It begins when Mobile has a vision of Wallace kissing another man late one evening. He is sitting at his desk, typing up a report for his bosses on the astral plane, when suddenly a vision swims before his eyes. He is used to this, gets them all the time, and simply rests his head in his hands while he waits for the vision to play itself out.

In his inner eye, he sees Wallace drunkenly swaying on the dance floor of a bar he does not recognize. This isn't in itself that strange, as he's had visions about Wallace before, even had ones of him drunkenly dancing—however boring those might be. What's new, however, is that Wallace is dancing with the other men.

He takes a deep breath and tells himself that he's okay with that. It's just dancing, and Wallace is drunk, and he loves Mobile and not these other random men, so he's not going to be the jealous type.

But then Wallace kisses the man he's dancing with. Not once, not a mistake, but over and over again and soon they're making out as they sway and it's everything he can do not to throw his computer against a wall.

He kicks Wallace unceremoniously out of the apartment the next morning, ignoring his protestations and arguments, and has created the "I Bet I Can Find 1,000,000 People Who Hate Wallace Wells" Facebook group by the afternoon.

***

"So the tables have turned!" Scott says victoriously when Wallace shows up at his doorstep that evening. "Now I'm the one with the apartment and the—the possessions!"

Wallace glares at him until Scott finally has the decency to look abashed and answer, "Yeah, you can stay with me."

"Thanks," Wallace says, and pushes past him into the apartment, depositing his lone bag of clothes on the floor. "It's just until I can find a place of my own."

"That's what I said to you," Scott says, grinning. Look at him, with the job, and the girlfriend, and the apartment, having it together. It's such a refreshing change of pace to turn this particular table on its head.

"Yeah, well…" Wallace trails off. "Mobile says I can get the rest of my stuff tomorrow while he's projecting."

Scott nods, then says, "I'm sorry about that, you know."

"Yeah, well, it'd just be nice to know why he ended it. He wouldn't even tell me why, Scott."

Wallace looks so dejected and miserable, so utterly unlike his usual self, that Scott sighs and asks, "You want a hug?"

"No," Wallace says, but grabs him tight, burying his face against Scott's chest for just a second longer than usual. "Thanks, Scott," he says. "I mean, you owe me for being your sugar daddy for all those years, especially since you never put out, but I appreciate this anyway."

Scott laughs, and that, at least, makes things feel a little bit more normal.

***

The next morning, Scott lets Wallace drag him out of their bed and over to Mobile's to collect his things. Scott tries not to think about it, because if he does, he'll feel bad for Wallace and then he'll hug him more and Wallace will push him off and call him a girl, and…well, it just doesn't go well when Scott tries to be sincere with Wallace, that's all.

After they leave—well, after Wallace sends him outside to wait while he finishes after Scott pokes Mobile's prone body for the fifth time just to see if he can snap him back into it—Wallace heads off to his job and Scott heads off to his.

That's boring, save for Stephen's anecdotes about the annoying shit Joseph makes him do, and then Scott heads down to Sneaky Dee's to meet Ramona and Wallace for dinner.

And everything is going fine, really, Ramona is being sweet and consoling and Wallace is actually accepting that from her, and Scott is providing the much-needed comic relief to the situation, until the door slams open and a tall man with a lanky frame and a mop of greasy red hair storms in.

"Scott Pilgrim!" he yells, and points at Scott for effect. "I believe you and I have some business to conduct."

"Is this another ex?" Scott asks, panicking. "Ramona, you said seven! I defeated seven! Us dating was contingent on me defeating seven! Is our whole relationship a lie?"

"What?" Ramona asks. "I've never seen that guy before. He's not my ex."

And that is when Wallace slams his head down against the tabletop and groans, "No, he's mine."

"What?" Scott asks. "You have an ex? Since when do you have exes?"

Wallace just stares at him until Scott says, "Oh. Right. Okay. Well, since when do your exes have business with me?"

"I don't know," Wallace sighs. "Ask the man, guy."

"Since when do you have business with me?" Scott asks the man obediently.

"Since yesterday," he answers. "It was kind of a rush job. Mobile wanted to get the ball rolling and—have you really not been apprised of the situation?"

"What situation? Wallace, what's he talking about?"

The man sighs. "I'm Gregory Manners. I'm the first representative of The League of EXtraordinary Gentlemen."

"Okay," Scott says. "What's that?"

Ramona huffs. "Copycats!"

"Huh? Will someone explain to me what's going on?"

"They're my exes," Wallace says. "My gentlemen exes. And apparently, they're after you, though I have no idea why."

"Yeah, why?" Ramona asks.

Gregory stares at them for a moment, confused, then answers, "Because…if you want to date Wallace, you have to get through us. I thought the situation was fairly self-explanatory. You have to fight us."

"But I don't want to fight you," Scott says. "You look like a total nerd." Then, after a pause, "Wait. I don't want to date Wallace, either!"

"Our intel indicates that Wallace spent the night in your bed last night," Gregory insists. "And this wasn't the first time."

"That's not gay!" Scott insists. "That's just two…platonic friends sharing a bed! Platonically!"

"You were cuddling."

"I can't help it what Wallace's gay body does to me while we're asleep," Scott insists. "It's not his fault his subconscious is attracted to me."

"You were cuddling him."

A pause, then, scandalized, Scott says, "Stop confusing the situation with your facts."

"Look, are we going to fight, or what?" Gregory sighs. "I mean, I came here all revved up with my dragon powers and—"

"Dragon powers?"

"H—has Wallace never mentioned me?" Gregory asks. "Or—or my powers? With the dragons?"

Scott turns his attention to Wallace and stares at him until Wallace finally snaps, "All right, fine. So I kind of used to be a dork. I met Gregory at a—" he flushes, just a little, and then finishes, "at a D&D meeting. Our eyes met across the table and the next thing I knew, he was cupping and rolling something other than dice in his hands, all right? It lasted three weeks."

