Chapter Text
The hearse rattled along the road, old engine grumbling like it was ready to give up. Pugsley sat in the back with his forehead against the window, watching trees slide by in a blur of green. It didn’t look anything like home out here. No fog curling around the gates, no crooked tombstones. Just sunlight and trimmed lawns and too much color. way too much
Pugsley wasn’t that afraid of color as wednesday, but it still had him a bit nauseous. it was truly an eye strain to acknowledge it, sometimes causing headaches.
Lurch sat in the front, his heavy hands stayed steady on the wheel, and every so often he let out a sound from the back of his throat, like he was chewing gravel. Pugsley shifted in his seat, tapping his knee. The closer they got, the more he could feel it sitting in his stomach. Not nerves, not exactly. something else.
he finally had a friend, that wasn’t a small achievement for him. it was huge. he’s always been an outcast, unsurprisingly. even at Nevermore he was left out. he finally had someone to talk to, someone who shared an interest with him even though they have different prospectives, bugs.
Although he almost died a few weeks prior, Wednesday leaving to find Enid was far more important to his parents. she never liked the spotlight, yet she lived in it. his parents weren’t present in the car. they stayed home, probably talking about his sister. as soon as he packed a few bags for the summer, he said his goodbyes and stepped out. he wasn’t expecting anything else honestly, it wasn’t like he’d be missed.
it was only him and Lurch.
this summer would be way better than last year, at least that’s what he kept repeating. The car rolled to a stop at the end of a bright little driveway. The house had shutters the color of mint candy, flowers spilling out of window boxes. Pugsley squinted at it. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to walk up without something bad happening.
he sighed, “Thank you lurch ” he muttered, pushing the door open.
Lurch only tilted his head. The sound that came out of him was long and low, impossible to translate. the hearse shuddered as it pulled away, leaving him standing in the sunlight with his bags hanging off one shoulder.
he approached the door, it opened before he could knock.
“ oh, hey you made it!” Eugene barreled out like he’d been waiting behind the door all day. His glasses were slipping down his nose, hair sticking up in clumps, and before Pugsley could brace himself he was wrapped in a hug that knocked the air out of him.
that was off. eugene was never the touchy type, especially towards pugsley. then again, it was probably out of pity.
“ hey, friend, ahaha! ,” Eugene said into his shoulder, he laughed awkwardly, pulling back with a grin. “ I’m glad you came. I thought maybe your family would drag you to a haunted carnival or something.”
“ They tried, ” Pugsley smiled. “I told them this would be worse. ” Eugene laughed in response. It came out a little too loud, like he didn’t know what to fill the silence with. he quickly grabbed the strap of Pugsley’s bag, tugging him toward the door.
Inside smelled like fabric softener and dirt. The air felt warmer than outside. One of Eugene’s moms waved from the kitchen, smile wide and easy, while the other asked if he wanted something to eat. Pugsley just nodded. He wasn’t sure what else to do with all that attention. it was way more than what he got at home. it felt nice. He smiled in response, giving small greetings to each of his moms. then, they headed towards eugene’s room.
Upstairs, his room was exactly what Pugsley pictured. Jars lined up on shelves, each one holding something that twitched or crawled. nets leaning in the corner. Posters of beetles and ants taped crookedly on the walls. pugsley dropped his bag on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed like he’d done it a hundred times before. his room was so, tidy. what a neat freak, he smiled to himself. he sat there in silence, still taking everything in. he had his eyes on a small jar of crawlers, yum.
“Soo,” Eugene spun once in his desk chair, breaking the silence. “what do you wanna do first? We could go bug hunting.—“ he paused, “or I could show you my new centipede.”
“ you got a new one? ” pugsley shot up, fixing his posture with a grin, “Yeah. He’s huge. Like… bigger than my hand. ” Eugene stretched his fingers wide. the thought of it made pugsley shiver. In a good way “Does it bite?” Pugsley asked—Eugene blinked, “Of course it bites.”
the way eugene said it caused him to laugh, though it wasn’t noticeable.
they talked in circles for a while, it was pleasant, considering they were apart for almost the whole school year. Eugene spun in his chair while it squeaked, Pugsley still on the bed like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to stretch out yet. and every so often Eugene would pull a jar off the shelf and hold it up, proud, rattling off facts Pugsley didn’t really ask for, but still enjoyed. It was better than silence. it was nice hearing him talk.
at one point Eugene pressed a jar into his hands. Inside, something with too many legs crawled across the glass. Pugsley turned it over slowly, its little legs scrambling against the surface. He could feel the vibrations through the glass, soft and frantic. It made him smirk.
