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justalittleegg · 4 months

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CC WEEKEND BASH DAY 2!!

I'm making this the same day as my day 1 post so it's not as hype.

@and-stir-the-stars

PROMPT: HAUNTING / FAMILY

This is set in my AU that I don't have a name for in which Henry goes crazy and commits murders because Charlie got cromched in the Bite of '83. Mike is his first murder as revenge. Basically a William / Henry roll swap.

Evan is CC. Evan's POV.

TW: murder,

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It had been three months since Michael was found dead in a back alley. Two deaths in the span of a couple months, it was strange, especially considering Henry's absence from work and... life, I guess.

I mean it seemed connected; Mike killed Charlie and now he was found dead in an alley, it had to have a meaning.

I couldn't be bothered looking for that meaning though. I couldn't be bothered doing anything actually. I didn't draw, I didn't speak, I didn't even eat much anymore. I mean, what was the point? With Michael gone life felt, empty.

I missed his jokes, his drawings that were way better than mine, and, in a way, I missed his senseless bullying.

You never realise what you've got until it's gone.

Before his death, I thought I didn't like Mike, the thoughts of his scares and his mask were all that filled my mind. But in retrospect, I had so many good times with him that feel so much more important than the bad.

Like this one time just after school. I was in my room, crying after a bad day at school. Mike came in, probably to scare me, but seeing me like that, instead he just sat down, took out a piece of paper, and began to draw. After a moment he lifted up the drawing. It was a rabbit in a top-hat and monocle. It was so silly it made me stop crying. He started teaching me how to draw like him; it's what got me into drawing in the first place.

I was at the pizzeria sitting at a table, alone, quiet. The only reason I was here was because there was no one to watch us at home. I had to be here while Dad worked.

Dad had gotten over it so fast, or at least it seemed that way. The pizzeria was temporarily shut down for a couple weeks while things were getting sorted out, both with the police and funeral services. I had been at two funerals over the past half year; Charlie's and Mike's.

Charlie's was just how I thought a funeral would be. People crying, boring speeches that never really said much about the person other than 'they were nice', and an overall vibe of sadness.

Michael's was different though. Sure people still cried but it wasn't the same. His friends were there; I didn't know they're names. They shared actual stories about Mike and actually knew him. I guess it's since he was older, he actually did stuff. It was just, less sad and more... bittersweet, I guess.

Elizabeth was here somewhere, probably with her friends. She had taken it well too, not as well as Dad, but still pretty well.

I don't know haw they can all just move on and act like it didn't happen, act like two of the people closest to us hadn't just died. I quietly stared down at the table and began to sob while kids played around me and concerned parents watched on.

Suddenly, a slender figure was in front of me. I looked up, it was the security puppet that Dad and Henry had installed after Charlie's death to keep people safe. It had a thin, black torso with long, striped arms. It's face had two large eyes, a wide grin, and curiously, tear streaks from it's eyes that I didn't remember being there.

It was holding a piece of the children's drawing sheets from the pizzeria labelled 'My Happiest Day!' in one had and a couple crayons in the other. It placed down the paper and began to scribble in a way I had never seen it done before.

When it was finished, I looked down at the sheet.

It was a drawing of a rabbit in... in a top-hat and a monocle...

Just like Mike had drawn.

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#crying child weekend bash #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddys #crying child #tw murder #murder

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dire-kumori · 4 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Elizabeth Afton & The Crying Child, The Crying Child & Henry Emily Characters: The Crying Child (Five Nights at Freddy's), Elizabeth Afton, Henry Emily Additional Tags: The Crying Child is Named Evan Afton, Elizabeth Afton and The Crying Child Live, Dead Michael Afton, Nightmares, Corpses, not suuuuper graphic but not NOT graphic either, suffocation, only mentioned - Freeform Series: Part 1 of Crying Child Weekend Bash, Part 2 of Ever After & Side Stories Summary:

Prompt 1: Nightmare

Fredbear emerged from the fire, golden fur blackened and peeled away to reveal its mechanical innards. It laughed. Horrible, cackling laughter as black smoke poured from between jagged iron jaws. Its eyes burned with hellish flames. Fredbear took a shuddering step forward, claws outstretched towards Evan.

“L-l-l-l-l-l-l-LOOK! It’s th-th-the the the the b-birthd-d-day b-BOY! Wo-would you l-like a h-h-h-hu-HUG!?”

Evan spun on his heel and ran.

#fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #FNAF #Five Nights at Freddy's #my writing #Evan Afton #The Crying Child #crying child weekend bash

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koalasandcats · 4 months

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Hey everyone! This is my first time sharing my work online! A little nervous but anyway-

CC's weekend Birthday Bash: @and-stir-the-stars

Prompt: Nightmare

Evan’s soft footsteps padded down the hallway, careful not to hit the squeaky floorboards of their family home. He held his breath creeping as still as a shadow, or a ghost in the night.

The 7-year old clutched his yellow bear tightly, stopping in front of a white door with flowers dotted on it’s painted wood. He cast a glance behind his back, but the only thing to greet him was the red wallpaper of his home and the grandfather clock at the end of the hall.

He raised his pale fist against the door, letting it tap. But he barely heard a rustle in the air. He took a deep inhale in, as he lowered his hand to the handle creaking the door open.

“Liz?” He whispered. He paused at the doorway peeking in and looking at the sleeping ginger-haired girl in bed. “Liz?” Evan said a little louder, watching the girl stir, blinking up at him.

“Ev? It’s way too early to be up…what’s wrong?” Elizabeth yawned, casting her glance to her alarm clock, at the ungodly hour of 3:00am. Elizabeth turned on her bedside lamp, illuminating her room in a warm yellow light.

“I had a nightmare…” Evan whispered, pulling Fredbear up to mask his red cheeks. Father said big kids didn’t cry. Mikey said only babies get scared by nightmares.

Lizzie sighed pressing her fingers to her temples. Evan instinctively was about to trudge back to his room before she held a hand-up.

“No Ev, you can stay. Just don’t expect this every night.” She shifted to the side of her bed, as Evan took a step forward. His shoulders were tense as he lowered himself to Lizzie’s mattress, but the expected push never came. His back pressed against her mattress, as she stared at him with pressing green eyes.

“Why don’t you go wake up daddy? Why come to me?” Liz asked sounding a little exasperated. Evan hugged Fredbear tighter, as he stumbled over his words.

“He…doesn’t like me bothering him. Big kids don’t have nightmares.” Evan stuttered, his brown eyes not meeting Elizabeth’s green. Elizabeth snorted letting out a small chuckle, putting her hand on Evan's shoulder.

“Sure they do. I still have them. And I’m sure Mikey has them as well.” Lizzie put her mouth close to Evan’s ear as if telling a secret. “Daddy probably has them too.” Lizzie chuckled softly to herself, but Evan could only give a small smile. How could his father have nightmares? He seemed like some dominant force, unmovable, unbreakable. Elizabeth never cried after her nightmares, or beg to sleep with someone and neither did Mikey. He was the crybaby of the family, the odd-one out.

“And nightmares can't hurt you.” Elizabeth said, squeezing her brother's hand. Evan remained quiet. He knew that, of course he did! What really hurt him was the vividness of monsters pounding on his door, the noises of the hall. His own sister didn't understand it, nobody did.

Elizabeth gave Evan a pat on the head before turning back to face the wall.

“Get to sleep Evan, and if you have any nightmares wake me up.” Elizabeth said softly, pulling the covers over her and her brother. Evan felt like protesting, but his weary eyes soon drooped. His monsters could wait for another day. Trusting in his sister to keep him safe, he shut his eyes.

Tomorrow is another day

#crying child weekend bash #TW: Implied Emotional Abuse

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cloudwhisper23 · 4 months

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It's day 1 of the #Crying Child Weekend Bash by @and-stir-the-stars!

