Reuben’s Billiards Grape420

Rose got out of an Uber outside Reuben’s and stared up at the sign. The fever still clung to her, the hunger hadn’t dissipated, and she was still getting dizzy spells and mood swings. Clearly, whatever was happening to her — if she really was turning into a shifter thing — wasn’t going away anytime soon.

As she stepped inside the establishment, Rose kept her eyes peeled for someone matching the description she’d read online. It was busy, but she looked around, not bothering to sit down. It didn’t take her long to locate a short-haired woman with a nose ring who seemed to work there, and she tentatively approached.

“Hi, uh. Are you… um…” What was the username? “Grape… something?”

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This thing happened when Grace sniffed out the promise of money. The more potential she had to make money, she more money she wanted. Didn't even know what she wanted to do with it, except hold cash in her hands and fucking breathe it in.

The result was putting in effort at work, at least in how she looked. Washing her fuckin' hair. Skirt life. A little cat eye. Meyowww, baby, throw an extra motherfucking dollar in.

She was about to swing back to grab a few drinks when she heard a tentative greeting. Turned, brows up. Older looking white lady, looking for graaa... pe? Oh, shit.

"Yo," she said, "I'm glad you showed. Lemme get you a table and get my ass on break here in like ten, cool?"

She confirmed she was Grape something, and Rose nodded, relieved that she didn’t have to explain more about the situation than necessary. At least, not yet. She was sure the young woman would probably have lots of questions for her. God, was she really seeking out the help from someone probably half her age? Then again, young people were sometimes wiser than those who’d been on the earth for longer. She clearly knew more about this shit than Rosemarie did.

“Yeah, okay, um, thank you,” She said, uncharacteristically quiet, and followed this complete stranger towards a table. Really felt out of her wheelhouse. Didn’t help that she was having consistent hot flashes.

As she slid into a chair, Rose stole a moment to gather her thoughts while her internet friend got back to work. This entire situation was just crazy. Just completely insane. Rose tapped her hands against her knees nervously and peered around her, taking in the many different folk there that evening. All people who, likely, didn’t have to deal with bullshit like this.

Somebody was nervous, though Grace couldn't knock her. If she got scratched up dog fever, she'd be shitting her fucking pants. Leading the chick to a table, she was off, dropping by wordlessly to leave a glass of water before finishing her rounds.

This was weird, stressful shit. If she could un-turn this woman. If they all could. How the fuck did it work? Did they form a circle around her like the victim of some TV witches? Did they all have to touch her? Grace was in the dark for this shit.

About twelve minutes later, she was back with two plastic baskets of mozzarella sticks with half-lidded cups of sauce, plus a glass of bubbling soda for herself. Slid her ass to the seat across from the woman.

"I'm Grace. Tell me everything."

Rose thanked the woman for the glass of water and took a huge sip of it. Practically finished it by the time the woman returned, this time with food. Oh God. Food. Rose wanted to lunge for it and devour it all but yes, first, she needed to tell her story. To Grace. Nice name for a hopefully nice person.

“Grace, I’m Rosemarie.” Didn’t hold out her hand to shake or anything. Didn’t want to risk infecting someone else, assuming she was contagious. Oh, fuck. She was probably contagious. Shit.

“Well. I was at Spookyfest or whatever, in their, uh, Tunnel of Terror. Ran into a raccoon and the thing bit my hand.” She held out her left hand where the bite mark had mostly faded at this point. She was fairly certain it wasn’t even going to leave a scar. “I ran away soon after and when I came out of the tunnel, there was blood all over my hand but the wound had, uh, healed. Then the last few days I’ve just been feverish, dizzy, moody and really fucking hungry,” She laughed. It was a derisive sound. “I went to the hospital thinking I had rabies or something but both doctors told me I was — am — turning into a, uh, were-person. The one doctor even told me she was one? Or something?” Big breath. “I left, tried to sleep things off, and then posted online. The rest is history.”

Fuck.

Attacked in a dark tunnel by a raccoon at Spookyfest. That was some fucked up shit. Grace dunked a mozzarella stick into marinara as she listened, because this was also her lunch break and all that. But she was no less attentive, chewing at a quicker pace as her brain worked.

A fucking shifter doctor was gross. Grace hated the idea. Hated that someone might just be, oops, accidentally turning people along the way or some shit. Her expression was almost a scowl by the end.

Rosemarie, huh. An older lady who did not look like she'd have a good time as a raccoon.

"First off, that fucking sucks," she acknowledged. "I know some shifters who you could connect with or whatever. If worst comes to worst. But I just saw on the news or whatever- that article I posted. I'm a psychic and I'm in a pact, which is just a group of psychics, pretty much. So in theory we might be able to undo this shit. I've never done it, and I don't know how it works, and it might be fucking awful or not work at all. But if you're down for some strangers to do some weird magic shit on you, it might be possible."