“ See? That’s a Jerusalem cricket. Found him last week under my shed. my moms think he’s disgusting, as usual .” He trailed off, “ but look at him. he’s awesome .” he continued shortly
Pugsley squinted at the insect, tilting it so the light hit its back. “He is.”
when Eugene took the jar back and set it on the shelf, their shoulders brushed for half a second. neither of them said anything.
but the air thickened,
it wasn’t anything major, it was such a small gesture. so why did he feel his chest swell? pugsley shook the thought of, trying to resort his headspace to normal, or, what he considered normal.
the hours slipped until the sun outside was dimming, and Eugene’s moms eventually yelled up the stairs that dinner was ready.
thank goodness, he was starving! a bit over exaggerate but.. who cares. the table was set with food Pugsley wasn’t used to. colorful, fresh, not a speck of dust in sight. his family meals were usually quieter, sharper. yet here it was noisy, warm, filled with casual questions he didn’t always know how to answer. he was hungry but he continually picked at his plate, it was nothing like his favorite mystery meet sandwich. instead it was so bland? don’t get him wrong, it was nicely set, but the food didn’t look appetizing.
he smiled and joined into conversations, just to distract everyone else from the food he’s been stashing in his napkin. he was still hungry though so he shot a question, “do you guys have any rodents?” he spoke, the table went quiet, eugene on the other side of the table just sighed. he looked so disappointed. his moms blinked, switching glances towards pugsley, then to each other.
”no dear, sorry.” they shared worried glances once more. pugsley couldn’t help but feel left out again, unsure of how he would spend a summer here if this is all they served, he stood up with his plate and napkins. “oh, well. thank you for the food mrs. ottingers.!” he just assumed they’d share a last name, he never got to learn their first names anyway.
soon after pugsley got up, eugene followed. now they both stood in the kitchen. “you can’t ask that kind of stuff at the table” he mumbled, stepping closer to pugsley. he pressed his lips together, breathing deeply through his nose. pugsley was disappointed with himself. eugene noticed the change in demeanor and placed his hand on his shoulder. “i know you didn’t eat, we can go hunting in the yard and get you snacks, alright?” pugsley’s eyes lit up, he smiled and nodded excitedly. that was such a relief.
eventually, they ended up outside, the grass damp against their backs. fireflies blinked slow above them. Eugene caught one in his hands and opened his palms to let the yellow light spill out.
”do you find these appetizing? ” he asked, “i guess, but i don’t like how they stain my tongue with their neon color” he winced at the thought. eugene huffed a laugh. “alright maybe we’ll find more in the grass, yea?” pugsley cracked a tiny smile and agreed
he let the firefly go and rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand as he searched the ground. pugsley kept his eyes on the ground, then towards the sky the faint outline of stars slowly appearing as their eyes adjusted to the light. it was strange, how easy it felt already. School had been messy, family life even messier, but here it was simple. bugs, grass, a friend who didn’t look at him like he was too much, anymore.
“hey look! i got a cricket” pugsleys eyes shot towards his hands, immediately grabbing his hands and pulled them to his mouth. he forgot to let go, eugene’s eyebrows furrowed as he squinted his eyes. “ehh..” he mumbled in disgust, pugsleys germ filled mouth covered his palm, eating.
when pugsley realized he quickly arranged his position, still chewing, but he released his hands “sorry” he muttered, now using his tongue to scoop any leftovers in the corner of his mouth. “it’s alright” eugene scrubbed his hands against the ground, hoping the damp grass acted like a sanitizer.
after the tension resolved silently, everything went smoothly. there was no more chaos now, no awkward dinner table silence, or scuffles in the dirt, no buzzing from cicadas that felt deafening. everything had finally sunk into a strange stillness, the kind that makes you hear your own breath whether you want to or not. it wasn’t peace exactly, just a pause. a moment where nothing seemed to move.