Day 1: Nightmare/Blood/Fun

Warnings: Blood, Character death, Emotional abuse, Corpses

It’s just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. The words echoed in his mind over and over and over. How many times had they said that, knowing they were lying? How many times had he witnessed the terrors of the other children as they woke up into a new nightmare?

He watched. He witnessed as they wondered about the puppy, or the prize, or the rare toy, not noticing the knife.

The animatronics wouldn’t eat people, his father assured him. They weren’t capable. Yet he’d seen the bloodied bodies go into the suits, never to come out again.

It wasn’t really the same, he knew. Still, the teeth from his dreams prevailed.

When his father brought back Michael’s friends, he thought it was different than the little blonde girl. He really did. But then, they were screaming, just as she’d screamed. It wasn’t more than a nightmare. Not really.

Still, the bodies went into the animatronics, one by one. He wondered if they’d wake up. He wondered if it mattered.

And then came the fifth child. She chewed on her fingernails, not seeming to notice the darkness of the room or the sadistic smile on his father’s face. She didn’t know she was about to wake up into a nightmare.

“You keep the cake back here?” She sounded confused more than anything, if not a little nervous.

He wondered if she was like him. Shy, with the sense that strangers were not trustworthy. That animatronics counted as strangers who’d end lives.

Maybe that was why he did it. Maybe that was why, when his father raised the knife, he raised the suit.

Fredbear, who’d been completely still since that fateful day, rose to his full height, controlled like a puppet.

“It’s just a nightmare,” he whispered softly, watching his father’s face as recognition spread rapidly across it. “You’ll be just fine. All you have to do is wake up. Go to your parents.”

He was done with the nightmare. He was done letting it consume children. The true nightmare had been right in front of them all, all along. Waking up was the true nightmare. He just hadn’t realized until the little girl screamed for her parents upon watching him snap his father’s neck.

How poetic it was then, to feed his father’s corpse to the one animatronic that hadn’t lingered in his nightmares.

He wondered if he’d have nightmares about this. He wondered if it mattered.

#cloud writes #crying child weekend bash #cc weekend bash #cc fnaf #william afton #the missing children #tw blood #tw emotional abuse #tw character death #tw corpses #if I'm missing any warnings #let me know!

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and-stir-the-stars · 4 months

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showing up fashionably late to my own event :D

day one: fun

au: grab&go au summary: the au is really complicated but all you need to know is that an adult Michael accidentally time travelled and brought his amnesiac brother to the future; Mike tries to raise Evan, but Mike isn't always the best parent

tw: crying, child neglect, implied depression

...

“Ev, buddy, you’re pulling at my arm so hard, it’s gonna come off in your hands.”

Rolling his eyes, Evan only tugged at Michael’s arm harder. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Oh, no.” Michael dug his feet into the ground, staying in place even as the twelve-year-old tried moving him. “I think I’m hearing a pop, Ev.”

“Mike!”

Evan wasn’t quite sure how the adult did it, but suddenly, Mike’s arm disappeared, and Evan was left holding only his empty jacket sleeve. Ev stumbled on his feet, almost falling as the resistance he was pulling against disappeared.

“Look what you did!”Michael said with a playful smirk. “My whole arm is gone!”

“No, it’s not! Put your arm back in your sleeve, Mikey!”

“You’re no fun.” Grumbling, the twenty-six-year-old took back his sleeve and forced his arm back in.

“I’ve been trying to get you to watch this with me all week, Mike! Stop messing around.” Wasting no time, Evan grabbed at Michael’s arm the second it was back in the sleeve and started tugging again.

“But messin’ around is the only thing I’m good at.”

“Miiiiiiiike.”

“Alright, alright!”

A beaming smile split Evan’s face in two as he tugged his guardian into the living room and to the couch.

“Okay, okay, sit!”

Evan placed his hands on Mike’s lower back and pushed him toward the gray sofa.

Mike listened, but– as Mike often did– only halfway. Michael didn’t sit on the couch, but rather collapsed onto it so he was sprawled across the whole thing, with no room for Evan to sit next to him.

Evan winced at the awful creaking groans that emanated from the couch when Mike fell onto it. “I didn’t say to break the couch.”

“Eh.” Michael waved Evan’s tease away without comment.

“Are you going to sit up?”

“Nope.”

Evan frowned at Michael for a moment.

He had been wanting to watch this movie with Mikey all week now. Every time Evan had asked, though, Mikey had said he was too tired from work, and they’d definitely watch it tomorrow.

Michael had said that exact thing for six days in a row. Evan had started to think they’d never actually watch it together.

Evan would try to remind himself that it wasn’t Michael’s fault.

Evan knew that money was tight. Mike worked a late night shift, so he was always tired during the day, and now that Mike had taken up a second job to work during the day, too…

He shouldn’t be frustrated that Mike was so tired all the time that Evan barely got to see him anymore.

Mike was doing the best that he could. Evan knew that.

Mike had finally agreed to watch the movie, but he was still tired. The ever-present purple shadows under Mike’s eyes were darker than normal, and deeper too. The adult’s eyes were still ever so slightly bloodshot. His movements were slow and sluggish, though Mike was doing his best to hide it.

Evan tried to ignore it– maybe Mike needed to get more sleep, but surely watching a movie first wouldn’t hurt? It was only an hour and a half, and then he’d leave Mike alone to sleep as much as he needed to before work. But watching Mike lying across the couch instead of sitting on it, worry wiggled inside Evan’s chest, gnawing on his heart in painful bites.

“Ev? You gonna start the movie or what?”

Evan blinked. Then, pushing his worries aside as best as he could, Evan smiled. “Lemme get the popcorn!”

The twelve-year-old dashed to the kitchen, his socked feet slipping and sliding across the floor from how quickly he moved.

He and Mikey were going to spend a whole hour and a half together! They hadn’t spent that long together since Mike had started his second job three weeks ago; Mikey had spent all his free time at work or sleeping. They used to talk all the time when they ate meals together, but Mike hadn’t been eating at home too much anymore.

But a whole hour and a half! Evan couldn’t keep still as he waited for the popcorn to finish in the microwave. He bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet, his fingers tapping excitedly against his thighs.

Evan had been so excited to find the Teen Titans: Trouble in Tokyo CD in a box labeled “free” at the library. He and Mike had watched the show together years ago, back when Mikey still had more free time, but neither of them had realized the show had a movie, too!

It would be so nice to get back into a passion the both of them had once shared.

Jamming his finger into the button, Evan took the popcorn out of the microwave and poured half the bag into a bowl so he and Mike could share.

Evan ran back to the living room, spilling the stray bit of popcorn along the way.

He didn’t waste any time in shoving the half-full bag of popcorn into Mikey’s hands, hitting play on the tv, and settling down to sit on the floor with his back pressed against the couch, since Mike was still lying across the whole thing.

“I still can’t believe we didn’t know there was a movie.” Chuckling, Mike launched a few popcorn kernels at Evan’s head.

“Hey!” Evan ran his hands along his long, unwashed, tangled brown hair.

He had grown it long to look like Mikey’s, although Mikey didn’t know it yet. Nor did Mike know that Evan had been skipping showers so he wouldn’t have to wash his hair, because Mike’s hair was always greasy and tangled, too.

Once he was certain he didn’t have popcorn in his hair, Evan stuck his tongue out at Mike. “Jerk.”

Mike smiled at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Pipsqueak.”

Evan shook his head at his guardian, but elected not to fight back on the ‘pipsqueak’ allegations. He knew that wasn’t a battle he could win.

“Thanks,” Evan said, quiet but genuine. “For taking the time to watch it with me.”

“Of course.”

…

The conversation lulled once the movie started, but it was quick to pick back up again. The two pointed out jokes in the movie that they liked, made sarcastic replies to the characters’ dialogue, and pointed out things in the movie that they had missed from the show.

