Saturday night was blissfully absent of nightmares. Gus woke up easy. The only thing greeting him being the faint daylight out his bedroom window. His house casting a long shadow over his workshop. Gus went downstairs and heard the TV on again. But Susie wasn't watching it this time. She was fretting over her jacket and jeans, staring at the frayed edges and poking her fingers through the holes.

"You alright?" Gus asked her. "After- last night, I mean. Your mother."

Susie stopped eying her clothes and dropped them to her waist. She brushed a strand of her hair out of the way. It was damp. She had just showered.

"Yeah... I... I still got a bad feelin' about it, but- that’s done for now. Right now I'm just worried about- well I don't wanna look like shit at Kris's house."

That was a first. Susie never seemed to pay much mind to her appearance before. But what surprised Gus more was how much her mind wasn't on what had happened yesterday. She barely got to sleep last night and Gus sat by her side for hours, promising to be at her side until she fell asleep on his couch. But this was a delicate situation Gus didn't particularly think was very polite to prod in, especially after her extremely adverse reaction to the turmoil of yesterday evening. So he let it go.

"You wanna look nice for something?" He joked, leaning against the high wall of his living room.

Susie's frustration seemed to deflate, and she broke into a smile, a brighter vocal tone accompanying it. "Yeah. For once, right? I just- Miss Toriel invited us to Sunday dinner and it feels a little less- casual, y'know?"

"I can help you with that."

Susie turned back to face Gus. "How can you?"

"Well, my mother, she was about as tall as you, built like you too. She left behind some clothes when she... y'know."

"Oh..." Susie's gaze cast downward.

"Ah-ba-ba-ba..." Gus put his hands up, interrupting the feelings of loss. "No time for me to think about that, I guess. But uh, yeah. I haven't been able to find the heart to part with em', so... I imagine at least some would fit you - suit your style. She was one of them rebellious types in the sixties and seventies, you know? I always remember bein' real young and seeing her walk around in men's leather jackets, blue jeans, the type. I'm sure she's got something in good condition that'll strike a chord with you."

Within minutes Susie had found exactly what she was looking for from the closet in the unused bedroom up Gus's stairs. A black leather jacket and a pair of plaid bell bottoms that fit her snugly. Gus's mother had shoes that barely fit Susie. They were a size too small, but Susie insisted on "completing the fit." When she was done, she told Gus he could come in. She stood in front of the full body mirror, hands on her hips. She seemed proud of what she had put together out of decades' old clothes.

"Man, I just stepped out of another century. Damn."

"Looks good on you." Gus smiled. "Now you just need to cut your hair."

"No!" Susie exclaimed, shooting Gus a mean glance. Gus wheezed laughter through his teeth.

Susie looked back into the mirror and tilted her head curiously. "Although... I guess the long hair doesn't really go with it."

Gus was frankly startled she had such a genuine sense of fashion. She probably just never had the means to express it before.

"I don't wanna cut it though, I'd rather gather part of it back though. You know, like in a ponytail? Maybe the top half, I kinda like the idea of the rest of my hair flowing freely."

"Check the big plastic box." Gus pointed. "Should be some scrunchies in there. Ma wore a ponytail til the day she died."

Susie rummaged around and found a bright orange scrunchy. A bit garish, but it stood out against her dark hair perfectly, and the way she did it up was beautiful. A ponytail up top and it fell naturally from there. Gus was still impressed that she had fashion sense this damn good.

"Wow, Susie. That's a really good look for you."

Gus was already dressed in his usual attire. Plaid shirt, blue denim overalls, and slip-on workboots, but he chose the nicest of those things that he had on hand. Minus the cap he usually wore atop his head.

He glanced at the watch on his left wrist. "Well, it's about 11:30. The Dreemurr's should be back home from Church any minute now. We should get movin’."

Susie turned around and opened her mouth, but she seemed to get caught on the thought she was about to voice. "Sorry. Nevermind."

"No, it's okay. Go ahead" Gus encouraged.

"Do you... do you think Kris will like it? The way I'm dressed, I mean."

Gus thought about that question, and then he found himself smirking wryly, knowingly. He levelled his expression when he noticed Susie was glowering and embarrassed about it.

"Yeah." He said. "Yeah, I think he'll love it."