or at least they thought so.
past the yard, beyond the wild patch of weeds that hadn’t been cut in years, there was a break in the tree line. and through it, the roof of some building leaned into view, broken and skeletal against the moonlight. the tin was warped, edges jagged, catching the silver glow like a blade. it didn’t belong here. not with the rest of the quiet. not with the clean slice of stars overhead.
pugsley’s eyes landed on it and stayed there, caught before he could even think about looking away. he didn’t mean to stare, but there was something about that crooked roofline that pressed into the back of his head and sat there, heavy, like it was waiting for him to remember something he didn’t know yet.
eugene’s voice kept floating through the night air, low and steady, something about the bees or the soil. pugsley wasn’t listening. he was still nodding along absently, like a puppet keeping rhythm to the sound, but his mind had drifted somewhere else entirely.
the silence between his words stretched thin, pulled tight until it nearly snapped. five full minutes ticked by in the summer dark. only one of them was really speaking, the other lost in orbit around that rusted roof.
finally, when it became too much to hold in, pugsley blurted out, sharp and sudden—“what is that place?”
his tone wasn’t casual, though he tried to make it sound that way. it came out edged, almost demanding. like the question had been chewing him up inside and clawed its way out. eugene turned his head slow, puzzled. his brow furrowed as though he was confused by the shift, then he followed pugsley’s stare, eyes sliding toward the tree line where the roof just barely showed.
“ah,” he exhaled, almost too soft, like the word alone carried a weight he didn’t want to put down. “that’s abandoned territory. neighbors packed up years ago. no one’s been inside since.” the way he said it, measured, clipped, almost rehearsed, didn’t ease pugsley. if anything, it sparked something restless. his grin spread across his face too fast, something reckless flickering in his chest. “can we go?” he shot back, quick as lightning, no hesitation. he grabbed at eugene’s arm without waiting for permission, already half rising from where he’d been sitting, body buzzing with excitement he couldn’t choke down. the idea of that broken roof and its mystery had already rooted into him, too deep to shake.
eugene’s sigh came heavy. long. it wasn’t just annoyance, it was something else. like he was letting out more than breath, like he was weighing all the reasons not to say yes and still knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold pugsley back if he really tried. the night seemed to lean in around them then, thicker and tighter. the trees rustled like they’d overheard the question.
his sigh lingered in the air longer than it should have. it carried weight, like he already knew where this was going and wanted to stop it before it began. but pugsley’s grip on his arm was stubborn, insistent, his grin too alive to smother. there was no pulling him back once his mind had latched onto something.“you’re serious?” eugene muttered finally, eyes narrowing. not really a question.
pugsley nodded quick, too quick, his hand still tugging as if sheer force might make the decision for them both. the excitement glowed in him like sparks trying to set fire to something. another long breath from eugene. then he stood, slow, shoulders stiff as though the air itself was heavier now. “alright. but you keep close. no wandering.” the words sounded like an order but felt more like a warning.
pugsley was already bouncing ahead, practically dragging him toward the treeline. the yard gave way to the woods fast, the grass underfoot swallowed by roots and damp earth. the night air shifted the deeper they went. it smelled older here, thicker with pine and rot. the building grew out of the dark the way bones push out of dirt. the roofline was sharper up close, bent in strange angles where time had bitten through it. walls sagged, half-covered in ivy that clung too tight, like it was trying to choke whatever was left inside.
“creepy,” pugsley breathed, though his smile only widened. eugene said nothing. his flashlight beam cut across the doorway, catching the dust swirling in the air. he stepped in first, slow and cautious, waiting for the floorboards to groan before trusting them with his weight. pugsley followed close, eyes darting everywhere, soaking in the ruin like it was treasure.
the inside was colder than outside. stale. each breath stirred up motes of dust that sparkled when the light found them. broken furniture leaned in corners, glass shattered across the floor in glittering shards. pugsley kicked one absentmindedly, the sound sharp in the quiet. then, near the far wall, half hidden under a fallen shelf, something glimmered faintly. not glass, not metal. something smoother, darker. a bottle maybe. its surface caught the light strangely, reflecting colors that didn’t belong here.
