#/Cat is a feral wild woman/ and her chapters are full of her holding her tongue and trying to mediate situations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-slasher-files · 3 years

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DIFFERENT PREDATORS - chapter 4

INCLUDES ANDREI KULOKOVA x XAVIERA LAH-MO

Loving writing for this couple so so much! This literally feels like a movie and it has over taken my life. In this chapter we get to look at feral Andrei in full form, which is so cool to write for. Just a warning it is very gory. Make sure to read part one, two and three.

Also please go read @horrorslashergirl oc Xaviera’s perspective on the chapter linked HERE

MASTERLIST

Soft breathes filled the room as both predators came down gently from their high. Andrei ran his tattooed palm along Xaviera’s naked shoulder she shuddered at his touch, her icy blue eyes were now a calm blue as she watched him light a cigarette with his free hand, blowing the smoke away from her in an unconsciously kind way. The wolf had taken what was his again from the world and it felt so right, better than any time before, and he was comfortable tonight, just laying together.

Looking back down at her his eyes were calm, and jaw ebbed of the tension and control, the wolf was down. She breathed slowly and strong, her soft skin gleamed with a fine sheen of sweat in the low light. She was the perfect prey.

“So… How was your first time?” He asked, taking another drag of his cigarette. “everything you wanted it to be?” His cockiness apparent in his question.

Xaviera took a moment with the question, maybe put off but his cocky ways like most but she hummed and replied with a flash of cheekiness “Mhmmm….Always pictured that my first time would be with a wolf. I guess I am more fond of feral beasts.”

Andrei gave a huff of a laughter appreciating the many sides of her personality, she continued to match him whole heartedly. “Well aren’t you lucky.” He waited for her to continue but was comfortable in the silent pause, but noticed something in her eyes, she was looking at his cigarette that lazily hung from his lips. Andrei took a drag again but blowing the smoke closer to her to see if she liked the taste, “Would you like one?”

Xaviera perked up at the question, and she took from his cheap Russian pack that he had offered up. Taking a slow drag she sighed contently, allowing the smoke to billow to wisp around her, framing her face. “Haven’t smoked since college. Sleepless nights full of studying.” Xaviera spoke looking up at Andrei through thick lashes and licking her lips.

“Y'know you look hot with a cigarette hanging out of those soft lips…” the wolf whispered, leaning in close to her face blowing smoke directly at her and capturing it in a kiss. He savored his favorite taste of tobacco and her sweetness with a hint of left over cum in the kiss the wolf moaned. Pulling away Andrei took the cigarette from her hand only to put his down in the ashtray and finish hers, a trait of the beasts playfulness. “You shouldn't smoke.. its bad for you” he smiled.

She smiled in return and rubbed her nose on his own as animals do in affection. "I know.... That's why I gave up smoking after college." she told Andrei, looking up at him from under her eyelashes.

Andrei was breaking slowly and surly like a house with a cracked foundation and she was seeping through the cracks. He nodded “you must have a good strong will then myshka.”

Putting down the cigarette in the ash tray one of his large hands rubbed her side while the other interlocked with her small hand, watching intensity as the wolf engulfed her hand with his. Bending the top of his fingers on hers, pulling away slightly and letting her trace his tattoo. Andrei kissed her forehead, closing his eyes trying desperately to be ok with the intimacy.

“When you lived most of your life among creatures that could kill you in a matter of seconds, you have to be always careful. Never underestimate someone by appearance. That’s what my father used to tell me…” she found herself telling him.

Andrei tightened his grip on the small woman, holding her close and telling her it was ok. He too had learned the same listen; His uncle was a paranoid mess, worried of anyone and putting fear in the hearts of Andrei and his sister at a young age, that absolutely anyone could rip them apart, mentally and physically. Then the fear only grew stronger as Andrei went to the army, undercover with some of Russia’s most dangerous people, no matter that their size. He learned to not be surprised with it anymore.

Humming and listening to the vulnerability, appreciating it. “A wise man” Andrei whispered into her white hair, letting her continue and taking in her sweet smell.

Xaviera bit her lip as she was compilating if she would continue. She was so cute when she bit her lip. Tugging at the stony heart people had created for him, but the way she curled into him, and the soft soothing voice made him feel at home. Xaviera saw through his beastly ways and saw the man underneath.

“Yes, he was. He always knew what to say and how to solve any problem…If it wasn’t for him…I wouldn’t have been here today.” she tells Andrei, curling her body against his much bigger one, seeking protection and comfort in a silent way he was more than happy to provide.

Andrei pulled in a deep breath, considering to tell her his family life as well, but he paused. The wolf biting his neck forcing him into submitting but he brushed it off. Who knew if he was even going to see her again. What did it matter.

“My.. uh, my dad was killed when I was young boy, just leaving me, my uncle, sister and..” his breath hitched slightly “my mother…. but um.. she was murdered when I was 12” Andrei shifted uncomfortably with his vulnerability, but tugged her close as a form of comfort, something he did with his sister growing up.

“She must have been a wonderful and beautiful woman... My mother... S-She was killed too... A-Along with my father.” she began to tell him with a shake in her voice, a breaking predator in his large hands. “My father was killed by poachers in a trip to Africa….Me and my mother run…B-But….She saved me….Giving her life. T-They killed her too…..She hid me into the hallow of a tree….A-And after they left her body…..T-The hyneas….T-They devoured her….They ripped her face apart.” Xaviera began to cry, walls tumbling down around her and allowed Andrei to pick up the pieces.

“I had to watch until she was a mess of flesh and bones.” she choked on a sob, her face buried into his chest. “I-I was so weak.” she breathed out.

Andrei’s heart was ripping and tearing as she shook, telling him the horrors she had been through. A deep part of his soul sympathizing with her; they had both seen the mangled, broken corpses of their mothers, with a beast looming over them. Unfortunately, Andrei was the beast in his story, but he wasn’t going to tell her now, that was for a different night.

Feeling the deep sobs and broken words spilling from her sweet lips he held her strong and instinctively, wanting to protect her. “ssssh… little one…” Andrei pulled back slightly meeting her red eyes, cupping her jaw and wiping the tears away. “It was never your fault… Beasts take and take from this world with greed, no mercy… and it is no one’s fault” Andrei’s soul was reassuring himself more so than Xaviera at this point, and he glanced at his tattoo, reading it, the words ‘NO GODS’ screamed in his head. He wanted to blame god for what he did, what had happened, what he took from him, but the true danger was people. Not the beasts. There were no gods to blame.

Her gaze met his in a soft reassurance. “That’s why I hate most humans so much….Humans call animals beasts but they are the ones.” she whispered, letting the last tears fall down her cheeks. “Animals aren’t greedy, vain… They do it to survive…. Humans are conducted by their avarice.” she spoke, taking one of his big hands in both her tiny ones, bringing his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles, then her eyes drifted to the big scars on her thigh.

Fuck, she was killing him. Speaking his brutal but beautiful language. Her gentle affection was something new for him, something no one had ever shown the wolf, but he liked it, he could learn this gentle nature from her.

“I got this one from a mother Grizzly. Me and my dad encountered the cubs first and because I was young and foolish… She attacked me….. My dad saved me, but the Grizzly left a souvenir.” she spoke, looking from the claw marks to Andrei. “I learned not to be afraid of the wild animals… But also respect them. Respect what can kill you.” Nuzzling into him like a little cat.

Andrei’s eyes widened at the thought of a grizzly coming after her, she was so small but so tough. Xaviera held the quiet power of beasts within her but covered it in a gentle grace, something he was less than skilled at.

He took his free large hand and brought it down to her thigh tracing the scar like it was art, Xaviera shivered at his touch. Bringing his lips to her forehead he spoke “Well thank you for respecting me” he laughed, trying to lighten the deep moment.

She snorted and rolled her blue eyes at his smug joke, "Yes, yes. I respect you, all high and mighty Alpha Wolf." She cheekily told him, one of her fingers scratching under his chin playfully, like one would do to a dog, he just shook his head at the playful endearing energy she had.

"Just don't step on my tail or I am gonna bite your precious jewels off." she whispered against his lips, her blue eyes glinting. Andrei’s eyes went sharp again at her words, ready to pounce at her again. He took her lips in a deep kiss, grinning at the end and pulling away, sexual thoughts filling his head with the mention of her mouth being that close to his manhood.

“Go ahead and try it precious kitten” Andrei rolled Xaviera on top of him now, placing his hands on her hips for a moment until bring them to the sides of her neck, the wolf inside wanted to turn the action deadly but he inhaled and brought her down into a kiss again.

She kissed him back as he did, her small hands moving to touch his bigger ones that were rested on her neck. “I love it when you touch my neck.” Xaviera whispered into the kiss, her thumbs stroking his knuckles.

The wolf wanted to take her over and over again by the way she would speak to him, letting a fire and holding it strong within him, but he needed to relax. She was so small, so tempting, bones so easy to break under his hands.

His jaw tensed as his fingers went tighter around her throat, not enough to choke for Andrei controlled himself. “Be careful with those sweet words baby girl” he whispered back feeling her breath hitch slightly under his fingers.

"You know..... You are the only one who has ever touched my neck and survived." she whispered, looking down at him, cheeks dusted by a furious blush from their position.

His brow raised and the signature smirk came back to his face “there is still time darling” he silently laughed appreciating her wild side. Swiftly and expertly Andrei rolled her again, pinning her beneath the beast of a man. Moving close to her face, cigarette stained breath ghosting over her Andrei kissed her again leaving her breathless once one as he pulled away “Well thank you for letting me live… for now” he smirked and got up from bed going downstairs.

Grabbing the 2 mugs of hot tea Andrei surveyed the cabin one last time for potential threats, an instinct he could never lose. Making it into the bedroom Xaviera had her head buried in the pillow which made him confused, the soft side of him tugging to know what was wrong and the wolf breathing down his neck to strike while she was vulnerable.

“Everything alright?” Andrei asked putting her mug down and getting into bed with his own mug, running his hand down her shoulder.

"Yes... E-Everything is alright... Just... Thinking." she replied, avoiding his gaze at the end and nibbling on her lower lip, a blaze of blush creeping up her features.

Andrei saw that blush again, a sight he could get used to seeing. Then that lower lip bit, ugh, she was breaking him. But he just nodded and sipped his tea watching the snow fall out the windows, his soul still wanting to run free but his heart was being caged by the beautiful woman in bed with him. Another fight to be had within him.

“Thinking… about me?” Smirked turning towards her “Don’t be sly… I’m beginning to know that beautiful blush well baby girl.” he teased with the prey as she choked on the words he spoke. He was under her skin and he reeled in it.

"I-Its not like that! I mean... You were amazing and I loved every second of it... Its just.... I never shared...a moment like this." she spoke, looking down at the cup of tea in her lap.

He smiled at her innocent nature. “I’m just teasing myshka, it was a joke…” he hooked two large fingers under her chin making her look up at him. “But I was right.” He huffed only for her to glare at him, the blush still present.

“Still a knucklehead.... Don't make me throw your ass in the snow." she told him, taking a sip of her tea to hide her smile. Setting his tea down on the nightstand, the fingers under Xaviera’s chin moved along her jaw sweetly.

“And still a fierce kitten” Andrei’s fingers laced within her white hair and kissed her again. Xaviera closed her eyes as he kissed her, her tongue running along his bottom lip only to shyly start sucking on it, her eyes opened, looking into his own, challenging him slightly.

Andrei’s eyes went sharp again, “well you learn fast.” He grinned licking his canines, the hand within her hair tightened in a fist, he wasn’t gonna be that easy with her anymore. Crashing his lips against hers again roughly his tongue explored her mouth and fought with her tongue, savoring the taste. Without even looking Andrei’s one hand moved down her arm, taking the tea and reaching over her to put it on her nightstand which in turn was pinning her beneath him again. Biting her lip hard enough to draw a little blood he pulled back, knowing what the copper taste would do to him, he moved the kisses along her jaw and to Xaviera’s so sensitive neck.

"T-That's not fair... Y-You know my sensitive spots... A-And I don't know yours." the prey breathed out in a shuttering voice.

He grins against her, brushes the sharp teeth of the wolf along the delicate bruised skin he created. “A predator never just tells you their weak spot..” he pulled away looking her deep into her glimmering eyes “you of all people should know that, darling”

"I-I...." the prey stammered, blushing hot at his words.

Andrei stopped at her stammering words, she was embarrassed and shy beneath the wolf. He moved a large hand to stroke through her white locks and he rested his forehead on hers like animals show affection. “Ssshh.. little mouse… I will not hurt you.” The wolf couldn’t promise that, he knew that, but he never wanted to. She was different, she was an animal just like him.

“I-It’s alright… You know… When I was in Africa I watched as Leopards mate. The males always bite the nape of the females. Not to kill her, but to assert dominance. I suppose that goes for humans too?” she told him in a quiet voice, biting on her lower lip.

His gentle grin appeared again, she understood him even with all his teeth, he hummed at her words “You are mine.” Andrei placed his hand on the side of her neck and deeply kissed her, grinding himself against her, but quickly rolled off and pulled her close to him again. A ever fought battle of animalistic urges and a gentle side.

Xaviera nuzzled her face into his chest, and humming. "All yours, Wolfy. All yours.... Considering half my neck is blue and purple." she said with a smile.

Andrei huffed a small laugh, it was an instinct for him, a carnal desire to go for the neck and it always had been. Her words lit him up, someone accepted it for once that they were his, even if it was just until the snow stopped. Looking down at her Xaviera was beaming with pride.

“What a cute little thing” He kissed her forehead and started to absent mindedly run one of his hands along the giant scar on his chest. Her eyes drifted to the scar his sister gave him but she never pressured him and that he was grateful for.

"Little with enough venom to kill 100 Men." she said with a devilish glint in her eyes, her lips pressed against his big scar.

He smiled at the power she had in those words, she could kill poachers with her gun and arrows but she could also kill a man’s heart, even if it was locked away deep inside. Andrei’s jaw tensed in the gentle affectionate nature she presented him with, no one had kissed his scars in fear of what he might do them, but she didn’t have fear of him. He just looked down at her beautiful blue eyes through her thick lashes.

“It is time for sleep myshka” he leaned down brushing his lips against hers “.. unless you want to go again?” He grinned licking his canines.

“As much as I would love to get frisky with the big bad wolf…. I have to rest. The blizzard will stop tomorrow morning and I will have to go…hunting.” She whispered, her hand brushing against his chest up and down.

Xaviera spoke sweetly but truthfully and Andrei pulled away resting his head on the pillow, his mind finally felt at ease here in the tangled sheets but the way she was rubbing his chest was starting a fire he might not be able to control again, so the wolf roughly grabbed her wrist and spoke “you might want to stop doing that then.. or else I’m not taking your excuses.” He let go of her, controlling himself again and running a large hand down her grizzly scars and settling there.

"Got it, knucklehead." she huffed, rolling her eyes. Respecting his inner demons and roughness. She pressed a kiss under his chin. “Good night, Wolfy.” she whispered, leaning her head against his chest.

Grinning at the new nickname he closed his eyes, this was one night the trauma and memories wouldn’t come, he was safe in his own head tonight and he could finally relax. Tension ebbed from his muscles and jaw feeling himself melt into the bed and into the body next to him. “Goodnight kitten”

Even if it was just for the night, he felt at home, a relaxation he had never known.

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The winter morning sun cascaded through the old glass of the cottage, his icy blues eyes opened softly and his hand stretched out, only feeling coldness surrounding him. Andrei was alone. Then there was a the closing of the door to confirm his suspicion. Her free spirit eluded him again.

“Motherfucker-” He cursed rushing downstairs and looking out the window, she was loaded up and ready to kill. A surge of protection came over him, and unfamiliar feeling in his heart he just couldn’t place other than he needed her. She didn’t know what else these poachers were involved in like he did, one of them was in the Ukrainian special forces, one similar to Andrei but lower class.

Getting dressed in his winter camo, throwing on his military vest loaded with ammo, knives, first aid and basically anything useful to get himself out of a jam. Placing his rifle over his shoulder and lacing up his combat boots, he finally placed on his mask with a deep growl. The one last thing that made him the beast.

Stepping out into the cold winter he followed Xaviera’s tracks, leading up the mountain and twining through the forest. The wolf stalked for about two hours and that’s when he heard it a large truck approaching through the clearing just beyond the forest. He was close.

Running through the trees silently he waited, waited for her calling, the sniper rifle shots. Crouching low within the frost covered brush something he didn’t expected happened, the tires of the large truck exploded from a spike strip hidden in the snow. The little leopard knew some tricks, the wolf grinned from behind the mask.

The first man stepped out of the truck and there was a sudden crack. The sniper rifle. “Xaviera” His trained ears perked as he listened to the sound and the vibrations, she was up on the ridge, hidden almost perfectly among the terrain, white hair flowing perfectly into the snow.

His icy blue eyes fell on the man who was bleeding lifelessly in the snow, the hot crimson melting the ice around him. The wolf’s eyes dilated and he growled with the second crack on the gun. His skin was crawling eagerly, his muscles stiffened and his mouth watered. Andrei tried to shake it off but the desire burned too hot.

Andrei... Breathe... If you go out there you will get her killed... Breathe... Wait..

So the wolf waited and watched from the trees, blue eyes sharp on the woman coming down the ridge closing in on the truck. He breathed. He contemplated showing himself, but her job wasn’t done yet and he could ruin it all. Xaviera broke the lock of the truck and opened the heavy doors with a large metal squeak falling into the forest.

There was her prize, a beautiful large snow leopard leaped out of the truck majestically, shaking its fur and running off just to the right of the wolf, they shared a quick glance at each other. It was a look of respect. Two different predators, one now free while the other was protecting, heart still chained to the woman by the truck.

Suddenly the wolf felt the hair on his neck stand and instinctively his muscles tensed, whipping his head to watch Xaviera. Something wasn’t right. A man appeared behind her. The wolfs eyes were dark, and sharp as the man grabbed her. His prey was slammed against the truck forcefully and she screamed in pain, that was a sound only the wolf wanted to make her make. No one else. She was his.

The wolf stood tall, imposing and threatening. Stalking through the bushes he heard the man talking to her but it was muffled by the blood rushing and the heart that pounded strongly within the wolf. A harsh breath left her sweet mouth as the man kicked her in the ribs. His jaw tensed, muscles flexed and contorted. Each footstep his anger grew and the snow seemed to melt under his fiery path.

This was the man from the special unit force Andrei knew well. Another shriek of pain cut through his ears as the man harshly pressed a boot on her ankle. His prey with downed and the wolf was going to take what was his. The sight of blood in the snow and dripping down his prey fueled the fire beneath the skin. He couldn't hold back the wolf any longer from its true power. It was over. Andrei was gone.

"... I know what you might be useful for" The man was on top of her now, speaking confidently, the prey cried as his disgusting hands ran along her thighs. Along his prey. She reared her head back looking to scream but there was no need, the wolf knew what to do. She was his.

The wolf lunged. Full power of broad shoulders and hard muscles. Teeth bared and claws out he tackled him off her. The man got to his feet but the wolf had power and speed, thrusting a hard fist right into his nose with a crack. The blood poured but it wasn't enough. He stepped onto his territory. Pulling the knife from his holster as the man stumbled back, the wolf stabbed into the flesh with a squelch, and twisted knife sadistically in the thigh wanting to hear the scream of pain. His desire still burned as the man dropped into the snow and the Russian pulled out the blade. He admired the oozing and flowing of the blood.

He wasn't done. He needed want was his. Towering above the man he kneeled on him, pressing his knee onto the delicate ribcage that seemed to crack with ease. The noise made goosebumps form along his skin as his large rough hands pressed around the man's throat. Squeezing and waiting.

Wait.... Wait for it.... Be grateful for the hunt... Wait for the end... It will come... It always does...

The man beneath him thrashed and writhed. Gasping and clawing. Managing to push the wolfs mask down only to have him mimic the teeth pattern. A full snarl infusing fear into the man's heart. The wolf could see it in his eyes. The precious tender fear, he was a master of. He was close. So close to the end as the prey stopped his attempt at life and accepted his death in between the jaws of the wolf. The last look was ecstasy. A sweet and yet bitter taste on his tongue as the soul departed beneath the wolf. He was gone. He took what was his in the snow.

As the pluse under his claws went flat, the attention was put on his other prey. His different type of prey. Dark eyes met her wide icy blues. Andrei was screaming not to dare to touch her but the wolf wanted more. Needed more. The prey swallowed down roughly, breathing slowly as the wolf was hunched and teeth were displayed. She didn't move. A smart one. He wanted to devour her fear but he pulled away and placed his attention back the corpse beneath him.

He wasn't done.

He came into his world and touched what was his. Spilled the blood that was his. He wanted more.

Standing, the wolf towered, large and strong he dragged the body away. Taking his kill how and where he wanted, and stalked into the snowy forest. His rage carrying the wolf where it pleased.