There was still a nip in the air when Susie and Gus stepped out on the front porch, their breaths visible. Gus turned around to lock the door- a precaution he rarely took out here in the countryside where he was for the most part safe from home invasion, and he could blow away any threat with a 12-gauge he kept next to his bed. But considering what happened yesterday evening, it was warranted. Susie tugged at Gus's flannel, and he turned around to see her pointing at something resting right beside the front door. It was a 12-string guitar. A nice one, too.

"Where'd that come from?"

"It's... mine." Susie answered. She bent down to pick it up. "It's the only thing Mom ever let me have... I thought for sure she'd break it or burn it or something for sure, but I never thought she'd... give it back to me."

"I didn't know you played guitar." Gus smiled. "I never could get the handle of it myself. But I'm alright with a dulcimer."

Susie chuckled. "Dulcimer? Geez, you really are a hick, old man."

Gus smiled. "Never claimed to be anythin' but!"

Susie plucked at the strings, frowning when she heard they were out of tune.

"Come on." Gus patted her on the back. "Take it with you. You can show Kris a thing or two."

Susie smiled. She tried tuning it as she walked down the porch steps. It was when she fumbled and slipped slightly, barely regaining her footing, that she stopped trying that real quick.

Gus cackled. "Maybe you can tune it on the ride!"

"Our holy friend and guiding light, Angel above, we thank you for this meal, may it fill our stomachs and our hearts. Amen."

Everyone at the table let go of their prayer circle and began digging in. Kris and Susie next to each other, while Gus sat between Asriel and Toriel. As was the prerequisite, Toriel had prepared an enormous butterscotch and cinnamon pie for the return of her eldest son and the two extra guests they were having over. Among other dishes were an entire roast chicken, some fried trout from what Asgore had handed off to Asriel before Gus took him home yesterday, green beans, snow peas, peaches, apples, watermelon slices, a hearty potato stew with mushrooms and chickpeas mixed among large chunks of carrots and onion slices, cornbread, grilled leeks, biscuits, and bread rolls. It was a lovely feast, all prepared to perfection by Toriel.

For the most part Gus spoke with Toriel about how the cabinet was coming along and how Susie had helped, she applauded Susie and she blushed. Kris and Susie were chattering all the way, joking and nudging at each other, testing Toriel's patience. It was the first time Gus had ever heard the boy speak, and his voice was about what he expected to come out of him. Asriel didn't seem to have much of an appetite, only eating a slice of pie, a chicken wing, and part of a bread roll. Toriel scolded him for neglecting his greens, but the college boy insisted he'd eat them as leftovers.

Gus was the slow eater this time, savoring every bite of this incredible dinner. He was almost finished when Kris nudged Asriel and whispered in his ear about something. Asriel perked up and whispered something to Toriel. "Oh!" the woman explained, the fur on her ears standing on end. "Right, right, right right..." She got up from her seat.

"So, Gus" Toriel began, "Kris told me that Susie had learned something about you."

"Oh?" Gus asked, wiping his mouth, genuinely curious.

"Yes. And I usually don't condone drinking alcohol in my house, but- well- you only have two shots a day, right?"

Gus shifted his eyes left to Asriel, and then right to Susie and Kris. Kris gave a thumbs up. "Yes ma'am." Gus answered.

Toriel put down a small jar. It was some commercial moonshine, the label underneath read 'butterscotch'.

"No..." Gus said. "You didn't." A wide smile drew across his face.

"After I heard you enjoyed this kind of drink I kept thinking about it and I remembered that this distillery up the mountain sells some, so I went up this morning and bought some. Lucky we are that this isn't a dry county, huh?"

"Whoah." Asriel said. "When do you go to a distillery, mom?" A coy grin on his otherwise tired face.

"Asriel you know even I like a little... something... every now and then. Mostly wine, though." Her eyes darted nervously around.

"You had some shine didn't you, Mom?"

Toriel backhanded him on the shoulder gently, and Asriel chuckled.

"Well maybe a little... but only a shot!" Toriel straightened her sweater. "And before you ask, yes, it was good."

She turned her attention back to Gus, who was still bewildered. "Anyway, Gus- here you go." She planted a shot glass down with the same insignia on it as the university shirt Asriel was wearing.

"What the..." he said. "MOM! I told you not to rummage around in my stuff!"

"I didn't go through anything. It was you who put it up on display in your room."

"That's still-" Asriel fumbled over his words. "-it's just for DECORATION."

"Sure didn't smell like it was just for decoration. Vodka, huh?"

"That was three days ago!" Asriel protested. "How did you smell tha-"

"AAAALRIGHT." Gus finally broke the long altercation with his drawn out, booming interjection. "Y'all can have this little drama later, I wanna try this lovely gift of liquor in peace."