pugsley’s steps slowed as his eyes flicked toward it, curiosity pulling at him, but eugene’s voice cut sharp through the silence. “stay close.” he tore his gaze away quick, pretending he hadn’t noticed. still, the image of it pressed into the back of his mind, nagging the way the roof had under the moonlight. the floor creaked again as they moved further in, the whole house humming faintly, like it was holding its breath for them.
they moved through the wreckage like explorers tracing steps no one had taken in years. the walls leaned at uneasy angles, wallpaper peeling in strips that curled like old skin. a draft slipped through unseen cracks, carrying the faint smell of mildew and something bitter, something sharp enough to sting the back of the throat.
pugsley kept close behind eugene, like he had promised, though his eyes betrayed him. they kept sliding back toward the far wall. toward the half-collapsed shelf where that strange bottle still waited.
eugene’s flashlight swept across broken beams, then a collapsed chair, then the remnants of a desk that looked scorched at the edges. his attention was fixed on clearing a safe path, checking for rotten wood, watching the floor with a carefulness that came from experience. he didn’t notice how pugsley lingered a step behind.
pugsley crouched low, heart quick, and brushed away the splintered wood with his hand. the bottle was heavier than it looked, its glass cool even in the stuffy air. when he tilted it, the liquid inside shifted sluggishly, not water, not anything he could name. the way it caught the light made his stomach tighten. he glanced up. eugene’s beam was pointed the other way, catching cobwebs along the rafters.
pugsley shoved the bottle into his jacket pocket fast, clumsy, the shape awkward but hidden enough. his pulse pounded in his ears like he had just done something far worse than picking up a piece of glass. then, “you good?” eugene’s voice carried back, even, steady. pugsley jerked his head up, forcing a grin he didn’t quite feel. “yeah. yeah, fine.” eugene gave him a look over his shoulder, suspicious but not enough to press. then he turned back, stepping carefully into another room.
pugsley exhaled, long and shaky, hand pressing briefly against the bulge in his pocket just to reassure himself it was really there. the bottle felt heavier now, heavier than it had any right to. as they pressed further inside, the house seemed to shift with them. boards groaned like voices, shadows bent around corners in ways that made it hard to tell what was empty and what wasn’t. and all the while, the bottle stayed hidden against his side, every step making him more aware of it.
the air quickened the deeper they moved, layers of dust pressing down like another ceiling. eugene’s light carved a path ahead, the beam sharp against webs that clung to every corner. he leaned closer at one, studying the weave with an intensity only he could bring to something most people would swat away.
“orb weaver,” he murmured, voice low but tinged with fascination. “look at the span on it. untouched for years, maybe. no one disturbed it.” pugsley tilted his head, squinting. “all i see is spider snot. eugene huffed, the closest thing to a laugh he’d allow right now, and brushed at the side of the wall carefully, making sure not to damage the web. “not snot. silk. stronger than steel, if you knew how to use it.”
pugsley smirked but said nothing more. his hand rested against his jacket pocket, feeling the weight there like a second heartbeat. he hoped eugene didn’t notice how he hovered back, how distracted he was. they pressed further, stepping over broken tiles and what looked like the remains of a bird nest scattered across the floor. the flashlight beam caught another movement near the ceiling—a cluster of daddy longlegs huddled in the corner, their thin legs twitching faintly.“neighbors,” eugene muttered with a sort of reverence. pugsley glanced up, grin crooked. “you gonna name them too?”
“maybe,” eugene shot back without missing a beat, scanning the ceiling like he was memorizing it. the banter felt small and sharp, like sparks against the uneasy quiet. it helped, even if the house still felt like it was listening.
pugsley’s eyes drifted again, this time to a cracked dresser near the wall. one drawer hung halfway open, something pale poking out. he tugged it, wood shrieking against wood, and revealed a stack of old clothes, stiff with age. he laughed under his breath, holding up a moth-eaten shirt. “think it’ll fit me?”