Seeing a strong, sharp broken branch on a pine tree, it seemed to suit the wolfs fancy. Lifting the man with ease and impaling him on the branch in a show of pure raw strength. In an animalistic urge he needed to see everything, hear everything and smell everything. The wolf stripped the prey as he hung. Checking for weapons and ammo that would please him.

The hot blood still oozing from his thigh, the desire ached for more. The wolf grabbed his blade again from his vest and in a swift motion he stabbed the prey in his chest, right in the middle and pulled down strongly to his navel. The hot crimson spraying on the wolf, he tasted it, savoring it sickly as he took the knife out. Intestines fell and melted the snow at his feet. The white ice turned a deep scarlet as the night fell. The metallic smell assaulted the wolfs senses, feeding every desire perfectly. He was grateful for this hunt tonight. He could do as he pleased.

With 2 hands the wolf tore the preys torso open, the sound of squelching entrails and flesh ripped through the forest, signaling the ravens to move in around him. With a thick hand the wolf reached inside the lifeless body, reaching the spine slowly and twisting, ripping it out as the body swayed. The wolf had taken what he wanted. He took rapaciously what he thought desvered with out mercy. Protecting what was his.

Breathe... Be grateful for this hunt.... you took what you wanted.... Breathe... The world made you this way... Breathe..

A sick snarl left his lips graciously as he looked at what he did. Turning to walk away the wolf nipped at his neck one last time and he turned, whipping his knife out and brutally decapitated the prey. The body mangled and wicked left in the snow for the scavengers to eat. He had taken what was his.

The blood was thick on his coat as he marched along the snow path, marching to the cottage, a siren song calling him back, her name in his head over and over again. The wolfs eyes sharp and dangerous as he set his sets on the cottage, warm light looming in the dark cold forest. The blood steamed and billowed around him. The wolf had a hunger. Only one could fill. The trail of scarlet dripped from his canines and claws, melting in the footsteps behind him.

The wolfs weight creaked along the front steps and he slammed the door open. There she was. He's final feast for the night.

"Andrei?" The prey asked, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, she stood there as he licked the blood from his canines.

She was wearing nothing but his shirt. His smell imprinting on that beautiful flesh. The wolf growled deep and low, seeing her bruises. They weren't his bruises, not his marks. He needed her. To make her his again. A carnal desire burned in his core. This would be a different hunt. A different end.

#my writing #NOW THIS IS BRUTAL ANDREI.. WOLF ANDREI #horror #slasher #slashers #oc #ocs #Andrei Kulokova #Xaviera Lah-Mo #Andrei x Xaviera

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horrorslashergirl · 3 years

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Hunter meeting Hunter

A Xaviera Lah-Mo and Andrei Kulokova Story Chapter 4

Authors Note: God, I love writing for these two so so much. It’s like writing the scrpt of a woman for the big screen. So many things going on in this chapter; pasts are reavealed little by little, feelings get stronger and things get angstier as we read the journey of a wolf and snow leopard.

Xaviera Lah-Mo belongs to me

Andrei Kulokova belongs to @the-slasher-files

Warning: 18+ because there is murder, death and gore, plus some teasing between our animals. Just a heads up.

Words: 5.2k (Seriously, it was supposed to be shorter, but oh well....Time sure flies when you write)

Chapter 1 HERE

Chapter 2 HERE

Chapter 3 HERE

Xaviera was hugging the pillow to her chest, her usual ice-cold eyes always calculating everything, now a calm warm blue, gazing at the Russian, millions of thoughts crossing her mind after what happened between them; the strong smell of sweat and sex still persisting in the room.

She nibbled on her bottom lip nervously, feeling so small next to the behemoth of a man next to her in bed; that surge of protection overcoming her from his part. A soft sigh left her lips as one of Andrei's hands ran down her soft naked shoulder, his other hand lightening a cigarette. His gaze was forward, blowing a cloud of smoke, then his eyes drifted back over to her.

"So...How was your first time?" he asked, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Everything you wanted it to be?" he pressed on, a drop of smug masculinity evident in his rough voice.

Xaviera didn't fantasize about what her first time would be like; she was always so erupted into her researches, hunting, and studies that the prospect of sharing such a deep and intimate act never crossed her mind, and if she did try to picture her first time, there was always a blank spot, just a shadow, because she had never met someone to reach her standards.

Call her vain, because she was a picky individual, but that's how it goes into the animal mating process too. Females don't just mate with any desperate male in a rut; some have to prove themselves worthy in brutal fights that lead to one male dying.

She remembers one time while in Himalaya how the yaks were fighting for the right to mate. It was like two tanks were smashing against each other, one which ended up with an almost fatal wound, and when he tried to get close to the female she turned her back to him. Not worthy.

Getting back to where she was, she hummed at the Russian's question, enjoying his touch on her sweat-covered skin.

"Mhmmm....Always pictured that my first time would be with a wolf. I guess I am more fond of feral beasts." she replied with a cheeky glint in her eyes.

Andrei gave a little huff of laughter at the cheeky side of her personality.

"Well, aren't you lucky." he commented with a smirk.

Her eyes drifted from his eyes to his cigarette. It's been so long since she smoked. The white-haired woman remembers how she used to smoke one pack of them during her time in college when she had tons of exams and finals.

After the small pause of silence between them, she noticed that he noticed that she was gazing at his cigarette. He took a drag and blow the smoke close to her face, the strong smell of tobacco filling her lungs, reminding her of the years in college, days and nights studying the creatures that she now lived close by, not close enough to kill her, but close enough to shot the poachers and for the predators to finish the job.

"Would you like one?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, making her ears perk up at his question and she nodded, taking one and lighting it up, taking a deep drag, her eyes closing as she exhaled smoke, her muscles relaxing more.

She sighed contently.

"Haven't smoked since college. Sleepless nights full of studying." she spoke, her eyes looking up at him, licking her lips nervously, feeling like a little school girl who got in bed with one of the last year's ones.

It was like a fresh breath of air like she was in the highest place of the mountains.

"Y'know you look hot with a cigarette hanging out of those soft lips..." he whispered, leaning in close to her face, blowing smoke directly at her and capturing it in a kiss, moaning into her mouth. She blushed at his comment and closed her eyes, savoring the foreign feeling, but it didn't last long for he pulled away, taking the cigarette from her hand and putting his down in the ashtray, only to finish hers.

"You shouldn't smoke...it's bad for you." he told her with a smile.

Her heart fluttered at his concern for her health. He was getting under her skin. She smiled in return and rubbed her nose on his own as animals do in affection.

"I know...That's why I gave up smoking after college." she told Andrei, looking up at him from under her eyelashes.

"You must have a good strong will then myshka." he spoke, putting down the cigarette in the ashtray.

One of his large hands rubbed her side while the other interlocked with her small hand, watching her with intensity. He pressed his lips to her forehead and closing his eyes.

Xaviera's lips twitched into a smile at his gentle side, something that really surprised her in such a good way, considering how much he had infuriated her.

"When you lived most of your life among creatures that could kill you in a matter of seconds, you have to be always careful. Never underestimate someone by appearance. That's what my father used to tell me..." she found herself telling him.

A vulnerable side was peaking from under the long hair locks, one of a little girl that was as vulnerable as thin ice; a little girl that the death of her parents was forever imprinted in the darkest corners of her mind; one of them which was devoured by hyenas.

Xaviera felt the Russian's grip on her tighten, holding her close and telling her it was alright. He was tense too.

He hummed, listening to her.

"A wise man." he whispered into her hair, and she felt the need to continue, the ice slowly cracking and she was afraid she would sink into the freezing water underneath.

Xaviera bite her lower lip, a bitter feeling forming in the back of her throat, but nodded at his words.

"Yes, he was. He always knew what to say and how to solve any problem...If it wasn't for him...I wouldn't have been here today." she tells Andrei, curling her body against his much bigger one, seeking protection and comfort in a silent way.

"My.....uh, my dad was killed when I was young boy, just leaving me, my uncle, sister and..." he begins to tell her, his breath hitching slightly.

"My mother.....but um...she was murdered when I was 12." he finishes, shifting a little, probably uncomfortable with being so open to her, but she couldn't blame him, she knew how hard it was to speak of the deceased loved ones.

He pulled her closer and she guessed he needed comfort as much as she needed it too.

The small woman had listened to each of his words and she noticed the anxiety dripping from his voice; no wonder he was like this, the things he must have gone through. Her hand rested on his chest, where his heart was. She felt something inside her crawl; maybe the feminine empathy?

She always had a soft spot for scarred beasts.

"She must have been a wonderful and beautiful woman......My mother....S-She was killed too....A-Along with my father." she began to tell him, voice cracking little by little along with the ice; she swallowed down and continued.

"My father was killed by poachers in a trip to Africa....Me and my mother run...B-But....She saved me....Giving her life. T-They killed her too.....She hid me into the hallow of a tree....A-And after they left her body.....T-The hyneas....T-They devoured her....They ripped her face apart." at this point she couldn't hold back the tears, the bitter taste too strong and the ice shattered underneath her, the cold water enveloping her body.

She clung to Andrei's form, letting the tears fall.

"I had to watch until she was a mess of flesh and bones." she choked on a sob, her face buried into his chest.

"I-I was so weak." she breathed out.

She felt his strong arms wrap around her, holding her in an instinctive form of protection.

"Sssssshh....little one...." he cooed, pulling back a little to look into her red eyes from crying, cupping her jaw, and wiping the tears away.

"It was never your fault...Beasts take and take from this world with greed, no mercy...and it is no one's fault." he tried to assure her and slowly she relaxed her, little by little she could feel her sobbing stop, all thanks to Andrei's soothing voice, something she would have never guessed she would love to hear, considering how the first day with him was.

Her gaze moved up to his face.

"That's why I hate most humans so much....Humans call animals beasts but they are the ones." she whispered, letting the last tears fall down her cheeks.

"Animals aren't greedy, vain... They do it to survive.... Humans are conducted by their avarice." she spoke, taking one of his big hands in both her tiny ones, bringing his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles, then her eyes drifted to the big scars on her thigh.

"I got this one from a mother Grizzly. Me and my dad encountered the cubs first and because I was young and foolish... She attacked me..... My dad saved me, but the Grizzly left a souvenir." she spoke, looking from the claw marks to Andrei.

"I learned not to be afraid of the wild animals... But also respect them. Respect what can kill you." she whispered, nuzzling his hand as a cat would do to its owner.

She noticed his eyes widen at her story; probably a little shocked that a Grizzly got so close to her, but she guessed anyone would have the same reaction. The shocked look quickly disappeared from the Russian, taking his free large hand and bringing it to the scars, tracing the claw patterns like it was a canvas, a picture worth a thousand words, a story that could have had a tragic and brutal end.

She shivered at his touch, the gesture going to such a spiritual intimacy. He really was getting under her skin. His lips pressed again on her forehead.

"Well, thank you for respecting me." he laughed lightly, all the tension in the room vanished at his attempt at making a joke.

She snorted and rolled her blue eyes at his smug joke; again all high and mighty.

"Yes, yes. I respect you, all high and mighty Alpha Wolf." she cheekily told him, one of her fingers scratching under his chin playfully, as one would do to a dog. He was amused by her playful demenour.

"Just don't step on my tail, or I am gonna bite your precious jewels off." she whispered against his lips, her blue eyes glinting in a feline-like amusement.

His eyes went sharp again at this, smashing his lips on hers in a deep kiss, grinning at her surprised self.

"Go ahead and try it, precious kitten." he challenged her, rolling her small body on top of his, making Xaviera squeak, her legs tensing when she felt his hands on her hips until he brought them to her neck, her most sensitive part. She let out a soft mewl, the skin still sensitive from all the bite marks he left.

He took a deep breath and pulled her into another kiss. She felt herself blush at his actions and words, despite the fact that they fucked just a few minutes ago. He just managed to bring out the fire in her.

She kissed him back as he did, her small hands moving to touch his bigger ones that were rested on her neck.

"I love it when you touch my neck." she whispered into the kiss, her thumbs stroking his knuckles.

She saw his jaw tense and internally she smirked, knowing that he was affected by her as much as she was by him. His grip on her neck tightened, not enough to choke her, but enough for her pulse to pick up in anticipation and her breath to hitch.

"Be careful with those sweet words baby girl." he whispered back.

This was a reminder that this wasn't a company dog.... He was a feral wolf. An apex predator, who could easily crush her tiny neck under rough, large hands.

"You know... You are the only one who has ever touched my neck and survived." she warned, looking down at him, cheeks dusted by a furious blush from their position.

He raised an eyebrow at her word, his signature smirk coming back on his face, canines on display.

"There is still time, darling." he laughed, appreciating her wild side and also amused by it.

Before she knew it, she was underneath the beast of a man, kissing her again only to leave her a breathless mess as he pulled away.

"Well, thank you for letting me live.... for now." he gave her a smug smirk, getting up from the bed and marching downstairs.

After he left, she didn't realized she was holding her breath, touching her neck and feeling the bitemarks, something inside her purring.... Like a Snow Leopard who just got mated.

Xaviera groaned at that thought. The Russian was going to be her weakness, although sometimes she really wanted to kick his ass in the snow for being such a knucklehead..... A very handsome and wild and passionate and big....

She huffed, burring her face into the pillow.

God, she was turning into a sappy mess.

She was pulled from her lovestruck thoughts by the rough voice, a tint of softness there.

"Everything alright?" Andrei asked, coming back to the bedroom with two mugs of hot tea, putting her mug down, and getting into bed with his own mug, his free hand running down her shoulder.

The Snow Leopard tensed at his touch and the feline felt an uncontrollable blush creeping up her neck and cheeks, looking at him. She felt like a little girl with a crush.

"Y-Yes.... E-Everything is alright... Just....Thinking." she replied, trying to avoid his gaze at the end, bitting on her lower lip.

The Russian just sipped on his tea, watching the snowfall out the windows, then he smirked.

Xaviera took the cup of tea, sipping on the delicious aroma and the warmness, then she almost choked on his following words.

"Thinking.... about me?" he asked, looking at her amused.

"Don't be shy...I'm beginning to know that beautiful blush well, baby girl."

He was reading her like an open book. Coughing, she looked at him, not able to control her blush.

"I-It's not like that! I mean... You were amazing and I loved every second of it... it's just.... I never shared.... a moment like this." she spoke, looking down at the cup of tea in her lap.

She saw from the corner of her eyes, him smiling.

"I'm just teasing, myshka, it was a joke..." he spoke, hooking two large fingers under her chin, her eyes on his.

"But I was right." he huffed, only for her to glare at him, the blush still present.

"Still a knucklehead... Don't make me throw your ass in the snow." she told him, taking a sip of her own tea to hide her smile.

Andrei put his tea down on the nightstand, his fingers moving along her jaw sweetly.

"And still a fierce kitten." his fingers moved up her jaw, only to lace within her white hair and kiss her again.

She closed her eyes as he kissed her, her tongue running along his bottom lip only to shyly start sucking on it. Her eyes opened, looking into his own, challenging him slightly. His sharp eyes looked into her.

"Well, you learn fast." he grinned, licking his canines, the hand in her hair tightening into a fist, making her gasp, only for the wolf to take the opportunity and show his tongue inside in a sloppy kiss, making her moan. Her heart fluttered at his words. She felt his hand take the cup of tea from her hand, setting in on the nightstand on her side and she found her back flush against the mattress with him on top of her.

She jumped a little when he bites her lip, hard enough to draw a little blood, then he pulled away, moving down to kiss her jaw and neck. She moved her head back, exposing more of her neck in submission.

"T-That's not fair.... Y-You know my sensitive spots... A-And I don't know yours." she breathed out in a shuttering voice.

She felt him grin against her neck, his k9's brushing against her bruises that he created.

"A predator never just tells you their weak spot..." with that he pulled away and she felt herself sink in the mattress at the way he was gazing down at her.

"You of all people should know that, darling."

Xaviera's breath hitched and she blushed at the Russian's words, feeling embarrassed. She let her guard down in front of the big bad wolf and now he had her in his jaws.

"I-I...." she was at a loss of words, something that very rarely happened to the white-haired female.

He moved his large hand through her long white hair, resting his forehead against her, just like animals show affection, something she was used from the furry feral beasts, but not from humans.

"Sssshh...little mouse... I will not hurt you." he softly spoke.

God, she felt herself melt at his touch and the way he spoke, her eyes looking up at him like a deer caught in by the big bad wolf. One of her hands moved to stroke his knuckles gently.

"I-It's alright... You know... When I was in Africa I watched as Leopards mate. The males always bite the nape of the females. Not to kill her, but to assert dominance. I suppose that goes for humans too?" she told him in a quiet voice, biting on her lower lip.

He grinned down at her, humming at her words.

"You are mine." placing his hand on the side of her neck, he kissed her deeply, a gasp leaving her when he started grinding against her, but only for a short time, because he rolled off, pulling her closer to him.

"All yours, Wolfy. All yours.... Considering half my neck is blue and purple." she said with a smile, blue eyes shining in pride as her hand touched the bitemarks.

"What a cute little thing." he kissed her forehead.

Xaviera's eyes moved along his chest, where the big scar was and she wondered how he got it, but she knew, he was just like her, not wanting to be pressured in telling.

"Little with enough venom to kill 100 men." she replied with a devilish glint in her eyes, her lips pressing against his big scar, feeling him tense.

"It's time for sleep myshka...." he leaned down, brushing his lips against hers.

"Unless you want to go again?" he grinned, licking his canines.

Xaviera chuckled quietly at his impressive stamina, her lips brushing his canines.

"As much as I would love to get frisky with the big bad wolf.... I have to rest. The blizzard will stop tomorrow morning and I will have to go...hunting." she whispered, her hand brushing against his chest up and down, only for him to roughly grab her wrist.

"You might want to stop doing that then... or else I'm not taking your excuses." he warned her, his other hand moving to her scar on her thigh, just resting it there.

Xaviera knew he was like a bomb ready to combust any moment so she let him win this time.

"Got it, knucklehead." she huffed, rolling her eyes, and she couldn't stop smiling.

She pressed a kiss under his chin.

"Good night, Wolfy." she whispered, leaning her head against his chest, her eyes closing as he continued to brush his hand across her scar.

"Good night, kitten." he whispered, sleep enveloping her.

========================================

It was like she had an internal clock, because as soon as it was early morning and the snowing stopped, her eyes slowly opened looking out the window. Her eyes drifted from the outside scenario to the man in bed with her. It was the first time she saw him sleep and he looked so peaceful.

Slowly, with feline-like stealth, she moved from the bed and out of the bedroom, her eyes on him the entire time, until she was out of the room and downstairs, starting to dress up, putting on her white and cream winter coat, the white fur on the hood so soft, it always kept her warm.

Getting all her weapons; the venomous small arrows, the sniper rifle and her mountain backpack on she moved towards the exit. She knew it was probably bad to leave, but she preferred to go on huntings solo.

Exiting the cottage, she stalked towards the path, her gaze moving to her map in hand, already starting to calculate distance, route. It took her two hours to reach the destination. The poachers were going to arrive in half an hour if she calculated everything right, which she always did. Setting her backpack down, she opened it, getting out a wire of spikes, similar to the ones cops use to stop vehicles.

She planted it right in front of the path that the poachers will drive by, masking it in snow, then moving into an isolated spot, basking herself in the whiteness of nature, sniper rifle in hand, and just waiting, exactly like a predator.

Her ears instantly perked up as she heard the sound of the engine in the distance, muscles tightening in anticipation as she was the truck get closer, knowing what was inside. She licked her lips as they approached.

20 seconds....

Her finger hovered over the trigger of her sniper rifle, waiting.

10 seconds....

She knew that she had to be quick in her moves; no hesitation.

5 seconds....

Her pupils dilated like that of a snow leopard, ready for the kill.

The sounds of tires exploding meet her ears, looking through the lens of the sniper; eyes on the passager door as it opened, one man exiting the vehicle, only to fall down as the bullet hit him right in the neck, blood starting to coat the white snow underneath him.

First one dead. Two more to go. Another man exited the vehicle with a shotgun in hand, looking for her. She smirked, knowing he will never be able to spot her; it was like searching for a crystal sugar in the snow. She pressed the trigger, aiming for his heart, his body falling next to the other dead poacher.

Now the driver. She was itching to kill the last one, but he was hesitant to get out.

'Come on, little shit. Come to mama.'

He did peek his head out the window. Big mistake; it was enough for Xaviera to shot him straight in the middle of his forehead. She grinned, then moved from her hiding spot, marching towards the back of the vehicle, a big door with a locker. Setting her backpack down, she got the bolt cutter, getting the lock on the metal door off.

Her hands tugged on the handle, the sound of metal against metal echoing in the forest as the small woman opened the door; a set of four white paws meeting the snow.

It was a snow leopard, shaking his white and grey thick fur, happy to be free. Xaviera smiled as the animal runoff, disappearing into the covered snow forest like a ghost.

