Notes: Next Killjoy ficlet, based on something I saw on tumblr. Tomorrow I hope to have a proper fic done. I'm hoping to get this all wrapped up soon too. Thanks to katiexrawr for helping me choose a name.
"Ah that's a good question little one." Party Poison smiled, crouching down beside the little girl with the curly hair. "This is a mailbox. People used to put in letters, pieces of paper with writing on it, inside to send to people they knew." The box, almost as tall as the girl was covered in graffiti. "This one, however is special."
"It is?" The girl looked at the red head, curiousity flicking through her eyes. "How?"
"This mailbox is for those that aren't here anymore." He smiled at her a litte. "We put in messages to people that are gone."
"To let them know how we are. To give them messages we can't otherwise. Sometimes it helps to write our feelings down and send them to those which we love. Whatever we put in here, the messages will find their way to whoeer it is we've lost, no matter where they may be."
"Have you used it?"
"Of course." He gave the kid a small smile, then tapped it's metal side. "Maybe you could try it?"
She nodded, and headed inside. Even though she had no memory, she knew who she was going to write to.
Out of all of the Killjoys, three had sent messages. Fun Ghoul thought it was pointless. He had no use for such things, though he'd never tell Poison that.
Kobra sent a letter once a year, every year. It was outwardly unmarked and taped securely so it couldn't be opened from the outside easily. He always made sure no one would see what as inside, even taking to locking himself somewhere if he was able so he could write in private.
Poison used it regularly, sending letters pretty much whenever they were near it. The whole thing had been his idea after all and he'd spread it to as many zonerunners as he could. He had no idea how many actually used it, but he hoped some followed his lead,. To him, it did help.
Jet, on the other hand, had only used it once before now.
It had been his early days as a Killjoy, days after Poison had come up with the idea. Instead of writing a letter to someone that had died, he wrote one to someone that had never even existed. The letter was marked Grace/Marcus and was sent to the child that he had never had, but had been so close to having.
He'd ended that note with the hope that maybe, someday, that child would exist and he'd have the family they'd always planned.
The second time he used it was years later, six months after seeing the man he loved sacrifice himself so he could live. He'd resisted doing this for so long because he'd told himself that doing so was a sign of letting go. He took a deep breath, then slid the letter into the mailbox, letting it join the others within, before closing his eyes and leaving it behind.
Grace's letter, which she pushed in a few hours after beiing told what the mailbox was, was for her mother. She was a person she never knew, had never even seen but she knew she existed. To her, her mother was truly lot. She hoped to meet her one day, if she even existed.
But Poison was right. It did help.