Asriel and his mother suddenly seemed to remember they had guests. Both of them looked slightly embarrassed by their inappropriate outburst and they calmed down. "Sorry about that, Gus." Toriel smiled. Asriel grumbled.

Gus poured a shot of butterscotch moonshine, and in confidence, he downed it.

Everything about every single shot of whiskey he had ever taken melted away. This was sweet, so smooth it was damn near creamy, and the alcohol aftertaste burning through his nostrils after downing it was delicate. "Angel... that is... my god that is good."

"You wanna try a little cinnamon with it?" Toriel asked, pulling out a small jar of homemade syrup. "After all, I pair it with my pies for a reason."

Gus saw no reason not to, and agreed. He poured a shot and toriel put in a few drops of syrup, Gus stirred with the handle of a spoon and downed it once the cinnamon seemed to dissipate.

The expression on Gus's face read as though he had just seen god.

"Tori..."

"Yes?" she asked.

"We need to market this."

Gus stuck around after dinner so that he could watch a football game with Asriel, and Susie could hang out with Kris. Asriel had gone to the restroom right around the time Gus needed to, and Toriel said he could use hers upstairs.

On his way up, he heard the sound of soft strumming on his way up. He stopped to listen closer, and coming from his right, he heard a girl softly singing.

He tiptoed down the hall, quiet as he could for how large he was, and noticed the first door on his right was open a crack. He peeked inside, and saw Susie strumming at her guitar and singing to Kris, who was sitting right in front of her. Just from the sound of her voice Gus could tell she was singing much more softly and the song actually asked for in an actual performance, like she only wanted Kris to hear.

"In a fast German car..."

"I'm amazed that I survived..."

"An airbag saved my life..."

Susie and Kris leaned in close to each other, both mere inches away now. Gus stepped away from the door. He didn't want to tarnish that moment by spying in on it. It was some of the dorkiest shit he thought he'd ever seen, but... it made him happy to see them happy.

By the time Gus came back into the living room from his bathroom break, the game had started and Asriel was on one end of the couch. He looked like he was barely clinging to consciousness.

"Where's your mother?" Gus inquired as he sat down.

"She went out to take the trash off to the dump." Asriel answered groggily.

"I coulda done it for her..." Gus leaned back.

"She's like that." Asriel rubbed his eyes. "If she can do it for herself she absolutely will."

"Yeah..."

"God, I just wanna sleep..."

"You okay, Azzy?" Gus asked.

"I'm fine, I just- I- I barely slept"

"How come?"

"It's no big deal, don't worry about it."

"No, really, tell me. I might be able to help. I know a few good medicines that are sold over the counter that can fix you right up."

"Well- it isn't really getting to sleep. It's what happens WHEN I sleep."

"Oh." Gus leaned forward, at attention.

"I uh- I have these nightmares. Bad ones. And all of them are the same in some aspects. Recurring, you know? And I swear each time it scares the shit out of me. It's just a gamble whether I'll wake up gasping for air or not."

"Hmm... tell me about them." Gus said. "That is, if you're willing."

Asriel stared at him with red, tired eyes. "Well I- I've told you this far, I don't see why not." He leaned forward and rested his weight on his legs so that he could keep from falling asleep.

"It always starts here. In Hometown. I'm in the room with Kris, and it's early morning. He's still asleep. And it's snowing outside. Not a lot mind you, it's light. Something about it feels strange, though, like it's a little early for snow, you know? Not a lot though, maybe by three weeks at most? I go to wake up Kris because I feel like it's important, for some reason. I can't say why. But when I go to shake him awake, the covers just- deflate. Flatten. Like he was never under them to begin with. And nowhere I look, in the sheets, under the bed, under my bed, downstairs, he's not there. He's just gone. Disappeared."

Asriel now had Gus's absolute attention. It would take a knife to cut through his gaze right now.

"So I run to Mom. I shake her awake, and her sheets do the same. Go flat, no trace of her no matter where I look, no matter how hard I look. And I start freakin' out, right? I'm terrified, my mother, my brother, they disappear right before my eyes, so I try to run to dad's shop, but I step out the front door and everything about the front yard is wrong. That bunker- that damn bunker in the woods, down near the church, is sitting right in front of me for some reason. Some freaky fucking humming is coming from it, it gets louder and louder, and I can't bring myself to run from it. And the door just -explodes open. I freak out, and suddenly everything around me disappears, even the ground beneath my feet, and I just start tumbling, tumbling. Down, down. The air is cold and it whips my face like I'm running through tree branches. Eventually after like, three straight minutes of falling, I see ground. It's covered in snow. Everything is covered in snow. And then I hit the ground. Hard. I feel like every organ in my body is thrown a hundred feet into the air and then just violently pulled back into me. Like I split into a million tiny pieces and some... unknowable force is piecing me back together. But there's no pain."