The moment of calmness and pride was quickly taken away when Xaviera felt immense pain shooting through her scalp as someone yanked her head back, her eyes widening as the person behind her smashed her head against the side of the truck, only to throw her on the ground.

"So, you are the Mountain Ghost I've been hearing about. I thought it was going to be someone...bigger." the voice was unfamiliar and her vision was blurry.

She tried to get up, only to feel a kick at her ribs, making her stumble, choking on her breath. How could there be another one? She had stalked and observed them for such a long time, calculating everything by numbers and seconds.

"You think you can just go around and steal our prizes?" the man spat, his foot coming to press harshly against her ankle, making her scream.

She was ready to get her venomous darts from her small bag inside her winter jacket, only to have her face pressed in the snow.

"Keep your venom to yourself." the man spoke in her ear, then turned her around, snatching the darts and throwing them so she couldn't reach the weapons.

This was bad, so bad. She wasn't built for close contact combat, especially when it came to life or death. Like a cheetah, she was fast but sadly lacked the strength.

Xaviera could feel blood dripping down from her temple, her hands trying to scratch him, pierce his eyes, anything so she could get away from under him and run. A fist to her eye was all that the man needed to make the fierce feline, drop her hands.

"Keep your claws to yourself, bitch!" the man yelled, looking over her, then smirked.

"You made me lose that Snow Leopard. Someone paid huge cash for its fur." he spoke, making Xaviera glare at him despite the position she was in.

"But....I know what you might be useful for." the way he said that made Xaviera's stomach twist in such an unpleasant way that she wanted to throw up and when she felt his hands on her thighs, she felt tears form at the corner of her eyes.

She was ready to scream, but the weight on top of her disappeared, the sound of fighting meeting her ears. Her blue eyes opened, looking up at the sky. Her gaze moved to the ground and she felt her breath hitch at the scenario before her.

It was Andrei. He saved her. That made the horrible feeling she had before disappear, relieved that he was here. It was obvious that the Russian had the upper hand, much bigger than the poacher and certainly more experienced by the combat skills he put on a demonstration on the other male.

A sickening crunch meets the woman's ears as Andrei delivered a straight punch on the man's nose, blood coating half of his face. It was like watching two male animals fighting for territory, and Xaviera saw plenty of brutal fights between males for territory, food, and the right to mate. She knew that these types of fights ended up with someone dead.

In one swift movement, the Russian grabbing the handle of his knife, taking the blade out of its holster, and stabbing the poacher right in his tight, twisting the blade inside. The scream echoed through the forest and all Xaviera could do was to watch as Andrei took the knife out, blood splashing on the snow as the man dropped down, not dead yet.

Big large hands wrapped around the wounded man's neck, as tight as possible, and the woman watched as the Russian strangled the poacher, his arms trying to inflict pain on Andrei, but it was all useless, the winner already decided the moment the knife impaled in his thigh.

The poachers' arms dropped down, breathing stopped and he was dead. Xaviera sighed relieved, only for her to freeze as his gaze slowly moved to her form.

His eyes, the usual icy blue were almost black, pupils blown wide and lips pulled into a snarl, canines on display, exactly like a very dangerous wolf. Xaviera had encountered this look many times in her life on animals, but never on humans. She swallowed down, knowing not to make harsh or fast moves, it might trigger him and God knows what will happen.

Running would be the most foolish thing to do, so she just sat there in the snow, making herself as invisible as possible.

After what seemed like forever, he turned his predatory gaze from her to the dead poacher and Xaviera watched as he dragged the corpse into the forest, disappearing.

She couldn't believe what she just saw. Slowly, she got up, groaning a little as she stumbled, catching herself on the side of the truck. Her ankle wasn't broken, but it stung a bit. With a sigh, she began to walk towards her cottage, getting her sniper rifle, arrows and backpack first.

At the time she reached the cottage, it was close darkening. She left her weapons down, then quickly started the fire; it was freezing inside. She watched as the flames took form, rubbing her cold hands in front of the fireplace.

Getting her jacket off after it was warm inside, the rest of her clothes followed to get clean and warm ones. She pulled on a big black shirt and she groaned as she felt blood drip down the side of her face.

She got her first aid-kit, starting to treat her wounds. They were nothing serious, but it sure wasn't good to leave them like this. She hissed as she cleaned the wound on her temple, glad that she wouldn't need to be stitched. Looking in the mirror, she noticed how under her felt eye blue and purple color started to form.

She was glad that the poacher hadn't broken her ribs, that's the last thing she needed in times like this.

She cursed under her breath, feeling so stupid that she was so reckless. It almost costed her life, but she was glad that the snow leopard was free; at last, she achieved the goal of the mission. She wondered where Andrei was. He still hadn't come and it was almost midnight.

Xaviera knew he was a hard knucklehead and could take care of himself, but not with wild animals with 5 inches of canines and jaws that can crush bones.

The white-haired woman closed her eyes as she felt the heat of the flames lick her naked legs, wrapping her arms around herself only to smell a faint tint of tobacco. Blue eyes looked down at herself and she blushed.

She must have gotten one of the Russian's shirts in her dizzy haste to change clothes. Getting up from the couch, she was ready to pull it off, only for the loud bang on the front entrance door to meet her ears.

The woman looked in said direction, feeling a gust of very cold wind brush her bare legs, making her shiver slightly.

"Andrei?" Xaviera asked, ready to take a step forward, only to freeze like a deer in the headlights at the man in the doorway.

Scarlet blood dripped down his arms and hands, eyes looking like that of a primal beast ready to tear flesh and muscles with his canines. A deep and scary growl meet her ears and she swallowed down, feeling her heartbeat in her throat.

She had seen something like this before, only......It was an animal, a big black wolf. It was during a trip in the forest at night and she saw the scene. The black animals' jaws around the deer's neck, ripping the artery and throat off.

Xaviera couldn't help, but the first time she truly felt like prey; the one that is being hunted down.

CLIFFHANGER.......

#Xaviera Lah-Mo #Andrei Kulokova #Andrei x Xaviera #Slasher OCs #Killer OCs #story time #Original characters

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catfe-overlord · 4 years

Text

“Feral”

Part 1

A whumpy, angsty, probably (in the next chapters) going to be pretty fluffy KiriBaku fanfic by me !

::In which Bakugou is hit by a quirk that makes him go straight beast mode, and Kirishima is the only one who can even hope to protect his friend from himself::

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Oi! Don’t fuckin’ shove me, Shitty Hair!”

Kirishima only brightened at the way Bakugou acknowledged him. He found it to be endearing. Early in their friendship, Kirishima would’ve thought his friend meant it, but by now he knew perfectly well that it was all part of Bakugou’s personality. He said all these shitty things but he didn’t mean it, not really.

“We don’t want to keep the others waiting!” the red-haired hero-in-training complained. “And here I thought you were the most punctual guy I knew.”

“Tch, I’m on time when I wanna be,” Bakugou muttered. He slung his shopping bag over his shoulder and straightened as Kirishima continued to pull on his free arm in a poor attempt to get the boy to move faster.

The two boys had come to the mall with a few other classmates for a little therapeutic shopping to get their minds off the recent battle. Bakugou originally said no, but after Kirishima asked him to tag along, the explosive boy grumpily agreed. Everyone split up into smaller groups after agreeing to meet up for lunch at noon, leaving the two alone to do their own window shopping.

Kirishima bought a cool red sweatshirt and a new pair of crocs since his old ones were getting pretty worn out. He stocked up on hair dye and his favorite gel too. Bakugou bought a new pair of sound-dampening headphones, saying something like I have to drown out all the stupid noise you idiots make all the damn time.

The restaurant was a short walk from the mall, only a couple blocks south. It was everyone’s favorite curry restaurant, the one they almost regularly met up at. The door jingled as they entered, and Uraraka waved from a big round table in the back corner.

“Hey, guys!” Iida said pleasantly as they approached, then stood to greet the two. “Glad you could join us for a meal. We’ve taken the liberty of ordering your drinks. I hope neither of you mind.”

“Kacchan, I ordered you a chai tea,” said Midoriya shyly. “I-I remember you liked those in middle school.”

Kirishima knew this was true. Bakugou almost always ordered chai tea with his lunch when they went out. Bakugou didn’t thank the green-haired boy though, which was to be expected. The blond made a sound from the back of his throat similar to a growl before taking one of the two open seats beside Uraraka, leaving the one beside Ashido open for Kirishima.

Ashido was twirling her fingers through her pink hair. “I ordered you a coffee, Eijiro. Black, like you like it.”

Kirishima beamed. “Thanks, Mina!”

Everyone talked about school and their families, no one mentioning the recent fight against Shigarake. It was too soon, and everyone still had wounds left to heal, whether physical or mental. Bakugou was mostly quiet, which was to be expected, other than the occasional SHUT UP, DEKU, YOU DAMN NERD! or MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS, PIKACHU. When the server took everyone’s orders, he’d said, “I want the spiciest curry you have.” Kirishima winced.

They left the restaurant satisfied, bellies full of their favorite curry, and everyone headed back to their dorms together. Bakugou and Kirishima followed from the back of the group, listening to the chatter of their classmates.

When Kirishima noticed the scowl on Bakugou’s face was deeper than usual, he elbowed his friend’s side. “Hey, something up, man? You don’t seem like yourself.”

Bakugou glared, red eyes meeting crimson. “OF COURSE I SEEM LIKE MYSELF, WHO ELSE WOULD I SEEM LIKE?!”

Kirishima chuckled. “No, I mean you just seem a little lost in your own head. Something on your mind?”

Bakugou looked ahead and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kirishima rushed a few feet ahead and turned in a one-eighty, walking backwards so Bakugou would have no choice but to look at the red-head. “I get it if you don’t want to talk right now. Just know I’m always here to listen, alright? If something’s bothering you and you need to get it off your chest, I’m around.”

Bakugou pursed his lips. He knew Kirishima was a persistent bastard and wasn’t going to back down until he was satisfied, so Bakugou offered him a small nod. Whether he’d take him up on his offer, Kirishima wasn’t sure. Probably not, but even he could appreciate the gesture.

Suddenly, there was a loud cry for help from somewhere ahead. Everyone was on red alert, ready to leap into action, with or without their hero costumes and support items.

They raced ahead two blocks, only to find absolute chaos around the corner. Vehicles were crashed and left abandoned as people swarmed, everyone running for their lives but no one seemed to know which way to go. Kirishima couldn’t figure out what was causing the commotion.

Midoriya and Uraraka started corralling people, slowing them down just long enough to get the scoop on the situation. Iida was contacting the authorities while Ashido called Aizawa for backup. Bakugou shook himself out of his stupor before Kirishima managed it, pulling him forward to do their part and help out the scene before them.

“They’re crazy!” Kirishima overhead a man explaining to Midoriya. “That woman leapt onto my car and started smashing in my windshield. She would’ve killed me!”

“—He was a monster,” a woman was saying to Uraraka. Her voice was shaky, maybe in shock. “H-he was like a feral beast.”

“Do you know which way the villains went?” Midoriya asked. The man pointed down the street.

That was enough answer for Bakugou. He blasted off in that direction, leaving Kirishima to catch up. He wasn’t nearly as fast as the blond, but Kirishima was a pretty good runner. He wasn’t too far behind Bakugou when he finally reached his classmate.

Bakugou was standing in front of a woman, a wild look in her eyes. She looked terrified for her life. Her blouse was torn, but she didn’t seem to be hurt. She was attempting to explain what happened.

Then her eyes caught Kirishima, and her posture changed. She looked angry. In hardly a split second, she pecked a kiss on Bakugou’s cheek and moved to take off like a bullet. Bakugou was fast though, and he managed to catch her by the elbow before she could manage her escape.

But he stiffened then. Kirishima couldn’t see his face, but even from behind it looked as though something passed through him. The woman slipped out of his grasp and was gone.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima cried, knowing something was definitely off by the strange posture. “Bakugou, what’s wrong?”

Kirishima finally reached him, grabbing him by the shoulders and spinning him around. Bakugou swayed in his grasp but managed to stay on his feet. His eyes met Kirishima’s, and the red-head immediately noticed the size of his pupils—they were so dilated Kirishima could barely see the red of his irises. He blinked a few times, seemingly unable to focus on Kirishima.

“Bakugou? Can you hear me?” Kirishima tried, panic sending a shiver up his spine.

He gave no sign he heard his classmate. Instead, he slumped forward, crashing into Kirishima’s chest and clutching at his head like it was about to burst.

“Bakugou, please—please talk to me,” Kirishima begged.

A low growl resonated from somewhere deep in his chest. He looked up at Kirishima, his lip curled up in a snarl and brows knit, making him look angrier than Kirishima had ever seen him. That was saying something, because Bakugou was always angry. His eyes were focused now, but they weren’t his. The pupils were slit like a cat’s.

This wasn’t the Bakugou he had befriended and cared for.

Bakugou suddenly swiped his hand across Kirishima’s face, who barely managed to activate his quirk in time. His nails glanced off Kirishima’s skin, and the red head realized they weren’t just nails—they were claws. His hands had turned completely black, fingernails elongated into razor-sharp claws, and his teeth were sharpened into fangs, almost as sharp as Kirishima’s.

That woman before, the one Bakugou had been talking to—this must have been her quirk. She’d kissed his cheek, and then it was goodbye Bakugou.

H-he was like a feral beast.

Nausea tugged at Kirishima’s stomach, the curry threatening to make a reappearance. How the hell was he supposed to get Bakugou back from this? He doubted Bakugou could even understand what he was saying.

“Bakugou, please!” he tried anyway, jumping back and hardening on instinct as the explosive boy made another swipe. “It’s me, Kirishima! Your friend!”

Bakugou lunged, raking his new claws across Kirishima’s favorite shirt. Kirishima might’ve whimpered, but he couldn’t afford to care about a stupid shirt right now. He needed to help Bakugou before the boy hurt someone who didn’t have a protective hardening quirk.

Kirishima made his first advance: he threw a rock-solid fist into Bakugou’s jaw, and it collided with an ugly sound. Bakugou stumbled, but he regained his composure in mere seconds. Another growl reverberated from his throat, and Kirishima swallowed. He didn’t want to hurt his friend, but he had a feeling Bakugou wouldn’t stop until he physically couldn’t fight anymore.

“Kirishima! Bakugou!” called Iida, racing toward them from behind. “Have you apprehended any of the perpetrators yet?”

“Iida, stay back!” Kirishima cried, forcing the young Ingenium to halt in confusion. “Bakugou’s been hit by a weird quirk. He’s not himself!” He ducked out of the way of another swipe. “He’s gone feral!”

Iida moved to help, but Kirishima held up a hand to hold him back. “Let me help!”

“No!” Kirishima argued. “I can handle Bakugou. You go help the others. I’m sure Bakugou’s not the only one.”

Iida didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded and raced off toward the commotion yet ahead.

“Alright, Bakugou,” Kirishima said casually, putting his fists up like he did before all their spars. “It’s just you and me. Let’s not drag anyone else into this.”

Bakugou leapt forward, swiping those damn claws across Kirishima’s chest. His shirt was in tatters, practically falling off. His entire midsection was uncovered.

Kirishima sent another fist at his friend, but Bakugou dodged it swiftly, ducking below the swing and popping up again to wrap his hands around Kirishima’s neck.

Kirishima panicked, grasping for air and letting his guard down. His hardening faltered and Bakugou noticed. He slashed across his chest again, droplets of blood splattering on the pavement.

Kirishima cried out before he could bite his tongue. Bakugou hissed and raised his claws once more, but it was Ashido who tackled him before he could tear Kirishima open some more.

The two rolled as they hit the ground. Bakugou landed first, his head and shoulder colliding with the ground hard, but he still found the strength to get back up. Ashido gave Kirishima a hand and asked, “What the hell happened to him?”

“Some lady’s quirk,” he explained. “She’s making people into monsters. I’m not sure why, but I get the feeling it’s probably a distraction. It wouldn’t be the first time a villain caused a commotion to distract the heroes while they’re off robbing a bank or something.”

“Aizawa’s almost here,” she stated. “We’ll need to catch this lady if we want to get Bakugou back, right? Aizawa will have to use his Erasure on her, and Bakugou should go back to normal again, don’t you think?”

Kirishima hadn’t thought about that. “Yeah, Mina, I think you’re right. You go ahead and find her! I can hold Bakugou off.”

She glanced at his chest, at the blood leaking down his stomach, and a look of concern passed over her features.

“I won’t let my guard down again,” he urged. “I won’t. This isn’t the Bakugou we know. He’s sloppy. It’s like he’s in some kind of, uh, animalistic rage? Yeah, he’s not thinking or calculating any of his movements, he’s just attacking. I can beat him now.”

She swallowed, but finally nodded just as Bakugou advanced again. Kirishima hardened and blocked before Ashido could get hurt. “Go! Find her!” he yelled.

“I don’t even know what she looks like!” Ashido called back.

Kirishima threw a leg up into Bakugou’s side, who didn’t see it coming. He stumbled, but it wouldn’t hold him off long. “She was maybe in her late twenties? Shoulder length brown hair, business casual clothes, and she had this wild look in her eyes. Trust me, you’ll recognize it when you see it.”

“Right! I’m on it,” Ashido shouted and ran off toward Uraraka and Midoriya, probably to fill them in on the situation.

Bakugou leapt with both claws outstretched, going in for another attempt to strangle him, but Kirishima saw it coming this time. He caught Bakugou by the wrists and swung him around into a wall hard. He felt bad doing this to his pal, who truly wasn’t in control of his actions, but he couldn’t just stand there as Bakugou’s personal punching bag until Aizawa showed up. A real hero would subdue Bakugou before helping the others. If Kirishima could at least hold him off long enough for the others to find the perp, he’d have done his part.

“Bakugou, listen,” Kirishima tried again, knowing it was no use. “Don’t do this. You’re the strongest guy I know, and I know you can fight this! Come back to me, man.”

He had Bakugou’s back pinned to the wall, holding him down by his wrists. Bakugou hissed, totally unlike himself. He snapped his sharp teeth at Kirishima, who bared his own.

“Bakugou, listen to me!” he said in his harshest tone, staring into the boy’s slit eyes. “You’re making a fool out of yourself. Fight this! You want to be the number one hero, don’t you? Then beat this!”

Bakugou slammed his eyes shut, and a jolt passed through his body. For a few short seconds, he didn’t fight Kirishima’s hold on him. The moment didn’t last long.

Bakugou lifted his legs and threw his feet against Kirishima’s chest, kicking him with enough force that the red-head went sailing into the street. He shot out of the way just in time to avoid being hit by a bus.

“Jeez, Bakugou! Harsh much?”

He jumped at Kirishima, who recognized the move all too well. He grabbed hold of Bakugou’s arm and elbow, then threw him over his shoulder and slammed him into the ground—a move Midoriya was well-known for.

Bakugou rolled onto his hands and knees, and Kirishima could see he was shaking, though he wasn’t sure if it was from pain or if maybe the boy was fighting the quirk. Kirishima’s heart sank a little when he climbed back to his feet, but Bakugou was visibly slower than a few moments ago.

“Ki—Kiri… gah,” Bakugou managed.

Kirishima smiled. He knew Bakugou was a fighter. “You can do it, dude! You’re the strongest guy I know. Keep fighting it!”

The blond took a hesitant step toward Kirishima, who didn’t back away. He was giving Bakugou the chance to restrain himself.

With his second step, his legs buckled and he fell to his knees. “Kirishima!” he gasped, clutching at his skull. “I—I can’t... It hurts, dammit!”

Kirishima couldn’t bare to watch his best friend suffer through this any longer. He hardened and rushed forward, sinking to Bakugou’s level and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I’m here, Katsuki,” Kirishima whispered into his shoulder. “We can get through this.”

Kirishima felt a sob wrack Bakugou’s body, but the boy refused to let any tears fall. He wasn’t one to show weakness in front of his peers. Kirishima wasn’t an exception, but he would keep trying to get his closest friend to open up. Baby steps.

“Aizawa and the others are looking for the woman who did this to you right now,” Kirishima kept talking, thinking maybe that would help to calm Bakugou further. “He’ll use Erasure on her and you’ll be good as new. I promise.”

Kirishima wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, Bakugou trembling in his arms. He hoped his blond friend wouldn’t remember any of this. Bakugou would be so embarrassed. If there was anything the boy hated, it was showing weakness. Kirishima prayed Aizawa would manage to catch the woman who did this before the media found them. Bakugou had quite the reputation at this point, and he definitely wouldn’t want to be on the news looking like this.

“Awh! Look at you two lovebirds,” came Kaminari’s voice. Sero chuckled beside him. “Finally admitting your love for one another?”

“I hate to break up the bonding moment,” came Sero’s voice then, “but you know there’s a villain we’re after, right?”

Kirishima cringed when he felt Bakugou tense. He could only tighten his hold, hoping it would be enough to keep him at bay.