As the movie went on, though, Mike became less and less talkative.

Twenty minutes into the movie, Evan watched with a giggle as the Teen Titans walked through a fancy office, and Beast Boy eyed a big red button. The character’s gloved fingers reached to press the ominous button, only to be slapped away by Raven.

Twenty minutes into the movie, Evan looked up at Michael with a smile and a joke on the tip of his tongue.

The joke died on Evan’s tongue when he caught sight of his guardian.

Michael's eyes had slipped close.

His face, which was ways tense in pain and exhaustion, was smooth, unwrinkled– peaceful, even.

Mikey had fallen asleep.

Evan hit pause on the movie and looked up at Mike again, like he had only been seeing things the first time, and Mike would look at him in annoyance and say why did you pause it? I was having fun; play the movie!

Michael's chest moved slowly, calmly up and down. Drool trickled down the corner of his mouth. His eyes were still shut.

Twenty minutes into the movie, and Mike had fallen asleep.

Evan sat there on the floor, staring up at Mike like the adult might suddenly wake, like it might be revealed that this was all some joke and the last several minutes hadn't happened; Mike had been awake the whole time; haha, you should see the look on your face; okay, okay, Ev, play the movie now, no more jokes, I swear.

Mike started to snore in his sleep.

Evan turned the tv off.

He stood to his feet, grabbed the paper popcorn bag from the couch as quietly as he could, and took the bag and his bowl to the kitchen with slow, quiet steps.

He came back.

There was a blanket draped over the back of the couch for occasions just like this. Grabbing it, Evan tugged it off and threw it over Mike. He tucked his guardian in as best as he could with how Mike was sprawled all over the couch, one arm and a leg laying off the edge entirely, and made sure Mike would be warm in his sleep.

Then Evan sat down with his back against the couch, right where he had been settled to watch the movie.

He didn't know why he sat there again. But he sat there for a long time, staring at the black tv screen with an empty hole swallowing his chest, leaving behind nothing but aches and sharp edges that he was too numb to really feel.

The tv screen wasn't completely black. The longer Evan sat there, the more he became aware of the reflections shining in the empty black screen.

From the television screen, Evan could see a couple canvases hanging on the beige walls behind them, from back when Mike still painted. There was a shelf behind them, too, decorated with a few books and pictures of himself and Mike in standing frames, though there were more pictures of Evan than there were Mike.

He could see Mike behind him, too, the adult's face soft and peaceful in sleep, his chaotic near-black hair poking out from the blanket in many different directions.

The twelve-year-old could see himself reflected on the television screen, too.

Evan watched as a big fat tear leaked down his face and dripped from his chin onto the carpet.

Evan wasn't sure how it happened, but between one blink and the next, he was sobbing. His entire body trembled with each loud, labored breath; his hands clenched desperately at his shirt, digging into his chest like he was falling apart and if he just grabbed hard enough he could keep his ribcage together with his bare hands. One hand floated up to his face, rubbing desperately at his cheeks and coming away wet before clamping over his mouth to stifle his sobs.

Evan stayed there far longer than he should have. He knew he should have moved away to cry, rather than risk waking poor Mikey up.

But deep down, selfishly, desperately, Evan wanted his Mikey to hear him crying and wake up. He wanted Mikey to sit down beside him, wrap him up in his arms, whisper a joke in his ear, and noogie his hair. He wanted Mike to say he was sorry for falling asleep, to tell him to put the movie back on and promise that everything was going to be okay.

None of that happened.

Michael didn't hear him.

Evan stayed sitting and crying alone on the living room floor, with Mike so close but so far beyond his reach.

In a couple hours, Mike would groggily get up and make his way to work.

The next day, Mike would apologize for missing the movie and promise they could watch it together soon.

The next day, Evan would lie laugh and say they didn't need to– honestly I fell asleep way before you did; I didn't even notice that you fell asleep during the movie. The movie wasn't even that good; it was kinda awful, actually, not really any point in watching it…

But for now, all Evan could do was pick himself up on wobbly knees, force himself to his room, and crawl alone into bed as the tears dried on his cheeks.

#grab&go #grab&go au #evan afton #michael afton #michael smith #crying child weekend bash #cc bash day one #fnaf #the afton kids #fnaf fic

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rosewaterandivy · 10 months

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https://youtube.com/shorts/QuNRoe29bPA?feature=share

Something like that? PLS

Love you <3

Wow, thanks so much for the request! I tweaked it a bit to fill one of the prompts from here, hope that's okay. Love you 💜

83. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

When you told him what you and Eddie would be up to Saturday night, Steve groaned so loud you could swear the couch vibrated.

You can’t be serious. And leaving me at the mercy of the gremlins?

“Yes,” you grin, “I’m sure the Harrington babysitting service can handle it.” And then you’re off to get ready for the party. “Knowing you, you’ll probably have some hot date booked for after you’ve dropped the gremlins off.”

It’s not that Steve worries, really he doesn’t, because you’ll be with Eddie and Robin will show up at some point, so at least you’ll be safe. But Saturdays were for movies with the party, taking full advantage of Steve and Robin’s (five-fingered) employee discount at Family Video and hanging out.

Recently, it’s been the only time when he can see you—busy with work and classes and helping Eddie with his GED. All your free time was accounted for, used up, leaving nothing left for him.

He tried (and failed) to be accommodating about it.

This resulted in frequent calls to your house, which your mother or father usually answered with thinly veiled annoyance (Sorry Steve, she just left. No, I don’t know when she’ll be back), interrupted study sessions at Forest Hills (Eddie’s exasperated, ‘Dude, what the fuck. You’re infringing on my right to an education here.’), and drop-ins while you were working at the diner.

In short, it was becoming a problem.

So when you mentioned, last minute mind you, that Eddie needed a hand dealing for a party this weekend and you’d agreed to help out, Steve took it about as well as could be expected.

Which is to say, not at all.

It’s bad enough that he’s making them watch Rocky IV, according to Dustin. But Steve pays him no mind and pops the tape into the VCR. The kids grumble and complain, but otherwise occupy themselves by half-watching the saga of Rocky and Drago.

His leg won’t stop bouncing as he reclines against the couch. It continues for the whole movie. When the film concludes with Apollo’s tragic demise, Max starts sorting through the rest of the tapes.

“What else is in here?” Throws out a few titles as she sees them, The Color Purple, 101 Dalmations, Out of Africa—

“Nope!”

Steve nearly hip checks Lucas in his haste to wrestle the tape from Max. They grapple for a bit, nearly coming to blows but Steve’s not about to hit a child and a girl at that. This sense of chivalry does not stop Max from smacking him upside the head, but he’s victorious in the end.

“And why can’t we watch that particular one?” Dustin ventures with a curious glance to Lucas before Steve settles back on the couch between them.

“I’ll, uh,” he stashes the tape behind the sofa, wedges its case against the wall. “Tell you when you’re older.”

Dustin and Lucas continue to eye each other warily.

Then El pipes up, “Friends don’t lie.” And before Steve can stop her from what will inevitably be an embarrassing calamity—

“It’s a … sad movie,” she continues, “The last time he watched it, he cried.”

Oh. Shit.

He wants nothing more than to bash his head against the wall, but can’t risk another concussion according to the doctors and literally everyone else. Maybe the earth could swallow him whole instead? Anything to end this humiliation.

“Didn’t you watch that with—” Mike begins, because he is an asshole.

“Oh yeah,” Dustin confirms, “They watched it like, a few weeks ago. I mean, her crying I get,” he turns to Steve, an incredulous look on his face, “But you—”

“Robert Redford is a good actor, okay?” He rushes to defend himself, “Very convincing.”

“Okaaayy,” Max drawls.

An uncomfortable silence ensues. The kids settle on watching Clue while Steve takes an opportunity to refill drinks and snacks. Tries to ignore the furtive whispers from the living room. Tries to focus on the popcorn in the microwave and not imagining what you may be up to at the house party with Eddie.