“don’t,” eugene said flat, almost sharp. pugsley dropped it back quick, smirk faltering. the bottle in his pocket shifted when he moved, liquid rolling inside with a sound too soft for eugene to hear. pugsley pressed his hand against it again, not sure if he wanted to reassure himself or just stop it from giving him away. as they moved toward the last room, the floor groaned louder, walls bending in like the house was trying to close its jaw.
“five more minutes,” eugene said finally, tone more final than casual. “then we’re out.” pugsley nodded, though the restless energy in his grin suggested he would have stayed hours if he could. all the while, the love potion pressed against his side, silent and waiting.
the last room opened up wider than the others, the remains of a kitchen, maybe. counters sagged under years of rot, and a broken stove sat in the corner, its door hanging open like a crooked mouth. eugene swept the flashlight across the space, checking for movement, but nothing stirred except a couple moths drawn to the beam.
“nothing here,” he muttered, voice echoing off the cracked tile. pugsley kicked at a rusted pot near his shoe, the clang sharp in the silence. “lame,” he sighed, though there was still that grin hanging on his mouth, like just being here was enough to thrill him. eugene rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. he gave the room one last look, then lowered the flashlight. “alright. that’s it. we’re heading back.” their footsteps carried them out slower than they came in, the house groaning under the shift of weight as though relieved to see them go. the night air outside felt fresher, cooler, as soon as they stepped past the doorway. it was almost too bright after the heavy dark inside, the moon pulling the world into shape again.
they walked in silence, the woods pressing close around them. cicadas hummed low, leaves whispered overhead. pugsley shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets, rocking a little on his heels as they went. after a while, his voice broke the quiet
“so… don’t be mad, okay?”
eugene glanced at him sharp. “why would i be mad?” pugsley hesitated, then pulled one hand out slowly, fingers brushing against the bulge in his pocket but not pulling it free. “i, uh. might’ve taken something. just a little thing. nothing big.” the look eugene gave him was long and heavy, the kind that made the night feel colder for a moment. pugsley’s grin twitched wider, nervous but unrepentant. “souvenir,” he added, like that explained everything.
eugene’s sigh cut through the air again, tired and edged. but he didn’t say anything more. he just shook his head, muttering under his breath, and kept walking. pugsley shoved the bottle deeper into his pocket, the weight of it sitting warm against his side. he didn’t mention what it was, or how strange it had looked in the light. he just smiled to himself in the dark and followed.
the walk back stretched longer than it should have, every step carrying that silence between them. pugsley’s grin came and went, fading whenever eugene’s flashlight beam passed too close to him. the bottle pressed against his ribs like it wanted to be noticed.
by the time they reached the edge of the yard again, the house looked almost welcoming, a square of shadow against the silverlit grass. pugsley bolted up the steps first, eager, restless, waiting for eugene to unlock the door. once inside, the air felt warmer, softer, though it didn’t stop the tension trailing in behind them. eugene set the flashlight down on the table, running a hand through his hair. “so,” he said, his tone flat, “what exactly did you take?”
pugsley hesitated for half a beat, then pulled the bottle out of his pocket with a flourish, holding it up in the dim light like it was treasure. the glass caught the glow strangely, the liquid inside shifting thick and slow. colors rippled across it that didn’t make sense, sliding from deep red to pale gold when the angle changed. “this,” he said, smiling wide. “pretty cool, right?” eugene’s expression hardened. he stepped closer, eyeing it like it might bite. “where was that?”
“under the shelf. just sitting there. nobody wanted it.” pugsley shrugged, shaking it gently so the liquid swirled. “figured it was better off with me.”eugene’s hand twitched like he wanted to snatch it away, but he stopped himself. “you don’t even know what it is.” he exclaimed, “that’s the fun part.” pugsley plunked it down on the table between them. the glass rang dully against the wood. he leaned forward, chin propped in his hands, eyes shining with that reckless curiosity he always carried.
eugene stayed standing, arms crossed now, gaze fixed on the bottle. “old glass, strange liquid, abandoned for years… yeah, that screams fun.” pugsley grinned wider. “c’mon. aren’t you curious at all?”the liquid shimmered faintly as if it had heard him, catching the light in colors neither of them could name. eugene didn’t answer right away. he just kept staring at it, jaw tight, like the longer he looked the less sure he was.