It wasn’t.

Bakugou shot out of his grip, Kirishima’s words lost to him. He raised his claws at the two boys, who’s faces dropped with realization.

Kirishima jumped onto Bakugou, wrapping his arms around him once more. He couldn’t let him hurt their friends. One wrong move on their part and he could actually kill them.

Kaminari must have panicked, because the next thing Kirishima knew, his entire body was filled with electricity. He could barely register the pain as the darkness creeping into his vision quickly swallowed him whole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1 of 5 ?? Not sure yet but I’ll be quick with the updates eh

Read part 2 here

Read part 3 here

Read part 4 here

Read part 5 here

Read part 6 here

Thanks for reading ! Hope you enjoyed<3

8/18/2020

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littlemisslol-fic · 3 years

Link

Summary: Eugene was raised in a world of fire and blood. He barely remembers a time before the lights went out, the Blackout, that plunged humanity into a chaotic realm of violence and desperation. It’s been ten years since the end of the world, the birth of a graveyard that wasn’t kind to those too weak to take care of themselves- and it is there that Eugene finds a kid, abandoned to the wasteland and desperately trying to return home. Varian’s unassuming, easy prey in the hard-knock world Eugene’s come to call home, so it’s with begrudging acceptance he agrees to help the kid out. Not everything is as simple as he’d believe, however, and Varian hosts a few secrets of his own. In order to survive, they’ll have to learn to trust one another- though trust is a rare commodity in a world like theirs. No one man is an island after all.

Chapter Notes: It’s the end!

Eugene hadn’t expected to wake up again.

The first thing he notices is that his mouth tastes terrible. It’s a strange thing to notice first, but really, who can blame him? There’s no real noise, but he can hear something muffled; everything sounds like it’s through a filter, or underwater. Eugene’s thoughts swim through his head, impossible to catch, it’s like trying to grab a fish with his bare hands. Infuriating.

Whatever he’s lying on is soft, warm. A bed for sure. It’s a far cry from the rough concrete he’d been splattered on before. Eugene groans, shifting and reveling in the comfort for a second, allowing himself to nearly drift off again. God, he’s tired, he could sleep for a thousand years if the pain in his left shoulder would just knock it off for a bit-

Wait.

Pain. Getting shot. Andrew.

Varian.

Brown eyes snap open as Eugene feels a sudden pulse of panic. The man shoots up into a sitting position, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder. The kid, oh shit, where’s the kid, his mind screams at him on repeat, a cacophony of thoughts piling on top of each other in a way that keeps any of them from fully making sense.

Eugene flails on the bed, his legs quickly tangling in the sheets and sending him toppling to the hardwood floor with a harsh thump. It’s agony, a fiery pain that laces from his upper shoulder and into his chest properly, but Eugene doesn’t stop to contemplate it. He’s in unknown territory, with unknown people. He’s only in his undershirt and pants- boots, gone, jacket, gone, backpack, gone.

Kid, long gone.

Shit.

Eugene’s mind brings up the image of Varian’s face, streaked with tears and blue eyes blown wide in terror, and feels himself steel. The kid needs him. Andrew’s sure to be pissed, and something tells Eugene the Saporian isn’t going to be kind about that fact. The man can’t help the feeling of anger at the brief memory of how roughly Andrew had treated Varian when he’d seen them in the same space.

Case and point, he has to get going after them, and fast.

…As soon as he figures out where the hell he is.

It’s probably not with the Saporians, Eugene can’t see them healing him after attempting to murder him. Bandits, maybe? Sometimes they liked to grab people from the wastes once they were too weak to take care of themselves, and then coerce them into repaying the kindness of saving their ass. Seems the most likely, for sure.

Eugene grumbles as he pushes himself up off the floor. He stands on shaky legs, nearly falling over from fatigue and only staying upright by clumsily grabbing at the headboard of the bed he’d been laying on. His bare feet slap against the wooden floor, making a series of loud thumps. He groans, whoever had grabbed him probably knows he’s awake now.

Eugene rolls his shoulders, wincing at the stiffness. He sends a questing hand towards the wound in shoulder, assessing. Thick, well wrapped bandages cover the wound, which stings as he touches it. It was definitely a shot at his heart, but it had hit too high. Right in the fleshy part of his shoulder sits five new stitches, expertly done from the feeling of them. He doesn’t trust it, to be honest.

A good look around the room doesn’t yield much in the way of information. He’s in a smaller room, a bedroom to be sure. It’s barren, save for the bed, a nightstand with a pitcher on it, and a table pushed against the opposite wall. There’s large windows to his left, a door to his right. Bright sunlight flows in from the window. It’s a homey enough space, warm and clean, but Eugene knows better than to trust it. A closer look at the table brings good news. Eugene grins when he catches sight of his stuff, jacket folded primly and backpack seemingly untouched from how full it still looks.

That’s… suspicious.

But not what he needs to focus on right now.

The wooden floors creak slightly as he heads towards his stuff. Eugene’s mind whirls with a million plans. First, he has to get out of the house. Second, he has to figure out where the hell he even is. Third, and the most important: he needs to find the fastest route back to Saporian territory. Andrew thinks Eugene is dead, thinks it’s safe to take Varian back to their home base, and that is an incredible advantage. Eugene knows where they’re going, knows where Varian is going to be, which makes getting the kid back leagues easier than if the Saporians had split to somewhere new out of fear of being caught.

Eugene quickly slips his boots and jacket on, ignoring the burning fire in his shoulder at the motion. Damn he’d gotten lucky, even if it meant living with an injury this bad for at least a month. The backpack follows soon enough, something of a grounding weight. Varian’s boon, he notes, is missing.

Teeth grit, Eugene turns towards the window.

If he’s a prisoner, there’s no way the door isn’t rigged. If it’s not locked, it’s a trap. Eugene cracks his knuckles, quietly moving towards the window with practiced grace. It seems whoever had bandaged him up had yet to figure out he’s still awake, another stroke of luck.

He reaches the window, a medium sized opening that’s just as well maintained as the rest of the room, and slips his hands under the wooden sill. It opens soundlessly, allowing a fresh breeze to flow through. Eugene allows himself the quick moment to let himself enjoy it, as well as the feeling of the sun on his face. It’s a warm day, probably about mid-afternoon if he’s to guess, the air crisp with the smell of apples, of all things.

It’s during this moment of reprieve, that Eugene hears growling.

A blur of grey fur comes bolting through the window and into the room, startling the man into falling backwards with a very manly shriek, thank you. His ass hits the floor with a loud thump, muffled by the sound of high-pitched snarls coming from-

“A raccoon?!” Eugene snaps, shoving the furry creature away from his face. It lands on the bed with a yowl, its beady black eyes narrowed in a glare. “What the hell-?“

The rodent snarls again, spitting and pacing on the bed. It’s weird looking, for a wild animal, its coat shiny and fluffy. It looks like it’s had baths, like it’s a pet-

Eugene’s mind suddenly makes the connection, and he throws out his hands.

“Uh, shit,” he mumbles, “What did the kid call you? R-Reggie? No, that’s stupid. Remington?”

The raccoon stops the feral act, his little head cocking as Eugene stumbles over a few more R names.

“Ruddiger!” Eugene finally shouts, snapping his fingers. At the sound of the name, the raccoon perks right up, chittering something that almost sounds like a question. Eugene sees the spark of recognition in those beady eyes though, and things quickly start to fall into place.

“You’re Ruddiger, right?” he asks, grinning when the raccoon blinks. “And you belong to Varian?”

At the kid’s name the raccoon makes an excited noise. Eugene holds out a hand, smiling when the critter pushes into his palm with a purr. The raccoon, Ruddiger, is surprisingly soft. His little eyes shut as he shoves his face into Eugene’s hand. It’s ridiculously cute. Eugene feels a small smile cross his face, scratching the animal behind his ears.

“Alright, you weird cat.” He says, “Want to tell me where the door is? I know where your human’s at.”

Ruddiger squeaks at that, eyes wide at the mention of the kid. His ringed tail perks up, swishing from side to side. Eugene also notices that one of his ears, the one towards the door perks. The raccoon looks past the man and towards the exit; Eugene only has a split second to spin around before the door to the bedroom flings open.

With a startled yell Eugene bolts backwards, putting the corner of the bed between himself and the two people who come running at him through the door. They’re two women, one holding a sword and the other swinging a frying pan like it’s a bat. All three of them scream, the women in rage and Eugene in fear.

The one with the sword gets to Eugene first, swiping at him with a fierce cry. Her dark hair swings with the motion, nearly distracting as Eugene’s forced to duck to avoid her blade. He’s made a mistake, but he only realizes that when, with a perfectly executed switch, the women reverse positions and the blond one swings her frying pan up in a wide arc. Eugene can’t avoid it, taking the hit in the chin and toppling to the floor with a grunt.

He lands hard, blood filling his mouth from a bit tongue. Before he can even move the black-haired woman has him pinned, kneeling by his head with her hands keeping him on the floor while the blond one looms over him. Eugene’s head spins, his mouth filling with the taste of copper.

Eventually his vision focuses again, snapping onto a pair of stunning green eyes. The blond woman leans over him, holding something in her hand. He blinks at it for a second, confused and probably concussed, if he’s honest, until his head finally clears.

“Where did you get this?” Blondie demands. Varian’s boon sparkles in the sunlight. When Eugene tries to get his tongue to work, she shakes it in his face and leans forward.

“I said.” Her face darkens. “Where. Did you. Get this?”

“A friend!” Eugene finally snaps, struggling against black-hair’s grip. “A friend gave it to me, okay? And he’s in trouble, so I’d really appreciate you letting me go-“

“Who.” It’s less a question and more a demand. The woman’s green eyes are stony, there’s a rage there that Eugene can’t help but fear a bit.

“A kid.” He finally relents. The blond woman is familiar, and Eugene thinks he knows where from, though he’s not stupid enough to drop Varian’s name on assumptions. “I was helping him get home, we got separated. I got shot, and the people who did it took him.”

“Was his name-” Blondie starts, but black-hair cuts her off with a hiss.

“Raps, we don’t know this guy.” She says, “He might be lying.”

That cinches it.

“It’s from Varian.” Eugene says. The two women’s heads look down at him, blondie’s- Rapunzel’s- eyes going wider than dinner plates.

“You were with Varian?!” She gasps. Before Eugene can register what’s happening, she grabs him by the shoulders and forces him to sit up, her face getting concerningly close. “Was he okay?! Where is he now?” She shakes him once; Eugene swears he can feel his brain rattle in his skull.

“I- yeah, yeah, I was with the kid!” Eugene snaps, lightly slapping at her hands. She lets go with a sheepish expression, but Eugene continues on without prompting. “He’d been running from the Saporian gang, said they’d taken him from Corona.”

“They did.” Black-hair grunts. “Right under our noses, those bastards-”

“Cass.” Rapunzel chides quietly. “Please. Let him finish.”

Eugene feels oddly self conscious under her stare, trying hard not to look into her desperate eyes. It seems that now that he’s started talking, he can’t make himself stop. The words spill out, fast and rough- though that could be the blood loss talking.

“I found Varian out in the wastes,” He says. “He’d gotten away from the Saporians, asked me to help him find his way back… well back here, I’d assume. We were close, but Andrew found us.”

“Shit.” Black-hair, Cass, hisses. “If we’d known you were coming, we could have sent help. You were only a few clicks from here.”

Eugene grunts, testing his shoulder. “They took him again,” he says. The women’s faces fall. “But I know where they’re going.”

Rapunzel perks up at that, considering. “You’d help us go get him?” She asks, and her face breaks into a smile when Eugene nods.

“I promised to get him home,” he says. “And I’m not done until I’ve kept that promise.”

Rapunzel pauses, looks Eugene over with a calculating face. “And what’s in it for you?” She asks, and he freezes. It’s like a deer trapped in headlights, Eugene being faced with the horrific reality that he might actually care. A large part of him wants to deny it, to claim profit, but… well it just wouldn’t be truthful. He thinks of the kid, of how far lying got them at the start.

“Originally it was supplies,” he finally admits. “But… I dunno, the kid’s endearing, I guess. He grew on me like a mold.”

Cass snorts, standing from the floor. “That’s our Varian.”

Rapunzel smiles, something almost sad. Her eyes focus back on Eugene, before she keeps grilling him.

“Was he okay? Did they hurt him?”

Eugene bites at his lip, not sure if the truth would help at this point, but at those pleading, green eyes, he breaks.

“He was mostly fine,” he admits. “Lot of bruises. Pale, thin. They definitely weren’t feeding him enough. I don’t know what he was like, uh, before, but the kid’s skittish. Flinches a lot, scares easily.”

Rapunzel’s face falls with every word, but Eugene can see the rage building. “They hurt him,” she hisses. Eugene nods.

“Most likely.”

He sees her jaw clench.

“They’re dead.” Cass says, placating her friend. “We find them, they’re dead. With, uh-“

“Eugene.”

“-Eugene’s help, we’ll find him. We’ll bring him home, Raps. We just have to go and get him.”

Rapunzel nods at that, looks down to Eugene again. She stands, breathing deeply, once through her nose.

“Okay.” She says, and it’s more of a war cry than Eugene’s ever heard.

She extends a hand down to him. He takes it. “They think I’m dead.” Eugene says as she pulls him to his feet. “They don’t know that I know where their base is. Or at least, close to where their base is.”

“It’s more than we had to work with before.” Cass nods. Eugene can see the way she thinks, face flipping though multiple emotions. The hand holding her sword twitches. Eugene shifts his weight on his feet looking between them.

“It’s a fair way,” He admits.

“How far?” Cass’s face is grim.

“About a week. Me and the kid have been walking at least that long, maybe a little shorter.”

Rapunzel’s face falls again, before she looks to the two of them with a fire in her eye. It’s… well it’s attractive, Eugene will admit. She’s got spunk, especially when she twirls her frying pan with a showy sense of flair and focuses on the two other people in the room.

“Well,” she says, “I guess we’d better get going.”

>>>><<<<

Varian has had… better nights.

He shudders against the cold wind of evening, back pressed firmly against a tree. It’s freezing out tonight, the last of summer’s heat slowly giving way to fall. He knows his face is set firmly into a scowl, a bitter, angry expression. Good. Varian shifts his weight a little, wincing when the thick handcuff wrapped around one of his wrists digs into his skin when the movement tugs on the thick tree root Andrew had tied him to. Varian hates that’s he’s used to it, to the feeling of iron keeping him in place like a good little pet. Varian can feel as his anger festers, sinking deeper into him.

This marks the second night since Andrew had found him, since Varian had been dragged, kicking and screaming, onto the hot air balloon he’d designed and forced to watch as the highway had disappeared over the horizon. He’d been so close to home, barely a few hours more before they would have hit Corona. If they hadn’t stopped for the night, they would have made it, and Eugene…

Varian sniffles, rubbing his sore eyes with a bare wrist. They’d taken his hoodie long ago, leaving him in nothing but a thin T-shirt. He’d thought he’d cried himself out earlier, but the thought of the man always seemed to drag more tears from him. Varian couldn’t help but feel guilty, a festering, angry thing. Eugene had helped him, had ignored what his instincts had told him in order to help Varian to get home. He’d been kind, and it killed him.

Varian feels tears drip down his cheeks. The boy blinks quickly, scrubbing at his face. He casts a worried expression towards the center of the clearing the Saporians had landed them in, where a dull fire crackles. Andrew and his cronies sit around it, unaware of their being watched. It’s late in the night, a few of them have long since gone to sleep, but Andrew and a few others stay awake to keep watch.

Varian tugs idly on the cuff, yanking it against the thick root. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t budge, the root embedded deep into the earth. He sighs, curling up under the meager safety of the tree and wiping at his red rimmed eyes. The sky above is dark, thick with clouds that hide the moon’s glow. Shadows reach towards them all with creeping fingers, choking out any light left.

Varian chances another look to the Saporians. They’re all chatting, clearly not focused on him in the slightest. They’re relaxed, easily confident that they’re safe for the evening.

Varian scowls, knowing they’re probably right.

He doesn’t have anything on him that he can use, Andrew had made sure of that, but he still had a trick or two under his belt. He manages to find a larger stick, long since split in half by the passage of time, along with a thinner twig. They’re bone dry, the summer heat sapping the moisture from the wood, so it’s in rapid succession that Varian’s able to pin the larger stick under his knee and swipe the smaller back and forth rapidly across a groove in the center. He repeats the motion as fast as he can, scraping the wood together until he can see smoke. Varian huffs out a small hah as he scoops up a few dry leaves, tipping the charred, smoking bits onto the tinder and gently blowing on it.

“C’mon,” he murmurs to himself, “C’mon.”

A small flame sparks to life. Varian nearly chokes on his gasp of excitement, dropping it to the forest floor and blowing on it again. The little fire splutters to life, catching on the dry tinder. Varian breathes a sigh of relief as it begins to grow, a tiny, flickering thing that finally offers a little heat, a little warmth. He slowly brings his hands away, intent on grabbing more fuel for the fire, when something else enters his view.

A boot comes slamming down, snuffing the fire out with a firm stomp. Varian cringes, looking up and seeing Andrew glaring down at him. The boy shrinks into himself, curling back as Andrew’s face darkens.

“Whatcha up to, buddy?” The man asks, twisting his foot firmly into the dirt. Varian feels a pulse of fear as Andrew looms over him, his back pressing against the bark of the tree. For a brief second, he finds himself longing for Eugene. He has to choke down the wave of sorrow the feeling brings right after.

“It’s cold.” Varian mumbles, refusing look up from the boot to meet Andrew’s glare. “I was-”

“Trying to escape?” Andrew asks, his face pulling down into a frown.

Varian’s breath hitches. “No!” He stutters, hands pulling up close to his chest. “No, no, I promise, I wasn’t trying to get away-”

“That’s good.” Andrew cuts him off again. Varian’s protest putters out, the boy going quiet. He tries to hide it, but his hands shake. Andrew notices, and his face splits into a smile. “You remember what happened last time you ran, don’t you? It was only a few days ago, after all.”

Varian’s breath hitches, the boy’s eyes going wide. “I…” He trails off, looking down to the earth.

Andrew’s weight shifts, the man crouching down into a squat. “Didn’t you learn anything? Fitzherbert died, because of you.” He says, and his face pulls into an exaggerated frown. “It was all your fault, Varian. Because you ran away, like a selfish little prick, a man died. Remember?”

The boy’s breath hitches, eyes going wide. “No, it’s- you’re the one who killed him!” His voice cracks, Varian’s face crumbling.

“And if you had just stayed put, I wouldn’t have done it.” Andrew shrugs like it’s an easy thing. “You dragged Fitzherbert into it, you made that choice to involve him. So yeah, bud, it’s on you.”

Varian’s face goes pale, the kid refusing to look up. Andrew reaches out, ignoring when the boy flinches away. He grabs Varian’s chin, forcing the boy to meet his eye. “I guess this was just what it took for you to learn your place,” he says, grinning when Varian’s shoulders hitch in a silent sob. “But it is what it is. So long as you do as you’re told, no one else needs to die.”

Tears run down freckled cheeks. Andrew lets go of Varian’s chin with a sigh, standing. “You’ll learn, one day. And when you do, we’re going to do great things together.”

With that, he turns and goes back to his fire. Varian covers his mouth with his hands, trying to muffle the fresh round of tears. His eyes burn from the salt, the boy blinking as his vision swims. His eyes slam shut as he lets himself be taken by another wave of despair, his whole body shaking with the force of the sorrow, the devastation.

The guilt.

In front of him, the small patch of soot quickly grows cold.

>>>><<<<

Eugene’s shoulder kills, but he refuses to let it stop him. The jostling of the horse underneath him does nothing to help, but he grits his teeth and bears it. They’d been riding for two days, hustling along the highway that Eugene had been found on, the same highway Andrew had attacked them. The horses are leagues faster than walking had been, and even Eugene knows that a hot air balloon is slow as all hell. At the rate they’re going, they’ll catch up with the Saporians sooner rather than later.

They only break for about eight hours, taking the risk of having no lookout to spend the minimum amount of time stopped before they’re off again. It’s a brutal pace, on rider and horse both, but Cassandra had made the good point that if Andrew and his crew could get the kid back to their base, rescuing Varian would be considerably more difficult. If they could catch the gang out in the wastes, it would simply be a matter of grabbing the kid and running like hell was on their heels.

Sure. Simple.

It’s been two days of riding. They’ve got to be close; they’ve already reached close to the gorge where he and Varian had almost died. They’d even stayed a night in the same farmhouse, its once cheery interior all the colder without the kid there. It’s early in the night, the sky dark and cloudy. They’d pulled off to the side of the highway to stop for the night, but Cassandra had stopped them before they could start to unpack a camp.

“Wait.” She whispers, quietly gesturing towards the forest. Eugene follows her motion, catching sight of dull light in the distance. A campfire. His eyebrow raises, a weathered hand settleing on the hilt of his sword.