“Why don’t you just ask her out already?” Will says when Steve returns from the kitchen.

The group falls silent, awaiting his response. Keep your cool, Harrington. He sets the bowl of popcorn on the table, doing his best to ignore Will’s probing question. Is almost successful until—

“Steve, you’re literally in love with her.”

He scoffs at Lucas’ blatant betrayal. Helped the kid practice everyday after school leading up to tryouts and this is how he’s repaid?

“No,” he says with a tone to convey the end of this conversation. “We’re friends, just friends and that’s it.”

A beat of silence as everyone pretends to watch as Tim Curry greets the six strangers upon their arrival to the mansion.

Dustin coughs. “Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at her, Steve.”

“Oh my god.” Max looks like she wants to brain herself on the edge of the coffee table at the stupidity of it all.

“Fuck off.” Steve huffs in annoyance, “Like I’m gonna take advice from a bunch of high schoolers.”

“Dude.”

“We’ve saved the world.”

“Like, multiple times.”

“And,” El annoyingly points out, “It’s good advice.”

Thankfully, Steve is saved by the bell. The phone trills its ring from somewhere beneath the couch cushions. Unable to find the cordless, he’s forced to answer it in the kitchen.

“Harrington residence.”

There’s music thumping and cross chatter down the line as he tries to make out who’s calling.

“Steve?”

“Rob, that you?”

A laugh, “Yeah, s’me. How you doin’ babe?”

Her voice has taken on that light, dreamy cadence it gets when she’s tipsy or high and, knowing her, it’s probably both.

“Uh, fine.” He turns to check on the kids in the living room, “Watching Clue. Did you need something?”

“Oh my god,” she rasps, “I love that movie!” A hiccup followed by a chuckle. “Nah, I’m good babe. I’m calling for someone else.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that.

“Rob, you know you called my house, right? The kids are here, if you wanna talk to them but—”

“Nonono Stevie,” she says in a rush, “M’callin’ about your girl.”

“My… girl.”

“Yep.”

The sounds of the phone being handed off to someone else. A few breaths and then, “Hi Steve.”

And oh.

Your voice is low and breathy through the phone, he can hear you giggling about something to Robin as you pull the speaker away from your mouth ‘I’m on the phone Buckley.’

He melts, just a bit. Because he knows that tone very well— when you fall asleep leaning against his shoulder during movie nights or take a brief nap sitting shotgun in his car, all raspy and sweet.

“Hey honey,” he coos, voice incredibly fond. Steve turns, closing himself off from the din in the living room. “Y’doin’ okay?”

“Mmhm, tired though.”

“Is that right?’

A yawn. “Yeah,” he can hear the pout in your voice, “Rob doesn’t wanna leave yet and Eddie went upstairs with someone like, forever ago.”

Steve’s already grabbing his keys from the counter. “Stay with Robin, okay? I’m coming get you.”

“Thanks Stevie,” you sigh prettily, “You’re the best.”

Dustin (unhelpfully) advised him to get flowers before he left, so Steve put Max in charge, out of spite. Which unfortunately broke the levy for a barrage of romantic advice from literal children: hold the door, make eye contact, give her your jacket and be on the left side of the sidewalk.

It’d be endearing if it wasn’t so tragic.

He rolls up to the house to find not only Robin, but Eddie too, at your side seated on the sidewalk. He crosses the hood of the car as you stand with a soft smile, “Sorry Steve,” you say, less sloshed since the phone call, but still tired. “Didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“C’mon honey,” he scoffs, “There’s no way you could ruin my night.” He ushers you to the passenger seat, arm around your waist. He can smell the beer from the keg and stale cigarettes on you, laced with the comforting scent your perfume.

He shuts the door after reminding you to put on your seatbelt and turns back to Eddie and Robin. They look like they’re up to no good— Eddie’s smirking and got that glint in his eye that says he’ll be a problem, all the while Rob has a dopey grin on her face.

“She’s had water and we took the drinks from her a while ago,” Eddie says, waving back at you from the sidewalk. “Try to have her eat something.”

Steve rolls his eyes. Like he needs advice from a dungeon master on how to deal with a drunk.

Robin blinks owlishly, “Ooh, Hardee’s, get her that.”

Steve laughs as Eddie shepherds Robin away. Says something about not fucking it up and using protection. He can’t bring himself to care as he slides back into the car. The radio kicked on as he starts the car, David Byrne rhapsodizing about a girl as she was.

He watched as you bop to the song in your seat, bringing an affectionate smile to his face— eyes closed, hair whipping back in the cool night breeze as you sing along. The axels squeak when Steve pulls into the drive-thru lane.

Try as he might to keep his gaze on you, to watch you a little longer, the intercom sputters to life—a young boy’s voice greeting mechanically but trying nonetheless to adhere to Hardee’s hospitality best he can.

The burger you’d gotten—medium, double meat, bacon, all toppings between—has completely fallen apart in a splat back onto the wax paper in your lap.

“Here, honey.”

He fumbles for napkins. But you wave his worries away, licking your fingers before diving in to deconstruct your food.

“Sorry—I promise I have my shit together.” Another giggle, “Not doing well here. Makin’ a mess your car and everything.”

“I, uh, I think you’re doin’ great.”

The words slip out before he can catch them and around a mouthful of fries, you thank him, and then you take a breath, and he can literally see you winding up for another enormous bite.

“Sorry,” you pause sheepishly, “M’ starving—skipped lunch on accident.” You take the enormous bite he saw coming, and then, “Also doesn’t help—mm—nervous.”

Steve chews on a fry and slurps his soda, driving with ease. “Nervous ‘bout what?”

You swallow and steal his drink, “Weren’t you on a date?”

He blinks.

You blink.

He blinks again.

“No, I was watching movies with the kids.”

His face is so hot that he thinks someone must have thrown a fire into him. Should he have just gone along with it instead? It’s old news by now that King Steve had turned in his crown for a walkie-talkie and chauffeuring a bunch of teens around.

A beat passes and he tries again, now at the end of the meal and the stain on your shirt starting to sink in and spread, heavy enough to dip toward the skin beneath. “Do you want to take your shirt off?”

You choke on soda and add another splatter down your chest, “What?”

“You can wear my jacket,” he clarifies. “Give it back later. I mean, if you…” He frowns. “Uh. Um.”

The beemer comes to a stop in front of he Harrington house. Lights still on in the living room signalling that the party is still there.

You changed out of your shirt, ducking down in the front seat bashfully (“Look away, damn it.”), your old t-shirt in a crumple inside his pocket. His jacket hung a bit loose, but zipped up all the way and it was a good enough cover for a while.

There’s a smear of grease on your cheek from the burger and Steve knows it’s just a personality trait at this point. He laughs when you stick your tongue out, trying to find exactly where it is before giving up and asking him to wipe it off.

He shoves his hands in his pocket afterwards, thumb jammed inside his fist like a souvenir, keeping it there the rest of the walk up the drive, all the way up to the front door of his house before he wonders if he should have been trying to hold your hand.

Maybe not.

“I missed this,” he says, brushing his shoulder against yours.

You hum, knocking your hip against his. “Thanks for dinner,” you say, looking up at him.

“Yeah, of course.”

“And picking me up.” A beat passes. “And the jacket, too. It’s really nice… comfortable and, uh, smells… good. Like, cinnamon and… nice body wash and… trees.” You make a queasy face and close your eyes for a second, pinching the bridge of your nose uncomfortably as Steve looks on.

Oh, he realizes. You must be woozy.

Oh, he realizes. You’re gonna hurl.

“Steve,” Your voice is small and tight, and you look like you’re struggling to take steadying breaths. “I gotta sit down.”

“Right,” he replies. You laugh, rubbing the back of your neck before he turns and unlocks the door.