Gus went even further into his lean.

"There's fog. Thick, dense, freezing fog. I can't see more than about a hundred feet in any direction. And then this guy- he walks up to me. One eye is missing, and the other one is jaundiced and his teeth are rotten... and... and he- well he kinda looks like you. But he's shorter, thinner."

Gus felt his heart begin to beat faster.

"And this guy is, he's covered, man. Covered in- what looks like blood. But it's not human blood, you know? It's more like that kind of- that blue stuff that some monsters bleed, you know? The ones who- don't turn to dust when they die. And he just asks me how my fall was. And it's around this time that I realize I'm naked as the day I was born. So I cover myself. And he laughs at me. It scares me. Like there's such- evil behind that laugh, it's so disgusting and off-putting, sneering and superior. He doesn't even wait for me to answer the question he asked me. He just says 'There ain't no shame here, boy. We've no need for it.' And then he turns around and leaves me without another word, and I see there's a hole in the back of his head.

This- metal plate hanging off the back of it."

Gus's heart began to pound. There was no way in hell that Asriel was describing what he thought he was.

But he was. He absolutely was.

"And I start walking. I'm not covered anymore. I just... keep walking. And I walk past this old barn with a fenced in area next to it, dead horses littering it, rotting cows in another fence. And the smell- god, the smell is beyond description. Even in the biting cold and the few inches of snow, it's awful. So bad that sometimes when I walk past this place I vomit. But not all the time. There's this house with a light on, but I don't want to go inside of it. I feel something there. I don't want to know what's inside. But I hear screams coming from it. And they're fucking horrible. They sound like the most agonized screams I have ever heard."

Gus shuddered, his blood ran cold.

"So instead, I keep walking until I find a road. I pass a... a horrible looking car wreck, but nobody's in it, and at the wreck there are these, these two burning houses on both sides of the street. And after that it just keeps ramping up. All these weird people talk to me. I meet a jester, you know, like a court jester? And he keeps talking about chaos and how it's the natural order of things, and then there's this salesman dressed sharp, with his hair slicked back and a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. He offers me all these weird deals and eggs me on, saying that heaven itself waits just down the road. And then several other ones I could mention, but there's just too damn many. Then the fog just- clears. Out of nowhere. And then I see it in the distance, I see the mountain. The big one. You know the one. To the west."

Gus was doing everything in his power to keep from exploding into a panic. This was not happening. This was NOT happening.

"And all of a sudden, I pass out. And then I'm there. On top of the mountain. Waist-deep in snow. It's so thick that the trees are bending over under the weight of it with the rime ice covering their trunks. Suddenly, I'm really warm. And a man is there. Tall, taller than any man I have ever seen. He’s real skinny and lanky. His face is made of bone, two black holes for eyes and this... disgusting grin. It's just wrong. Him existing is so, so wrong. Cracks run up and down his face, and he has this long black cloak on that blows in the wind. And then he raises his hands. There are holes in them. It's like- I can't... I can't move. And the holes in his hands, they have no bottom. There's nothing on the other side, just- black. Black... endless."

Guss was sweating from his brow now, deep breaths in and out through his nose.

"And then he starts moving his hands, whispering, speaking with them. It's like I can hear them, but not really. Like I can read them, but not really. It's indescribable, but I know what he's saying, sort of. He's saying I have to do something, and I can never fully understand what it is he's asking of me. And I'm too scared to ask. After I'm silent for a time, he just- he points. Points to the ground. And it starts shaking, shaking like I have never felt it shake before. And then the mountain splits. It just splits. In half. It's like this massive gap, as wide as a football field is long. And this dense black cloud, blacker than oil, just starts spewing out of it. And I've never felt more terrified of anything in my life, than at the end of this fucking dream. Every. Single. Time. And then I wake up."

