for his brother’s camouflage hoodie, zipping it so he was sure the teeth on his chest were covered, pulling the hood up. He pulled his backpack over his shoulders, tucked Fuzzy under his arm, and with a final look back, Joel left his bedroom for the last time.
The only thing he left was the doorknob, tucked into the glass dish where mom and dad kept their keys. Maybe someone else could come to help his mom and sister soon.
Maybe if he told himself that enough, he’d believe it like the ketchup excuse.