The kids are passed out on the sofa and reclining chairs in the living room. He locks the door and sneaks you upstairs, hands politely on your waist to steady you on your feet. Guides you to the left toward the guest bath and flips on the lights.

“You alright?”

The fluorescents cast you in a hazy yellow glow, squinting at the bright light. You paw at the countertop for something, water? You turn to open a drawer and find a spare toothbrush— the blue one, yours, a freebie from a check-up and gloop some toothpaste on the bristles. With a nod in response, you begin to brush your teeth, faucet running as you fill a cup of water.

Steve leaves you with a clean washcloth and towel, should you need them, and goes to check that his room isn’t a complete disaster. Bed sheets are clean-ish and he doesn’t have time to run them through the wash, though there’s always one of the guest rooms…

“Hey.”

He startles slightly, not hearing you walk in. You’ve toed off your shoes by the door and are looking sheepish, lip pulled between your teeth. “Can I borrow some clothes?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Steve pulls open some drawers, rifling through for something for you to sleep in. Throws your top into his hamper while he’s at it. He turns back to you with a ‘Hawkins Athletics’ shirt that’s seen better days and a pair of flannel pajamas. Shoves them toward you awkwardly and then promptly turns around to let you have some privacy while you change.

“Thanks.”

He makes a strangled noise of confirmation and clears his throat. “No problem.”

Hearing the rustling of sheets, he turns back around and catches sight of your bare leg as you hunker down in his bed. Heat rushes to his cheeks when he spies the pajama pants neatly folded and placed on his nightstand. You turn on your side, burrowing and fluffing the pillows to your liking.

Steve makes quick work of brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed. Shoes by the door next to yours, jeans shucked into a pile by his desk, keeps his shirt on for the sake of decency, and slips in next to you.

“I appreciate you coming to get me, y’didn’t have to do that.”

His arm drapes against your shoulder while you snuggle into him, casual affection being the norm between you two. He swallows thickly, tries to regulate his breathing when your hand rests against his chest.

“What’re friends for?”

“Hmm,” you consider for a moment. “Friends may not be the most accurate term.”

Steve bristles at that.

“What do you mean?” He turns toward you, heart racing— did you not want to be friends anymore? Did he do something wrong?

Your face is impassive, blank. Steve couldn’t even begin to guess at what you’re thinking, is afraid to even try.

Then, you smile.

Fuck. That smile.

“S-so, not friends then?”

Steve is not a religious man, but he prays that your smile means what he thinks it does. Slowly reaching toward you, he brushes a lock of hair from your face, fingers grazing your cheek.

Mischievously, you lean in, touch him soft on the lips and every beat of his pulse seems to be seeking out the sweet plush of your mouth. “If we were just friends, I shouldn’t wanna kiss you so bad, but we both seem to be … not good… at following decorum, so…” Your eyes light up teasingly, “What d’ya say?”

Steve makes a noise like a whimper. Wow. Babysitter extraordinaire with a bat of nails under his bed and it’s your smile that does him in.

You kiss him again, longer than the last, giggling softly and tugging on his bottom lip like you could pull his entire body toward you with just that. “I’m sure we could find a few more rules to break.”

#steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #reader insert #ways to say #steve harrington fluff

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connectionterminated13 · 4 months

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It's a story in the universe of run of my au's gears and rot, The basic idea is the robot kid theory is true William built a robot Evan and a robot Elizabeth then realized how weird it was and shoved them in the murdered clown basement. Then the events of sister location happen Mike is about to get himself Scooped Evan intervenes but Mike still suffers serious internal bleeding since the scooper grazes him, he then "dies" from. Now the 2 are off on a quest to find William in hopes of freeing the Spirits.

Sorry the summary took so long, This is my submission for the first days prompts Nightmares/fun! I'll get into it now! Anyway I hope you don't mind but @and-stir-the-stars :3

It was cold. It was dark and it was quiet except for the sounds of Father's footsteps. The Others make no noise. Father would be mad if they did. Evan was waiting for the sound of his father's footsteps, Because that meant his father, the most wonderful man in the world, was coming to say hello! He double triple checked to make sure his illusion discs were on his father didn't like it when they weren't!

He couldn't help but vibrate with excitement as the door swung open. “Well I see they've made you quite at home…” His father kneeled down, Evan waiting for permission to hug stared at his father's wonderful face. “You can talk now if you'd like” Evan could barely help himself he jumped up and down excitedly he could talk. This was going to be the most fun visit In the entire world!

“Well it's been a while since I've seen you but the nice nice technicians put me in this nice nice room and put me in this clown outfit which I don't really like but They said you like it so that made it a lot better also I got to play with the fun fox and we drew fun pictures you want to see them!!?” Evan could feel his voice box overheating with how fast he said the words it had been so long since he got to talk to his father. There was so much to talk about that this was going to be so wonderful.

“I thought they would have fixed that by now…”His father muttered as he surveyed the room as well as looking Evan up and down. Evan's room was amazing. He had his very own blankets and two pillows that he had stacked up in the corner to make a little cozy Nook, where he could read his Two books!

Other than that the room was empty if he ignored the corner where he had put the bear. His father had told him he was supposed to love the bear but he didn't. He hated the bear. Evan pretended to like it when his father was around like now he picked up the bear and snuggled it close trying not to gag touching it.

His father looked over all of it, seemingly bored. “Where did you get the blankets and the books.. Don't remember giving you those”. Evan excitedly ran over deciding he had hugged the bear for long enough. He picked up one of the books and proudly presented it to his father. “Ballora Got it from a nice kid at a party, and she said I was a nice kid, so she gave it to me!”

His father didn't say anything for a moment before running his fingers through Evan's hair. “Evan remember we don't take things from the animatronics, Especially not things with blood on them!” His father gently took the book from Evan's hand. Evan wanted to grab the book back but his father was right.

“After all, we don't want your Nice clown outfit or Fredbear getting dirty?” His father said haphazardly throwing the book out the door. One of the technicians would pick it up and throw it out. This is what his father wanted so Evan knew it must be right

“Know why I visited today, Evan?” His father said changing the subject but Evan didn't even notice because his wonderful, amazing, kind father was beaming down at him. Evans' eyes Glowed with excitement. “Is Lizzie coming back? Because I missed her a lot and so did everyone else and I have all these nice drawings to show her!!! I've also been sad without her here so please say she's coming back!” Evan tried to make a frown like in his book but he couldn't.

His father stopped and the smile disappeared from his face. “ She was bad, remember? And you were bad too when you took the book and when you took the blankets and the pillows? You were also bad when you dropped Fredbear, you're supposed to love Fredbear, remember he's your favorite?”

Evan looked down. “I miss Lizzie... I know you're so wonderful but could you please give her back, what she did that was so bad?” His father looked down at Evan, his loving wonderful father.

“Pick up the bear. It's your job Evan you are supposed to be my son and my son loves that bear..You wouldn't want to let me down after all the hard work I've done to keep you safe do you?” His father looked down at him coldly. Even shrunk away, his father was right he was being so selfish. But something in him, something wrong, told him to push harder.

He wanted Elizabeth back so much… He tried to not think of her like father told him but he couldn't.. He missed the way she used to sing him lullabies and tell him wonderful stories. “Where did she go? What did she do wrong? please Daddy please bring her back..” He quickly wrapped his arms around his father's legs holding as tight as he could without hurting him.

“Don't touch me…” He felt himself being pushed then falling. Evan landed on the ground, He felt one of his face plates click open with the impact. The illusion was broken.

