A/N: Part 2 of the short story, The Monster. Please read that first for context.

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The water was red hot against his sore muscles. Grom took a moment to lather himself with the scented soap bar he bought from Starr Shop. It read Cavern Quartz and showed the symbols of Jacky, Carl, and Dynamike. All Brawlers he had yet to meet since he began working. He just never had a reason to go down the mines.

Grom rubbed a hand against his neck and felt a stiff pain run down his spine. He looked at his arms and massaged the cuts along them. Thinking about how tonight's fight ended he couldn't help but mumble, "I do not like." He pushed his strangely long hair out of his face. Again, he reiterated, "I do not like."

When the water turned off, he dried himself with a bright red towel and put on a clean white shirt. He had some grey sweatpants to add to the outfit. Just as simple as he could dream. Though he didn't have a towel for his hair. He would have to suffer a little longer until he could get it cut.

He walked the halls of the castle's underground barracks. Each member of Starr Park worked in a specific location with a special theme. While some had more strenuous jobs with open interaction with the public, others had to keep their personal interactions to a minimum. They had to keep up the image of an amusement park while handling business under the radar.

As such he was assigned as reconnaissance for Starr Park as well as the overseer of the Starr Park Castle. Ash was the registered janitor of Starr Park though he and Grom posed as members of the guard when tourists would arrive and wish to visit the castle.

He hissed when he realized the mistake he had made. As reconnaissance, it was his job to inform the Starr Park officials of approaching threats. To complete this goal, he walked the park's perimeter every day. He paid close attention to locations that had easy access from the outer gates to the dangerous world around the park. Though he never expected an attack to suddenly arrive from deep within their own castle. A beast that big busting down a wall in the middle of the night was unexpected to say the least.

Though he was happy that he and Ash had handled the issue without bringing any other official Brawlers into the fray. Speaking of his ally. He wondered where Ash was. The halls were barren, more so than usual. He often expected to see the Little Helpers rushing around the halls and picking up garbage as they moved. But tonight, it was silent in the murky sea-breeze corridors.

Grom pondered where his ally was. Why hadn't he showered with him after their clean-up? In fact, Grom realized he'd never showered with Ash before. Hell, he's never even seen Ash without his armor. An oddity he found strange only to notice now.

But tonight he caught a glimpse. His hair was certainly odd. Strange by Grom's standard might just be a bit different from normal but even then, he'd never seen a hairdo that lifted your follicles that high. It was almost like he had horns on his head. Maybe that diner boss Bull would be jealous if he saw Ash's haircut. A thought that played with Grom's simple humor.

He continued along listening to the echo of his heavy steps. Then came a soft strumming. The mellow beat of a string reverberated through a hollow case. Grom followed this sound until he came to a familiar door. It was the same door that Ash had invited him to so many times before.

The light strumming of a guitar could be heard leaking through the cracks in the door. Cracks that were strange to see along the edges of the door's frame. Had their previous fight caused that much damage even below the ballroom?

Grom went to knock on the door but was stopped when he heard the melodic tone coming from behind the wall. His eyes slowly shut while he swayed along with the beat. He placed a hand against the door's center and leaned forward. He only wanted to rest his legs but he ended up tumbling forward. The door's hinges had been shaken loose by the explosions from before and it fell over with a heavy thud. Grom spilled into the room and clutched his already aching head.

He shook away rapidly forming cobwebs until his vision cleared. He looked up and remembered the room he had stumbled into. There wasn't much in the form of decoration within the room. There was a Celtic flag posted up along one of the walls and a black beanbag chair in the corner. His bed had bland brown sheets plus a comforter that reminded him of the forest during the fall.

There was a mirror leaning against one of the walls which he assumed Ash used during his morning routines. He remembered there were a set of folding dividers set up around the room's interior. Similar to the partition he'd see in Japanese hotels or eccentric changing rooms.

Grom's vision returned with time and he looked away from the bed. His strange hair problem blocked his vision as he turned to where Ash would usually sit. He stuttered out, "Sorry mine friend. The door is broken. Not my-" There was a sudden smash as the lights went out. Grom heard the guitar clammer to the floor. It slid below his bangs and into view. It wasn't a large acoustic guitar liked he assumed but rather a small ukelele.

Grom pushed his bangs out of view so he could better inspect his surroundings. The outer edges weren't pitch black but he couldn't see any clear images through the shade. The only light source came from the hallway and it swam over Grom's body. His usually stout figure looked lanky as his shadow stretched into the darkness.

Then came the scattered shuffles in the darkness. The blonde radioman turned his head in response, "Ash?"

A call came back rather quickly, "Aye. Could ya be leavin' my room?"

Grom was a bit miffed. "I am sorry. I-"

"Leave! ME ROOM!" Ash's voice was frantic. He sounded like a cornered animal. Grom swore he heard an animalistic cry leave his throat.

The blonde pinpointed his location from those scared calls. Ash was hiding behind one of those dividing partitions he had seen before. Usually he would listen along. He wasn't one to pry but something wasn't right. He had never known Ash to be shy. Hiding in corners and cowering from the public wasn't his style. Even less so when interacting with friends. So, what was so different tonight?

He heard Ash nervously shuffling back and forth. For a moment his arm reached out from behind the partition he cowered behind to grab his shield. "Get out o' 'ere ya piss-scalped bastard!" Grom was thoroughly confused now. Playground insults aside he was shocked by what he saw.

Ash never went anywhere without his armor. And the hue of said garments was a deep blue with accenting shades to match. Even his arms were wrapped in steel armor shaded blue plus blue gloves.

Or so he thought.

But when Ash's hand reached out, he saw that his palms were still blue. If they were blue, he must still have his armor on plus the undergarments he wore beneath. Grom felt a bit calmer now. "Oh good. I thought you were naked."