"He broke up with me just because I started playing Magic the Gathering!" Gregory laments.

"Only losers play card-based games," Wallace answers back. "Dice-based RPGs are where it's at."

"No, I think only losers are elitist fans about what kind of pre-digital gaming is the best," Ramona mutters. "Nothing is worth playing if it doesn't require batteries."

Gregory glares at them all and then crooks his finger at Scott. "Let's do this, Pilgrim. Wallace belongs to us and you and that pink-haired digital bitch need to shut up and pay."

And that's how Scott ended up launching himself at Wallace's ex, inadvertently accepting the League's challenge for a second time, because no one calls his girlfriend a bitch and lives.

Also, this will totally make Wallace his bitch forever, and that'll be awesome.

Of course, in his anger, Scott had forgotten to wonder what dragon powers were, but he finds out when Gregory opens his mouth and a huge fucking fireball comes flying at him.

He jumps to the side, missing the flames by inches, and grabs for Gregory's knee, trying to knock him off his feet. He brushes Gregory's calf but misses the rest of it, leaving Gregory to round on him and aim a kick at Scott's chest.

He rolls up onto his feet and ducks the punch Gregory throws at him, then gropes at his chest for his sword. Nothing there, no power to tap into.

"Shit!" he yells. "I don't have the power of love!"

"So you're not in love with him yet, then?" Gregory taunts, and hurls another fireball in Scott's direction. "Pathetic."

"Wallace!" Scott yells, "Do something awesome! Make me love you!"

Wallace sighs, then half-heartedly offers, "I'll pay your bills for the next six months."

Scott considers that, then gropes at his chest. Nothing.

"Not working! Be awesomer!"

"That's not a word!" Ramona shouts, but Scott's too busy trying to land a punch around all the fire to notice.

"Yeah, Wallace," Gregory taunts. "Be better than everyone else. You've always thought you were, so just go ahead and demonstrate to Pilgrim here just how high and mighty you can be. You're such a snob!"

"I'll come to all of Shatterband's gigs for the next year," Wallace says then, "front row center. You don't need my money anymore, you just need me. So I'll support you in the way you need to be supported."

Scott freezes, beaming in Wallace's direction, and suddenly feels the rush of power thrum through him. He gropes at his chest, running his fingers across his sternum until he feels the handle pop through his skin. He grips it, pulls it from his chest, and holds the ice-blue sword out in front of him. Beside him, a sign on the wall changes to say:

Scott has earned the power of friendship!

+ 3 loyalty

+ 2 happiness

- 2 loneliness

Gregory hesitates for only a second before shooting another ball of fire at him, and on instinct, Scott whips the blade up into its path. It hits the blade and immediately turns into a ball of ice, shattering with the impact and flying in every direction.

"Ow!" Gregory yells, holding his hand over his left eye. "You got ice in my eye! I can't see! It hurts!" He continues whining until Scott advances on him, which seems to snap him out of it.

"You'll pay for this, Pilgrim!" he shouts, and launches himself at Scott. Scott turns the blade up and POW! It sinks into him and suddenly Gregory is shattering into hundreds of dice in all different sizes—a clay d12 in particular bounces off of Scott's forehead.

Scott stands there, chest heaving, for the minute and a half it takes him to calm down. Then he rounds on his companions and says, "Wallace Wells, we need to talk."

***

"All right, spill," Scott says ten minutes later when he and Wallace are sitting on his favorite swing set in the park. Ramona went home after Scott promised to call her tomorrow and Wallace promised to keep Scott more or less alive until then, so it's just the two of them out in the cold.

"I really don't know any more than you do," Wallace tells him. "All I know is, Mobile broke up with me yesterday without even telling me why and now he's gone and formed some kind of Gideon knock-off league."

"Yeah, and they're after me," Scott reminds him. "What the hell?"

"I don't know. Maybe Mobile has the wrong idea about us or something. I don't know. Anyone who knows you knows we're not fucking. You're hopelessly straight, man, Ramona or no. I tried to get you to come over to the dark side, but you didn't want my cookies."

"Then maybe tell Mobile that. Because I just got done beating the bosses on the road to rescue the princess. I don't feel like doing it again for the prince."

Wallace shrugs. "I'll try. Mobile's not big on the listening right now. Besides…" Wallace bites his lip thoughtfully, like he's trying to decide if he should speak or not. After a minute or two, he finally says, "He's psychic, you know. Mobile."

"I remember."

"I just…I'm wondering if maybe he…I mean…I like teasing you and all, but I'd never like, do anything to make you uncomfortable on purpose. You know that, right?"

"Yeah…"

"I just wonder if he's seen something. Something we haven't yet. And he's…you know, preemptively acting on it."

"What, like he's seen the two of us—"

Wallace shrugs again. "I don't know. He wouldn't speak to me. It's just weird that they'd come after you, is all. Sharing a bed and cuddling or not."

After a moment, Scott pushes himself up off the swing set and squeezes Wallace's shoulder. "Fine. I don't know what Mobile did or didn't see, I don't know why he broke up with you, and I don't know why your exes are determined to take me down. But you promised to come to Shatterband's gigs and that means something. So we'll go home, you'll make me a list of your exes I should look out for, including ways they could kill me, and tomorrow you'll try to talk some sense into Mobile."

"And if I can't get him to call them off?"

"Then I guess I need you to help me train again."

Wallace smiles at him, just a little, and nods. "Fair enough."

***

Mobile's never been the overly dramatic type, but it's been a long day of trying to keep up his work while managing the newly minted League of EXtraordinary Gentlemen, so he's not in the best mood when he opens the door and finds Wallace Wells standing on his doorstep. He promptly slams it shut, ignoring Wallace's shouts, and calls back, "Go away!"

"Mobile, come on, just talk to me, guy," Wallace says. "I deserve an explanation."

The audacity of that pisses him off, so Mobile throws the door open and glares at Wallace.

"An explanation of what?"