“Just like she wasn't Elizabeth you'll never be him… You're just cheap metal and Spare circuit boards..The disc doesn't make you look like my son… And you can't even pick up a stupid bear when you're supposed to.” His father's voice was cold

“You know those blankets in books are probably covered in agony, you know what I could do with that? and you selfishly hoarded it all for yourself..” His father's voice was filled with such.. Evan's programming wouldn't let him say the emotion in his father words, since his father was wonderful and wasn't capable of hating him

“I'm sorry…” Evan got to his feet, his father was so right. Why did he ask more questions? What was wrong with him and why was he so broken? He thought this visit would be nice but he had ruined it..

He picked up the bear as his father stared at him and hugged it close to his chest. Evan could feel himself beginning to shake, which didn't make any sense because his father loved him and everything was happy and perfect!

“Remember Evan sorry isn't good enough you don't do it in the first place…” Evan crumpled to the ground in pain as the shock ricocheted through him.

His father loved Evan so so much

“I don't know why you're doing all these things. You are not programmed too, you're supposed to sit here till I need you..” More lightning harder this time

Father loved him with all of his heart

“But of course I shouldn't be surprised I'm such a brilliant inventor of course I made you… alive”

Evan's father loved him so so much

all Evan's father could do was love

Evan turned to the side trying to find a position that would make the horrible electricity hurt less.

The mangled remnants of his sister's face stared back at him.

Evan could barely move, the pain was too intense. His sister's face plates were broken hanging open at wrong angles, her endoskeleton once made of beautiful curved metal was rusted, And her eyes always glowing that bright calming green were now dark black.

All he could do was stare there at his sister's broken form as the lightning continued to surge.

“But of course not all of my genius rubbed off on you. You don't understand anything really… After all, you think you're a child.. You're a machine built to kill and sit there when I want you to. Nothing else.. Never to be human, you'll never even have that half life the others have, you will always be an unthinking uncaring sack of metal”

His father loved him

The pain was getting worse

Evan just wanted to crawl away from everything to bury his head in his blankets and pillows and books and cr-

—------------------------------

He looked around the room frantically. The lightning was gone, it had only been a dream. But he could still feel his body buzzing. He slowly lifted his upper body up off the bed, The familiar noise of metal scraping against metal comforted him slightly. Which didn't make any sense. His dream had been mostly wonderful! His father had been there and his father loved him.

Evan was in the same place he was last night, cozy in the hotel room's bed. It was just a nightmare. And there quietly sketching on the bed next to his was his brother. Having his brother Michael here was almost as good as having his father. Just like his father Michael was wonderful and loving! The only downside was that Michael was sick and no matter what Evan did he never got better.

But that was not a worry right now. The real worry was why Evan felt so scared.. He knew the feeling of being scared was a bad feeling his father had told him that before but he couldn't help it. It made him want to clutch his foxy plush Tighter and run over to Michael. And deep down it made him not want to love his father which was equally as scary as the fear itself.

After what felt like a couple minutes Michael looked up from his sketch and startled. Evan didn't understand why Michael startled so much. His father had been startled sometimes when the illusion was broken, but Michael was startled all the time. If the illusion discs were off he startled and if they were on he startled more

“Ev You're awake I'm sorry! I'm just.. I'm sorry” Michael got off of the bed and then just kind of stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do.

Evan tilted his head making his ever-present smile wider. He liked the way that Michael stumbled over his words.It made his sentences like a roller coaster, or what Michael had told Evan roller coasters were like.

“Oh Christ you're shaking! A-are you okay??? Do I need to do something??? What do I need to do!?” Michael had noticed Evan was shaking. He kind of looked around the room as if someone would tell him what he was supposed to be doing. That scared Evan more his father didn't like it when he shook, what would Michael think?

“Nothing! just a dream! Oh it was so wonderful father was there and I was back in my old room but before Dad removed the blankets and pillow! And it wasn't exactly a dream it was more of a memory.. it turned into a dream at the end because Elizabeth's body wasn't there in Memory…. Then it got scary and there were a lot of electric shocks, it hurt but it's okay because Dad loves me…?” Evan spoke quickly trying to get the words out he didn't like thinking about the dream but hopefully it would make Michael not be so startled

“One of those nights huh…” Michael sat next to Evan on the bed. Evans stayed quiet just looking at his brother tracing the green Swirls and potholes that littering his skin.

“Am I alive?” Evan hated how scared he was, how he couldn't stop shaking, How the question sounded so wrong and yet so true as it vibrated through his metal head

Michael sat there thinking for a moment before saying. “You're not alive in the same way I'm n-not I don't know how to…” Michael paused again, looking uncomfortable with the subject matter “We're not alive in the same way Dad was alive-or is alive-” Evan couldn't parse through the amount of spite, hope and every emotion in between loaded in that or is still alive

“-and that's good because Dad was a dic-Garbage bag who treated us both like garbage..”

“Father's wonderful and he loves me” Evan said the words without thinking but they were true his father loved him.

“Funny I forget you're a robot sometimes..” Michael gave a small smile and a small chuckle.

Evan didn't understand what him being a robot had to do with this but nodded.

“You know what, let's have some fun tonight!” Evan looked confused slowly getting out of bed as Michael got up and ripped the sheets off of his own bed. “How about we spend the rest of the night in a nice and cozy pillow fort?!” Michael's smile faltered “ If you're not too tired..”

Evans' eyes lit up with joy. A pillow fort, a real pillow fort! With real blankets and pillows not stained with blood… Yes of course he was grateful for the room that William had given him and he didn't deserve the pillows or blankets. But a real pillow fort was just so wonderful

Michael continued to stand there, the blankets and pillows from the bed still held awkwardly in his greenish arms.

“Only if foxy is allowed in.” Evan held foxy close. Evan liked foxy a lot more than the bear.. Foxy was a cool pirate and Foxy didn't make him feel scared.

“Of course Foxy's allowed in and Dad isn't!” Michael added on noticing Evan's look of confusion "Yeah I know he's not here but when we're in the blanket fort, you don't have to talk about how wonderful he is… he's not here so you don't need to do that anymore..”

Evan nodded, that it made sense it was still hard to wrap his head around a place where his dad wouldn't be allowed but it seemed nice.

He quickly wrapped his arms around Michael's leg, hugging it tightly. “Hey don't do that little guy I'm going to need your strong arms for the Blanket fort!” Evan smiled nodding seriously before ripping all the bed sheets off of his bed and helping Michael With building the beginnings of their fort….

#crying child weekend bash #Evan Afton #Gears and rot au #I'm sorry I don't know how you put up with my goofiness...#tw child abuse #tw corpse #If I missed anything tell me

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angeygirl · 4 months

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Whumpuary 3 - "This is going to hurt"

Crying Child Weekend Bash - Blood/Fun

2 for 1 deal (TW for animal death/animal cruelty)

(Spoilers for Act 2 of the Crying Killer AU)

In his attempts to find something worthwhile to say about all three of this offspring, Father only said two things about Evan, 'he's awfully polite' and 'quiet people are good listeners.' Evan was proving the second point quite well. He could hear everything, the slush beneath his shoes, the wind rattling the barren tree branches, even the chattering of this own teeth But his ears were trained on another sound, the sound of rattling metal.

The cage had been left out overnight, and a day later, the trapped prey was still fighting to find a way out of the bars. Evan stepped closer and looked down. It was a rat, a pretty scrawny one. Hmm, well, it was better then nothing.

He knelt next to the cage. "There's no use in all that." Evan had gone so long without using his voice that words felt foreign on his tongue.

"This is going to hurt, but look at you. If I didn't do it, the cold would."

The rat snapped its teeth.

Was it the natural way he spoke, or did some part of him want to comfort the creature? Evan looked at the rat and saw an equal. His brother was a fox hunting a squirrel, but this? This would be fair. It was going to hurt, but...

What Evan did next was perfectly fair.

This was how big kids had fun, after all. This was perfectly normal. Never mind how the thing squealed, never mind how it bit in vain against Father's work gloves made for protection against fire and steel. Never mind all the blood in the snow.