"I am nake' ya buffoon."

Okay, now he is extra confused. If he's naked why did he see blue hands? Grom slowly approached the corner. "We are men. We have seen many naked men." Another odd point stood out as he got closer. Ash's silhouette was easier to see. For the most part, he looked rather normal. But if he was naked what was that thing on his head? Had he not undone whatever strange hairstyle Grom had saw before? And what was up with his legs? They almost looked backward.

Ash's voice warbled a bit. He angrily responded, "Are ya some sorta fruit?"

Grom scoffed, "I am a man. As are you."

Their conversation between light levels was interrupted by weight on Grom's foot. He looked down and saw one of the Little Helpers nipping at his heel. He shook it off realizing that Ash must have sent it to get Grom out of the room.

As he shook one away another suddenly jumped onto his leg. Followed by another, and another, until there was a small swarm of bots biting his feet. He turned to the door and felt his heart drop. A tidal wave of Little Helpers was waiting at the door for Grom. Their sudden arrival gave him the heebie-jeebies. He took careful steps back and unknowingly walked into the partition that Ash was hiding behind.

The trash knight voiced his discourse, but it was already too late. Grom came tumbling through the divide and punctured the thin veil. Ash yelled out and tried to push Grom away but accidentally pressed a button on his shield.

When the fall came to its end Grom noticed his hands were currently latched around Ash's foot. And he noticed how fuzzy his ankles were. Was he wearing one of those strange fur pants? Was that why he was so embarrassed?

Then the squeaks of the Little Helpers grew louder. The two looked through the dark corner and saw as the swarm of rats began to glow. Grom locked eyes with Ash. Even through the darkness, they could see the terror in the other's eyes. They held onto each other and screamed as the wave of explosions rained down on them.

When the tornado of brimstone and thermite concluded they too came walking out of the room with soot on their eyes. Ash crumbled against the wall and spat out some smoke while Grom used the underside of his shirt to wipe his eyes.

When he finally regained his vision, his voice caught in his throat. What he saw sitting down against the blue wall was confounding.

To start.

He had finally gotten to see Ash's face. And it was exactly what he expected. Ratty hair that showed a lack of brushing, conditioner, or general care outside of washing it with what he assumed was soap. He had massive sideburns and a massive pillar of facial hair hanging off his chin. He had a big nose and yellow eyes as he assumed from the few times they would shine beneath his armor's hood.

What he didn't expect was his skin color. Blue. A light blue matching the shade of his armor. Like the baby blue a boy's room is painted with when they first come home from the hospital. And that was the easiest to comprehend.

Those 'tuffs of hair' that he had seen after his armor broke were two massive deep blue horns. They extended outward and hooked toward the floor though they fell no further down than his skull. He remembered how after the monster smashed Ash through the castle walls he came back with a chip in his armor. But he also arrived with a clop in his step. A fact that Grom would soon understand.

His eyes finally scrolled down his blue skin. Now the bottom of Ash's body was the strangest part. His legs were covered in thick fur akin to that of the beast from before. It wasn't the same color, was it black, blue, or purple? Whatever hue that was, it was thicker and looked perfect for napping on. Though his backward knees were a bit unsettling. That and his cloven hooves for feet didn't really make for a visually appealing lower body. Ash also noticed that he had been revealed at the same moment Grom finished taking it all in.

Ash stood up with a set of clops reverberating off the tile below. Grom pointed a shaky finger at Ash as he plastered his back against the wall. The bomber's mouth slowly opened as he managed out a shaky statement.

"Your skin is blue."

"THAT'S TA FIRS' THING YA NOTICE?!" Ash angrily roared back. He punched Grom in the stomach in response. A wheezing groan left his mouth after taking such a stiff blow from the garbage collector.

As the tone settled down Ash sat back down on the cold tiles. Grom sat on the opposite side and began the inevitable. He asked questions. "So, you are goat-man?"

"It's culled a Satyr, ya daft cunt." He grumbled out. A platform of rats ran up with a bottle of lager for him and Grom.

The two took a long sip as Grom continued, "How long have you been Goat-man?"

"I'd assume all me life."

"So, you do not know?"

"OF COURSE I KNO'!" Ash massaged his temples, "I swear ya too innocen'."

Grom took another sip before asking, "You have not told others?"

The satyr grumbled out between sips, "Of cour' not. Ta world ain' as accep'ing as ya, Grom." His rats appeared once more with two more bottles for them both.

Grom cracked open another bottle while dusting off his now gray tee shirt. "The world is more accepting than you think. Very kind people in this park. Very open."

"Betwees genies fro' the lamp an' space dogs, I think the worl' don' need to kno' satyrs exis' still." His words only grew more slurred as they continued to drink. And the two grew increasingly silent with more revelations being made.

Ash explained how his people survived by hiding in the forest of his homeland. He explained that his home was torn down by deforestation. And how he fled into a city. He was found by a man that gave him a slip with the Starr Park symbol and a number. Just like Grom, he got interviewed and his secret was exposed. The only ones that know are the people who recruited him on that day. At least that is what he assumes.

As the night droned on they were several pints deep into a barrel. And the two were feeling the burn. Grom sloppily got up, "Mine frien'." He tripped and landed at Ash's feet. A stunt that got a whooping laugh out of the goat-man. Grom snickered out and managed to sit up beside him. "Your secre' is safe. Brother."

Ash looked to his side and saw an emerald bottle dangling in Grom's hand. A matching color to the clear green bottle in his own massive palm. The mythical creature raised his glass and tapped it against Grom's.

"I alreadae kno'... Comrade."

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Word Count: 2,406