"For starters, why you broke up with me. Then, how about why you formed a league of my ex-boyfriends? And then, and here's the kicker: why are they coming after Scott Pilgrim of all people?"

Mobile rolls his eyes. "You really need to ask me that?"

"Apparently, yes, because I don't have the answers."

"You cheated on me," Mobile snaps. "So I don't particularly feel obliged to answer the rest."

Wallace stares at him for a long moment, then asks, "What?"

"I saw you. Psychic, remember?"

"But I didn't cheat on you," Wallace lies. "I swear I didn't. Is that what this is about? You think I—"

"I saw you."

"Mobile, I didn't—"

"Wallace, how many times do I have to remind you that I'm psychic before you you get it? I know everything you've done, are doing, and will do!"

"Then do your visions come with a time stamp? Because I don't know what you saw, but it could've been in the past, or a future that can be avoided, or—"

"It was present," Mobile sighs. "You went out to the club the other night. I saw you in the club, dancing with other guys, and then you started making out with one of them."

Wallace blinks at him. "That's it? Do you know how many times I've gone out to a club and danced with guys and-or made out with one of them? Because I've lost count. That could've been almost every single night of my adult life until you and I started going out."

"It wasn't," Mobile says, though now that Wallace says it, he feels a little uncertain. "Just—just go away, Wallace."

"Not for just that," Wallace insists. He crosses his arms across his chest and plants himself in front of the door. "And that still doesn't answer why the League is coming after Scott. Is it really just that he and I share a bed? 'Cause we've always done that and it's nothing sexual. He's straight as an arrow. Or—"

Wallace bites his lip in a way that makes Mobile want to forget this and just push him against a hard surface and attack his mouth.

"Did you…I don't know, see something? With me and Scott? Is that it? Another vision? Because I—I don't see how that could possibly be true, man. Scott's straight, and he's got a girlfriend, and I like to tease him and shit, but I don't seriously hit on him anymore, and—"

Mobile knows he shouldn't, knows he should ease Wallace's worries, but everything is too confusing for him and part of him wants Wallace to feel that confusion, too. He wants to hurt Wallace the way Wallace hurt him in the vision.

"Yes," he says, and averts his eyes so Wallace won't see them and know he's lying. "He was the man in the club I saw you with."

Wallace makes a choked-off sound in the back of his throat. "I—are you sure it's Scott Pilgrim? Because Other Scott—"

"It was Pilgrim. So if he's going to date you whenever my vision comes to pass, then he's going to have to get through the League first."

"But he doesn't want to date me. He's got a girlfriend."

"Well," Mobile says, in his best I Know The Future And You Do Not voice, "things change."

Ten minutes later, he manages to get a confused and dejected Wallace out of the apartment.

***

"Was he this nervous and twitchy when he was waiting on my exes to show up?" Ramona asks Wallace the next night at a party.

Wallace shrugs. "He's always a little nervous and twitchy, even without exes to fight. But no, he wasn't this bad until Gideon."

"Not going to lie, I'm a little offended," she replies. "First he copycats my life, then he makes my boyfriend more nervous about fighting for you than for me."

"Hey!" Scott interjects, without ceasing his scan of the room for any sign of an ex. "I had the power of love when I was fighting for you."

"And the power of his libido," Wallace mutters, but it seems to be enough to sate Ramona.

"Fine," she says. "Maybe you should open up a business. Scott Pilgrim's Ex-Defeating Service."

"It'd be better than his current job," Wallace agrees, which gets Scott to aim a kick for him without looking. He misses by inches, then points at another partygoer excitedly.

"That's him! That's Bill Brendon, isn't it? Your second evil ex?"

"Yeah. Look, Scott, be careful. He was a hockey player and—"

The area around them suddenly clears as everyone backs away from Bill Brendon. Even Wallace and Ramona retreat to the crowd, and Scott shoots them both a helpless glare before he turns his attention back to the task at hand.

"Scott Pilgrim?" Bill asks, "You don't seem to be Wallace's type."

He gestures to his own muscled body, and then to Scott's own soft, slackery one.

"Wallace doesn't so much have a type as he has a gender," Scott replies back uneasily. "No offense, Wallace."

"So this is what you go for now, Wells? I'm doing you a favor, then. Defeating this guy before you can waste any more time with someone who's such a…wimp."

"Look," Scott says, annoyed and eager for the fight, "can you just spill your back story now so I can kick your ass?"

"I was planning on monologuing about how much better than you I am for awhile, but if you insist."

"I do. I insist."

Everything swims in front of Scott's vision for a second, and then suddenly he's on ice, slip-sliding until he catches his balance and watches the scene before him.

"Wallace and I met at a Maple Leafs game and had an instant connection." Sure enough, Scott can see a younger Wallace and Bill in the crowd, cheering excitedly for their team.

"It wasn't instant—" Wallace's voice cuts in, but Bill interrupts.

"Enough from you, Wells. It was an instant connection. And then a stray puck instantly connected with my head. Wallace stayed with me while doctors checked to make sure I didn't have a concussion, and walked me home after. We started dating right after."

The image in front of Scott's eyes swims and he catches glimpses of Wallace and Bill on various dates, in various states of enjoyment, and occasionally, various states of undress. Then it settles on a tearful-looking Bill hugging Wallace.

"Then he left me," Bill narrates. "He went off to college and left me. He said we'd try to make it work, but we didn't. A month later he broke up with me. Said we'd grown apart."

The vision swims again, and Scott is finally back in his own present, with Bill standing in front of him.

"Long distance relationships never work," Wallace insists from behind him. "It's not my fault you decided not to go to college so you could concentrate on training to make the Olympic hockey team."

"Well, I didn't make it, did I?" Bill counters. "I was too busy being upset over you to concentrate on my training. I could've been an Olympian and it's all your fault! You don't think about how the consequences of your actions might affect other people!"