Maybe it was fun not holding back. Maybe it was fun winning without a single scratch. Maybe it was fun to be in control, dominant. Maybe it was fun to make the thing hurt.

Evan moved the trap away from the bloody site and reset it. Then he trekked back home, still listening to the chattering of his teeth and the wind in the branches and the slush under this shoes. Father's gloves were so dirty with soot and grease that a new stain wouldn't be noticed, but Evan took a shower to get the blood off if himself.

It was odd, he supposed to be standing in a half full tub of icy, reddened water fully clothed, but it was a necessity. He had only gotten a bit on his jeans, but was it worth the risk? Who knew what diseases the thing might have had. Besides, this was a sort of cleansing ritual. When he was a child the sight of a scraped knee was enough to panic him, but now? He could do so much worse.

Did he enjoy it? Was it fun? He didn't know. It was only rats and squirrels for now.

Vermin, like him.

-------

Hope I did both prompts thoroughly enough. I'm actually really liking getting to write mini-oneshots to go with the drawings.

@whumpuary

@and-stir-the-stars

#crying child weekend bash #whumpuary2024 #whumpuaryno3 #tw animal death #animal death #tw animal cruelty #animal cruelty #blood #my art #drawing tag #Crying Killer AU

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madsworld15 · 2 months

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Part 2 of Heal Me, Hold Me, Make Me, Know Me

Part of my Asexual as Folk series

I won't be able to write much this weekend, so I am hoping this installment will tide people over until either Sunday evening or Monday morning.

Twenty minutes later, Brian stood up and walked back inside the hospital. He didn’t want to have to make any decisions about Justin’s care, but if Jennifer needed him to help her, he would. He couldn’t exactly say what had changed his mind, but it came down to the fact that he didn’t want anyone to have to be alone in all this. He and Jennifer included.

Weird. I’ve always pushed myself to be independent and not need love. Now, here I am, deciding that if she asks me again, I will make a decision with her about her son. Her son, who I care deeply about, against my better judgment.

When he stepped back inside, he found Debbie standing off to the side, talking to Daphne, who was crying, and Michael, who was not. Brian knew he should talk to Daphne, they had a mutual bond because of Justin, and she deserved to hear about it from him. But, he was still so numb and adrift after the meeting with the doctor. He wasn’t sure he could handle all of Daphne’s emotions on top of that.

So, instead, he turned toward the other end of the hall, where he was certain Jennifer would still be. Without a word to his family, Brian headed toward Justin’s. He hadn’t taken more than two steps when he felt a hand envelope his own. He looked down to see long, slender fingers. Without looking up, he knew that they belonged to Emmett. Bless that sweet man for always knowing the right thing to do in a crisis. Brian was closer to Michael, even when they were distant from each other, like now, but Michael was useless in situations where emotions ran high. No, Brian didn’t need Michael right now; he needed Emmett.

The two men arrive at the conference room once more and find Jennifer sitting where Brian had left her. She had her cell phone in her left hand and a crumpled tissue in her right. A pile of used tissues sat on the table in front of her. She was staring, unseeing, straight ahead. Emmett immediately sat down next to her while Brian hung back. He’d been touching and hugging people more in the last 5 hours than he had in the last 5 years. He was at his limit.

“It was his birthday.” Jennifer’s statement came out in a whisper, wettened by the tears still flowing down her face.

That one sentence broke Brian. His knees buckled, and he had to force himself into a chair of his own. How had he forgotten it was Justin’s birthday? What god and what universe allows a person to be attacked an inch of his life on his birthday?

“Fuck.” Brian let his breath out, and the tears started anew.

Emmett squeezed Jennifer against his side as he also reached for Brian’s hand.

“What can I do?” He asked, looking between the two people he was trying to keep steady.

Jennifer bit her lip and then finally turned her head toward them. “I called his father. He’s not coming. It seems he believes Justin brought this on himself.”

The anger within Brian bubbled to the surface, and he clenched his fists, forgetting that Emmett had one in his grip. He couldn’t believe a parent would be so heartless as to say he deserved to be bashed. And to say it to his obviously grieving ex-wife, the mother of said child? Unforgivable.

“I thought my dad was bad.” Brian spat out, the words feeling like fire on his tongue.

Jennifer gave a wet laugh, “Craig is, well, he’s something. I just regret that it took me until now to officially leave him. Justin deserved better.”

They all fell silent for some time. Brian could hear every tick of the clock on the wall. He wanted to know if Jennifer had made any decisions yet, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Emmett, who hated silences, even if they were comfortable, cleared his throat and spoke up.

“What matters most is that you are here now. He is lying there in the ICU, broken and bruised, in need of his mom, and you are here.” Jennifer nodded to indicate that she understood.

“I’m sorry.” Brian’s voice filled the empty space left behind when Emmett stopped talking.

“Brian –” Emmett started to reassure him that he had nothing to apologize for, but Brian shrugged him off.

“I should have followed him out of the club. I shouldn’t have been a colossal jackass to him in the days leading up to this. If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have felt the need to go to Babylon.” Brian rambled, his eyes fixed on his hands that were still in fists.

“Brian, YOU are NOT to blame.” Emmett’s words came out firm but loving. “You didn’t punch him and kick him. In fact, you have only ever respected him and cared about him.”

“As for Babylon, I was the one who urged him to go out for his birthday. He just wanted to have a quiet night in and watch movies. If we are going to play a blame game for why he was there, then I am the reason, not you.”

“Neither of you are to blame.” Jennifer butted in. “You both were there for him when I refused to be. We can’t sit here and blame ourselves for the actions of those three who attacked him. We all have to be strong and support him through the road ahead.”

She paused, got up from her seat, and moved closer to Brian. Then, surprising him, she leaned over and wrapped him in a hug.

“You heard the doctor. Justin has multiple surgeries and months of rehab to look forward to. He’s going to need people there to support him.”

Brian hesitated before he wrapped his arms around Justin’s mom as well. He breathed in her vanilla scent and allowed her warm embrace to comfort him. Here was a woman who had every right to hate him. He was much older than her son and was Justin’s chosen partner. Instead, she chose to love and appreciate his presence in her son’s life. This was all foreign territory for Brian. Most people immediately criticized his influence on the people he cared about, thinking he was too selfish. But, Mrs. Taylor was here accepting him as he was for the sake of her son. A small voice at the back of Brian’s brain told him not to get comfortable and that she would probably turn on him eventually. But for now, he was going to soak up this feeling. It helped to keep his fears at bay.

Jennifer pulled back, “We should probably go and update the others, Daphne and…that woman…”

“Debbie.” Emmett and Brian said at once. They shared a small smile.

“Yes, Debbie. We should update them.” Jennifer stood up and grabbed her purse. She deposited all the used tissues in the trash, wiped the tear tracks from her face, and put on a fake smile before she left the room.

Emmett followed her soon after, but Brian hung back briefly. He needed to compose himself. It was one thing to allow Emmett and Jennifer to see him break down. He couldn’t do that in front of Daphne. While it wasn’t the first time Debbie or Michael would’ve seen him crack under pressure, he wasn’t in the mood for their comfort right now.

He needed to be sure that when he went out there, his demeanor reflected the stoic person he always was. It would encourage the huggers of the group to leave him alone. Which, if Debbie could be counted on for anything, it was running her mouth. He was sure more people probably arrived by now to stand vigil for someone they didn’t really know but mattered to Brian, so they cared. Sure enough, upon reaching the part of the hallway where he’d left Debbie before, he found Lindsay and Ted had joined the group.

“Doesn’t anyone have anything better to do? It’s not like he knows you are here.” Brian rolled his eyes and pulled out his cigarettes. He knew he couldn’t smoke inside, but damn did he want to.

“Then why are you here?” Mikey whined from his spot next to Debbie.

Brian shook his head slightly in disbelief, pinched the bridge of his nose, and finally responded.

