Fresh’s heart beats strongly in her chest as she and Jubilee walk down the beach, towards a more secluded area. She had left her broom and the hat at home and the two of them now stroll down along the ocean-side. Fresh hasn’t said anything yet and neither has Jubilee, as the two of them just continue walking through to an uncrabby part of the beach. She’s been doing her best not to cry, but she hasn’t really been managing and not even the lulling drone of the crashing waves of the ocean seem to hide her feelings this time from the world or from her friend.

The two of them walk up a small incline, away from the houses and above the shoreline, towards a grassy area, covered in fronded trees. Jubilee turns towards her, after making sure the area is clear of any interested eyes or ears.

Fresh has never been in a relationship before, let alone been broken up with and she’s certainly never had a real friend before and lost them either, but she’s pretty sure that this is what it feels like. She can feel the knot in her chest being pulled on from both ends and growing tighter and tighter, rather than becoming loose and unraveling. The deeply set emotions just seem to hurt more and more as she realizes what is about to happen.

She’s not going to get an extra week to spend with her friends, before they cast her out. It’s going to be here, now. Come the sunrise, she’s going to be drifting off alone somewhere in the world, much like she had arrived in it and honestly, she isn’t sure how she’s going to find the energy to do it all again.

The two of them stare at each other, the waves of the ocean crashing noisily against the shoreline with a constant nudging static that keeps trying to break the tense silence, as if the ocean itself were attempting to set off the inevitable explosion.

“I’m sorry, Jubilee,” is all that Fresh manages to say, closing her eyes.

“You really did it this time, you know?” they ask. “What the fuck?” she hasn’t been able to open her eyes yet, but she can hear Jubilee’s hands slapping down against their sides as they let their arms fall back down. “You really went there? You really did that?”

Fresh howls, not able to form any coherent words. Jubilee isn’t even yelling at her. They’re just disappointed and as the time-tested expression stands true, it hurts her so much more than if they were shouting and cursing at her. She wants Jubilee to hit her, to yell at her, to call her stupid and worthless and dumb, because then at least some of the spiritual burden will have been unloaded and the punishment to come thereafter will be less severe.

But that isn’t what happens. Jubilee has grown far too much as a person to strike her or to curse at her. How did they know about her excursion, though?

“The mirror,” says Jubilee, as if reading her thoughts. They really do know her too well at this point. “You made me a creepy-ass, stalker mirror, remember?” they say. “I woke up because of the storm and you were gone. So I checked the mirror. I watched the whole thing.”

Fresh gasps, opening her eyes. “What if I was in the shower?!”

“You dumb-ass!” barks Jubilee at her, their sharp tone brings her great relief. “Of course I fucking checked downstairs first! I’m not Basil!” says Jubilee, slapping the back of their hand into an open palm.

“Huh? What does that mean?” asks Fresh, not able to look up from the dirt she wants to crawl down into and die in.

“You really do have more goo than brain in your head, don’t you?” asks Jubilee, placing their hands on their hips and leaning in towards her. “It means that Basil wants you to sit on her face and pretend that you’re a slime during an earthquake, you goon!” yells Jubilee at her in one long, breathless insinuation and Fresh finds her face growing flush at this crass suggestion. That obviously couldn’t be true. Basil is one of her best friends and a holy woman of the cloth at that. “I was worried about you!”

“I’m sorry Jubilee,” says Fresh, just about recharged enough to start crying again. “I’ll grab my bag and I’ll… I’ll -” She sobs. “I’ll leeeave~” howls Fresh.

“Like fuck you are!” says Jubilee, jabbing a finger into her gut. “First you go off and curse that two-bit hero without me,” they say accusingly, pressing their finger into her stomach. Fresh stands there and takes it, not wincing. “Then you gave that potion-guzzling, red fuck some comeuppance, without me!” they say, poking her again. “And now you want to fucking leave?!” They ask. “Without me?!” shouts Jubilee and Fresh opens her eyes, noticing that for the second time in her life, she’s seeing tears in their expression. “I thought we were friends?!” yells Jubilee.

“We are!”

Jubilee steps towards her. “Then why don’t you fucking act like it?!” they yell. “What’s with all this middle of the night fuckery?! Is it the fountain?” asks Jubilee, to Fresh’s surprise. “It’s making you do this, right? You’re not just this selfish and stupid, right?!”

Fresh continues to cry, staring through her wet eyes at Jubilee as she herself fights her way through the ache in her throat that prevents her from speaking. The answer might be a little of both, honestly. But how does Jubilee know ab-

“Of course I know that something is fucky!” they insinuate, reading her mind again. “You think I just want to stand downstairs and make a creepy, fucking, black robe?” they ask, pulling on the fabric of the robe that she’s wearing. “You think I want to stay in this city, when I know the fucking church is going to be marching through here in full force?” they ask. “We’re all being fucked with. We can feel it too!” The waves continue to crash against the shoreline.

Jubilee turns their head to the side, glaring at the ocean through eyes as wet as her own. “Go fuck yourself!” yells Jubilee at the eaves-dropping ocean, which doesn’t bother to respond.

They point back at her. “I’m not even mad about what you did,” says Jubilee. “I’m mad that you don’t even have the slightest bit of faith in us to accept the circumstances for what they are, you selfish dick!” they exclaim. “How do you think we would have felt if you didn’t come back tonight?!”