And as fun as listening to someone insult Wallace might be—if by "fun" you meant "aggravating," and Scott Pilgrim does—Scott really just wants to get this battle over with and get back to his girlfriend. So he slides his fingers over his chest until he feels his sword, then jerks it out of his chest and brandishes it in Bill's face.

"Let's get this over with," he says, "or are you too much of a has-been to fight me?"

Bill produces a hockey stick from behind his back and Scott really hopes it's a back pack sort of situation there and not…well, exactly where his mind doesn't want to go. He holds the stick at the ready and beckons Scott forward, lashing out at Scott with the stick when he gets close enough.

Scott's not much of a hockey player, or watcher, actually, and Wallace used to tease him about his total lack of interest in sports, when Wallace himself loved them. But Scott does know that hockey sticks operate with the blade part on the ground. He's seen enough to know that the blade stays on the ice to move the puck, only lifting when the puck is being passed.

So when he sees that Bill is about to attack with the stick, he jumps straight up, assuming the blade will pass underneath him and then he can land and start his own attack.

Unfortunately, Bill seems to have other ideas and the stick comes crashing down against Scott's skull so hard that for a second or two, his entire world goes dark.

He goes down onto his knees, on all fours while he tries to get his senses working again. He can hear Wallace shouting for him to watch out, but his grip on his sword has gone weak and he feels like he needs to drink a potion to restore his hit points or something.

"Told you," Bill spits. "Wimp. That was too fucking easy, Pilgrim. Wallace can do better than you. Not that it matters. If we can't have him, then no one—"

"Oh, for God's sake," someone says, and when Scott finally manages to stop the dizziness in his head long enough to look up, Wallace is ducking the stick like Scott should have and landing a punch right on Bill's nose.

Blood sprays out from the impact and Bill makes a noise like a trodden-on cat. He jumps back, holding his nose with one hand, and in the few seconds it takes for him to get his hockey stick back at the ready, Wallace rushes over, helps Scott to his feet, and hands him his sword.

Then Bill is back and they're both ducking and diving and Scott earns himself a few impressive bruises in the process.

He slashes at Bill with his sword while Wallace distracts him with punches, then parries Bill's stick when he lashes out.

And then he spots a weak spot, the back of Bill's knee, and nicks him with the sword while Wallace ducks a blow.

Bill crumples to his knees, trying to fend them off with his stick, but Wallace manages to wrest it from his grip.

"Wallace…" he says, sort of sad, and then Scott runs him through with the sword just as Wallace brings the hockey stick down on his head.

There's a flash of blinding white, then his hockey stick practically melts in Wallace's hands, shifting and pooling until it reshapes itself into a jersey. On the ground, there's a matching one where his body once was, and Scott grabs it while Wallace turns the other over in his hands.

On the back, it has PILGRIM written between the shoulders in bright red letters, and on the front, where the player number should be, it instead says +2. Wallace's says the same, only with WELLS on the back, and that's when Scott looks above their heads to see the words

Wallace and Scott have leveled up!

+2 Teamwork

in shimmering gold letters that seem to dissipate and fade like the remnants of a firework.

He glances at Wallace, shrugs, and tugs the jersey on over his clothes. Wallace does the same and slings his arm around Scott's shoulders as the two of them head back to Ramona.

***

That night, Scott is sprawled out on Ramona's bed, trying not to make delighted little noises every time she touches him while she straddles his waist. Even after all this time together, he's still in awe of her, in love not just with the way she touches him, but the fact that she cares about him enough to touch in the first place. She's beautiful outside and in, and he's crazy for her, absolutely raving mad about the way she makes him feel.

But he stops her before she can wiggle a hand into his underwear, because he has to tell her the whole truth before anything goes further. He doesn't want to stop, doesn't really believe that it could possibly be true anyway, but he thinks that after everything, she has the right to hear about it from him.

"Ramona," he starts, and stops when his eyes drift down to the swell of her chest as she catches her breath.

"You don't have to profess your love for me every single time we have sex," she says gently. "I get it, Scott Pilgrim. I love you, too."

"No, not that. I just need to tell you something. About the Wallace thing."

She sits up a little straighter and pushes her hair—bright orange this week, but it somehow works for her—back from her face. "All right. Tell me about the copycatters."

"Wallace went to talk to Mobile about why the League is coming after me."

"Some people are just determined to have their minds in the gutter about a platonic friendship, I guess," she says, with a tiny shrug of her shoulders.

"No, it's—Mobile said he had a vision of me and Wallace making out in a club or something. That's why he broke up with him and started the League."

She stares at him for a moment, then bursts out laughing and rolls off of him, landing on the bed beside him and burying her face against his shoulder to stifle the noise.

"Ramona? Uh, Ramona? I figured you'd be pissed or—"

She finally calms down and looks up at him, then starts laughing all over again.

"Hey, come on—"

It takes awhile before she can quit laughing long enough to answer him, but when she finally does, she's still shaking her head in silent amusement.

"Scott, if you and Wallace were ever going to hook up, you'd have done it by now. You've shared a bed for years and nothing's ever happened. Plus, you're too afraid that Envy, Kim, Knives, and I will form a League of our own, aren't you?"

"You know subspace," Scott answers seriously. "And ninja stuff. And Kim could kill me with her drumstick. She'd just poke it through my eye."

Ramona nods idly, like this is just banal chitchat. "Mhm. She would. And if you cheated on me with Wallace, I'd let her. Or anyone, for that matter."

"That's fair. So you're really not pissed that Mobile thinks Wallace and me are gonna hook up? And that he's sleeping with me again? And that he kind of has a thing for stealing other people's supposedly straight boyfriends?"

She shrugs. "Scott, you love me. And beyond all logic or reason, I love you, too. I trust you."

He kisses her then, beyond all words, because he knows how much it means for her to say that. And as long as she's not upset, then he's going to put Mobile's prediction from his mind, because when he's with her, nothing else seems to matter.

