Dick chose to drive Spence to their house instead of back downtown, thinking he needed rest, and a real introduction to their lifestyle. He was quietly staring out the window, watching the trees and houses pass, blinking slowly like a cat as he breathed deep in his sleepiness. Dick was watching him in the rearview mirror, which caused him to lose track of the road at points--when he swerved, Spence would blink himself awake and sit up straight only to slouch again.

“So, Spence, now that you’re on our team, you need one of our crazy powerful, super-cool wristbands,” Dick said. Spence tuned in again, but not entirely, as his eyes were still half-closed.

“I’m on your team?” he said.

“Well, yeah, of course. Ted told me I had to ‘take good care of you.’ I can’t just leave you alone in a room full of barbaric criminal masterminds,” Dick replied. Spence looked away from the seat in front of him, shrugging his shoulders. Viktor took a rubber bracelet from his pocket, labeled with the logo of a metal band. He put it around Spence’s wrist next to the ones he already had.

Spence squinted in the dark to read it. “Cotton Club,” he said. “You guys listen to Cotton Club?”

“Yeah. We all have matching ones. And Curtis Morgue, Basic Chicks Eat Astrology, Bleeding Kansas, Red Medicine County, Black Dog Castle, etcetera etcetera,” Dick said.

Spence’s eyes finally lit up. “I love Curtis Morgue,” he said. “You must watch Slow Torture then, too?”

“You know it.”

Franky turned around and grinned at Spence. “I want Mr. Denial to father my children,” he said. Spence’s expression faltered again.

“Right…and what’s your name again?” he asked.

“I’m Franky, and by the way, I have got to tell you you are one beautiful specimen. I think you might be the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life. You don’t look much different than you did when you were a kid, except you’re like, a thousand feet tall now. I don’t know if you noticed me, but I was in your study hall in eighth grade (you were in seventh grade) and when I was done with my work I would stare at you…”

Franky continued rambling as Spence took notice of Viktor, who was in the backseat next to him. He was fiddling with the loose joints on his fingers when he noticed Spence had held his hand to him, waiting for him to shake it. He was surprised Spence would want to touch him, considering he already willingly sat next to him and probably smelled his rotting flesh the whole time. But he smiled shyly and shook his hand anyway, tensing his shoulders awkwardly.

“What’s your name?” Spence asked.

“Viktor Manson. Franky's my cousin.”

“Right. I think my friend Ryan was in your class. He talked about you sometimes, if I recall correctly…”

“Ryan Pickman? He talked to me about games in Physics.”

Viktor smiled to himself thinking about the cute boy he used to know back when he was allowed to go to school. And then he realized that Spence didn’t ask him about his burnt face or exposed skeleton, but he reminded him instead of something better, and that made his dead heart feel warm again.

When they got home, Dick whistled and gestured for Spence to follow him upstairs instead of sitting down with Viktor to listen to him ramble about seasonal video game content. He started searching for something in his room, mumbling to himself while Spence analyzed his new bracelet and the decorations Dick chose. While the walls were white, the room almost seemed completely blackened by edgy posters and photos. There was no more space besides the ceiling, and that made up for the lack of accessories and furniture. He assumed his father was much too busy to care for his kid, and Dick obviously wasn’t going to spend his hard-earned money on anything practical.

But then he found it--a bat pierced with nails and sharp metal that was deep beneath his bed--and he presented it to Spence. “You need something to protect yourself with, and we already have all the knives and guns,” he said. “You don’t seem like the fighting type either. You might be tall but that doesn’t keep you from having arms the width of spaghetti noodles.”

Spence opened his mouth, wanting to argue back, but he took the bat in his hands and observed its surface. It looked like it had been hastily made, but it didn’t seem to be used at all. “Why do you have this?” he asked.

“Franky and I made it. We used to play a lot of baseball as kids but when we got a little older we found other uses for it. Not to kill anyone or anything, but now that’s your responsibility.”

Spence held it at his side, for once feeling like he had a little bit of power. And if Dick could stab and shoot something, then it was up to him to do the beating, and he liked having that job. “Thanks,” he said. “Let me guess, it was your dad that turned you into a violent criminal?”

“That’s yet to come. But don’t get me wrong, it will happen. Why’d you join, anyway? Were you just embarrassed? You don’t seem like that type of person at all. I was never the worst person, but you’re the one serving food all day and all night and saving the town from going hungry. And having car issues.”

“I don’t know. There’s about nothing for me to lose if I get in trouble. Or die. It’s kinda cool to work under a literal demon anyway. Thanks for this.”

Spence waved the bat around, getting used to its weight and length. Dick shrugged.

“Just trying to help.”