Gus was hyperventilating at this point, staring Asriel in the face. He felt like he was going to scream. He was going to vomit. He needed to vomit. But he couldn't just leave now. Of all the things Gus was expecting today, he never, ever could have imagined anything at all like this. But he knew what he had to say. Asriel started off reluctantly at first, but the desperation and fear in his voice was so tangible and genuine the further he got into the story, it felt like he was unloading something that had been weighing him down for a lifetime.

"Wait for these dreams to pass, and under no circumstances- do not EVER- speak to that man on the mountain. Not in your dream. Not if you see him in real life. Never."

Gus stood up and covered his mouth. He charged to the bathroom on wobbly legs and flung the door open before falling weakly to his knees and vomiting into the toilet. Toriel got home right as he ran to the restroom and chased after him.

"My god, Gus! Are you alright? Are you sick? Was it the liquor?" She shot another five hundred questions as she stood over him like the concerned pesky mother she was.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." He waved her off. "I just... I need to get home, I think. I'm really not feeling well."

"I'll go with him." It was Susie. She and Kris were down the stairs, looking into the bathroom, the both of them apparently having come downstairs when they heard the commotion.

"But... don't you wanna hang out with Kris a little more?" Gus asked her. "Would you like me to just come pick you up later, Susie?"

Susie looked at Kris, and Kris seemed to understand. She slung her guitar behind her back by the strap. "You don't look too good, old man. I don't... I don't wanna leave you alone right now, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." He wiped the sweat from his brow.

Toriel packed him some leftovers quickly and shoved them into his hands, giving him the butterscotch moonshine and the cinnamon syrup.

"I'm... so, so sorry about this, Toriel. I'm just-"

"Shhhh." She hushed him. "Nonsense. You go home and get rest. You're not feeling well."

"Thank you."

As he and Susie walked toward the door, he noticed Asriel had fallen asleep on the couch. He was shivering.

Gus's tire had blown out in front of Grillby's and he and Susie were stuck in the parking lot. By some freakishly bad luck a sharp rock was in the middle of the road. The illness in his stomach had subsided, and he thought back to how he vomited as he was putting on the spare tire he had. There was a finality to it. Something about it, it felt like that would be the last time he would vomit for a while. It was such an odd way to feel about something. But he felt it. And something about that feeling was wrong. Unnatural.

Gus was on his knees, pushing in the last bolt with his four-wrench. Susie was leaning up against the back of the truck.

"You sure you're okay, Gus?"

"...Yeah. Yeah I am now."

"What happened back there?"

"I'll tell you later. I need... I still need a bit, alright?"

"Okay..." Susie looked around the parking lot, and suddenly perked up once she noticed it was completely empty, with nobody within earshot nearby. "Hey, you wanna hear something funny, I'm sure it'll cheer you up a little."

Gus thought about it for a bit. He really wasn’t in the mood after basically having a panic attack, but he decided it would be rude to not give the girl a chance. "You know what, sure. I could use a laugh."

"You know that graffiti across the street from here that popped up last week?"

"Yeah."

"That was me and Kris."

"WHAT?!?" Gus dropped the four-wrench. "Why in god's name?" He stood up straight.

Susie was quiet for a second. She seemed a little surprised by Gus's reaction.

"Kris thought it'd be funny to trick everyone that there was some sort of anti-human group in town. You know, liven things up a little." She smirked.

Gus was still mildly upset, but the more he thought about it, the funnier he found it, and he started laughing. "You know, he- he did stir up a bit of shit." Gus wheezed. "But damn, if his mother ever found out she'd kill his ass."

Susie looked scared.

"Oh don't worry, my lips are sealed." Gus waved her off and picked the four-wrench back up.

Susie breathed easy, knowing this would stay between them.

All that drama, all that wondering, for it to amount to a dumb joke between two friends. None of the speculation, wondering, questioning, curiosity- none of it made a shit. Gus couldn’t help but just let that tickle him pink. It damn well could have caused a panic, but Susie and Kris did it for the hell of it. It meant absolutely NOTHING. And to him, that was hilarious. But of course he couldn’t condone such behavior, and came to his senses fairly quickly.

"Thank you, for uh... telling me that. It does make me feel a little better. BUT NEVER, EVER FUCKING DO THAT AGAIN." He pointed a fat finger at Susie and gave her a stern look.

She put her hands up like she was going to start backing away, gulped, and nodded her head.

But Gus wasn't really mad. It was stupid and they could have got in serious trouble, but what's it worth spending your youth without raising a little hell for the fuck of it? Besides, nobody got hurt aside from a few snob-nosed pouty lips at city hall- well, them and the guys who had to wash it off, but they got paid for it! He hoped...

