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peachyloveswriting · 2 years

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Long past dawn (Yancy x reader)

Summary: taking event about a month after the events of ISWM Yancy calls you asking for a place to stay, now that he's on parole. But you can't seem to remember your last visit with him, nor can you remember the past month very well either. It seems Mark's to blame when he shows up at your doorstep asking for a favor

Word count: 1.9k

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Notes at the end

Chapter 1

Your phone rings beside you. Glancing at the number, you don’t seem to recognize it. Maybe it was Mark calling to harass you again, you thought. After setting down the bowl in your hands, you scoop the ringing phone up and answer.

“Hello?” You wipe your mouth.

“Hey, is this y/n?” the speaker crackles to life in your ear. Furrowing your brows and standing, you pace. The voice sounds familiar, but it wasn’t someone you could remember off the top of your head. You rack your brain only for a moment longer before speaking again,

“Yes. Who is this?” You asked. The curiosity was getting to you. Maybe it was a cousin of yours who had only just now remembered you existed. It’s such a foolish thought.

“Youse really don’t remember me? It’s Yancy, your old pal from Happy Trails Penitentiary.” He mocked a pout, but the smile was still clear in his voice. The smile soon enough made its way onto your face as well. The fond memories reminded you of the time the two of you had spent together for those few hours. It was such a lasting impression. It surprised you, you even forgot. You note, it was probably because of Mark.

“I’m so sorry. Of course, I remember you.” Trying to sound over the top happy really didn’t work out the way you’d hoped. It made you sound like a douche. You just pray that Yancy didn’t notice.

A dry laugh crackled through the speaker. “It’s okay. I know it’s been a while.” He pauses, choosing his next words carefully. “Say, uh… would youse maybe come and get me? I applied for parole, but youse already knew that. I was hoping to crash at your place. And maybe stay there.” Inquiry lingered in his voice, sounding almost more like a suggestion than anything.

But before you could answer, Yancy interrupted you. Tripping over his words as he went.

“I mean, ya’ know. I just.” He huffs, “I have nowhere to stay, and if youse say no, that’s okay. I don’t want youse to feel you have to let me stay.” His voice trembled on the other end of the line, and his words jumbled together right at the end.

“Yancy, buddy. It’s okay. You can stay as long as you like. It would be nice to have some company, anyway.” Reassurance felt necessary. He was literally starting over again, and maybe he needed someone.

“Seriously? I don’t know how I'll repay youse.” He exclaims. His voice is still shaky, but you can hear him clearly now.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” You stated. Turning away from the front glass door, you walked back to the table and picked up your soup. Using your shoulder to hold the phone to your ear, you grabbed yourself another spoonful of your soup.

“Thank you,” He chirped.

Not wanting to make it appear you were ignoring him, you hummed. Swallowing the food, you finally spoke. “Of course, it’s not an issue.”--setting down your bowl again you grabbed a notebook and pen --’’ So where are you at?” You asked.

“Right outside of the prison, actually. They’re letting me stay until someone comes to get me.” He explains. You hum. The memory of the way to the prison was fuzzy in your head, but you somewhat knew where he was talking about.

“Alright, I’ll be there shortly.” You said.

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you soon.” He chirped again. A breathy laugh escaped you.

“Yeah, m’bye.”

“Bye.”

The call ended with a click. You gathered your things for a rather long ride. It would be hell on the way there, with traffic being shit and the anticipation killing you. The end goal was more important than how you got there, though. Excited would be an understatement in all honesty.

As you were rushing back through the house, you noticed your bowl still sitting on the table. Not wanting it to go bad, you placed it in the fridge. Probably the only semi-real food you’d eaten in a while. Living off of takeout wasn’t fun. And you didn’t want to waste perfectly excellent soup.

⭒✩✦✧✦✩⭒

Google maps had been your savior on the way there. Damn near getting lost three times off of memory alone. It was embarrassing, but no one would know. You thought it silly for being embarrassed to begin with. But you got there in one piece and in a relatively good timeframe. It really must’ve been the universe blessing you, for that you were thankful. After all, you were sure that even on the interstate, going over one hundred in the fast lane was illegal. Now that you were off the interstate though and on a relatively empty road, the excitement built.

The sight of the prison in the distance made your stomach churn. It was a good thing none of the workers there seemed to remember you miraculously. Maybe it really was the universe giving you a break, you note.

The outside walls of the prison are bare, the barbed wire at the top different in contrast to what the place was actually like on the inside. The Area in which Yancy sits is uncanny. To have a sitting area and a garden outside of prison just didn’t fit. He fit it though, wearing the white tee and striped pants from when you first met him, and in his lap, he had a black leather jacket.

Yancy leaned back against the bench, one arm outstretched on the back and one ankle resting on his knee. His eyebrows were knit tightly together and his eyes squinted against the light of the sun.