“Could it be...?” Rapunzel trails off, hopeful. Cassandra shrugs, but catches Eugene’s eye. The man nods, already knowing what she’s implying.

“We should check it out,” he says. “The balloon barely caught up to us at a walking pace. I wouldn’t be surprised if we managed to overtake them on the horses.”

One of the animals, named Maximus as Eugene had learned, looks nearly smug as Eugene speaks. The man rolls his eyes, but still turns to where the fire burns in the distance.

“If there’s a chance it’s them, we have to check,” he says. Rapunzel nods, frying pan already in hand.

They creep forwards together, drawing close to the fire on quiet feet. The forest around them is alight with life, bugs and birds and small animals moving around and hiding their approach. Eugene is easily the quietest of them all, though Cassandra gets to the edge of the clearing first. She ducks into a thick bush, waving the others forwards once she confirms it’s a good spot. Eugene and Rapunzel dip in behind her, moving to either side. The thick brush is hard to see through, but it’s hidden, and for now that’s what’s important. The dirt under his knees is cold; Eugene shivers in the colder evening temperatures. From their place, kneeling in the dirt, Eugene can see the whole camp.

The first person he notices is Andrew.

“Oh, shit,” he whispers. “It’s them.”

The Saporians have a nice little camp going, to be fair. A large fire in the center of a clearing, the five of them scattered about. Three of them are asleep, the only ones awake are Andrew and the younger woman, Juniper. They relax next to the fire, relaxed and content with their places. A deflated hot air balloon sits nearby, small and chock full of odd little gadgets that must be Varian’s modifications.

Speaking of.

“Where’s Varian?” Rapunzel asks, her voice strained. “I don’t see him.”

“Me neither,” Cassandra hisses back.

Eugene scans the area near the fire. “He’s got to be around somewhere,” he mutters. “Andrew wouldn’t let the kid out of his sight, not after Varian gave him the slip once.”

“Wait- there!” Rapunzel nearly moves forwards, lurching towards the clearing. Cassandra snaps out a hand to stop her, grabbing the blonde by her arm and pulling her back down. Rapunzel struggles for a second more, but stops when Cass shakes her head. Instead the blonde points to the edge of the glen, where a large tree sits. There, handcuffed to the base of the tree…

“Varian.” Eugene whispers. Something in his chest, a knot that had been twisting in his gut for days, finally begins to unwind at the sight of Varian, though any sense of relief is cut short by the state of him. The kid looks like shit, even worse than the last time Eugene had seen him. The kid looks beat to hell; a fresh, purple bruise splays across Varian’s face, his wrist bleeds from where he’s been chained to the tree. Worst of all, however, is the obvious signs of the distress the kid’s in. Baby blue eyes are red rimmed and bloodshot. The kid’s crying, wiping at his face in a futile attempt to keep himself composed, but there’s no hiding the flush of his cheeks and the shaking of his lip.

Rapunzel makes a noise that’s close to a growl. Eugene can see the way her hand tightens around her frying pan. The sight of Varian’s distress obviously effects all three of them- Cassandra looks ready for murder, and Eugene’s sure his own expression can’t be much better. Even at the relief of seeing the kid alive, the sight of Varian in so much pain without anyone even trying to comfort him stirs a rage that Eugene rarely ever feels.

It’s not right- it was never right of course, but these bastards had ripped Varian away from his home, from his family. And now, faced with a crying kid that they had hurt, they couldn’t even be damned to give the kid a sweater or something, since they’d chained him far from the fire. Varian gets cold easily, even Eugene knows that.

The anger is like fire, spreading up from his gut and into his chest, a raging warmth that spurs the grip on his sword and the glare in his eye. It’s not right. He grits his teeth against the gnashing rage, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

“What’s the plan, blondie?” He asks, eyes never looking away from the distant figure of Varian. “Kid’s close to the edge of camp, but I don’t know how long the cuff will take to pick.”

“I can make a distraction.” Cassandra offers. “Go back to the road, make a bunch of noise. Excluding Andrew, they’re not the smartest bunch. Bang two sticks together and they’ll come running.”

Rapunzel pauses, thinking. “There’s five of them,” she says. Her eyebrows furrow together in thought, the woman biting at her lip. “I don’t think splitting up is a good idea.”

Eugene shakes his head. “We can’t take them head on. Even if we can get the kid free, it’s four against five. Varian’s not a fighter, he’s a-”

“A man of science.” Rapunzel finishes the sentence, catching Eugene’s eye. “That’s what he always says.”

Eugene’s mouth shuts with a click of teeth. Rapunzel’s face sinks into a warm smile. She puts a hand on his shoulder, leaning forward as much as she’s able. “You’re close with him?” She asks.

Eugene wants to deny it, wants to still pretend that this is all about some stupid ego-code, or revenge, or just because he wants to… but he’d be lying. He meets Rapunzel’s eye, nods.

“Varian’s… he’s a good kid.” Eugene scratches at the back of his neck. He looks away, refusing to acknowledge the heat in his cheeks. “So sue me if I got attached. He’s like a puppy, you can’t not.”

Rapunzel shakes her head, quietly laughing. “That’s exactly it,” she says. “Thank you, though. For taking care of him, I mean.”

“It was nothing-”

“No it wasn’t.”

No, it wasn’t.

Cassandra makes a small noise. Eugene looks back towards the clearing, glaring when he sees Andrew step away from the group and into the woods.

“Now?” He asks. Rapunzel pauses only for a second, weighing the options.

“Now,” she says. “Try and get Varian’s cuff unlocked without getting caught. If they spot you, Cass and I will step in.”

“Got it.” Eugene says, already moving back into the brush. He swings wide, keeping his distance from the camp as he circles around to where Varian is. His boots barely make a sound in the night, Eugene sneaking as quietly as he can. If he gets caught now, it will only end badly for Varian. They have one shot at this, and Eugene’s going to use it wisely.

He eventually gets close enough to see the kid properly, barely containing himself as the bruises, the blood, gets more pronounced against freckled skin. The kid looks worse up close, and it makes Eugene want to punch something. Specifically Andrew.

But that’s for later.

“Kid.” He hisses, trying to get Varian’s attention. The boy’s half asleep, cried out and obviously exhausted as he huddles against the tree to his back. Varian’s head looks up sharply at the whisper, staring directly at Eugene’s hiding place with wide eyes. The man takes the chance of popping out from between the trees, showing himself for a quick second.

He doesn’t get the reaction he was expecting.

Varian goes as white as a sheet, the blood draining from his face as it drops into a horrified expression. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. To be fair, though, from Varian’s perspective he probably has.

“E-Eugene?” He whispers, looking back and forth from Eugene’s hiding place and the campfire. “You’re alive?”

“Andrew’s a shitty shot,” is all Eugene says. It looks safe enough, so he chances crawling out from the brush and towards the kid. Varian’s face is still pulled in shock, baby blue eyes wide and nearly popping out of his skull. When Eugene gets close, he raises a shaking hand, looking scared to try anything more. The chain keeping him tied to the tree rattles with the movement.

With a small sigh, Eugene leans forwards and gently takes the cuffed hand. His heart aches at the shocked intake of breath the kid makes at the touch. Varian’s shaking, but not from cold.

“I thought you died…” The kid says. Eugene looks at him, sees the tears quickly springing up.

“Nah,” Eugene shrugs, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m like a cockroach. I’d love to see something actually succeed in killing me, I’m basically immortal.”

Varian laughs wetly, wiping at his face to dispel the tears. Eugene feels something in him settle as the kid’s face splits into a small, cautious smile.

“You’ll never guess who picked me up, by the way,” the man continues. Varian perks up, tilting his head. Eugene tilts his head in thought, playing it up to keep the kid laughing. “Some blonde chick and her crazy-ass friend, right. And, get this, they had a raccoon with them.”

The kid’s eyes go wide with surprise, the weak smile splitting into something closer to the wide grin Eugene’s come to know. “Rapunzel?” He asks quietly, like he can’t believe it. “And Cass? And Ruddiger?!”

“What are the odds, huh?” Is all Eugene replies with, trying not to smile as Varian grabs at his wrist.

“Are they here too?” The kid asks, nearly vibrating with excitement. “Did they-”

“Yeah, goggles. They came to help me get you home. Thought I could use the backup, this go around… but first we have to get you loose.”

Eugene looks down to the kid’s hand, more specifically the cuff around Varian’s wrist. It’s old, even in terms of the time after the blackout. The cuffs are rusted, but the metal’s still holding strong after all these years. Eugene is nothing if not resourceful, however, and he’s got just the thing.

“Hm,” he says. “Looks like an old police cuff. Should be easy enough to get you out of there.” Eugene reaches into his boot, drawing out his most valuable possession. The kid makes a confused noise, something small, but welcome.

“A paperclip?” Varian asks. “Are you serious?”

“Hey, don’t knock the paperclip.” Eugene quickly unbends the thing, shaping the little metal stick into a right angle. “This little guy’s gotten me out of more than one situation, thank you very much.”

He slips the impromptu lock pick into the keyhole of the handcuff, starting to shift it around in the mechanism. Varian watches with a keen eye, curious. Eugene catches the look, and begins to quietly explain.

“The lock has two latches on the inside,” he murmurs, barely even paying attention. “So, see, you want to bend the clip at about a ninety-degree angle and then hit both of them at the same time. Just gotta find the right spot-”

Click.

“Et voila!” He grins as the cuff falls open. Varian gawps at his freed wrist, pulling it back towards his chest as Eugene lets go. The man risks a peek over to the Saporians again, seeing Andrew still missing and the others half asleep. Good.

“Alright, kid.” He says, drawing Varian’s stunned attention back. “Let’s say you and I blow this roadshow, huh?”

The kid starts to nod, but pauses, thinking. “They’ll just follow us,” he says. Varian worries at his lip with those buck teeth, thinking hard. “We need to destroy the balloon.”

“Wha- Goggles, no, listen-” God damn it they don’t have time for this. “Your sister brought horses, we can outrun them.”

“And then what?” Varian’s voice nearly cracks. “We just wait for them to show up at Corona? Hide away for the rest of m-our lives? What happens when we can’t keep running?”

Eugene can’t even find anything to say. The protests die on his tongue, especially when Varian’s face hardens.

“If we don’t do something, they’ll keep hurting people.” The kid’s insane- “If I can stop them now, it’s my responsibility to do that.”

“It’s your respons- kid, we’re trying to survive, here!”

“What’s the point of survival without helping other people?” Varian snaps, “Without charity? Without hope?! I’ve seen the world survival brings, and I don’t want a part of it; I want to make things better, even if it’s a risk.”

“There’s no room for thinking like that out here.” Eugene’s protest is weak, and he knows it. “That kind of shit’s going to get you killed. Now, let’s get the hell out of here!” He reaches for Varian’s hand, and only feels a little hurt when the kid pulls back.

“I’m ending this.” Varian says. “For good.”

And like that, the kid’s up like a shot. Eugene makes another grab at him, hissing Varian’s name, but the teenager’s gone too quickly, off and vanishing into the darkness. The man grits his teeth- what the actual hell is the kid thinking- before getting to his feet and following.

The forest is dark all around them, but Eugene catches up with the kid quickly enough. Twigs snap underfoot, a barely-there crack in the silence of the evening. Eugene huffs for breath as he sees Varian skid to a stop in front of him, the kid crouching behind a tree.

The man follows the boy’s eyeline, sees the balloon parked near the trees. Its deflated for the evening, the garish, purple fabric laying flat on the forest floor. A large, almost ship looking platform sits nearby, connected to the balloon with a series of ropes and thick cables. It looks strong, to be honest, much sturdier than the hot air balloons Eugene thinks of from the before. If anything, it’s more of a warship that happens to be floating under balloons, than a hot air balloon in the traditional sense.

And there, bolted above the deck in the center of the ship on a pyramid of thin, metal supports, is a large burner. Or, at least, Eugene thinks that’s what it is. The way Varian stares at the balloon seems to confirm it; the kid’s glaring at it like it’s personally offended him. Eugene sees the same spark in his eye that Varian had the day they met, when the kid had refused to take no for an answer and had pushed until Eugene agreed to get him home. The man sighs, knowing exactly what that look means.

“So that’s it, then?” He asks, sidling up next to the kid and hiding behind the same tree. Varian jumps for a second at the sound of his voice, but the kid finally nods before looking back to the balloon.

“Andrew keeps the plans on the ship.” Varian whispers. “I saw them when… uh, after we were separated. They don’t understand how the ship works, so if things broke, they used the blueprints to figure it out.”

“So let me guess,” Eugene can hear the resignation in his own voice. “You want to get the plans, too.”

“Or just destroy them.” Jesus, kid, “Either way, if we don’t remove the plans from the equation, they can just build a new ship.”

“Fantastic.”

“Ha. Tell me how you really feel.”

Eugene takes the time to glare down at the little shit. Varian grins brightly back, and honestly, it’s worth the irritation to see the kid smile.

“Okay, goggles,” he says, “This is your song and dance. What’s the plan?”

Varian worries at the bottom of his lip, looking around. “I think I can get close enough without getting spotted,” he whispers, “All I have to do is destabilize the reducer bell, that would make it burn too quickly, causing the fire to be an uncontrolled burn, meaning-”

“To the point kid, please.”

Varian grins, something reveling and almost mean. “Meaning boom,” he says.

Eugene can’t help but laugh, tweaking the kid’s ear. “Boom it is, then,” he grins. “We’ll stick together, better to run in pairs.”

Varian nods. Together they slowly creep out from the woods. Eugene can’t say he’s pleased about being so exposed, but if this is what it takes to get Varian to agree to leaving… well they’d better make it quick. Varian reaches the balloon first, quickly hopping into the wooden portion and out of sight. Eugene follows, pressing his back against the wooden wall. They hold the position for a second longer, waiting, listening. Nothing happens, the Saporians still unaware of their loose prisoner. Together they breathe a sigh of relief, Varian slouching more than Eugene against the panels.

The kid’s gotta be tired, there’s no question of it. Better get this done sooner, rather than later. Thankfully, there’s a series of crates that will keep them mostly hidden, with a few odds and ends stacked on top. It’ll be more than enough to hopefully make this quick.

“Alright,” Eugene murmurs. “Tell me what to do.”

Varian peeks up pausing. “I’ve got it,” he says. “If you do it wrong, we could blow up with it.”

“Ah.”

“Yep.”

Varian flips onto his feet in a squat, quickly reaching into a nearby crate. With a grin he pulls out his hoodie, still stocked from the way that it seems to glow from the chemicals within. The kid slips it on, looking already more like himself. He also pulls out the knife Eugene had given him, still sheathed. The boy waves it with a small flourish, smiling widely at the ridiculous look Eugene shoots him.

“Andrew knows better than to chuck a good knife just because he wants to be petty.” Varian shrugs. The kid moves closer to the burner, tilting it this way and that before pulling the knife from its sheath. He uses the tip to unscrew a panel from the bottom of the machine in a precise, practiced motion. A sense of amusement makes Eugene snicker as the kid sticks his tongue out in concentration, fiddling with the guts of the burner.

“Just a little more,” Varian whispers to Eugene. The man nods, looking around. Something doesn’t feel right, like it’s too easy. It gets his hackles up, the quiet of the evening. In theory it’s good that it’s quiet, but something about it just seems too perfect. Their luck has sucked so far, so something going right sets him right on edge.

Case and point, a sudden shout comes from the other end of the glen not two seconds later.

“Where’s the kid?!”

Andrew.

Varian flinches violently, borderline dropping to the deck of the ship. Eugene follows, settling into a crouch before peeking through the top railing with a cautious eye. He sees Andrew storming into camp from where they’d chained Varian, shaking the empty handcuffs. The fury across his face is evident, a snarling, vicious anger.

Eugene hears Varian suck in a terrified breath next to him.

All the Saporians have turned to look at their leader, shock written across their faces as the man shakes the cuffs roughly.

“I said,” he spits, “Where. The hell. Is the kid?”

“I- we- he can’t have gone far!” Juniper stumbles over her words, fear written plainly across her face. “He’s just a kid, we caught him before, right?”

“We caught that little shit because we shot Fitzherbert, which scared him into listening. You want to volunteer next, Juniper?”

Oh, Andrew’s pissed. Juniper wilts immediately, shrinking down. “We’ll find him,” she says, more a pleading thing than a declaration.

The boy next to Eugene shakes at the mention of the night on the highway, flinching as the man quietly offers his hand in consolation. The kid takes his hand, clinging tightly to the illusion of safety. Varian shudders and shifts, to try and see the camp better.

Knocks into a nearby crate.

The whole thing rattles, sending a glass bottle toppling to the deck below. Eugene throws a hand out, trying to catch it, but he’s just short; his fingers graze the bottle before it passes him by, slamming into the wooden surface of the ship and breaking into a million pieces. The noise it makes rattles in Eugene’s ears, the high-pitched crack of shattered silence.

There’s a pause, Eugene and Varian staring at each other in abject horror before they hear hurried footsteps.

“Whelp,” Eugene says, already standing. “I think it’s time to go, don’t you?”

“Agreed!” Varian shouts, shooting to his feet and starting to bolt. His knife drops to the deck, abandoned in the panic. Eugene vaults over the edge of the ship first, landing in the dirt. He unthinkingly twists, already holding his arms out to catch the kid. Varian lands in his grip with a little oomph, clinging tight as Eugene softens the fall. It’s a quick second of unconscious comfort, feeling Varian safe in his arms, though it doesn’t last long.

Eugene can hear the Saporians shout behind them, angry and loud. He chances a look towards them and see all five charging towards the airship, and towards them. Varian locks up in fear for a second, but a small push from Eugene gets him moving. They run, bolting for the woods, a fierce sprint that Eugene knows he’s going to feel in his knees tomorrow. Varian easily overtakes him- damn the kid’s fast when he wants to be- but skids to a stop at the edge of the forest. Eugene finds himself running past, digging his feet in to stop before he ends up leaving the kid behind. He twists on his heel just in time to see Varian reach into the depths of the hoodie and draw out a bomb, throwing it with a practiced motion.

It explodes into a cloud of fuchsia dust, the gas spreading through the entire clearing. Eugene can hear the Saporians shout in surprise- at least one of them hits something with a loud thump and a curse- but he loses sight of Varian in the process.

“Shit, goggles!?” He shouts, looking frantically around. Eugene stumbles over a rock, unable to see his own hand in front of his face. The sword in his hand is heavy, a comforting thing, but he doesn’t dare to use it. If it’s a friendly face and he swings… it would end badly, to say the least.

“Varian!?” He yells again, hearing chaos in the thick cloud. There’s a sudden clang of metal on what’s probably a skull from the way someone screams; it’s enough to set Eugene’s hair on end as the noise was close-

Another clang, another scream. Eugene whirls around with his sword held high, caution be damned-

Rapunzel.

The blond woman pauses, her frying pan held behind her not unlike how someone would hold a bat, ready to swing. Eugene jerks to a stop, bringing his sword down. Cassandra’s close behind the blonde, her green glare scanning the smoke. Rapunzel does the same, her eyes widening when she doesn’t see the kid at Eugene’s side.

“I thought you had Varian?!” Her voice pitches higher in a way that screams frantic. “Where is he?” “I lost him!” Eugene snaps, “He threw the bomb and vanished, what do you want from me?!”

He would keep shouting, but a quick motion behind him startles him. Eugene whirls on his heels, bringing his sword up in a block. He feels, more than sees, the impact of another blade connecting with his own, a harsh weight that makes the hole in his shoulder scream. He just catches sight of grey-green eyes before Andrew snarls, pressing hard into the block before backing off. Juniper stands at her side, already moving around like a stalking predator.

He hears Rapunzel shout behind him, the shuffling of footsteps interspaced with the clang of metal on metal. He chances a small look behind him, sees Rapunzel and Cassandra backing away from Kai, the large man towering over them. Juniper starts to move to Eugene’s left, even as Andrew stands in front.

They’re trying to flank him, he realizes with a dawning horror. Distract him long enough for one of them to get an in and cut him down. It’s a dirty ploy, but one that he’s seen done even in the animal kingdom. Unsurprising that the Saporians would use such a tactic.

“Fitzherbert,” Andrew’s voice is cold. “Looks like you’re harder to kill than I thought.”

Eugene shrugs. “You shoot like a bitch,” he says. Andrew scowls, a sour look crossing his face. Eugene can’t help but smirk, shifting his weight to keep both Saporians in his line of sight.

The girls seem pre-occupied with Kai, from the sound of it, so he knows he’s on his own here. He’s never fought Juniper before, but she looks capable, especially in the way she circles him with a quiet precision. For a second there’s an almost peaceful moment between the three of them, a weird sort of stalemate.

That is, until Andrew starts to back away, disappearing into the pink smoke.

“Juniper,” he says. “Be a dear and entertain our guest, would you?”