Fresh stares at Jubilee’s hurt eyes, realizing something that she had seen before in other’s expressions. “Jubilee,” sniffles Fresh, her eyes growing as wide as the full-moon which has returned to the night-sky. “Do you like me?”

“Of course I fucking like you! Shit-head!” they yell. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be out here!”

She stares at their tears. “No, I mean… do you like-like me?”

“What?” asks Jubilee incredulously. “What the fuck? Of course I fucking like-like you, you fish-brained schmuck!” Jubilee hits their hand into their open palm again with every syllable to come. “But. That’s. Not. Imp- or- tant!” snaps Jubilee. “We’re trying to survive here!”

Fresh stares at Jubilee for a moment and then finds her legs giving out as she sits down on the grass, turning her gaze out towards the ocean. There’s a lot to process here. “I’m sorry that I’m a bad friend, Jubilee,” says Fresh, considering her options for a moment. “You’re right, the fountain is making us do things that we don’t want to do.”

Jubilee sighs a long sigh and sits down next to her. The two of them are quiet for a while, just staring out over the endless ocean that is awash in starlight.

“So,” says Jubilee. “Other world, huh?”

“Yeah…” replies Fresh, looking up at the night-sky which is now clear of clouds, leaving only a starlight filled ocean to hover above the mirroring surface of the world beneath it. “It’s a whole thing. I didn’t know how to tell you without sounding weird, honestly,” admits Fresh.

“I bet,” acknowledges Jubilee. “Look, I don’t really care where you came from or who you were before. That’s not what this is,” they explain. “It’s not what it is for me, for Basil or for Shamrock. It doesn’t matter. We’re all doing something new now,” they say, leaning back with their hands behind themselves in the grass. “Anyways, are we destroying the world or something?” they ask.

“We might be,” relents Fresh.

“What does the fountain actually want?”

Fresh looks at them, before turning back to the ocean. “I dunno. But I don’t think we’re gonna like it.”

Jubilee sighs. “Well. Shit.”

Fresh nods, leaning back too. Her hand lands on top of Jubilee’s, but not by accident. “Yeah…”

“Good thing there’s more than one world. Apparently,” says Jubilee. Fresh can’t help but start laughing at this absurd statement. Sure, there’s a point to be made there. But it’s not really a great one. Though, maybe that’s the idea? Jubilee really is a good friend in a lot of ways. It takes her a minute to finally stop laughing and she can tell that Jubilee is restraining themselves from becoming infected by her sudden outburst. The whole situation really is absurd, isn’t it?

Deciding that Jubilee's feigned non-acceptance of the absurdity of it all is unacceptable, Fresh seizes her opportunity to attack her unguarded friend and springs to action, suddenly tickling them beneath their arms and around their neck. Jubilee isn’t able to hold back, suffering the consequences of their cruel fate as Fresh presses her stabby witch-fingers into her howling, flailing friend, who has fallen back on the grass.

“Get off of me, you creep!” laughs Jubilee, not able to fend her off and also not really trying too hard. Jubilee rolls their head around, trying to get away and as the two of them play-fight, the fabric of Jubilee’s hood snags on some twig beneath them, pulling it off as they twist their head to the side.

Jubilee freezes and Fresh, not able to avoid looking, stares at the first part of her friend’s body that she has ever seen, apart from their eyes. It’s exactly as she had expected it to be. All of her inclinations and assumptions come together, having been proven undeniably by this moonwashed sight before her eyes. Jubilee’s gaze slowly turns towards her from beneath their mask, turning to meet hers as the two of them stare at each other for a tense moment, neither sure of how to break this new, even more awkward silence.

She searches for the words that she wants to say, but she doesn’t quite manage to find them as her mind rushes from one image to the next of what she imagines must have been her friend’s previous existence. In absence of her words, she expects Jubilee to make their escape, now that the danger of an expressive moment is abound.

But Jubilee, having come to a decision, slowly lifts their hands, stopping for a moment as their fingers wrap themselves around the sides of the mask. It takes them a second to build their resolve, but without a word, Jubilee lifts it up and away and the two of them stare at each other for a while just like that. Fresh is crying again, which doesn’t help Jubilee’s unsure expression.

Fresh cries for the sake of her friend and also for the sake of the moment, planting her face down next to theirs, wedging her face in between their neck and shoulder. “Hi,” she cries into Jubilee with a cracking voice. “I’m Fresh, do- do you want to be friends with meeee~?” she howls, feeling the hand coming up and holding her head.

“Gods you’re exhausting to be around,” sighs Jubilee. “We already are, goo-brain. And my legs are falling asleep. Can you get off of me?” asks Jubilee. Fresh refuses, deciding that she’ll just have to carry Jubilee back herself if they aren’t able to walk by the time she and they are done processing their feelings. She does push herself upright though, but not to get off of Jubilee. Rather, she takes the opportunity only to run her hands across the angular, sharp, pointy features of Jubilee’s face. Her fingers wrap around their head, her thumbs running over their cheeks.

“This is weird. You’re making this weird. You’re doing a weird thing,” says Jubilee, raising an eyebrow and looking away.

“Sorry. I’m a weird friend,” says Fresh, lowering her head and rubbing her forehead against Jubilee’s pale, red skin as her fingers run through their matte-white hair, as her fingers run along their long, sharp ears as she, like an animal, imprints her scent onto her friend to claim them as her own. Much like she assumes Jubilee has already done for herself and the others.

How else could it be that no other demon has ever showed up and tried to take any of their feet in their sleep?

The answer is obvious. They were already spoken for.