***

Ex number three comes in the form of Jerry Poole a few days after the party. Scott is walking home through the park after work with Stephen Stills, manfully explaining—and not whining, no matter what Stephen Stills says—about Wallace and Ramona and the Big Gay Prediction. He figures that Stephen Stills of all people would understand the way he's kind of freaking out about it, but instead Stephen Stills is just giving him this little glare that he's clearly been picking up from Joseph.

"Scott, if your problems had a face, I would shove my foot up their ass."

"I—but—this is a real problem," Scott insists. "Why do I always have to fight the exes?"

Stephen shrugs, then freezes when he looks over Scott's shoulder. Scott turns instantly, somehow just knowing that this isn't going to be good, and only just manages to duck to avoid getting hit in the face.

"Uh," Stephen Stills says, "listen, I get enough bitch fights from Joseph, so I'm just going to…leave you two to this."

And then he runs. Bastard.

Scott wracks his brain for the memory of this ex's identity, finally closing his mental fingers over the name "Jerry Poole." But beyond the fact that he was Wallace's first college boyfriend, he totally blanks on the back story, and that really sucks because if Scott has learned anything about defeating exes, it's that the back story is everything.

"Shit," he says to no one, and desperately searches his brain while trying to avoid punches.

"Jerry," he says, vamping for time, "listen, we don't have to fight each other—"

"He's ours."

"Fine. He's yours. I'm not dating him."

"Not yet," Jerry says, and manages to sweep Scott's legs out from under him. "Mobile says you're going to be soon and the League can't stand for that."

Scott huffs in frustration. "Did Mobile also tell you that I'm straight?"

He manages to land a punch on Jerry's chin before he adds, "Or that I have a girlfriend, and that I had to defeat seven of her exes in order to date her?"

"Then you're not making me the tenth ex you've defeated," Jerry answers, and returns the punch with interest. "And considering who you were just walking home with, I'd think you'd know that having a girlfriend doesn't mean you're not going to end up with a man."

"That's different," Scott snaps, even though he's not really sure that it is because Stephen Stills doesn't talk about dating Joseph aside from the occasional story of something that happened to the two of them, or boring and-or crazy activities Joseph has made him partake in. He never talks about the actual dating him, about how Joseph makes him feel or how their relationship came to be. So Scott doesn't know if it's different or not, or how Stephen Stills feels about girls and more specifically Julie. But he does know that he's in love with Ramona Flowers and that even if he were going to date a guy, Wallace wouldn't be his type. So he says it with as much belief in its validity as he can have.

"It's really not."

"And how do you know who Stephen Stills—"

"My leader is psychic, remember?"

"Then he must've seen how this fight turns out," Scott retorts.

For just a second, Jerry's face twists. "He doesn't share the outcomes with us," he says finally.

"Considering what happened to the last two goons he sent, I wonder why that might be?" Scott answers back, and Jerry makes an awful, furious, animalistic sound before he comes at Scott with the ferocity of a wild animal.

Which is when Scott remembers that Jerry was studying to be a veterinarian when Wallace met him. He panics, because if this guy has animal powers, how the hell is Scott supposed to compete with that? Animals are scary. They make noises and they're very needy. There's no room for that neediness in Scott's life, not next to his own.

So, like an idiot, he takes off running around the park, screaming his head off, while Jerry chases after him, shouting insults. He gropes in the pocket of his coat, finds the cell phone Ramona insisted he get—both for his own safety, she said, and boy was she right, but also so that she wouldn't have to be the unwitting recipient of any more of Wallace's drunk texts to Scott.

He hits the number two speed dial and runs through the merry-go-round, stopping just long enough to set it spinning when Jerry tries to follow. It'll buy him a few more seconds once Jerry manages to stumble off and fight the dizziness.

"Hello?"

"Wallace," Scott yells, "Jerry's here and he's got like, animal powers or something and—"

"Jerry? Really? I mean, I put every ex I'd ever broken up with on that list I gave you just in case, but…I mean, it wasn't like we were really dating. He just liked to follow me around like a puppy dog a lot."

Scott glances up at Jerry, watching him stumble awkwardly off the spinning play ground equipment.

"You'll pay for that," he says, pointing at a tree rather than at Scott. "I have an inner ear condition, you know. My equilibrium is not to be messed with."

"Sorry," Scott says, without any kind of apology in his voice. "Hey, Wallace says you two were never really going out, so maybe we can just end this now, and—"

"We were so!" Jerry says adamantly, and aims his shouts at the phone. "Just because some people have no heart, that doesn't mean the rest of us don't. He slept with me twice. How's that not going out?"

From the phone, Wallace shouts back, "It was the first week of college! You were there, you were into me, and you were reasonably attractive. It was just sex. And I told you that, but you wouldn't stop stalking me and sending me presents."

"Excuse me for trying to be a good boyfriend," Jerry huffs. "You see what he does?" he adds, to Scott this time. "He thinks with his dick and it never even occurs to him that that might hurt other people's feelings. He never even looked at me after he found Derek."

Derek sticks in Scott's head as the last real relationship Wallace had until Mobile, and that seems strange if they met in Wallace's first year of college. But he can't think about that right now, because Scott knows better than anyone that once the back story is revealed, then it's time to kick some ass.

The way Jerry fights is completely different from the way Gregory and Bill fought. They fought like they were mad at Scott, or at Wallace, or even maybe at the world. But Jerry fights like he's mad at himself, desperate little noises backed up by a ferocious intensity that can only come from the most awful truth anyone can ever face: the things that are wrong with your life weren't caused by someone else; they were caused by you. Scott knows this because he had to face it when he merged with Nega-Scott, had to accept that he'd fucked up and did a lot of things wrong. That's the way Jerry looks now, like just saying those things out loud made him realize that maybe he read what he wanted to out of the situation, rather than what was actually there.

But he's still fighting, which means that Scott has to, too.

It's really not that hard to get the guy down on his knees, not when he's still half-dizzy from the merry-go-round and his inner ear condition. He is more like a puppy dog than any of the vicious animals that went through Scott's head when he realized that Jerry might have animal powers, and Scott feels a little bad for him.