pugsley tapped the glass with one finger, soft. “bet it’s just some weird… moonshine or something. or cough syrup.” the silence stretched again, heavier now. finally, eugene muttered, “whatever it is, don’t drink it.” “wasn’t gonna.” pugsley smirked, though the way he said it made it sound like a dare. the bottle sat between them on the table, humming with a quiet presence neither of them named, waiting.
the bottle sat between them for a long while, almost daring either of them to make the next move. pugsley leaned closer every few seconds, tilting his head this way and that to watch the liquid shift colors. eugene didn’t budge. he stayed standing, arms folded, as if his stillness alone could hold the line. then—“you’re really not even a little curious?” pugsley asked finally, raising a brow. eugene let out something between a laugh and a groan. “curiosity doesn’t mean stupidity.” he reached out, slid the bottle toward the far edge of the table, and set it down with a little more force than necessary. “we don’t know what it is. it stays there.”
pugsley’s grin twitched, crooked but alive. “sooo… you’re curious.” eugene gave him a look sharp enough to cut the air. “fine, fine,” pugsley muttered, flopping back into his chair. “i won’t touch it.” he crossed his fingers behind his back, where eugene couldn’t see. the silence stretched again, but this time it felt thinner, not so suffocating. the house groaned once as it settled, the wind picking up outside. pugsleys eyes wandered around the kitchen, restless. “so do you just… live out here with your bugs all the time?”
“critters,” eugene corrected instantly. “and yes.” pugsley nodded in response “don’t you get bored?” eugene shrugged, grabbed a jar from the counter, and checked the lid before setting it back down. “no. they keep me busy. bees, spiders, beetles… they don’t stop. neither do i.” pugsley smirked. “sounds lonely.”
the words landed heavier than he meant, but eugene didn’t flinch. he just straightened the jar, eyes steady. “better than chaotic.”
pugsley drummed his fingers against the table, then leaned forward with a grin. “chaotic can be fun.” he smiled, “chaotic gets people hurt, and you should know that” eugene’s voice sharpened, but only for a second. the bottle glimmered faintly between them, like it had caught that tension and wanted to hold onto it.
pugsley tapped it with one nail. “you think this thing’s dangerous?” He questioned, slowly regretting to ask, “everything abandoned is dangerous,” eugene said without looking at it. pugsley chewed on that answer a moment, then smirked again. “maybe it’s magic.” eugene finally looked at him then, his expression flat, tired. “magic isn’t real.” pugsley tilted his head, grin never fading. “neither are critters. until you name ’em. that earned him a sharp exhale through the nose, almost a laugh. almost.the night crept deeper around them. pugsley stretched out his legs under the table, his heel tapping lightly against eugene’s boot before he realized it. he froze a second, waiting for a reaction, but eugene didn’t move. just stared at the bottle again, his eyes caught despite himself.
to break the silence, pugsley said, “so what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever found? bug-wise.” “a tarantula hawk wasp dragging a spider across my yard,” eugene said without hesitation. “looked like a horror movie. they paralyze them, then lay eggs inside.” pugsley blinked, then grinned wider. “that’s metal. i wanna see one.” “you don’t,” eugene muttered, but there was a flicker of amusement under the weariness.
they fell into talking then—half serious, half teasing. about spiders in the rafters, about the time pugsley once put a frog in someone’s shoe back home, about how eugene had nearly been grounded for breeding beetles in his closet when he was younger. the conversation wove in and out, light in some places, heavier in others, the bottle always glinting in the corner of their eyes like it wanted to interrupt but never did. eventually, pugsley slumped forward, cheek against the table. “you know… it’s not so bad here. kinda weird, kinda quiet. but not bad.”
eugene looked at him for a long moment. “you’re not staying.” pugsleys grin slipped, but only for a heartbeat. “you don’t know that.” the bottle shimmered again in the low light, silent, patient.outside, the cicadas quieted. the house creaked once, then went still. and inside, the two of them sat across from each other, the weight of something unknown resting between them on the table, waiting for a night when they’d finally dare to touch it.
But that wouldn’t stop pugsley, nor stop his curiousity,