Didn't want to get Rosemarie's hopes up. And she had no fucking clue how to do this. But it felt important to give it a shot if they had a willing normie to try.

It did fucking suck. Thank you Grace, for saying it aloud.

Apparently, Grace knew of more shifters to connect with, if Rosemarie needed to, which hopefully she didn’t. She had mentioned she was in a pact with other psychics, but it was good to know what that meant exactly, even if Rose was still a little unclear on what a psychic was, per se. It involved magic? Which just made her head spin thinking about it.

It was difficult to go your whole life believing magic was just the stuff of fairytales to suddenly learn it existed. Her beliefs had been more than challenged this week. They’d been demolished entirely. And yet, still, there was that doubt. Doubt that it was all a bad dream or a tangled, overly complicated conspiracy.

Rose drew a small breath in and reached for what she assumed was her basket of mozzarella sticks. Needed a moment just to think. And nom. She chewed on a mozzarella stick, then took another sip of what was left of her water.

“I think… I think I might be down to try that.” Rose had to try something, right? Even if it sounded batshit crazy to think magic could help cure a supposedly incurable and possibly contagious virus.

It wasn't leaping into it. Part of Grace wanted insane enthusiasm. Another part of her was thankful that Rosemarie wasn't putting every bit of her heart and soul into this.

"Cool," she said. Thinking. Had to get Rika and Vanessa in on this. They would be. Poor V probably hadn't even grown her fucking hair back from last time.

"It'll be me and two other chicks my age. We're all good as psychic shit. But. Like- group stuff, like making a pact in the first place. It's really exhausting. Feels super shitty."

She considered if it was worth saying the next bit. Had to be. Felt essential for Rosemarie to know the stakes.

"Some people have died doing it. I don't know if it's the same for this. So I want to make it clear that it could be dangerous, or it could be nothing. I have no idea. I think we got a couple weeks to the full moon, so you have time, but."

Grace shrugged.

"It's up to you. No wrong answer or whatever."

She felt there was, but she knew better than to put it on a stranger.

Rose listened carefully as Grace explained the stakes of such a feat. It sounded incredibly challenging and definitely dangerous. She didn’t really know why they only had until the full moon but that was a question she could ask later.

“So, you could die just by trying to help me out?”

If that was the case, it was a BIG ask of someone, let alone a complete stranger. Rosemarie wasn’t sure she could put someone else’s life at risk, especially someone so young. This woman had her whole damn life ahead of her.

It sounded that way, huh. And Grace might have meant it that way if she was with a bunch of rookies. They had it by now, she was certain. Knew their limits.

This woman, though. Older.

"I think we know our shit well enough to come out okay. But, uhhhhh."

She dunked limp cheese in marinara. Stared at it.

"I dunno if you will. I think you will, but. I don't know."

Ah, so it wasn’t Grace’s life that was at stake, nor her friends’ lives. It was Rose’s life. The woman nodded in understanding. Okay, so she knew the risks. But what about the risks of actually becoming… this thing?

“Do you know much about, uh, shifters?” Rose hoped Grace would be honest. Based on their little interaction so far, she had every reason to believe the young woman wouldn’t hold back. “Like… would I become a raccoon?” When would it happen? The full moon?

Going into the topic of shifters next made sense. If anything else, it indicated to Grace that Rosemarie understood the consequences weren't laid out for show. Grace wasn't being dramatic. This was potentially real shit.

"I know a good bit," she said. "I'm ninety percent sure you'd go raccoon. I never actually asked if people are the same as whatever bit or scratched them."

She chomped the cheese stick, waved her hand in a way that implied she'd keep going after she finished chewing. And slurping Coke.

"I know they can shift over all sorts of shit. Like, turn into the animal. So if they get startled or emotional or whatever. Sometimes you can remember shit you did as an animal, sometimes not, I guess. Same with how in control you are. Sometimes you are, sometimes you aren't."

Ninety percent sure was pretty sure. Rose nodded while Grace spoke, outlining what she knew about were-people. Getting startled or emotional could have dire consequences then. Having no memory of what she did either was a bit traumatizing to ponder over. Rose didn’t even like to get blackout drunk, especially at her age, so the idea of turning into a raccoon and causing all kinds of havoc was exactly high up on her list of things she’d like to do.

Turns out control was another thing to consider when becoming a shifter. Either she had it or she didn’t. Not having control and not remembering what she had done while an animal was enough to send a shiver down her spine. Rose shuddered and shoved another mozzarella stick in her mouth to temporarily placate herself.