"I don't want to have to do this, Jerry," he says. "Just let it go, all right? Go home, leave the League, and fight your inner demons instead of me."

Jerry just shakes his head sadly. "Sex isn't just about sex," he says seriously. "Wallace needs to learn that."

Scott's pretty sure that since Wallace has had boyfriends before, he knows that, but he also knows that at the very least, he has a tendency to forget that fact, too. And he also knows that this could've easily been him after Envy dumped him—sort of was, minus joining a League and fighting her new boyfriend—so he really doesn't want to do what he knows he has to.

He closes his eyes and lands a punch square in the center of Jerry's chest, and the fight ends in an explosion without him ever once using his power of friendship sword.

He almost doesn't want to see what's left in Jerry's wake, but he finally forces his eyes open to find a stuffed puppy dog plush with the same color eyes as Jerry had. Above him, the words

Scott has earned +3 to empathy!

shine above his head.

He glances around the empty park, then tucks the toy under his arm and heads home. He suddenly needs to talk to his roommate.

***

He's home for almost an hour and a half before Wallace comes stumbling in, drunk. This isn't an unusual sight, and on any other night, Scott wouldn't mind. But he feels almost too empathetic for Jerry, almost like he's on his side instead of Wallace's, and the idea that Wallace was out drinking even after Scott's phone call earlier—and probably hooking up, too, if Scott knows anything about him—while he himself was battling a really nice, if misguided, guy just grates on him.

"Hey, guy!" Wallace says, and glances down at the stuffed toy Scott has sitting on his lap. "Did we get a puppy?"

Scott chucks the toy at Wallace's head. "That's what's left of Jerry Poole."

"Congratulations!" Wallace says happily, and retrieves the toy from the floor to deposit it on the counter.

"He loved you," Scott says. "Did you know that? Jerry?"

"He was obsessed with me," Wallace says. He blinks at Scott in a way that reeks of trying to sober up, and it only serves to piss Scott off more. "There's a difference."

"You should've had more tact."

"You should stay out of my business," Wallace retorts.

"You know what? I'd love to, but I can't because your stupid ex thinks we're sleeping together and is sending your business out to kill me. So how about you man up, go fight Mobile yourself, and put an end to this so I can stay out of it? Jerry was ex number ten, Wallace. I'm officially done."

"But there are still two more left. What about Derek and Mobile?"

"You fight them," Scott huffs. "I'm done with this."

Wallace stares at him for a long moment, then says, "You're serious."

"I am," Scott agrees, and gropes along his chest until he feels the handle he's looking for. He tugs the power of friendship out of his chest and throws it on the ground at Wallace's feet. "Take it. I don't need it anymore. I don't want it. I don't want you."

And before Wallace can say anything, Scott pushes past him, stomping on the sword as he goes. He hears it shatter and knows that above him, the words

Scott has lost the power of friendship!

-3 loyalty

-2 happiness

+2 loneliness

are forming. He doesn't care.

"You can stay here tonight," he says on his way out. "I'll sleep at Ramona's. But I want you out by tomorrow night."

And then he slams the door shut behind him.

***

Ramona took him in without question when she saw how upset he was the night before, for which Scott will be eternally grateful. She just shook her head and put him to bed, letting him curl around her with his head on her shoulder. He'd needed that. But the next morning over breakfast, she insists he tell her what's wrong and try as he might to resist her, he's kind of hopeless when it comes to telling Ramona no.

So the whole story comes spilling out of him, about the fight with Jerry and the fight with Wallace, about how it was almost impossible for him not to see some of himself in Jerry and some of Envy in Wallace. Ramona listens patiently, then asks, "I thought you got closure with Envy."

"I did. But Jerry didn't get to. And if Envy and I could forgive each other and Wallace couldn't do that, then it just…"

"Makes him seem worse than her," Ramona supplies.

Scott nods, then admits. "I broke our friendship sword."

She sighs and pulls him to her, kissing him softly on the lips. "Scott," she says, "Wallace is not your boyfriend."

"I know that."

"That means that what happened between him and his exes isn't your business. They shouldn't be making you fight them, but since they are, it's not your place to judge. You weren't there. You didn't even know Wallace back then. I wasn't a very nice person when I was eighteen, either. I'm not even sure I'm completely a nice person now. People change, and even if they don't, it's not your place to judge other people's relationships unless you're involved with one of them, and you're not. So get over it, Scott Pilgrim. Wallace is your friend, and he needs you."

Scott hates it when she's right. It's a disturbingly frequent occurrence.

"Okay," he says finally. "I'll go talk to him after work."

She gives him her I'm Proud of You look, which is one of his favorite Ramona-looks ever, and heads off to work without another word.

***

That night after work, Scott sends Wallace a text, letting him know that, "we nd 2 tlk" and receives one back that says, "im @ bar. whr u wnt 2 mt?"

Scott texts back asking which bar Wallace is at, and then goes there without replying. He'd like to pretend that he doesn't know why, but he does. Mobile said that it happened in a club. Maybe it's going to be some big reunion thing? Maybe when he sees Wallace, he'll want to kiss him? He doubts it, but he feels like this is one trap he needs to walk into, just to see if it'll spring.

But when he gets there and sees Wallace from the other side of the room, there's nothing there but the same thing that's always been. It's definitely a kind of love, and it's more love than he has for his other friends because Wallace is special to him, but it's not even a candle to what he feels for Ramona. And he doesn't want to kiss Wallace even a little bit, so he has absolutely no clue where Mobile's vision came from. He's starting to wonder if that vision actually existed at all.

"Hey," he says when he's crossed the floor. "Listen—"

"Scott, I'm sorry," Wallace says, but Scott just shakes his head.

