"theres a lady who knows
all that glitters is gold . . ."
in which a wannabe hero leaves the safety of her own life to help a girl
with a very strange problem.
...
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"GAR, WILL YOU P-P-PLEASE GET-GET OUT OF THE COFFIN?"
DJ had never in a million years imagined that those words would ever come out of her mouth, but there they were - hissed out desperately before anyone could glance over and see the audacious teenager trying out coffins.
"I'm trying to find the comfiest one!" The green haired boy said in defense of himself, only sitting up in the cushion-lined mahogany box instead of climbing out like she requested.
"Why?" DJ asked exasperatingly, looking over her shoulder to make sure that the salesman was occupied with another customer.
"Do you want Jason to spend the rest of eternity in some torture contraption?" Gar argued, still seated firmly in the coffin.
"He's got a point, Songbird." Conner threw in. DJ spun around to ask him why he would think lying in coffins was a good idea - only to see that he was also reclined back in a different one.
DJ sighed in frustration. "Look, will y-you-you two just get out of th-the coffins? It looks weird."
Gar hummed and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at her. "You know, you shouldn't care so much about what other people think of you."
With another huff of annoyance, DJ placed her hands on her hips and glared with what could only be described as a mom stare. She glowered to no avail; they seemed to have lost their sense of fear when it came to DJ - something that would have to be fixed.
Conner, displaying an example of this dangerous and misplaced bravery, added on, "He's right, you can't let your insecurities get in the way of making sure Jason is comfortable."
"Will you both please just g-get out of-of the fucking coffins!" DJ finally snapped, keeping her voice at just above a whisper so as to not alert anyone around them.
Both pairs of eyes widened in (finally) concern for their own personal safety; they both scrambled out of the coffins and back onto the carpeted floor just as the salesman made his way back to the trio.
"Find anything you like?" He asked in the same soft, mournful voice he had been speaking on since the three teens had made their way in twenty minutes ago. He had, at first, looked at them like they were just annoying kids coming in to his shop for some edgy teen bullshit, presumably because they had come straight from Bat Burger and all had to-go boxes in their clutches; until, that is, he took an actual look at the oldest of the group and the sorrowful look in her eyes. Then he switched into his bed-side manner and asked them if they needed help on finding anything 'to suit the comfort and need of your dearly departed', as he put it.
Frankly, DJ didn't fully understand why Jason had to be uncomfortable, nor did she think he had needs anymore - but Conner and Gar had convinced her that she should put some thought into it. Just like they had convinced her to start planning Jason's funeral as soon as possible - since the very idea of his body just sitting in some confined metal drawer at the GCPD morgue made her physically nauseous. Also because the sooner she could say goodbye to him, the sooner she would get 'closure' or whatever; DJ personally doubted this, as closure wasn't something you just got when the love of your life was brutally murdered.