The butterflies fluttered around your stomach as you stepped out of the car. The anticipation was building.

When he saw you, he jumped to his feet, his jacket draped over an arm and a folder in one hand. He practically bolted to you. You opened your arms with a wide smile, letting him tackle you into a hug. It was like fireworks were going off inside you. The joy was unexplainable. You didn’t know him that well, but it felt like you were seeing a best friend for the first time in forever.

“Oh my god, it’s so good to see youse again, youse do not know,” Yancy exclaims as he pulls away from the hug. A smile wrinkles the skin in the corner of his eyes, and there’s a glow to him now that you can see him fully.

“It’s so good to see you again, too. Seriously, it’s been so long.” Sincerity lingers in your voice. He shifts from one foot to the other, his hand lifting to scratch his head.

“Yeah, it has.” He agrees.

Lifting your hand, you point towards your car.

“C’mon, it’s hot out here.” You suggest. He agrees quietly. Now that you thought about it, you weren't entirely sure what to say to him. But you were eager to fill the silence as you drove away from the prison. Gazing over at Yancy, you could see him watching the prison disappear from view in the rear-view mirror.

“How’s it feeling?” You ask.

Yancy looks at you, his brows furrowed. “Huh?”

You ask again. “How does it feel to be free?’ You glance at him before turning back to the road ahead. Humming in thought, Yancy shifts in his seat. The folder formerly in his hand now rests on the dashboard in front of him. Something about him seems restless now as he stares at it intensely.

“I'm not sure yet,” he drawls. You nod your head. Who could blame him? After all those years in prison, you wouldn’t know what to do or how to feel either. Just years before this, he never even thought of leaving. He didn’t want to. And to just be torn back out into society again was probably a huge mental challenge. Again, he didn’t want to be free, to begin with. So, what changed his mind?

“Why’d you go on parole?” Unable to recall him telling you why you didn’t second guess your knowledge.

Yancy licks his lips and takes a deep breath before he speaks. He’s looking at you now, a mildly concerned look on his face, eyebrows furrowed, and lips ever so slightly down-turned into a frown.

“Youse don’t remember?” he sounded hurt, and that scared you. Biting the tip of your tongue softly, you questioned what you knew.

“I’m kidding,” he said with a smile, “Kinda.” Your heart dropped.

To think that you had even forgotten what he told you hurt. It pained you to think about how hurt he must feel by your seemingly inconsiderate reactions. He probably thought you weren’t listening.

“It’s okay though, I’ll still tell you.” He’s noticed the visible distress on your face, even if you didn’t.

“Thanks.” You mutter, a sheepish smile on your face.

Yancy smiles, “Of course!”-- he chirps before briefly pausing--” Youse the reason I got parole.”

You freeze. He barely knew you and you were the reason he suddenly wanted to be free. It warms your heart. His words are too kind for your previous actions. But to forget that, of all things. It saddens you.

“I can’t believe I forgot that.” You shake your head slowly, loosening your grip on the steering wheel. “I’m so sorry, Yancy. It warms my heart to think that I’m the reason. Thank you for that. I’ll make it up to you though, I promise that.” You announced your newfound lawful voice perhaps too justifying, making Yancy cackle.

You smile at that.

“Sorry if that sounded rather prideful,” you remark with a grin.

He giggles again, “S’okay, it was funny anyway.”

Silence falls back over you, opening your mouth to say something before you stop, deciding against it. If he wanted to talk, he would. You didn’t want to push him.

"By the way,"-- Yancy snaps you from your thoughts — "we have to stop at the department of corrections so we can give them your address n' stuff.." He explains.

You nod.

He seemed so regular now that you thought about it. You had only ever seen him in prison, so there's a reason. The idea of what he’s like outside of that life urges you to think about it. The vision of you and him making your ways around the kitchen, his hand resting against the small of your back as he scoots past-

"I also need clothes." Sarcastically he gestures to his outfit. You smile, a light heat rising to your cheeks.

"We'll definitely be going shopping after we get the paperwork done." You deadpan.

He lifts his arm, running his fingers through his slicked-back hair.

"I'll pay youse back once I get a job." You glance at him again, sending him a dismissive wave with your hand.

"No, don't concern yourself with it." You pause, thinking of your next words. He broke you out of prison, you remember?

"Think of it as a favor for breaking me out." You remark, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

Yancy smiles and the skin around his eye crinkles up. "Thanks, it means a lot, seriously. I don't know how many times I've said thank youse." — he chuckles, deep — "but I'll say it as many times as I need to."

You smile at that.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°|

Thanks for reader the first chapter I hope you enjoyed. This took me a really long time to feel satisfied with how it turned out but once I finally had what I felt was good enough I felt really happy so I seriously hope this get as much attention as I hope it does. I'll be posting the chapter links in my master list.

Tags: @batty-the-red-koolaid-man @abbzzzzzz @dragonangel201

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