It was when he was done putting on the spare that he saw his dread. That bit of good humor left his spirit as quick as it entered. It was Arnie.

Not just any kind of Arnie, a drunk one. On a Sunday afternoon, of all afternoons.

And like most people, intoxication was Arnie's greatest lubricant for confidence. It was also an excellent lubricant for him to start slipping into the accent he tried to hide. He drunkenly strolled right up to Gus as he was putting the four-wrench in the bed of his truck.

"Heyyyy Gus- how about I-"

"Arnie. Not today. Not right now. I am not in the fucking mood."

Susie looked confused, wondering who this strange man was and why Gus was so firm with him. Gus hadn't been so openly severe in front of her before, not even in the confrontation with her mother was he so direct. He started walking around to his side of the truck when Arnie began unleashing all manner of hellfire from his lips. He waved his one fist in the air, a bottle of scotch far too expensive clasped in it, label out in the open for the world to view.

"OH LOOKIT YOU, MISTER ANGUS BIRCHBITER. BIG MAAAAN! BRUSHIN' OFF OOOOOLD ARNIE! You've blown me off four damn times this fuckin' week, you fuckin'... hayseed half-WIT!!!"

Gus just ignored him, Susie was already in the truck and he was about to join her, when Arnie said something that made Gus stop before he even opened the door.

"MAYBE IT'S TIME FER YOU TO FACE THE FUCKIN' FACTS! Yer ranch ain't worth half a hunnerd k cuz'a what you let happen there!"

Susie watched as Gus froze at the door. With an endless stone gaze, Gus backed away.

"What did you just say?"

"Ah said..." Arnie took a swig of his scotch. "You. Let. It. Happen."

Gus made an uncomfortable, anxious smile. And he laughed. But he was not amused. He was not amused in the least. He began walking back toward the back end of the truck.

"Yer damn mama, Gus. Yer own fucken brother... you knew age hadn't taken one fuckin bit of the mean streak outchyer daddeh, but you couldn't get there fast enuf when yer own brother screamed at you over the phone that him and yer mama needed help. You moseyed on over there like nothing was happenin'. Ev'ry bit of blood you saw was on you, selfish FUCKIN you."

Gus was less than six feet away from Arnie at this point, but Arnie was too drunk to get the message. He just took another swig of his scotch.

"I wish yer daddy put a divot in yer head with that fryin pan, too. We all do, Gus. This whole damn town!" Arnie laughed hard and took another swig. "And maybe, just fucken maybe, if you was dead, you wouldn't have to mope about how that hag you was married to was sneakin off the reservation to get some dirty, damp, and deep from somewhere else."

"So." Gus said, undertones of rage betraying the calm of his voice. "Your... brilliant idea to get me to sell you my ranch for nearly a third less than its worth, is by telling me that the murder of my brother and mother is my fault? And to... insult me about my ex wife's infidelity?"

"Seems about it." Arnie burped.

"Mmm, brilliant." Gus chuckled.

Gus snatched the bottle from Arnie's hand. He tipped it over, emptying it on the parking lot asphalt, staring right through Arnie as he did it. The cat looked pissed, as if he were about to do something hasty. That was until Gus smashed the bottle on the back of his truck. The thick glass of the lower half exploded, showering the bed of his pickup with pieces. Arnie seemed to sober up real quick after that.

Susie got out of the truck, having seen the whole thing. She started moving toward Gus and began pleading with him. "WOAH. WOAH, MAN, WOAH. GUS."

Gus held out a hand toward her, stopping her from coming up to intervene any further.

"H-hey now." Arnie said shakily. "Y-you cain't do this to me. I-I'm disa-dis-disabled." He smiled nervously and wiggled the nub of what remained of his right arm.

"Oh but I can." Gus approached him, the broken end of the bottle pointed toward the drunk, hapless fool’s neck like angry, sharp, jagged little teeth.

Arnie was backing up without looking where he was going, and Gus was advancing, pushing him back without even having to touch him.

"I absolutely fucking can, Arnie. There are repercussions to it, of course... legal consequences and ramifications, things most people don't want to deal with, things I myself don't want to deal with."

There was a certain menace to the way Gus approached Arnie, towering over him, swaggering, the sharp, broken bottle held inches away from the fat cat's neck.

"But I'm past that, now Arnie. You sure did have a lot to say. Had a lot of shit to talk. And now, I'm gonna show you a thing or two about why keeping your fuckin' mouth shut can be a very, very good thing. And by the time I'm done, you're really, really gonna hate me."