He's a little in awe that Wallace actually said he was sorry to someone, but this is one time when it's not needed. "You shouldn't be," he counters. "I am. I just…it's kind of a sore spot and I got too invested in it." He shrugs. "Your past is your past. It's not my business."

"It is if you have to keep fighting it," Wallace says gently. "I tried talking to Mobile again. He's not willing to call off the dogs 'cause of the whole vision thing."

"Okay. Then…let's fight Derek together. Like we did Bill."

"I don't know how we can defeat him," Wallace says, a hint of helplessness in his voice. "Your sword is—"

Scott grabs Wallace, pulls him into a hug, and squeezes him tight. "You're my best friend, Wallace Wells, and I love you. It'll come back."

After a second, Wallace admits, "Yeah, Scott. You're my best friend, too. I love you, too, guy."

Above him, the words

Scott and Wallace have gained the power of sincerity!

+3 honesty

+2 openness

-2 sarcasm

sparkle brightly.

Then their chests glow and they each grip the handle emerging from their sternums, pulling out two matching ice-blue swords. Scott grins at Wallace as the words above them change to proclaim

Scott and Wallace have re-gained the power of friendship!

***

They train for a few days, sparring against each other, and to Scott's surprise, they're pretty evenly matched. He kind of figured that his experience at ex-fighting would give him the edge, but there's something in Wallace's face when they're pretending that Scott is Derek that reminds him of Jerry. Not nearly as awful, but some kind of inner fire driving him to work harder and throw everything into the fight, and it leaves them both exhausted after every single scrimmage.

He doesn't mean to trigger it, but he needs to know the back story with Wallace and Derek because that always seems to be important for the fight. Wallace protests at first, but finally rolls over to face Scott in their bed and says, "All right, look, I…I guess it's fitting after what I did to Jerry. I don't know. Anyway, I met Derek early on in my freshman year of college, and I was pretty much head over heels for the guy at first sight. He's gorgeous, Scott. You'll see when you meet him. But more than that, he was nice, and funny, and he seemed to like me. So I asked him out, and we started dating, and we were together for…I don't know, years. And then I walked in on him going down on some guy and I just…I loved him. Really loved him, you know?"

Scott pats Wallace's shoulder consolingly. He does know.

"And I just went through this phase afterwards—hell, not even a phase. More like my life until I met Mobile and got over the whole, 'You love someone and they hurt you,' thing. I don't know. I don't know why he's even in the League. He left me, not the other way around. Anyway. Guess it served me right after what I did to Jerry."

He gives Scott an apologetic smile, but Scott just shakes his head. He refuses to judge Wallace for this. Absolutely refuses.

"Does he have any special powers I should know about?"

"Other than the ability to make me stupid? Yeah. He was pre-med," Wallace offers. "He can heal himself pretty fast."

Scott nods, squeezes Wallace's shoulder one more time, and decides it's time to go to sleep. He'll figure out how to defeat Derek in the morning.

***

Scott isn't counting on it when Mobile actually shows up to their fight with Derek. For a second, he thinks they're going to have to fight both of them at once, since Derek will have to fight the two of them. But Mobile just takes a seat at the top of the stairway leading down to the expanse of empty lawn that the fight is going down on. It feels like he's some kind of emperor watching down and Scott wonders if he's had a vision about this, too.

"Mobile," Wallace says before Scott can ask, "come on, guy. Can't we just stop this? I love you."

"I saw you cheat on—"

"I don't cheat!" Wallace snaps. "Never, okay? I'm not a cheater, especially not on you."

Mobile just shakes his head and sighs.

"Mobile, don't do this. You know how this turns out, don't you?"

"I do."

"Then why make us go through with it?"

He doesn't answer, but he doesn't really need to because suddenly Scott's head is bouncing off of Wallace's with a resounding THUNK! and they both fall to the ground dazedly.

Scott glances over at Wallace, watches the look on his face when he sees that it was Derek who did this to him, then grips his friendship sword and pulls it from his chest.

"Aw," Derek says, "isn't this cute, Mobile? Sticking up for his boyfriend."

"Damn right I am," Scott answers. "You hurt my best friend and then you have the nerve to join the League?"

"It was a recommended page on my Facebook feed, okay?"

"You could've ignored the invite," Wallace says, and drags himself to his feet. "You cheated on me and now you're here to attack me and my best friend, and helping Mobile call me a cheater."

Glaring, he grips his own sword and yanks it free from his chest.

They attack at the same time, and it's not until Scott feels something cold and metallic slice through his cheek that he realizes Derek has a weapon, too, a sharp and gleaming scalpel. He tries to shout to Wallace to be on the look out for it, but Derek punches the air out of Scott's chest before he can, and Scott sees a cut on Wallace's arm as he goes down, anyway.

He lands on his back and manages to nick the back of Derek's heel, right through the Achilles' tendon. On anyone else, it might've incapacitated him, or at least slowed him down to a limp, but Derek's healing powers make it heal right before Scott's eyes.

They talked about this, about the only thing they could think of to do to Derek that he couldn't heal from, but the idea of actually doing it is so repulsive that Scott can barely stand it.

"Wallace," he shouts, "we're going to have to do that thing we talked about."

He expects Wallace to say they can't, or to be horrified, but there's just grim determination all over his features.

The distraction costs them, though, and Derek gets a kick at Wallace's shin, two punches to his chest, and a quick cut across his bicep in before Scott gets back to his feet and takes some of the heat off of Wallace.

He loses track of what Wallace is doing while he ducks blows and occasionally receives and recovers from them. His part of the plan is to distract, because they both agreed that he'd been partially right about this being Wallace's fight. Which is all fine, because Scott thinks he's a pretty good distraction, all things considered, but it also means that he has almost no warning of what Wallace does next.

He hears Wallace and Derek arguing, hears Wallace shout, "You ruined me for years until I met Mobile. I couldn't love anyone until him!" and then suddenly a swish of epic proportions rents the air and Derek's head falls neatly off his shoulders and onto the ground at Scott's feet.