So this was it then. Possible death or possibly turning someone else in a state she couldn’t control, nor remember. It wasn’t a great spot to be in.

At least, maybe, the person who’d infected her, hadn’t intended to. Not that it let them off the hook. It was still shitty. Irresponsible too. But at least she understood why it might have occurred in the first place.

Rosemarie drew a sharp intake of breath and exhaled. “Okay. I think… I think I would rather risk my life trying this… magic… thing, then spend the rest of it shifting into an animal whenever I got angry.” Deep breath. She had to at least try something. Couldn’t sit and let it happen to her. Rose had to fight it.

It was happening.

Grace couldn't deny feeling a spike of adrenaline. They could do this. They could do this. They could undo this. Not just for one of their own, but for someone else who had been attacked. A fucking public service. The world didn't need more shifters, and it especially didn't need more people forced into that life through a fucking mauling.

She found herself almost short of breath, adrenaline rushing through her veins. Wanted to do this right now. Immediately. Grab Rosemarie by the arm and drag her straight to Rika's house. Pour whatever blood, sweat, and tears were necessary to do this.

Shifters and vampires could take things from people. Take identities. Take blood. Take memories. Take friends and families and freedom and self. But here Grace could slap their fucking claws away. Get something back. Give something back. She felt like her pupils were blowing out, focus momentarily lost as she surged into the future. Definitely forgot to breathe. She snapped back out of it by reaching over and slapping Rosemarie's forearm from across the table, abruptly wired.

"We fucking got this," she said. "I'm tryna be- fuckin'- I don't wanna set your hopes up too high. But I'm good at this shit. We're good at this shit, me and my pact sisters. There's still risks, but."

She ran a hand through her hair, a light sheen of sweat on her scalp.

"I don't even wanna go back to work now. Do you have- uh. Questions or anything? Next I gotta just- tell the rest of my pact. But they'll be in."

The slap to her forearm startled her but she remained seated.

We fucking got this. Words to live by, really. Words to stake hope into even if Rose should approach the whole thing with far more caution than she felt in that moment. They were going to try and that was enough for Rose. Even if it was terrifying. Even if it meant she could die. Risks were worth taking if it meant she could have some shred of normalcy back in her life. Rosemarie didn’t want to be an animal person. Didn’t want that responsibility on her shoulders. She just wanted to teach theatre, maybe start a Fringe Festival in Ridgefield. How could she do any of that if she became a fucking danger to those around her?!

She felt like crying. Shit. Rose didn’t like crying ever, let alone in public. Tears formed in her eyes and she drew another sharp intake of breath.

Did she have questions?

“Do you need me to do anything in the meantime while you reach out to them?” Was there anything she needed to prepare? Fuck. Maybe she should have a will made. In case of death, please send the contents of my bookshelf to ex-husband number two.

They were both collecting themselves. Grace lowering herself down from a high, Rosemarie lifting herself up from a low. The question was smart, and Grace didn't immediately have an answer. She smeared a cooled mozzarella stick into sauce, losing a shell of breading in the process. She fished it out and ate it first before going for the rest.

"Don't tell people what's going on with you," she decided eventually. "I know that sounds sketch. But shifters can be weird, and I don't want one getting pissed off that this is- getting undone or whatever. Once it's over, I think you're cool to share with people you trust."

How would Asha feel about un-turning? Yara?

Billy?

Don’t tell anyone. Okay. Rose could do that. Sounded a little sketchy indeed but she had to trust this young woman if she was going to get rid of this… affliction. The idea that shifters might be pissed off at her for being cured was a bit unsettling. How many were out there? How had she never given these things much thought before now?!

Maybe she’d just keep it to herself if it worked out. Hope to never run into that doctor again.

“Okay, I can do that.”

There. That was easy. Grace didn't love telling anyone to keep secrets. It felt like how shifters talked.

But it was exactly shifters who scared her. She didn't know how they'd take someone getting un-turned.

"Cool. I don't think there's anything else. We oughta trade numbers. I'm gonna get everyone in on this ayyyyy-sap. Then you'll probs come over to my girl Rika's house and we'll figure out how it all works. If you need anything in the meantime, you can hit me up whenever. I'm here to help and all that."

Last mozzarella stick into sauce. She seriously considered cutting out of work right the fuck now just to do this, but.

Money.

Okay. So this was happening.

She might die. But she also might not.

Rose nodded as Grace spoke, taking out her phone to exchange numbers when the time came for Grace to get back to work.

"Thank you. I really appreciate your help in all this." It was the honest truth. Rose's voice even broke a little as she said it. She knew it was best to not get her hopes up, just in case they couldn't help her in the end. But. She needed something to hold onto. Grace was throwing her a lifeline and Rose wasn't going to forget the gesture anytime soon.