Eugene catches the glint of her smile. She holds a silver rapier in her hand, her dark skin turning nearly white at the knuckle with how tightly she holds it. His attention flits back to Andrew; the cocky bastard’s fully turned away now, waltzing into the pink cloud without a care.

“Don’t worry, Fitzherbert,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll take real good care of the kid, I promise.”

Eugene’s hackles raise at that. He starts to go after Andrew- ready to tear that asshole limb from limb, how dare he threaten the kid again- but Juniper stands in his way. Her sword’s held parallel to the ground, blocking his path. Her face is nearly blank, save for a calculating gleam in her eye.

There’s only a fraction of a second that passes before Juniper lunges forwards, a loud cry leaving her as she swings her sword. Eugene only just deflects it, a pulse of adrenaline guiding his hand as he knocks her sword away and parries with a swipe of his own. She barely gets out of the way, crouching and throwing one of her legs out in a perfect arc aimed directly at Eugene’s knee.

The man manages to hop over it, landing in a solid stance as Juniper switches her weight onto her hands. The woman continues her leg’s arc around in a full circle, swinging back around to connect her foot perfectly on Eugene’s jaw. It’s a good hit, solid. Eugene’s head swirls from the impact, the man bending double as his vision goes cross eyed.

He tastes blood where he’d bitten his cheek.

Juniper somehow ends up back on her feet, directing another kick at Eugene’s undefended side. It topples him, the taste of dirt mixing with the blood. Pain flares up from his shoulder like fire, burning until it’s all he can focus on. He flips onto his back, staring up at the moonless sky as Juniper towers over him.

In the distance, he hears someone scream.

Juniper isn’t much of a talker, it seems. She simply raises her sword high, obviously gearing up for a killing blow. Eugene winces, ready for the hit like all the others before. His eyes slam shut, waiting for the agony-

Only to hear the crack of a frying pan meeting skull.

His eyes fly open as Juniper goes oddly stiff, wobbling for a second before toppling into the dirt. Behind her stands Rapunzel, haloed in the light of the fire. Her pan’s held high as her backlit figure holds itself like a queen.

Beautiful, Eugene can’t help but think.

Time slows, the two of them meeting eyes and staring at the other with a sense of magnetism Eugene can’t place. He feels drawn to her, her fire, her drive, her joy. Something in her calls to him, like a lighthouse on the coast. From the way she stares at him, he thinks she must feel it too.

“Are you okay?” She asks, lowering her pan now that Juniper is well and truly knocked out.

“Fine,” he says. The pink smoke around them is still thick and cloying, nearly impossible to see through. “Fine. Are you and Cass-”

“We’re okay too.” Cassandra. She appears through the smoke, the fuchsia swirling around her like a shawl. “But there’s no sign of the kid.”

“Andrew was going after him,” Eugene gasps out, pushing his aching body off the ground. “We have to get to Varian before he does-”

A sudden explosion of wind bursts from the edge of the haze. Eugene slaps his hands over his ears and slams his eyes shut, crouching down to protect his head as he had learned to do during the chaos after the Blackout. When he opens his eyes again the pink smoke from Varian’s bomb is mostly gone, dispersed by the shockwave. He spins, looking for-

Oh, no.

Andrew stands tall on the airship, the gust being caused by the whirling propellers on the tail end starting up. The man smiles, raising a hand to wave at them as the ship begins to raise into the air on the newly inflated balloon. Andrew’s hand lazily waves, the other holding onto a struggling figure by the wrist.

“Varian!” Eugene hears Rapunzel scream, only just registering what she says past the roaring of adrenaline in his ears. As he blinks away the last of the pink fog that’s exactly who he sees, the teenager shoving at Andrew with his free hand as the airship raises higher into the moonless sky.

“Son of a bitch, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Eugene mutters, already kicking himself into a sprint. He hears the women close behind, Rapunzel shouting insults to Andrew the whole time. The ship’s only a few meters off the ground, but they’ll never make it at their current pace. Eugene’s heart races from the exertion, from the panic, anger, and adrenaline cocktail that comes from seeing Andrew with his nasty mitts on the kid again. The rabbit’s pace of his heartbeat is wild in his ears, drowning everything out as he sprints the twenty-meter distance between them and the airship.

By the time he gets there the ship’s at least five meters off the ground, easily higher than any of them can jump. Eugene only pauses for a moment, staring up at the underbelly of the machine with a sense of dawning horror before Rapunzel sprints past him and snatches a rope that’s dangling off the side of the ship. Cassandra follows without question, grabbing a rope of her own. Seeing their plan is enough to shock Eugene to life again, the man grabbing another line; he can’t help but feel grateful for balloons having to be tied down in order to keep them in place.

Eugene grits his teeth as his feet leave the ground, tugged higher and higher by the raising ship. He doesn’t dare look down as he starts to climb towards the ship, but the way the passing trees start to seem shorter and shorter isn’t a good sign.

Rapunzel and Cassandra climb nearby, the tree of them scaling the ropes towards the main body of the ship. Eugene’s shoulder burns, the exertion of holding his body weight and having to climb causing a strange numbness in that arm. Probably not good, but he’s in it for the long haul that this point. He’ll just have to deal with it later.

Cassandra and Rapunzel are on the two ropes attached to the left side of the ship, Eugene on the right. They all swing like pendulums as they clamber upwards, the wind battering at them. Eugene breathes through his nose, gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder as the lower side of the ship draws close, so close-

Cassandra shouts as her rope suddenly gives way, the woman plummeting into the trees below. Eugene sees her manage to grab a hold of a branch a meter down, stopping her fall. Her line falls to the ground, the cut side of it hitting the side of the ship. Cassandra shouts in rage, quickly left behind as they continue to float away.

”Andrew!” Rapunzel barks. No prizes for guessing who’s cutting the lines, then. Eugene behind to push himself harder, climbing faster as the edge of the ship draws close. He hears Rapunzel scream, catches sight of blond hair disappearing into the trees just like Cassandra had. Her cut line swings uselessly in the wind.

“Later, princess!” He hears Andrew cackle, laughing as Rapunzel curses at him from the treeline. Eugene’s only a meter away from the railing, the stress on his shoulder burning.

The ship cracks the treeline at last, bursting from the forest in a sudden boost of speed. Eugene feels the tips of his boots skimming the tops of trees, even as he finally gets a grip on the railing. He hoists himself up with one last pull, forcing his aching arms to bring him up and over the edge.

Eugene’s boots hit the wood, already drawing his sword from the scabbard. It’s easy enough to take stock of the scenario, it’s not like the ship is overly large. The same crates and tools are scattered about the deck, obviously in a state of chaos after the hectic takeoff. The main burner still chugs away in the center, a large plume of flame spluttering from the top and heating the air in the balloon to make it fly. Varian’s knife’s still laying nearby from where the kid dropped it, the light of the burner reflecting off it. The shards from the broken bottle are long gone, scattered to the wind.

And there, on the other side of the deck, stands Andrew and Varian, locked in a scuffle.

The kid’s fighting with everything he’s got, smacking at Andrew despite the sword held in the man’s other hand. The brunet’s got a hand locked around Varian’s wrist, keeping the kid in place even as Varian struggles. Two ropes swing from the railing, obviously Cassandra and Rapunzel’s lines that Andrew had cut.

“Let go!” Varian screams, kicking at Andrew. The man grunts with each hit, though one good kick to the ankle is enough to get him to swing his sword to a stop under Varian’s chin. The kid tenses, eyes darting between the blade and Andrew.

“You,” The man hisses, “Are going to shut. Up. Are we clear?”

“Go to hell!”

“Ha, hell spat me out, try again.” Andrew shakes the kid once before shoving Varian down to the deck. “Don’t give a reason to chuck you over the edge.” He threatens, smiling as the kid flinches.

The second Varian’s out of Andrew’s grip Eugene charges.

The taller man doesn’t even have time to turn before Eugene’s on him, tackling the man to the deck of the ship. They land with a thump, the contact rough on Eugene’s injuries. His shoulder aches, even as he pins Andrew down with a hand. Something in Eugene screams for blood, for revenge, for justice for what he’s done to Varian, to countless others.

There’s something infinitely satisfying as he draws a fist back and brings it down, cracking his knuckles across Andrew’s smarmy face.

In fact, it feels so good he does it again.

Andrew yowls at each punch. Eugene feels flesh give way under his fist, a burst of crimson red blooming under the bruises he leaves. It’s good, the feeling of this bastard’s pain at Eugene’s hands, the feeling of blood and suffering for once caused to those who choose evil.

But it can’t last.

Andrew manages to get Eugene off him, a rough shove sending him backwards and onto the deck. His back hits wood with a thump. Eugene doesn’t pause to think about the aches, flipping onto his stomach and pushing himself up with a grunt. He hears the whizz of a blade through the air, and only just manages to roll out of the way before Andrew’s sword cleaves his head from his shoulders. He keeps the momentum, rolling clean across the polished wood of the deck.

He comes to a stop by a familiar pair of boots.

“Hey, kid,” he says, quickly standing and putting himself between Varian and Andrew. The boy looks dreadful, gaunt and thin in the harsh light thrown from the burner. “How’s it going?”

“Been better,” Varian responds, an exhausted look fluttering across his face even as he borderline hides behind Eugene.

“Fair enough,” Eugene shrugs. Andrew paces in front of them, spitting blood onto the deck. “Got any bright ideas, goggles?”

“I used my last bomb down there,” Varian admits. Shit.

“Hm. We’ll take care of this the old-fashioned way, then.”

“Can you stall him?” Varian whispers. “I have an idea.”

“No, just stay out of it-”

“Eugene.”

He’s forced to look back. Sees those baby blues focused on him, a fire burning deep within them. There’s a light, a determination, that he hasn’t seen in Varian before.

“Please, trust me.” Varian begs, his eyes wide and pleading.

Before Eugene can reply, Andrew makes himself known again.

“Are we doing this today, Fitzherbert?” He tone is demanding, only punctuated by the slight ting of the tip of his sword hitting the ship’s deck. “Or are we just going to stand here and glare at each other until one of us drops dead?”

Eugene’s sword is a heavy weight in his hand.

“You’d better have a plan, kid.” Eugene mutters.

And then, he strikes.

Andrew’s fast, Eugene will give him that, but it’s also easy enough to keep him distracted and away from the kid. If Varian’s got a plan, Eugene would trust him on it. It’s like pulling teeth, allowing someone else to take the reigns and control the situation while Eugene does nothing but distract and put himself in harm’s way, but…

Well the kid had done more than enough to prove his mettle.

Neither Eugene nor Andrew are in top shape at this point. It’s been a long fight, Andrew’s tired, Eugene’s injured. They’re both about as even as they’ll ever get, even as their swords clash in a shower of sparks. It’s obvious in the way that Andrew sticks to circling that he isn’t strong enough to be as offensive as he usually is, despite the fact that Eugene is just as exhausted as he is.

Doesn’t stop him from trying, though.

There’s a few more parries and dodges. Swipes of blades through the midnight air. A block here, a kick there. A splash of blood on the polished wood of the deck. Eugene catches sight of Varian, out of the way of the fighting, fiddling with the burner again. Ah, so that’s his plan, then.

Andrew makes another swing of his sword, yelling with rage. His face is shiny with sweat and blood, his hair dishevelled and wild in the wind. The Saporian looks near feral, bloodied and animalistic as he sloppily slashes at Eugene. Something in him, Eugene thinks with a pulse of fear, has snapped.

“I’m going to fillet you!” Andrew hollers over the wind, “And when I’m done? I’m gunna take that goddamn kid and I’m going to throw him off the ship!”

There’s a sudden whining noise behind Eugene, high pitched and nearly agonizing to listen to. He whirls around, seeing Varian pull his arms away from the burner with a mean smile, the boy facing the two men. His eyes glint in the light of the fire, as does the knife in his hand.

“Hey, Andrew?” He says, quiet and casual, and almost confident. The Saporian sees the knife, sees the burner. His eyes go wide, something almost like fear sparking. Varian raises the knife high, still looking at his abuser with a sudden sense of power.

“Get fucked,” The kid says.

And he brings the knife down.

From where Eugene’s standing he can’t see what exactly Varian hits, but from the resulting scream the burner makes, it must have been important. The burner immediately lights up in a way that seems uncontrolled, fire bursting from the top in a plume of light and crackling flames. They raise high into the balloon, so hot that Eugene can even feel them from three meters away.

Varian runs, leaving the knife embedded in the burner. The kid sprints for Eugene, grabbing the man’s coat and tugging. The fire puffs even larger, and then-

The fabric of the balloon catches.

Andrew lets out a panicked shout as the balloon holding them up quickly bursts into flames, bright and hungry as the canvas begins to turn to ash. The ship gives a sickening lurch, quickly beginning to lose altitude. It’s too slow to be called a drop, but it’s certainly fast enough that the trees they’d left behind quickly begin to skim the bottom of the ship, and then within the blink of an eye they’re coasting through the treeline instead of above it.

Eugene shouts as the ship gives another lurch. The purple fabric of the balloon’s nearly gone now, pockmarked with steadily growing holes as the fire claws at it. Varian screams as the deck beneath them shudders, the ship bashing into a larger tree trunk with a horrible thunk. The platform begins to spin, thrown off its trajectory by the impact. It’s nauseating, the added rotation as they fall, and before Eugene can think he’s grabbing at Varian and tugging the kid close.

On the other side of the ship, Andrew screams in fear. Eugene just catches sight of him disappearing over the edge of the ship, his section of the railing snapping away under the stress of the hit. Eugene holds Varian close, deliberately shielding the boy from seeing as Andrew plummets to the ground.

He’s not sure if the man would survive.

Part of him really doesn’t care.

They’re only a few meters from the ground at this point. One of he lines holding the ship to the balloon snaps; the whole deck begins to list, held only by one side. Varian screams again, Eugene can feel small fingers clutching tightly in his shirt. Fire crackles louder now, with the majority of the balloon eaten away. As the ground draws closer at an alarming rate, Eugene feels a sense of dawning horror.

They can’t stay on the ship.

“Kid,” he shouts, his voice nearly lost to the raging winds. “We’re gunna have to jump!”

Varian lets go of where he’d been clinging to Eugene like an octopus, staring up at the man with barely concealed fear.

“Are you insane?!” He screams. Eugene flinches at the loud voice next to his ear. He chances a look down, sees the ground only a meter away from the belly of the ship.

“Varian, you gotta trust me, okay?” Eugene’s voice is stern, but more so to stay off the rising panic. “We can’t be on here when it hits, it might explode.”

Varian looks shaken, but Eugene can tell the kid knows he’s right. “I- okay.” Varian stutters, “What are we going to do?”

Eugene doesn’t waste time, scooping Varian up. The kid shouts in protest, though Eugene’s momentarily distracted by the fact that Varian weighs about as much as a handful of grapes. The minute we’re out of here, I’m feeding him, Eugene’s thoughts grumble. With the kid secured, he peeks over the railing at the ground whizzing by. He winces, knowing this isn’t going to be pleasant by any means.

“Alright, hang on,” Eugene mutters. He feels the ship shudder again, feels Varian flinch at the harsh noise of another one of the cables snapping under the stress. He looks down once last time, sees a large set of overgrown bushes at the base of a tree. Varian shakes like a leaf in his arms, clinging tightly. Eugene grits his teeth.

And then, he jumps.

The impact is painful, a series of small aches and pains that Eugene knows he’s going to be feeling for over a week. His shoulder burns, the agony of it hitting hard. Varian shrieks as they fall, only to go frighteningly quiet on impact. The bush breaks their fall, but only just. It’s like landing… well it’s like landing on a pile of sticks and leaves. There’s no two ways about it, it sucks.

Eugene rolls with the inertia. The dirt under him is cold, but soft, so at least there’s that to be thankful for. He finds himself borderline skidding along the ground, popping out the other side of the bush with a shout. He feels his grip in the kid loosen, Varian yelping as he rolls to a stop a little ways behind him. Eugene finds himself flat on his back, staring up at the moonless sky. The stars are out now, he notices; small, twinkling lights scattered across an inky sky.

The ship crashes to the ground nearby, a large boom rattling the teeth in Eugene’s skull. It’s a fair way away, though, far enough to be safe.

Eugene takes a moment to pause, let himself breathe. He forces air into stuttering lungs, watching as the stars swim. Everything hurts, but if a limb is hurting that means it’s still attached, which is good.

There’s a rough cough to his left. Eugene rolls over, sees the kid slowly shift, flat on his back in the dirt. Varian lays closer to what used to be the airship, sprawled on his back after probably getting thrown by the force of the explosion. Eugene feels a spike of panic for a second before the kid sits up, his black hair standing straight up, and his face covered in ash. Eugene slowly forces his aching body the few feet towards the kid, already scanning for injuries.

As he draws close, he hears a small litany of shocked laughter coming from the kid as Varian watches the ship burn. The fire spreads quickly, the balloon already eaten away and the wooden structure quickly following. Plumes of white smoke fly from the burning wreckage, thick and cloying in the moonless sky.

As Eugene draws close, he can hear Varian’s laughter putter out. The boy turns to Eugene, his eyes wide with shock.

“I-I may have miscalculated how big the blast would be,” he chokes out.

Eugene can’t help but snort, flopping down onto the ground next to the kid.

“You think?” He asks. The fire burns in front of them, bright in the evening. It’s… well it’s kind of nice, to be honest. Warm, at least. Eugene throws an arm over the kid’s shoulders, drawing Varian closer. The kid leans into him, hugging tight.

“Hey, goggles.” Eugene whispers. He hugs the kid to him, taking a second to press a small kiss to the crown of Varian’s hair. “You did good up there.”

“You were okay,” Varian mumbles. “Might need some more practice.”

Eugene sighs. “Well, maybe your sister will give me some pointers.” He says, feeling the exhaustion of the day sinking into his bones. Varian pauses, pulling back and looking at Eugene with a tilted head.

“So you’ll stay?” He asks, voice laced with a feeble hope.

“For now.” Eugene shrugs, like it’s a casual thing.

Varian smiles brightly. He leans back into Eugene’s embrace, hugging tight. The man returns it, wrapping the kid up in his arms and rocking them, happy to enjoy the moment. Eugene feels himself finally settle, that tight knot in his chest finally easing knowing the kid’s safe. He lets himself breathe, taking the moment to just be content.

Above them, the moon finally peeks out from behind the clouds.

>>>><<<<

There’s something to be said about the quiet of the settlements.

Corona is quaint, simple. Calm. Eugene can walk the streets of it without needing to look over his shoulder all the time, which is a new feeling but not one he’s upset about. Corona is… different from other settlements. Be it Rapunzel’s rule keeping the peace, or the people just generally being good, Corona runs like a smoothy oiled machine.

The streets are paved still, well maintained and swept. He wanders past stores and homes with a sense of ease. Eugene’s been in Corona for a few months now, more than long enough to know where he’s going. It’s been a good amount of time, between getting to know everyone, especially Rapunzel, better, and adapting to working with others, but to Eugene it hardly feels like any time at all.

He used to fear living in a settlement. Needing the support of other people, needing to support other people- being left on his own had always been more appealing, but after being exposed to Rapunzel and her group, after helping Varian out… well he can’t say he misses it.

He comes up to a larger building near the center of the town square, probably what used to be a town hall of some kind. It’s a huge structure, plumes of fluffy white smoke splutter from the tallest chimney and into the bright blue sky. It’s a grand building, made of large stones and heavy timbers, huge even in context of before the Blackout. Eugene hops up the stone steps, taking them two at a time, before pushing the large, oak front door open.

The space within is organized chaos, a myriad of machines and chemicals taking up a lot of the open room. Thick stone walls are covered in different colour mixtures, the results of failed experiments from years gone by. Dozens of tables are scattered around the room, all of them just as cluttered as the rest of the laboratory. It’s anarchy, but obviously a laboratory, lit by a series of large windows and candles placed strategically around.

And there, sitting right at one of the tables in the middle of the room, is Varian.

Eugene smiles, waltzing over. “Hey, kid,” he calls. “How goes it?”

Varian perks up, looking up from whatever it is he’s been building. He’s wearing his goggles, giving him a hilariously bug-eyed look. The kid smiles when he sees Eugene, shoving the goggles up onto their usual place on his head. He looks… better. Great, even. The miserable little slip of a boy that Eugene remembers from months ago is gone, replaced by a heathly, perky teenager. It’s a good look on him, to be honest. Rosy cheeks and bright eyes, fluffy hair and tanned skin.

Varian looks like the kid he’s meant to be.

The boy waves Eugene over, scooting his stool over so the man can get a look at what he’s doing. It’s a mess of wires, all hooked up to a small drum and what looks almost like an engine. A small lightbulb, obviously made by Varian himself, sits in the very center, hooked up to it all.

“Hey, Eugene!” Varian grins. “You’re just in time, I’m about to run trial thirty-seven of the flynnolium, to see if it’s a viable energy source.”