Arnie promptly wet himself. The smell was immediate, and foul.

"Oh god, Gus. Gus please, man. Chill, dude!" Susie shouted after him. She slammed her hands on her head, shaking.

"Please, please god I'M SORRY, GUS, I-" Arnie’s pleas were cut short when he fell back, tripping over the curb of the sidewalk that Gus had guided him to. But Arnie never hit the ground. Gus caught the collar of his shirt, preventing him from falling. He pulled Arnie to stand straight on his own two feet and let him catch his breath.

Gus stared him down angrily for a few seconds. The cat’s eyes were wide, his pupils barely even slits, sweat rolled down the thick purple fur of his forehead, and his entire body heaved with each agonized breath. Gus threw the bottle to the side. Arnie shut his eyes tight when he saw Gus move, and the sound of the bottle breaking made him jump.

Gus had no idea how to process what just happened, and Arnie especially didn't.

"You ain't gettin' my land, Arnie." Gus let go of his shirt. "Get the fuck out of here and sober up. It's Sunday. Spend time with your folks."

Gus pushed the purple cat away and turned around, heading for the truck. Arnie just stood there, watching, soaked in his own urine. Susie was dumbfounded, but without asking anything, she loaded back up into the truck.

As Gus cranked the engine, Susie looked back to the old cat. He fell to his knees where he stood. It looked like the man’s entire world had collapsed, and he had been sapped of all his energy, going from the haze of drunken foolishness to the cruel reality of sober realization within a matter of minutes. She almost pitied him. Almost.

There was about a solid minute of awkward silence on the ride back before Susie broke it.

"...God!... What was that back there, man?"

"I don't... I don't know..."

"Are you alright?"

"No. No, I don't think I am."

The rest of the ride home was silent.

Gus ran to the bathroom and started washing his face the moment he got home. He needed the sensation of cold water on his face to relax.

"What was that guy's deal, Gus?" Susie asked.

"He's... a regular at Grillby's. I got a piece of land for sale and I keep turning him down. He finally took it a step too far and I... snapped."

Susie let the silence fill in the gap between Gus's answer and her next question.

"What he said about your family- about how they died... was that all true?"

Gus turned the tap off and wiped his face dry. "Oh. You... heard him."

"How couldn't I, he was screaming it to anyone who would listen."

The subject already being in Susie's ears made the prospect of just telling her about it seem easier now. But not just yet.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's true. And I want to tell you about it. I think it's important that you know. For you.

For me. And also because it... has to do with what I was so upset about earlier. But let's just sit down and watch a little TV first, okay?"

It was at the end of a short movie that Gus muted the TV and leaned back on the couch.

"I think... I think I'm ready."

"Okay." Susie sat and listened.

"When I was about six years old, my father, he had an accident helping a friend patch up his roof. A nasty wind storm had blown through just a few days earlier, and he needed to keep the snow out of his attic. So, my dad went up there with him, and was tearing out boards when he lost his footing and started rolling down the roof. He couldn't stop. He fell off- and landed head-first onto a metal fence. One with those spikes to keep people from climbing."

Susie gasped.

"He lost his eye, and a part of his brain. He was... different... after that. It's like all the positive emotions he had took a backseat. It was just rage. And drinking. And whoring. My brother was a baby around this time, but being a helpless infant didn't stop Pa. Every time he'd come home drunk and screaming, scaring the shit out of me and my mother, he'd hear Caden cry, and he would just go to his crib and shout at him. Slap him around, even. A baby, Susie. My dad beat a fucking baby."

Gus was choking back tears.

"It's easy to play the brain damage angle, but I just don't care. I can't care. I endured twelve years of that shit. Dad would come home drunk so often. He would beat the shit out of my mother and then me and Caden. He snapped at us with whips he brought in from the barn, slapped us, punched us, kicked us, held my head underwater so long I thought I was going to drown... One time he shoved Caden's face through a glass pane, cut him up, gave him a scar on his forehead that never left him. Caden always grew his hair out long on the front after that, so he could cover it up.