“Because he’s my bo— because we are seeing each other.” Brian caught himself before he said the dreaded word, but a look around revealed that Debbie, Lindsay, and Emmett were giving each other knowing smiles.

“I’m grateful that someone has been here with him since it happened.” Daphne stepped forward and moved to touch Brian’s arm, but he took a step back.

“Yeah, well, someone had to. He was pretty beat up.” Brian shrugged and tried to act nonchalantly.

“I was there too.” Michael started to chime in, but Brian stepped up to him and cut him off.

“You stood there and didn’t do shit!” His frustration at the whole situation poured out of him and landed on the one thing he could control — Michael.

“Fuck off, Brian! He wouldn’t have been out there if you’d paid him any attention!” Michael spat back, his words having no truth to them but still cutting deep.

“The two of you need to stop!” Debbie got between them, giving them both a stern mother look.

“Maybe if you’d done something, they wouldn’t have been able to kick his head and cause his brain to swell!” Brian threw at Michael despite Debbie’s admonishment.

“Brian!” Debbie turned all her attention to him. “I know you are hurting, and when that happens, you make those around you hurt, but placing the blame on Michael isn’t fair, and you know it.”

Brian was so angry at everything going on that he couldn’t even see straight. He knew Debbie was right, but it didn’t help that her son wanted to try and claim he was there for Justin when he wasn’t. He’s never once cared for the blonde ever.

“I’m going to get a coffee.” Brian stepped away from Daphne and the Novotnys.

“I think we should all go home and get some rest. We can come back in a few hours, in shifts, to visit him during visiting hours.” Debbie said, looking around at the family like she meant business. “That includes you, Brian. You need sleep, honey.”

The thought of going home terrified Brian. Even if Jennifer was there to keep an eye on him, Brian couldn’t imagine going across town to his loft right now. It was too far away.

“Debbie, is it?” Jennifer finally stepped forward, “I think Brian should stay here. Just in case something happens. I don’t want to be here alone.”

Brian would never be able to say it, but in that moment, he thought Jennifer was heaven on earth.

*****

As the sun rose, Brian sat in that sterile hallway. Jennifer was right next to him with her hand on his knee. After Debbie and everyone else had left, Brian had calmed down enough to allow Jennifer to give him the barest of touches in the hours since she hadn’t moved her hand, not once.

Brian leaned to the right, allowing his right arm to support his head. He knew he should probably sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw Justin lying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. It was something he would give up his loft and all the money in his bank account to never see again.

He heard a muffled noise next to him. It sounded like voices, but he couldn’t make out the words. Brian rubbed his eyes and straightened up. He looked over to Jennifer and found her looking at him expectantly.

“Huh?” Brian stifled a yawn.

“I asked what you do. What’s your job? I’m assuming you have one.”

Brian let out a chuckle. “Advertising Executive.”

For the first time since Justin had jumped off the stage at Babylon Brian smiled, genuinely smiled.

“Sorry. You reminded me of Justin just then. He would’ve smirked at me and said, ‘Assuming you have a job’.” Brian ducked his head and stared at his hands, which he had his right grasping his left with the thumb and forefinger applying pressure to his left palm.

“Don’t apologize,” Jennifer whispered. “I love knowing that others appreciate his sarcasm and wit like I do. He’s always been so much brighter than his peers. He got a 1500 on his SAT. Did you know that?”

Brian shook his head, then tilted his chin up so he could make sideways eye contact with the woman next to him.

“But I’m not surprised. He told me once his father wanted him to go to Dartmouth. I knew then he was smarter than I could ever hope to be.”

Jennifer reached across and separated his hands in order to clasp his left one between both of hers.

“I don’t know you very well, Brian, but I know you are kinder and smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

Brian scoffed. But stopped the minute Jennifer continued.

“You saved my son's life. I will always be grateful to you for that.”

Brian’s throat thickened, and tears threatened to fall once more. He was saved from responding by the appearance of Justin’s doctor.

“Mrs. Taylor, it’s still not visiting hours, but we decided as a group that Justin might benefit from human contact that isn’t his medical team.” The doctor took a deep breath. “Would you like to see your son?”

Then he paused briefly before adding, “You can come too, Mr.” And then he looked stressed that he didn’t know Brian’s name.

“Kinney. My name is Brian Kinney.” He stood up and walked with Jennifer down a completely different hallway.

“Be aware Justin is still unconscious and on the ventilator. But we were able to lower his settings and hope that by tomorrow he can be weaned off.”

Brian and Jennifer silently nodded their heads. He found himself grabbing onto Jennifer’s hand and holding on tight. His brain couldn’t make up its mind whether or not he wanted to be touched. Most of the time it all felt too much, but as they walked toward the door that Justin lay behind, Brian felt the need to have something grounding him or else he might float away.

How could it be that this young man has changed his whole center of being in just 6 months?

Brian held his breath as they arrived at Justin’s room. He could see him through the glass doors and adjoining columns of windows. For someone whose personality made him brighter than sunshine and bigger than life, Justin was now so pale and small.

The sounds of the ventilator worked in tandem with the steady beat of Justin’s heart monitor. If it weren’t for the bandage around his head and his hand propped on pillows with rods sticking up out of it, Brian could easily say he was sleeping. In fact, Justin looked so similar to all those early mornings that Brian woke up to find him in the bed next to him.

“He looks as though he could wake up any moment,” Jennifer spoke his thoughts out loud. Brian just nodded.

He removed his hand from Jennifer’s, and she immediately moved in, placing her loving hands against any visible part of his face she could find.

“Oh, Justin. I’m here. And Brian’s here. You aren’t alone.” At Jennifer’s words, Brian sat in the chair on the other side of the bed and squeezed Justin’s leg.

“I’m right here. I see your hurt, Justin Taylor.”

If Jennifer was curious about Brian’s words, she didn’t say. Brian was grateful for that. He sat there silently, watching Justin’s heart beat out the steady rhythm. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if he should pray to God. But then he remembered he didn’t believe in that sort of thing. All those years of being forced to sit in a church and pray for absolution from sins he never committed turned him away from any kind of all-powerful being.

As if she could sense his thoughts, Jennifer spoke. “Do you believe in God, Brian?”

Brian shook his head, not wanting to say too much, but then one more look at Justin, and he changed his mind.

“I was raised in the Catholic church. My mom forced me to go multiple times a week until I was 12. Then I got taller than her and simply refused to go. I already knew I was gay and couldn’t bear sitting through lecture after lecture about how I was going against God. How could God create me as I was supposed to be but then hate me?” Brian shrugged.

“So, I stopped going. Met my best friend, Michael and went to Sunday dinners at his house instead.”

“I was never an avid churchgoer, but I guess you could say I believe. In times like this, I feel like it’s all I have.”

Jennifer ran her hands along Justin’s blankets, tucking them or straightening them where she saw fit. After a few minutes of this she looked up at Brian, and gave him a sad smile.

“You wouldn’t understand, but when you become a parent, the person you once were stops existing, and in its place is someone who would do anything for that child in your arms. If I could trade places with him right now, I would.”

“I do know. I have a son.” Brian licked his lips and allowed his mind to turn to Gus for the briefest of moments.

“That’s right. Justin drew a picture of you and him for the art show.”

“Gus.” Brian forced a smile and looked up at Jennifer.

She smiled to herself, “You know, Justin had a stuffed bear when he was little that he named Gus.”

“No, I didn’t know that.” Brian smiled back at her.

“But, I’m not a father.” Brian had become too uncomfortable with his vulnerability, so he put his walls back up. “I simply gave a donation so that my friends could have a child.”

Jennifer’s hand landed on top of Brian’s, “I would hazard to guess Justin sees you better than anyone else. And since he drew you taking care of your son, I’d say you are a dad.”

#queer as folk #brian kinney #justin taylor #fanfiction #alternate universe #asexual spectrum representation

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