Eugene raises a brow, settling onto his own stool next to the kid. “And how’s it going?” He asks, smirking when Varian blushes.

“Uh,” Varian gestures to the nearby wall, where a new, charred hole is still smoking. “It’s questionable, but this time for sure it’s going to work!”

Eugene nods, watching as Varian fiddles with his invention a little more. It’s like night and day, this new Varian and the one he’d met before. Even if he looked the same, the way Varian acts is almost an opposite of how he used to. Once Andrew was out of the picture, once he’d gotten home and cleaned up and back with his family, the kid had shown the excitement he had rarely had on their little walk.

And with the excitement came the talking.

“See, it’s a steam engine!” Varian says, “Using the flynnolium as a fuel to burn, boiling water, making steam.” He gestures to each piece as he talks. Eugene pretends to understand, nodding along. He’s just happy to see the kid excited, to be honest. Varian keeps chattering, gesturing wildly.

“And look, here,” the kid continues, “The steam turns the turbines, right? And that generates electricity.”

“Wait, like before the blackout?” Is he serious?

“Exactly!” Varian’s smile is wide. “In theory, we could get some lights going, maybe even an irrigation system!”

“Kid… That’s amazing!”

Varian blushes, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I still need to test it,” he mumbles, “So no promises yet.”

Eugene still claps him on the shoulder, encouraging him. “Let’s give it a shot, huh?”

Varian’s face lights back up, the kid pulling his goggles back down onto his face. His smile turns nearly manic as he brings a nearby match close, lighting the compound on fire. It’s controlled, a slow burn. Water suspended above quickly begins to boil, causing steam. Just like Varian had said, a little turbine over the water begins to spin.

A tiny motor made from pillaged car parts begins to whine as the turbine spins, turning the interior mechanism. The flynnolium makes a strange pop noise; Varian cringes back, flinching and waiting for another explosion, but the compound settles down slowly. Eugene steadies him on the stool with a hand to his upper back, keeping the kid upright.

Varian spares a second to smile gratefully, before going back to watching the contraption. Eugene snickers at the way he sticks his tongue out, quickly writing in a small notebook. The engine makes another noise, the whining getting a little louder.

Eugene grins, reflecting. The kid in front of him is going to do amazing things, so long as he had the support to do so. Eugene, as much as he would deny it outwardly, can’t wait to watch him succeed, to mould this new world to his whims. He’s going to do amazing things, with that big brain of his, and Eugene can’t wait to see him do it.

It feels like years ago, when he’d found that skinny, scrappy kid stealing for survival in the wasteland. Before he’d known exactly who he’d been dealing with, when they both were lost to the wasteland caused by those who came before them. When Eugene had been resigned to a life of suffering and scavenging.

It feels like a different life. Eugene smiles, a sudden surge of gratefulness for the kid to his left hitting him like a freight train. Gratefulness to Varian, for showing a bitter old asshole how to have a little hope, a little faith in humanity. A little determination to see a better future. It’s something he didn’t know he needed, but now that he has it, Eugene can’t see himself ever giving it up. Not for anything.

The machine before them makes another strange noise, the container holding the burning flynnolium rattling on the table. It looks ready to explode, to be honest, but even as Eugene’s hands tense, the kid seems confident in his invention. Varian bites at his lip, stressed but determined.

“C’mon,” he whispers. “C’mon.”

Eugene’s hand pats at his back, Varian leans into the touch, his eyes begging the machine to work. There’s a tense silence as the engine whines, only broken by the soft bubbling noises of the water.

And then, flickering in the darkness, coming from the bulb.

Light.

#tangled the series #tts #team awesome #varian #alone we have no future #adios wee ficcy #we hardly knew ye

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shedreamsofstars · 5 years

Text

Threads of our Sols - Chapter 2

A series of fluffy interconnecting snapshots inspired by the Silvaze Week 2019 themes of dream, music, fairy tale, marriage, ‘I’m okay’ lantern and gardening.

Start from the beginning / Next Chapter

These Threads That Play

The strings of the violin quivered as Silver grazed a finger over the top of them, his face as close as he dared as a low hollow twang reverberated from the instrument.

He narrowed his eyes as each string bounced effortlessly back into place. Nothing seemed to be wrong. So why then, did the thing keep screaming at him every time he tried to play something?

With a breathy sigh, the hedgehog shook his head and sat up straight, resting the violin carefully in the nook between his neck and shoulder. He reached for the bow that rested against the leg of his chair, angling it to rest gently atop the strings as he glanced at the sheet music on the stand beside him.

“Sixty-third time’s the charm,” he said as he pulled the bow, the taut hairs grating against the strings. His golden eyes widened in alarm as a violent sound emitted from the object and he pulled the bow back instantly.

All morning had been some variation of this same routine. He’d play something terrible, examine the culprit and try again only to be faced with the same outcome.

Every time he convinced himself that he’d finally tamed the musical creature in his arms, the violin would turn feral and the ivory hedgehog would be rewarded with nothing but incessant shrieking.

It didn’t help that the room he was practicing in was one that been carefully designed and constructed to maximise the sounds from within, including but not limited to the ear-splitting sounds he was producing. They whirled around the room like a wild tornado, inflicting their racket on both him inside the room and the world beyond the walls.

He scowled at the bow again, wondering if perhaps the problem lay not with him or the violin, but the stick itself. He was in the midst of inspecting the wood for splinters and grains of dirt when a cough startled him from his unnecessary investigations.

The sound was quiet, but even so, it echoed around the room and Silver’s gaze flicked to the doorway where two wooden doors stood wide open. His fiancée stood at the threshold of the building, haloed by the sunlight in a glow of white.

“Oh, hey Blaze,” he called happily, pulling the violin behind his back in a last-ditch effort to hide it from the girl. A part of him knew there was no way she would have missed it, but even still, it was worth a shot. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

He’d specifically chosen this particular music hall for its distance from the main palace to avoid this particular situation, but he guessed luck just wasn’t on his side today.

Blaze glanced around the room, perhaps looking to confirm they were alone, before stepping inside. She wore her typical purple jacket, her hands folded carefully in front of her in her usual regal manner. Her engagement ring glittered as she approached him.

“I came to investigate reports of torture in the music house,” she said tactfully, meeting his look of innocence full on with amusement dancing in her honeyed gaze. “Some of the grounds staff were worried Nega had infiltrated the palace.”

Silver grimaced. “About that …” he started sheepishly. “I’m fairly certain the only thing being tortured out here is my patience.”

Blaze’s lip turned up in a half smile and she eyed his hidden hands suspiciously. “What have you got there? Is that Nega’s torture device?”

Silver gave in, revealing the violin in his hands with a soft chuckle. “It’s been assaulting my ears all morning so yes, I guess it is a torture device but it’s definitely not Nega’s. Listen to this.”

Before Blaze could object, Silver sent another round of screeching acoustics slinging around the music room. The cat’s hands flew to her ears instantly, protecting their hyper sensitivity from the ear splitting sounds her fiancé was producing.

Silver stopped short the moment he saw her discomfort. “Sorry,” he said apologetically. “But you can tell how bad I am, right?” he added once Blaze had returned her hands to their earlier position.

The cat only answered with a question of her own as she closed the remaining distance between them. “Have you had many lessons?”

Silver nodded.

“How many?” she asked, seeming surprised by his answer.

“Enough to not be sounding like that anymore,” he laughed. “Do you know how to play?”

Blaze nodded. As a Princess, she was expected to excel at almost everything including playing a wide array of instruments. Whether or not she was musically gifted had been irrelevant as she recalled the hours she’d spent practicing in this very hall once she had returned to Sol.

“Here,” she said, holding out a hand for the violin. Silver handed it over but Blaze only placed her palm against it.

“What are you going to play?” Silver asked.

“I’m not,” she clarified. “You are.”

He frowned.

“But – “

Before he could finish, Blaze closed her hands around the neck of the violin and guided it up to his neck, causing all of Silver’s objections to dry up in his throat. She adjusted the placement of his fingers, her breath tickling his cheek as she worked.

Silver could only watch on as she moulded his fingers like clay, placing each one precisely where it needed to be before turning to him. His heart hammered in his chest as she turned to him, eyes bright as a spark.

“Okay, that’s perfect. Now place your bow on the strings,” she instructed, stepping away to give him the room he needed. He felt a rush of cold air as she did so, filling up the space she had occupied. He tried not to dwell on it as he placed the bow on the strings.

“Lighter,” she said, and Silver lifted it until she nodded. “You’re doing great Silver. Now when you play, you want to make your movements flow like water so that the music can do the same. The jerkier you are, the more it will sound like your hacking someone’s arm off and not playing a beautifully crafted masterpiece.”

“No pressure then,” he joked.

“None at all,” Blaze replied back seriously. “Whenever you’re ready,” she added with a nod to the sheet music beside him.

Silver took a deep breath and played, barely completing a single stroke before the terrible screeching began to assault both of their ears. He stopped, huffing loudly at his own incompetence before he noticed Blaze studying him with a calculated gaze.

“You’re panicking,” she concluded, narrowing her eyes at him. “Here, I can help you regulate your breathing.”

The cat walked around until she was standing directly behind him and Silver shuddered as she snaked her arms around his side, pressing her hands gently onto the side of his chest. The sensation was warm and comforting and despite the fact she was so close, Silver did feel calmer as he felt her against him with every rise and fall of his chest.

“Do you want to try again now?” she whispered, her voice tickling his back quills.

Silver nodded and lifted the bow again. He closed his eyes, having already memorised the notes he needed throughout the morning and tried to focus on the girl holding him instead.

A small part of him wondered just how much of their current situation was just because of her needing an excuse to hold him rather than actually helping him. Probably a larger amount than she would ever admit, he concluded, but as long as she was with him, he didn’t mind the reason at all.

With a deep breath, Silver began to play. And for the first time all morning, he didn’t have to immediately cover his ears. Actual music flowed from his fingers as he grazed the bow across the strings. Sure, the melody was off, but at least the screaming had ceased.

Whether or not it was the soothing effects of having the woman he loved beside him or just pure luck, the shrieks had morphed into something someone might actually confuse for music.

He felt the pressure of Blaze’s hands and arms against him tighten just a little and it bolstered his confidence. His strokes became more adventurous as he tried to tame the creature in his hands, to create a unique melody, but the moment he felt Blaze’s head rest against his shoulder he ceased up.

The violin shrieked in alarm and both cat and hedgehog jumped at the sound. Blaze had jumped so far back that she was now no longer holding him, and Silver missed the touch of her against him, however small.

“I’m sorry, I guess I panicked again,” he said bashfully.

“No, don’t be. You were doing wonderfully,” Blaze said as Silver stood and placed the instrument in his seat. She rubbed her arms slowly, looking as if she was unsure what to do with her hands.

“You know … this was actually meant to be a surprise,” Silver admitted, scratching the back of his neck in attempt to lower the tension in the room. “I wanted to surprise you during your wedding, but I suppose my terrible musical skills completely ruined that, huh.”

“Silver,” Blaze said slowly, taking his face in her hands as he locked his gaze with hers. “It’s a beautiful gesture and I would be honoured if you would play for me during our wedding.”

“Right,” he replied softly, surprised he even had enough focus to do so with the intensity of her gaze on him. More than once he had wondered how anyone had ever survived looking directly at her and not falling completely in her thrall as he had.

“But,” Blaze said, tapping the tip of his nose with a gloved finger as she stepped away from him. “You are going to need a lot more practice,” she added with a smirk.

“More water, less hacking. I got it,” he called after her retreating form. He couldn’t be sure, but he was fairly convinced he’d spotted the shadow of a fanged smile as she disappeared from view.

...xxx...

Thank you so much for reading guys, let me know your thoughts if you can.

I’m sorry if this one seems rushed, but I couldn’t wait another day to get it up because I’m both lazy and impatient. Apologies if there’s any technical mistakes regarding the Violin, I tried, I promise.

I hope you enjoyed it regardless and I’ll see you guys soon for the next theme, FAIRY TALE (so much to do, so little time!) Thanks again, chao for now :)

#silvaze #threads of our sols #silvaze fanfiction #iheartsonamy

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kkruml · 6 years

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I don’t even know your name Chapter 21

@smoakingwaffles @missclairebelle what can I say that hasn’t been said? This chapter needed a lot of help and you came thru. Big time.❤

AO3

Previously

He paused, just looking at me expectantly, and reached into the pocket of his jacket. When he removed his hand, a band of silver engraved with a bloom of thistle was nestled between his fingers. Time seemed to stand still as I took in his smile; his eyes alight with wonder as he looked at me. I blinked hard; my heartbeat pulsed through my body as I tried for a deep breath.

“I want my arms around ye to comfort ye, and Christ, I want to revel in yer brilliance as ye heal. I lay myself at yer feet, praying ye’ll give me a lifetime to prove myself worthy of ye.”

He rose slowly, his gaze not leaving mine, as he slipped the ring onto my left ring finger. His hand slowly reached for my cheek, fingers wrapped themselves in my curls as his hand cupped my face. “Will you have me?”

I pressed my forehead into his; taking two deep breaths before tilting my face back towards his. “Yes. Yes, I’ll have you.”

I felt his smile as his mouth met mine, his lips warm and soft. Home.

Claire

I wasn’t good at this.

I could visualize the exact path of every major artery and vein in the human body and recite the muscles linking shoulder to calf. I could suture the delicate lining of the human heart.

But this? I was hopeless.

“Roses, then?” Jamie was staring down the row of various flowers and turned to face me, one eyebrow cocked. A small smile played at his lips as he took in my face.

I let a small laugh pass through my lips, shrugging my shoulders. The last time I had seen roses in abundance was draped over two coffins, side by side as Uncle Lamb held my hand, my life forever changed in an instant. I paused, trying for a gentle tone as I countered, “How about lilies?”

“Och, aye. I like it.” He smiled, his hand finding mine as he brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. “We could tie some thistle together and it’d be perfect, Sassenach.”

Six months down, three to go.

I had been adamant about waiting, not wanting to rush into marital bliss but rather to simmer in the peculiar sensation of anticipation and possibilities that came with the status of engaged. Jamie had been patient, but had taken subtle steps to keep the planning in motion. Well, he thought he was being subtle, but I just smiled and went along.

My thumb touched the silver band on my finger against my palm, sliding across the smooth surface and I smiled. He wanted a life with me, and for that alone I was willing to wear the dress, hold the bouquet, and smile for countless photos. What truly mattered to me was everything after “I do.” The ceremony of it all was important to Jamie, so it was important to me.

The market was alive with flowers, fresh produce, small booths with jewelry, and food vendors serving local fare.

“I saw a taco truck across the way- I’m gonna go see if they have any carnitas left,” he said, giving my hand a final kiss before unlinking our fingers and padding off through the crowd.

I didn’t need a big wedding- I just wanted the promise of James Fraser.

I watched as he whisked away with a bounce in his step, auburn curls visible despite the growing distance, towering above the crowd. I laughed a little as I shook my head- bloody Scot.

My bloody Scot.

“Claire?” His voice was thin. My ears perked to the cadence and my muscles tensed. That voice had said my name in moments of intimacy and I had once longed to hear it from his lips. I could imagine every line of his face in my head, and as I turned, all I felt was indifference at best and annoyance at worst. He was slightly off kilter as he took in my face; he attempted to steady himself, clearing his throat.

“Frank.” My tone was flat, short. My eyes glanced around but did not see any sign of blonde.

“You’re looking well.” his voice was a mix of disbelief and disappointment.

“Mmm.” Was all I responded as I nodded curtly, crossing my arms as one brow raised at him- waiting.

A swirl of wind circled us and my hand rose to my face, brushing a stray curl from my forehead and I caught his eyes locking onto my left finger. He paused, sighing deeply.

“Well that didn’t take long.” it was a thinly veiled jab, and one that years ago may have crippled my response. I would have retreated and apologized for something that wasn’t my fault.

Instead, I cocked my head, my eyes steady as I met his stare, “I’ll take that as ‘Congratulations.’ How kind of you.”

His lips pursed together as his eyes narrowed slightly. “So, who’s the lucky bloke?”

I heard the familiar rhythm of his footsteps behind me before I could answer. Frank’s eyes widened as his eyes shifted up towards the imposing shoulders I knew were now just inches from me.

JAMIE

“Frank.” Jamie’s voice was charged, barely in check, as he spoke through clenched teeth. He stepped forward, inserting himself between them. His chest heaved as he squared his shoulders, feeling every muscle contract- taking full advantage of his height.

He composed his face before responding, “You must be the poor unlucky chap. Have to say, I’m a bit disappointed.”

Jamie felt the almost imperceptible crack in his façade as his eyes bore into Frank’s. “Ye have some nerve.” His fingernails bore down into his palms, slicing half-moons into the skin as rage pulsated just beneath the surface.

Frank’s lips twitched as his head cocked, glancing at Claire before adjusting his posture. “I suppose I should congratulate you.”

“Mmmph.” One hand clenched, and he fought the twitch in his bicep and rush of disgust as it coursed through his veins.

This man hurt Claire.

“You should go, she doesna want anything to do with ye.” His eyes were focused, his voice held steady but he felt the slight tremble of his fingers as he tapped them against his thigh. His anger was just barely controlled, and his knuckles shook in anticipation of meeting Frank’s flesh.

“Excuse me,” Frank’s tone was condescending and dripping with disdain, “I believe I was having a conversation with Claire.”

“You dinna get to speak to Claire. Not after what ye did.” His accent was thickening and he felt his patience fray at the edges. His attempt at icy civility faded as Frank’s gaze crept back to Claire. Jamie’s shoulders were straight, upright like a soldier ready to charge. His eyes narrowed- cat-like, set with a fierce determination.

“Oh, you think you’re so different than me?” His eyes shifted from Claire to Jamie, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Don’t expect it to last long, not with this one. You’ll always come in second. Don’t expect her to sacrifice any of her time at that precious hospital. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

“That’s the difference between us, Frank. I dinna expect her to sacrifice for me. Claire is a fine surgeon, no thanks to you. Ye shoulda been proud of her… cherished every moment ye had with her. ” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Though I suppose I should thank ye- had ye no been foolish enough to lose her I wouldna be standing here, my ring on her finger.”

Frank scoffed as his jaw clenched. He took one more moment to stare at her. “You’ll see.”

“Ye think she’d ever take ye back?... Is that why yer here?” Jamie snorted and shook his head, breathing in deeply as he stared down at Frank. “After all ye put her through?”

Jamie took another step forward, closing the gap. This man thought he had the upper hand-that he could weasel his way back into her life, her heart. A jolt of electricity pulsed through his veins and for a moment he felt wild, almost feral.

As he contemplated another step, he felt a hand touch his arm, soft but secure. He looked down to see Claire’s delicate ivory fingers pressed into his skin, broken only by the glint of a silver band. He could tell it was a warning, but he could not stop himself.

His eyes shot back to Frank, “What kind of man doesna support the woman he loves? Brings another lass to the bed ye shared with her? No’ much of one.”

“Jamie, love. Can you please get me some water?” Her voice was soft but she eyes met his like a dagger. His brows furrowed as his eyes stayed on hers, before exhaling and throwing a final look at Frank. He placed a kiss on her temple, the heat pulsing through his lips as he lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

CLAIRE

“Bloody barbarian.” He scoffed. His posture visibly relaxing as Jamie disappeared into the crowd.

“You-” I started, my voice strained and struggling for civility, “Do not get to speak about him. Period.”

“Oh come now-“

“NO.” I felt the blood pulsing in my lips as I stepped closer to him. “When I met you, I thought you were the one. I thought I’d love you every day for the rest of my life.”

He winced at the last words as he maintained his stare.

“You broke what we had. You damaged me Frank. But I’m done with you- us, all of it. I’ve been done. You’ve made your choices, and I’ve made mine.” The silver band on my finger burned into my skin as I continued. “I choose Jamie. In a hundred lifetimes and a thousand years- I would choose him.”

His eyes met mine, a final moment of contemplation as I saw the wheels in his brain start turning, looking for an angle or crack in my words.

I stared back- my voice was strong and certain. “Every time.”

His eyes dropped to the ground as he nodded slowly, shoulders sunken in resignation. “Right, then.” His voice was quiet as he lifted his head to meet my stare, “Off you go.”

“Goodbye, Frank.” With that, I turned on my heel and took off in search of that bloody Scot.

I found him sitting outside the market, on a bench under a tree. Speckles of sunlight dotted the grass, leaves fluttering in the breeze created a shimmering pattern around his feet.

“Are ye alright?” His voice was controlled, but I could see his chest rise and fall- short, shallow breaths. He was still upset.

“Yes, no thanks to you.” I stood in front of him, arms locked around my chest as I watched him.

His eyes shot to mine, “Are ye mad, woman? That bastard doesna deserve yer time. Took all my strength to no’ drop him where he stood.”

“Jamie,” I said, a hint of annoyance enveloped my sigh as I looked at him. “That was uncalled for. That was not your place; you should not have inserted yourself into my history with Frank. I don’t need you grandstanding and swooping in like a bloody white knight.”

