bad things happen bingo

The first thing Clay thinks is that it hurts. Which, yes, of course it would hurt to be stabbed in the chest. But he isn’t thinking about the pain of the wound. Clay can only think of the pain of breathing.

He desperately tries to suck in a breath, and then another, and another, and just one more, please, he can’t go yet, not before he’s gone to space. Gasping in, shuddering out. Sharp pains shoot up through his ribcage and into his lungs. He thinks he groans, but he isn’t sure.

“Don’t stress yourself too badly,” Clay’s attacker, who looks like he might be a detective when he isn’t committing murders, says. “Your time here is running out. Just relax, and soon you’ll be among the stars.”

The stars. He would like that, he thinks, to be among the stars for the rest of time. To be up there twinkling down on his loved ones. Clay tries to breathe despite his killer’s words. Blood forms on his lips, and he tries his best to spit it out so he doesn’t choke on it. The pain in his chest grows, and Clay doesn’t know if it’s from the wound or the lack of oxygen he’s getting.

I’m dying, Clay realizes with a start, like it wasn’t obvious to him before.

The edges of his vision start to fade. He feels a tear roll down his cheek, and for the first time, Clay acknowledges he’s afraid.

I don’t want to die, Clay thinks as the world above him gets farther and farther away. I’m too scared to die.

“Relax, Mr. Terran,” his attacker says. “Just breathe and let yourself go.”

But it hurts, Clay thinks. His eyelids drag shut despite himself. Breathing hurts so bad, but I’m not ready to go.

Gasping in, shuddering out, but it’s weaker. He’s losing himself. It won’t be long now. He thinks of Mr. Starbuck, Mr. Cosmos, of Ms. Blackquill and Dr. Cykes. He thinks of the HAT-1 mission’s harrowing success and how the HAT-2 mission’s barely begun. He thinks of his mother, long gone, who he’ll finally be reunited with. He thinks, as he takes one final breath in, of Apollo, his best friend, and his dream.

Clay breathes out, and the pain is so bad he wants to scream. The pain rests in his chest, infecting his lungs, and it stays there until everything fades, and Clay is gone.

It all happens so quickly that Velma isn’t sure what to think.

One moment Madelyn is standing out on the front lawn clutching the staff, and the next the gryphon is flying away with her in its clutches. The staff falls out of her grip and crashes to the ground. Nobody says anything for a moment entirely too long. The only sounds that fill the air are birds chirping and wind whistling, and Velma’s never hated the sound more.

How could this happen? Velma’s mom had specifically asked her to visit Madelyn to make sure she was okay. She stares at the staff, unmoving, even when everyone else starts to move around her. The familiar sting of tears trying to well up in her eyes and the growing soreness of her throat as she tries to swallow her sobs greets her after a moment like a very much so unwelcome guest. Velma can’t let herself cry. Not when Madelyn’s kidnapping is all her fault.

“Velma?” Daphne asks, laying a gentle hand on her friend’s shoulder. Velma isn’t sure when Daphne came to her side. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Velma says, but her voice cracks. She hopes she sounds convincing enough anyway.

Daphne frowns. “You don’t look fine.”

Velma’s eyes burn, and when she opens her mouth to reply, strings of saliva stretch between the roof of her mouth and her tongue. She closes her mouth and swallows to get rid of the excess spit. God, this is just pathetic, being unable to control her own emotions. She shouldn’t even be sad! She should be angry! And Velma Dinkley is not an angry crier!

Get it together, Dinkley! she scolds herself. Now is not the time to be acting like this!

“Really, Daphne, I’m fine. I’m just worried about Madelyn.”

“We’re all worried about Madelyn,” Daphne says, “but you look like you’re going to cry.”

“No, I’m not,” Velma snaps with more force than she means to. She blinks to try and dispel her tears. “I’m not going to cry, Daphne.”

Daphne, unconvinced by her friend’s weak lies, waves at someone over Velma’s shoulder. Shaggy, Scooby, and Fred, maybe? Velma isn’t sure she can bear to face them. She doesn’t want to, but a small part of her blames Shaggy for what happened. It’s irrational, and she knows this, but Velma just needs somewhere else to pin the blame so it isn’t all on her. Otherwise it just… hurts too much. Daphne eases them both down into the grass so they’re sitting before Velma can say otherwise.

“Wait, Daphne, we can’t just sit here and do nothing. Madelyn’s out there somewhere, and I need to go help her!” Velma protests.

“I’m not letting you go gallivanting off into the night in such a weak emotional state, Velma,” Daphne replies. “That’s just a recipe for disaster. In order to help Madelyn, you need to help yourself.”

“Hmph.”

Velma blinks more rapidly, determined to keep her tears at bay. She knows her face is red and splotchy from withholding her tears, but she doesn’t care. Not when Madelyn is in danger. In fact, Velma would never cry again if it meant that her sister would be returned to them right this instant. She pushes her glasses back up the bridge of her nose to keep them from sliding off.

“It’s okay to cry, Vels,” Daphne says gently. “No one’s going to be mad at you if you do.”

That’s what you say, Velma thinks bitterly.

“No, it isn’t,” Velma replies curtly. She crosses her arms and makes it a point to not look at Daphne. If she does, she may actually cry. “Nobody else may be mad at me, but… I’ll be mad at me.”

Daphne knits her eyebrows together in confusion. “Why? None of this is your fault.”

“Yes it is!” Velma exclaims. She swallows thickly before continuing. “My mom asked me to make sure Madelyn is okay, and I let her get kidnapped! I’ve basically failed her as her older sister!”

“Oh, Velma…” Daphne says, and her voice is all pity and concern that Velma is sure she doesn’t deserve. “Is that what this is about?”

“Of course it is! Madelyn is in danger because we had to stick our noses into this gryphon nonsense!”

“Velma,” Daphne says firmly, “no one forced Madelyn to run after the staff. She did that all on her own accord. She chose to put herself in danger to help us.”

“I should’ve stopped her,” Velma whispers. “I should’ve ran after the staff, not her.”

“We can’t change the past.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t wish I could.”

Daphne clicks her tongue. “If I let you guys beat yourselves up every time I get kidnapped during a case, we wouldn’t ever get anywhere.”

“Daphne—“

“Ah ah ah.” Daphne holds up her hand. “Save your attempts to make me feel better. That’s what my therapy sessions are for.” She rests her hand on Velma’s shoulder again, her gaze soft. “If I don’t let you guys beat yourselves up over me, then I’m not letting you beat yourself up over Madelyn. The only person who’s at fault is her kidnapper.”

“I… guess you’re right,” Velma admits, “but I still feel awful.”

“Well that’s because you’re refusing to let yourself cry,” Daphne says matter-of-factly. “Believe me, trying to hold in tears hurts, so just let it out.”

That particular statement makes Velma frown. “Daphne…”

“Nope, not dissecting that right now. Therapy, remember?”

“Fine.”

Velma sighs deeply and lets herself fall into Daphne’s side. With nothing else to do but think about her sister, her tears finally start to fall. Soon they spiral out of control, and Velma is sobbing uncontrollably. Daphne pulls her in close and soothes her.

“It’s going to be okay. We’ll find her.”

Velma nods, unable to say anything more. They’ll find her. They will. She just needs to shed a few tears first. After all, it feels a lot better than trying not to cry.