The worst thing is that most nights he'd just go to sleep with us or leave and go to be with one of his mistressess. On especially bad nights, Ma would call the police. But only when he beat her. Didn't want to get the element of children involved. And every time they come by, they'd ask if she wanted to press charges, and she would say no. They'd throw him in a drunk tank for the night, and the very next morning he was out, back on the hooch, and tormenting every single one of us. I blamed my mother for... a lot. I loved her, but what she did wasn't right. It's like a part of her couldn't choose between him or us, so she tried to find a way to keep all of us. But she could have killed me and Caden. Still. The only good memories I have growing up after dad's accident involved the time I'd spend with Caden, or with Ma, especially when it was the three of us. But it wasn't enough. I was SCARED, Susie. I got out as fast as I could. The moment I graduated high school.

I got married. I don't know what compelled me to do it. I guess I didn't want to feel alone, so that's what I did. I don't know if I even loved her now that it's all over. I was loyal to her, sure, but- maybe I was just trying to be what my dad wasn't. I failed."

Untold pain twisted Gus's expression into one of agony. "I was... I was a drunk too. But I never, ever hit her. Don't mean I wasn't violent. I got into fights. Some real, real bad. I was... fuckin' mean. Mean and angry at everything around me. Except my wife." Gus chuckled. "It's like I was making Pa's mistakes in reverse."

Susie was dead quiet, expectantly looking to Gus for him to continue.

"Caden got married at some point too. To some girl he actually loved and gave a damn about. But she left him. Caden, he- Caden wasn't a complete coward like I was. Caden knew he had to make something out of this, went to law school, came back a lawyer. But most of all, Caden knew someone had to stick around to protect Ma, so while I moved out and lived in my own damn house, he stuck around on the ranch. But it killed his marriage. Despite being small town he made it decent as a lawyer, but being a lawyer didn't stop the nightmare from continuing at home. He loved Ma too much to try and get Pa in prison, knew it would break her heart for some damn reason, but his wife, she couldn't take it. She had to leave. It was far too much for her to constantly be facing the wrath of this depraved bastard of an old man. They didn't even last two years before she left him. I didn't blame her...

...Pa had these... these dreams. He would ramble about them, drunk or not. The entire valley covered in snow and fog, insane men stopping to talk to him, the ground rumbling, and the mountain, down there..." Gus raised an arm and pointed west. "...splitting in half as some tall man, as he put it, 'spoke to him with his hands'...

...one day, about three years ago now, Caden called me, screaming over the phone early in the morning. He said he needed my help. That Dad had finally really lost it, and he was scared for himself and Ma. It was too late by the time I got there. And I tried Susie, groggy as I was, I tried. He had called the police and everything, but I was closer, so I got there first.

There was so much blood. You could taste it, there was so much. The entire kitchen was just- stained blue. I could only recognize my brother and sister by the clothes on their bodies. Dad had caved their heads in with a frying pan. When I walked in I couldn't- I couldn't say anything. How could I? He stood over them. His shoulders heaving with each rough breath. He didn't look angry. He didn't look happy. He didn't even look upset. He just looked- flat. Like nothing mattered anymore.

And he turned to face me.

He dropped the frying pan, and pulled out a snub nosed .38. And he just told me 'I spoke with him, Gus. I couldn't take it no more. So I spoke with him. I'm sorry.'

And then he put the gun in his mouth, and he fired."

Through choked down tears, Gus angrily continued. "It was the only time he apologized for fucking anything. 'Hey son, I spoke to the funny little man in my dreams. Killed your brother and your mother. Sorry.'"

Gus tried to replace his fury and anger with a half-hearted attempt at laughing at his own morbid joke, but instead he descended into deep, hysterical sobs, and he needed a solid minute before he could continue.

"Everything fell apart after that. My wife, she... screwed around with some prick behind my back because I couldn't 'perform' in bed anymore. Like I could after seeing something like that. She divorced me and took me for half my worth, but she let me keep my folks' ranch and this old shithole." He gestured to the entire house. "But I quit drinking so much, and I... I started trying to live different. I don't think I really started coming out of that shell til right about a week ago, though. Funny how that works...

...but what got me so freaked out today- is that I talked with Asriel today, and he told me he had trouble sleeping because he's been having the same dream that plagued my father all those years after his accident. And in it he didn't just meet the man who 'speaks in hands'... he met my father."

There was a dead silence in the room as Gus finished. The clock had run out of batteries and was no longer ticking. Gus stared off into the flatscreen, tears streaming down his cheeks. He was shaking his head, he didn't even want to believe what he had just said.

Susie, in her bewilderment, didn't say anything. Instead, she scooted closer to Gus, and wrapped her arms around him. Gus reciprocated, and they sat there together in a tight hug for a long while.