“Sassenach-” his voice was shaking and I watched the pulse at the base of his throat quicken. “Have ye forgotten? I saw how he broke ye.”

I blinked hard as I caught the edge to his voice, sorrow and frustration broke through and it stopped me in my tracks.

He ran both hands through his hair as he continued, his voice lower, slightly more controlled, “Christ, he had ye so scared to trust- to love again I almost lost ye before I could truly call ye mine.”

My breath hitched as I remembered that morning at Lallybroch. The pain, fear, and confusion that filled my every thought as I had fled. Was I being fair to him? Was I being fair to myself?

His eyes followed me as I stepped closer to him, taking a seat next to him. We were close enough to touch, but he kept his hands clasped tightly in front of him, his elbows resting on his knees.

He exhaled hard, his voice now quiet and hollow, “I was tryin’ to protect ye from-”

“Yes, I know.” Two deep breaths. “I know you want to protect me. That night at the restaurant- when I needed you to, you did. And every time since. When I’ve needed you to keep me whole and take on what I can’t, you do it- without hesitation.”

Warm, solid fingers slowly found mine, interlocking and pressing into mine gently.

“But I don’t need your protection anymore.”

His lips parted to speak, but he stopped as I squeezed his hand.

“I’m not broken anymore. I don’t want you as my protector;” I paused, feeling a smile curl at my lip, “I want you as my husband.”

“…and I canna be both?” his voice was honest, seeking truth.

“Of course you can,” I smiled, bringing his hand to my lips, kissing it softly. “But only if I can be yours in return.”

A flicker of sunlight found his face, illuminating a sea of deep blue as his eyes met mine, brows creased as he nodded slowly.

I sighed. I wanted to tell him just how much I loved him. But where words failed, I was resolved to show him. “Take me home.”

#idekyn #i don't even know your name fic #outlander #fan fic #outlander fan fic #look at that shiny new banner

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twdeadfanfic · 3 years

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Feral Pt.2

Daryl Dixon x OC

Summary: Daryl is on a run with Rick when, in a warehouse, they find a woman who attacks them, and who reminds Daryl to a lioness…or a feral cat, and who doesn’t seem to trust anyone, including them, but Daryl finds himself going back to the warehouse, trying to get that feral to go with him to the prison, and to earn her trust.

Chapter 2/10 Words: 3848

My new series, I hope you give it a chance even if it’s an oc instead of an usual reader. You can find my other fics in my masterlist.

On the next morning, Daryl was again at the warehouse doors. He’d tried to think how to make the woman trust him, come back to the prison with him, but he hadn’t come up with anything. Sighing, he knocked on the door.

“Hey…it’s Daryl. I brought you food and water…I’m gonna leave it here and step back, alright?” Daryl left the package of dried meat on the ground next to a bottle of water, and he took a few steps backs, waiting, until finally the door of the warehouse moved.

The woman lifted it up just enough to look outside and check that Daryl was alone and without any weapon aimed at her, and he rushed to hold his empty hands in front of him, unwisely unarmed once again, his knife sheathed on his belt and his crossbow on his bike. Once she was sure, the woman lifted up the door completely. She looked at Daryl with those deep, black eyes that seemed to look deep inside him and then glanced at the food.

“Take it, I go out hunting every day and we also have gardens, we got enough food to spare,” Daryl explained, he didn’t know why. “Same with the water, we pump it inside from the creek outside the prison. If you came with us, you wouldn’t be hungry or thirsty again.”

The woman didn’t say anything, just looked at him again, holding her knife and silent, and Daryl wasn’t surprised. He chewed on his thumbnail, wishing he knew what to do. “You got a name?” He asked her, and there was no reply. “No? So…I’ve been thinking of you as a feral cat so…I’ll call you that, uh?” He half-joked, unsure of how she was going to react.

There was again that scoff but also a smirk, and the same words. “Screw you,” she rasped, and then she shrugged, looking down. “I like cats.”

Daryl thought those were as many words as she’d ever told him and he couldn’t help his small smile. “Cats are okay…I like dogs.”

“Yeah?” The woman frowned at him…she was talking to him, she wasn’t hiding or attacking him…this had to be progress, but Daryl wasn’t sure of how to move forward from that.

“Yeah…why?”

“You look like you like cats.”

Daryl blinked at her, puzzled. “Why?” He asked but the woman just shrugged. “It ain’t that I dislike them…I like them, I just like dogs more.”

“’Cos you never had a cat, then.”

Daryl couldn’t believe that they were really talking…he hoped he wouldn’t screw it up. “Maybe…never had a dog before either…you ain’t the first feral cat I feed, though…” Daryl smirked at the woman, turning into a full smile when she smirked back, still on alert but not as guarded and on edge as she had seemed once, at least she didn’t look like she was about to flee or stab him at any moment, even if she was still holding her knife.

She chewed on her lip and then stepped away from the warehouse and towards the package of food, bending down to pick it and the water. “Thanks,” she murmured.

“It’s…it’s fine, just…come with me?” Daryl tried again. The woman looked at him, then down, seeming torn, but she shook her head softly. Daryl took a deep breath before speaking again. “I know it sounds impossible, but it ain’t. You’ll be safe with us, I promise. You won’t have to hide alone from walkers or people no more, or go hungry. Just come with me. Nobody will hurt you again. I promise.”

Daryl thought that some sort of emotion seemed to reflect on the woman’s eyes, but soon she was looking down, and Daryl was going to give up, when she spoke. “Why?”

“’Cause…’cause you look like you need it. And I can help you…so I wanna.” Daryl shrugged.

“I hurt you,” the woman said, eyes on him, and Daryl hoped that she really didn’t think this was all something that he was doing to get back at her in retaliation or something.

“Yeah…but you were scared, you thought we’d hurt you,” Daryl told her, wishing that he could make her trust him somehow. “I promise this ain’t a trap, just trying to help.”

“In exchange of?”

“Nothing.” Daryl frowned at her. “I don’t want nothing…back at home, we all do stuff, like jobs, we help to keep the place going,” Daryl explained awkwardly. “So, once you’re with us, you can do…I don’t know, anything you are good at, you can take watch or something. But nobody ain’t making you do something you don’t wanna. I promise it’s safe. Come with me.” The woman was looking at him, silent for a long while, and Daryl was about to give up again, defeated, when she nodded.

“Okay.”

“Really?” Daryl couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth when the woman nodded. “Okay…you got something with you? Pick it up and we are leaving, alright?” The woman walked back into the warehouse without a word, and Daryl was afraid that she was not going to come back outside, but she had left the door open and soon she was walking out again, carrying a small, tattered backpack. She glanced at the package of food on the ground.

“Take it with you,” Daryl said, and the woman did so, and then looked at him with those eyes that were wild and guarded, but also scared and sad. “Come on, let’s go,” Daryl told her softly and the woman took a couple of hesitant, slow steps towards him, still looking like she might run away at any moment, still clutching her knife, but Daryl couldn’t see her stabbing him now. “You don’t have to be scared. It’s safe, I promise, nobody is going to hurt you again.”

The woman looked at him hesitantly, but then the smallest, briefest of smiles tugged at the corner of her lip, and Daryl felt some weird emotion at it, as if something had squeezed his heart. He’d made it, he’d gotten her to trust him enough to go with him and she’d be safe. He’d brought into the prison a couple of other people already, and Daryl always liked it, but this time, after worrying at the woman alone there, after how much it took to convince her, Daryl was even more content about it.

She guided the woman towards his bike and then looked at her. “The prison ain’t too far, it’ll be okay.” He swung his leg over the bike, sitting down on it and looking at the woman, who seemed reluctant and unsure, but then she sheathed her knife and hold onto the bike’s seat to swing her leg over it, getting situated behind him. She didn’t hold to him, instead grabbing the metal at the back of the seat, where Daryl carried his crossbow.

“You ready?” Daryl asked looking back at her and the woman seeming still hesitant and nervous, but she nodded, and Daryl kicked the bike into motion.

Daryl didn’t ride fast, he didn’t know if it was the woman’s first ride, and he stopped once they could see the prison. “See…that’s our place. Fences, walls, it’s safe.” He turned to look at the woman, who was glancing at the prison in disbelieve, but she seemed afraid too, and Daryl hoped that she wasn’t thinking about just jumping off and running away. “There’s gonna be people at the door, they’re gonna ask us stuff, but they ain’t gonna hurt you, it’s gonna be alright, okay? Don’t be scared,” Daryl told her softly and the woman still seemed nervous, but she nodded.

Daryl rode to the doors, and the man on guard duty frowned at them. “Daryl, who’s that?”

“She’s…uh…” Daryl looked back at the woman, who once again seemed like she was going to jump off the bike and flee at any moment. Yeah…he couldn’t say to the man that she was feral cat. “She was alone and needed help, I’m bringing her in, it’s alright.”

“Okay.” The man nodded and opened the door, and as always, Daryl was surprised at how much everyone in the prison trusted him and respected him, totally the opposite of how his life had been until not so long, and he couldn’t be more grateful for it.

Daryl rode inside, driving the bike away from the yards and orchards and to where he thought there would be less people around, he didn’t want to parade the woman around, knowing that she was scared and defensive, it could go wrong, and he didn’t want people coming to ask questions. Still, there were people coming and going outside as always, working on this and that, and they looked at them, some with curious eyes, some understanding, others worried, scared even, but Daryl understood. Everyone had their story.

He stopped the bike away from people and turned to look at the woman, who still seemed like she wanted to flee, looking around at everything with wide, scared eyes, and Daryl hoped she wasn’t regretting to have gone with him.

“Here we are,” he told her, and the woman looked at him in a way that brought the image of a feral yet afraid cat to Daryl’s mind again. “It’s okay, don’t be scared. I’ll show you inside, you don’t have to speak with anyone that you don’t wanna.” The woman seemed more than hesitant as she looked at him, and then she looked past him and Daryl could see her getting on edge again. He looked back and saw that Rick was approaching, followed by Carol and Maggie. “Don’t worry, it’s going to be okay,” Daryl rushed to tell to the woman before stepping in front of her.

“What’s this?” Rick asked.

“You know her, the woman we found in the warehouse.”

“Yeah, the one who kicked me on the nuts.” Rick nodded, glancing at her. “What’s she doing here?”

“I went back, talked to her, she changed her mind, decided that she wanted to come here.” Daryl shrugged while Rick kept studying the woman. “You asked the questions, said she could come. So I brought her.”

“We have to talk to her,” Maggie said.

“Not now, she…give her a bit of time, okay?” Daryl told Maggie, hoping that she’d take a look at the woman and understand. “I answer for her.” Maggie seemed hesitant, but then she nodded.

“She’s dangerous,” Carol said.

“No, no…” Well, yeah, she could be for sure, but still… “She’s just afraid…she doesn’t know we ain’t gonna hurt her, she doesn’t know this ain’t a trap.”

“She has to leave that knife,” Carol said and when Daryl looked back, he saw that the woman had grabbed her knife and was clutching it as she stood behind his bike, looking again like she wanted to run away and ready to pounce on any threat.

Daryl approached her, raising his hands in front of him, afraid that he’d managed to get her to come there for nothing. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he told her softly. “They’re not going to hurt you. Nobody will. But we got people here, people we gotta protect, yeah? So we all have to be careful when new people come in, so we are all safe…you too. You don’t gotta be scared.”

The woman looked at him, then at the others, then back at him, eyes boring into him, seeming so hesitant and on edge, that Daryl wasn’t sure of what she might do, but then she was swallowing hard and sheathing her knife, and Daryl nodded encouragingly at her before looking back at the others.

“Let her keep it, she won’t hurt anyone,” he assured them and he sure hoped that he was right and all his instincts weren’t lying to him on this. “She’s scared of us.”

Rick kept looking at the woman and finally he nodded. “Alright.” He looked back at Carol and Maggie. “It’s okay, Daryl and I will walk her in.”

“You’ll be safe here,” Maggie told to the woman.

“As long as Daryl’s right and you won’t try to hurt anyone,” Carol warned, not one to trust easily, but Daryl looked at her, silently begging her to trust him and not make things more difficult. “Alright…let’s go Maggie.”

As Maggie and Carol walked away, Rick approached Daryl, eyeing the woman before looking at him. “Where do we put her?”

“There’s an empty cell next to mine…” Daryl answered awkwardly, shrugging when Rick arched an eyebrow at him.

“Alright…so you’ll be able to keep an eye on her.”

“We don’t have to, she ain’t gonna hurt anyone, she’s just scared, man, I told you all already.” Daryl rolled his eyes, walking to the woman. “Come with us, okay? Don’t be afraid.” The woman looked at him, still seeming very hesitant and unsure, and almost about to flee, but she nodded, and she followed him and Rick towards the cellblock. Once at the door, though, she stopped, seeming unsure about walking in, and she again looked like she might run away. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Daryl rushed to tell her softly, afraid she might try to flee the prison and get hurt. “No one is going to hurt you here.”

“Daryl is right,” Rick said, noticing the woman hesitance and fear. “If you are not going to hurt us, you don’t have to be scared of us, you’ll be safe here.”

The woman still seemed hesitant but she took a shaky breath and nodded, and she followed them inside, looking around at everything with wild eyes as they walked her towards the cells, and Daryl could almost see all the million thoughts in her head, and he tried to nod reassuringly when she looked at him.

“There we are, your cell,” Rick told her. “Come on, get in, all yours.”

The woman began to shake her head, though, seeming about to run again. “No,” she rasped as she began to backtrack. “No.”

“Hey…hey…” Daryl didn’t know how to calm her down. “Hey, it’s okay.” Daryl tried to think quickly, and something came to his mind. “Look, look.” He reached out and grabbed the door of the cell, opening and closing it a couple of times. “It doesn’t lock, yeah? It’s okay.”

The woman still seemed about to freak out, but she looked at him. “Key,” she muttered and Daryl nodded.

“Yeah…yeah. Rick, get her the key,” Daryl said and Rick raised his eyebrows at him but nodded, going to the office where they kept those. “I promise this is not a trap and you ain’t in danger,” Daryl told to the woman, who said nothing, just keep staring at him with those deep eyes, and Daryl tried his best not to look away as he wanted to.

They both stayed silent until Rick rushed back to them. “Your key,” he told to the woman, giving the key to her. She tried it, locking and unlocking the door, and then looked at Daryl, who nodded reassuringly at her. The woman walked into the cell and closed the door behind her, locking it and checking that it couldn’t be open. Once she seemed content with it, she looked around at the cell, seeming to inspect it even if there wasn’t much but the bunk beds and a small bedside table.

“Well…we’ll leave the introductions for later, yeah?” Rick said and the woman ignored him but Daryl nodded gratefully.

“Yeah, just…let her be today? So she can see that we ain’t gonna hurt her?” Daryl glanced at the woman, who was inspecting the mattress, and back at Rick.

Rick seemed to think it but he nodded. “Alright, no council until tomorrow, but she can leave the cell if she wants, go eat with everyone or just…see more people, if you are with her and make sure she doesn’t try anything.”

“Rick, I told you, she ain’t dangerous for us, she’s just scared.”

“I know…but you too know that we can’t be too cautious, we have to protect our people,” Rick said and Daryl knew, but he still didn’t want to make the woman feel pressed or threatened. “I don’t know how you managed to convince her to come…but good job at it.” Rick seemed still guarded, but he gave Daryl a small smile, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder, and Daryl relaxed a bit.

“You need something?” Daryl asked to the woman when Rick left, and she shook her head. “You got food and water, yeah?” He was sure that the woman wasn’t going to want to go eat with everyone else or leave the cell. She nodded, taking out of her backpack the packages of dried meat and the bottle of water, hesitantly leaving it on the small table. “Good…”

Daryl looked at her, unsure of what to do or say, maybe he should leave her alone. The woman sat down on the mattress, still looking around the cell. “Want some sheets or something for the bed? I can get you some.” They had a stack of those in the laundry room, he thought. “I’ll get you some.” Daryl decided when the woman just shrugged. “I’ll be back soon, don’t be afraid, okay? Nobody is gonna hurt you and you got the only key to the cell.”

The woman didn’t say anything, and Daryl went to the laundry room to find her some bedding. People came to ask him about the new woman, and Daryl tried to be patient, tried not to snap much at them, trying to explain to them that she needed space to feel safe, without lashing out much at them much on the process…he thought he managed, most of the time at least, people seemed to get it, and one woman even gave him some spare clothes for feral cat

The woman seemed to hear his footsteps approaching, because she was ready with her knife at the other side of the door when Daryl came into view, but she lowered it when she saw it was him. “Hey, it’s okay, told you nobody is going to hurt you,” Daryl told her. “But you can’t grab the knife every time someone comes or you are gonna scare them, alright?” Daryl thought that more or less everyone would understand her reaction, but he didn’t want to risk anyone thinking of her as a dangerous threat to the prison’s safety.

The woman didn’t say anything and Daryl handled her the bundle of clothes through the cell bars. She took it and left it on the bed, inspecting it. “Got you sheets and also clothes, if you wanna.” Still not a word. “Do you need something more?” Daryl thought that the woman wasn’t going to say anything, but she did.

“Said you have a supply of water?”

“Yeah, yeah, we do.” He nodded. “So you can go ahead and drink it all, I’ll bring you more.”

“Thanks,” the woman muttered, and then she began lifting up her shirt. It took Daryl a second to realize that she was undressing and he turned away quickly, blushing. At least that meant that she liked the clothes, he guessed.

“I, uh…I…” Daryl babbled, flustered. “I’ll leave you alone but…my cell is right next to yours so…if you need anything just…uh…just call me…” Daryl walked to his cell but he didn’t walk in, finally deciding to just sit at the outside of it, back against the wall that separated his cell from the woman’s, hoping that that way he could hear more easily if she needs something, and see if someone else was approaching the cells and risking to startle the feral cat.

Suddenly, there was a ripping sound from the woman’s cell and Daryl frowned, glancing inside. She had taken off her clothes and Daryl saw more old wounds and scars across her dark skin, like he had noticed on her face and neck before, and once again he wondered what that woman had gone through. He was glad that she was safe now. She seemed to have ripped a piece of fabric from one of the sheets and was pouring water from the bottle into it before brushing it across her arms, washing herself.

“We uh…” Daryl looked away again quick. “We got showers…if you wanna…not real showers, but, yeah, work like…there ain’t too cold…”

“No,” the woman said and Daryl didn’t press it.

“Alright…uh…most people, they uh, they got curtains on their cells, for privacy and uh…it blocks the light if you wanna sleep or whatever…” He explained awkwardly. “They’re just sheets or blankets, or any piece of fabric…I could bring you one, you don’t need to use any of your sheets for it…if you wanna…”

The woman didn’t say anything, and Daryl wasn’t sure about leaving her there alone and…and naked, it seemed, though he didn’t check again. Finally, he decided that maybe the woman would feel more protected if she was able to hide from the exterior. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Daryl went back to the laundry room, once again trying to dodge people’s questions, and back to rummage through the closets in which they stored all pieces of fabric that they found, not only sheets or blankets, and that were used for this and that, some people even sew clothes and stuff with them. He didn’t know which one to pick, but he spotted one that made him smirk. He couldn’t believe his luck. Grabbing the fabric, he rushed back to the woman’s cell.

He peeked shyly inside, but she was dressed now, hand on her knife but without unsheathing it. “Hey,” he called for her. “I got something that I think you’re gonna like.” Daryl unfolded the piece of fabric, showing it to her. It was deep blue in color, with cats’ silhouettes in silver. The woman looked at it and then at Daryl, the corner of her mouth tugging into a tiny, brief smile, and Daryl couldn’t help his own. “I’ll help you hang it, alright?” He said as he passed the fabric to the woman and helped her to fix it on the door like a curtain.

Once he finished, the view to the inside of the cell was blocked, and Daryl thought that the woman would retreat inside, but she tugged the new kitten curtain open slightly and looked at him. “Thanks,” she murmured.

“Ain’t nothing…” Daryl shrugged. “Give me your bottle of water, I’ll refill it.” The curtain fell over the door until the woman tugged it open again. She unlocked the door and opened it just enough to hand him her empty bottle of water, and Daryl took it.

“Dana,” the woman said before Daryl could leave. “My name.”

“Dana…” Daryl repeated, a smile tugging at his lips, glad that the woman had decided to tell him her name. “So…I ain’t calling you feral cat anymore, then?” He joked softly and the woman smirked.

“I like that too.” She shrugged.

“Alright…” Daryl couldn’t help his smile. “I’m gonna bring you some more water, cat, just wait a second.”

So, the feral cat when to the prison! Even if she didn’t seem to trust anyone but Daryl.

Thank you all for the support, it really keeps me posting. If you enjoyed this and have a moment, please let me know your thoughts.

As always, excuse my English, is not my first language.

If you want to me (un)tagged let me know.

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