He screams as both body and head explode into a shower of sparks that form themselves into his and Wallace's life meters above their head and refill their hit points to maximum. He can't help it, it's too damn horrifying, and his eyes find Wallace through the shimmer and they just stare at each other blankly.

When Scott finally gets the presence of mind to look up, Mobile has left.

***

Mobile knows that if he fights Wallace and Scott, they're going to kick his ass. Which is why he's confused when he has not only a vision of them doing just that, but a vision of the fight being called off on account of him and Wallace making out.

He feels instantly guilty, because he remembers for the first time the comment Wallace made about his vision maybe being a future that wouldn't come to pass. And knowing that his two visions on this matter completely contradict each other, so they both can't be true, he realizes that Wallace might've been right.

Why does this psychic stuff have to be so open for interpretation? And why is it so impossibly hard for him to just pick up the phone and call Wallace to apologize and beg him to come home?

And fuck, after the things Mobile learned about Wallace and Derek during their fight, he understands why Wallace was so hurt that Mobile accused him of cheating, which makes it even harder because he's pretty sure he's been wrong all along.

***

"Don't defeat Mobile, okay?" Wallace murmurs into the darkness the next night in bed.

"Hmm?"

"The final—you know, the kill shot. Let me do it, okay? If anyone's going to, it should be me."

"Wallace—"

"I love him, Scott. Still. Even after all of this. I—in a way, I'm almost grateful because it let me deal with the things I've done, you know? Even Derek…I let what he did get to me and turn me into a guy who'd fuck any guy I saw. A guy who'd steal other people's boyfriends. It's a wonder Stacey even talks to me, after how many times I did that to her."

"But you didn't fuck up with Mobile."

"I know," Wallace sighs. "I didn't. Which is why I don't want you to end him until I…I know it won't work, but I just have to try to talk some sense into him, you know? One more try."

"Okay," Scott whispers. "One more try."

***

The fight with Mobile goes down at dance club, somewhat ironically, since Wallace's supposed presence in one is what started the whole thing to begin with. It's Stephen Stills's birthday so most of his friends are there, much to Joseph's chagrin. Scott's having a great time dancing with Ramona and Wallace and even the birthday boy himself once or twice. And somehow, with all that fun around him, Scott forgets to worry about when Mobile will show up and if he and Wallace will be ready for him when he does. He almost figures there's no way to win against a psychic—he can predict their every move, and wouldn't engage in a battle he'd seen he'd lose, but Wallace mumbled something about how he doesn't think it really works that way and Scott got distracted by something shiny and forgot to ask more about it.

So this, of course, is when Mobile walks in.

Scott instantly jumps into a fighting stance, pulling his sword out of his chest as he goes. Wallace does the same a few feet away, but Mobile holds up his hands in surrender.

"I just want to talk," he says gently.

"Don't fall for it," Scott hisses. "Or—or maybe he's seen you falling for it and wants you to fall for it so he can trick you. Or—"

"Scott," Wallace says sharply, and Scott shuts up. "Mobile, let's not do this, all right?"

Mobile moves closer, glancing awkwardly around the room at everyone watching.

"I saw the outcome of this fight," he says quietly. "Twice."

"Then why are you here?" Scott cuts in, with confidence he's not sure he feels.

"Because I don't know which vision will come true. I saw you guys defeating me and I saw—I saw us getting back together."

A long pause fills the room until Wallace finally asks, "Which one do you want to come true?"

Mobile hangs his head, and says, "I believe you."

"What?"

"About the cheating. I believe you didn't do it. It could've been a future that will never come true. Like my visions about this fight."

Wallace stiffens. "Oh, so you finally believe me? Well, that's great, except it would've been nice if you'd believed my word, rather than waiting for a vision about your own life or death to confirm it."

"What?" Scott interrupts. "Isn't this what you want, Wallace? To get him back?"

"Don't you get it, Scott?" Wallace asks. "He has to forgive me now. His life depends on it. If he doesn't, then we fight, and he loses. If he does, we make up, and he lives. He doesn't believe me, he's just selfish."

"No, I—that's not it at all," Mobile protests, but Wallace still has his sword at the ready.

And that's when Scott gets an idea.

"Wait!" he says before Wallace can attack.

"In a minute," Wallace says. "Let me take care of this first."

"No, you can't. I have a way out of this."

Wallace lowers his sword just a little and sighs. "What?"

"We don't have to fight him at all."

"Yeah, and then he gets to live and—"

"No, we can just…walk away. You don't have to get back together with him right now, and you don't have to kill him, either. We can just…put the swords away and let it go. And then, one day, when you're ready to forgive him for not believing you, maybe then you can work on trusting each other. You can try again. But for now, let's just…take secret option number three."

"But that wasn't one of his visions."

"So? He also saw us making out and that's never going to happen in any future ever." For a second, Mobile clears his throat like he's going to speak, and then seems to think better of it and falls silent again.

"This future-predicting is messy because once you know about it, you can change it. So let's change it, Wallace. Let's just not do this. We don't have to fight him, he doesn't have to die, and you don't have to get back together with him until you're ready to trust him again. Come on. Put the sword down, man. In a week or two, make a date to have coffee."

"And what if in a week or two, he doesn't want me back because he got to live, just like he wanted?"

"Then you form a league of his exes," Scott answers, with as much seriousness as he can muster.

Very, very slowly, Wallace lowers his sword. "Fine. I'll call you in a few weeks, Mobile. When I've cooled down a little."

Mobile nods, and beats a hasty retreat.

After a long moment, Wallace pulls Scott into a one-armed hug with a whispered, "Thank you."

Above him the words

Scott has leveled up!

+3 maturity

+2 rational thinking

-2 violence

shine brightly.

Wallace releases him and heads to the bar to get a drink, but Ramona is beaming at him with her I'm Proud of You look seemingly cemented onto her face.

"They'll try again, huh?" she asks, and he just gives her a small smile in return.

Hey, it worked for them.