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#either it's dead silence that's so unnerving or just war-alarm levels of screams
etrevil · 8 months
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In Dazai's head rn: fuck, shit, balls, fucking- screw you, Dostoevsky. This was supposed to be a fun getaway from work, where I end up dancing over your dead body. Why tf did you have to bring Chuuya into this? Now I have to watch and hear him drown. Oh, no. I already am hearing him drown. Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts- I hate you, you crusty-ass rat-looking mf. Sigma was the best thing to have ever come from you. Die.
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himbowelsh · 7 years
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Prompt for Bill&Babe team: Frannie makes Babe and Bill sit and talk after a fight (because they're both miserable without each other and act like love sick dogs). They fought because one of them is feeling unloved. Either Babe because Bill is focused on Frannie or Bill because Babe started dating Gene. Frannie tells Gene that he better get used to this while they're watching Bill and Babe almost sob into each other arms because "I've missed you", "Don't leave me". Anything about their friendship
“This is ridiculous.”
“Shut up,” Fran retorts, leaning forward with her elbows braced against her knees. Red lips are pressed into a thin line; her eyes are trained on the bathroom door, intently enough to burn holes clean through the wood.
Julian sighs, lowering into a crouch as he, too, glowers at the door. Crossing his arms over his chest, Spina turns the key to the door over in his palm and tries to push a growing sense of unease to the back of his mind. The silence from within is eerie. There’s no reason it should be so quiet in there, considering the two guys locked within are anything but.
There’s always the fear that they might have killed each other. Well, if it came down to it, he figures Bill would be the one to kill Babe, unless Babe got the jump on him. Babe’s endurance, however, is a scary thing. Even if Bill got him good, Babe might be able to bounce back and deliver a fatal blow in return before --
Spina shakes himself, leaping from that train of thought. Theorizing about his friends killing each other isn’t nice, nor is it particularly healthy. There are better things to worry about right now; like what the hell is actually going on in that bathroom.
The banging stopped a few minutes ago; the arguing stopped soon after. Now it’s just... silent.
It’s unnerving the other two as much as it is him. He exchanges an anxious glance with Julian, whose throat bobs as he swallows. Fran doesn’t look at either of them. She’s stone-still, barely breathing, focused on making out whatever is going on behind the door.
Suddenly, a loud shout shatters the silence.
“No! Heffron, don’t you dare climb out that fucking window!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Fran buries her face in her hands. Julian topples from his crouch, cackling even before he hits the ground. A clatter rings out from the bathroom, followed by a renewed bout of shouting, and the sound of something hitting the wall.
“He’s gonna get stuck,” Spina (the only one who’s retained his wits) states. He aims a kick at Julian when the hysterical boy rolls into the wall.
Indeed, only a few seconds pass before a loud “Aww, hell,” sounds in Babe’s unmistakeable whine. The three friends exchange glances before sighing in unison. Fran slams a hand down on her knee. Julian sits up, still snickering. Spina tosses the key in the air and catches it.
“New plan?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. Julian nods while Fran just shrugs, discouraged. She’s not used to her schemes not working; when they do, she always gets dejected, then frustrated, then fired up all over again. Spina has no doubt that by dinnertime she’ll be drawing up new battle plans.
Of course, they’ll only get to have dinner once they manage to pry Babe from the bathroom window.
“We could shove ‘em in a closet together!” Fran exclaims, looking like she’s just struck gold. “No windows.”
“Yeah, just things to beat each other with,” Spina points out. “Pass.”
“We could lock ‘em out of the house tonight,” pipes up Julian. He doesn’t cringe back even as two heads swivel around to gape at him, but he does look a little surprised by the reaction.
“It’s winter,” Fran enunciates, looking torn between horror and incredulity. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
Spina waves her off before Julian can start up an inevitable argument. The last thing they need is two more people fighting in this house. That could send them spiralling into full-on civil war, and Spina isn’t sure he can take it. “His brain just works like that. Don’t ask him for ideas and we’ll all be fine.”
He’s become a master at subverting catastrophic arguments before they get the chance to happen. Living with Bill and Fran, who scream at each other as much as they scream for each other, and Babe and Julian, who frankly have all the self control of poppies, he’s learned to be the calm in the storm. He’s the level head. The mediator. The one everyone else goes to when they have problems.
He hates it. If that’s what it take to keep peace in the household, however, Spina is willing to do it. If only to prevent a homicide, which would seriously interrupt his schedule, and that’s something anyone studying medicine really can’t afford.
It would just be so much easier if he weren’t living with four of the most stubborn people on planet earth.
He doesn’t know what the hell is going on between Bill and Babe, but whatever it is has been building up all month long. The two best friends have been distant, shorter with each other, argumentative for no apparent reason. The other day, they finally snapped. Babe swung first, Bill swung last, and Fran broke up the fight with threats of kicking them both out on the street if they ever have it out in the living room again.
Since then, they haven’t been speaking at all. While Bill and Babe on the same page can be holy terrors, witnessing the two of them reading entirely different books is something Spina could have gone his whole life without. It’s not natural. It’s a little terrifying, to be honest. The wall of ice that’s come up between the two of them is ready to shatter at the slightest touch, and the second it does the house will descend into chaos.
They have to get Bill and Babe back together before that can happen.
Since locking them in the same room together didn’t work, there’s only one thing left for them to do. They have to make them talk it out.
He clears his throat, drawing both sets of eyes in the room to him. “How about this? An intervention. We sit both of ‘em down, watch so they don’t kill each other, and get ‘em to talk. Whether they want to or not.”
“It’s no use,” Fran sighs. “We can’t try anything like that, cause they’ll just get pissed off and start fighting and try to kill each other again. Sitting ‘em down will just be a disaster.”
Now it’s Julian’s turn to clear his throat. Alarm bells start ringing in Spina’s head the second he sees the renewed brightness in his friend’s face. Anything that excites Julian is rarely good for anyone else.
“I have an idea,” he says, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “I know just what will work.”
It is surprisingly difficult to tie someone to a chair.
Or maybe it’s just difficult to tie Bill to a chair. Granted, things probably would have gone over better if Spina had waited to ambush him when he was caught off guard -- like during a nap, or while he’s busy eating. Calling Bill’s name from the kitchen and hiding behind a door until he walked in and then jumping him might not have been the best plan.
But, well -- it’s not like he can undo it now.
He finally gets the last knot tied, and steps back to survey his work. Bill is strapped securely to a kitchen chair. A mass of rope constrains his chest, while his arms and legs are fastened to the chair’s wooden limbs. The knots Spina has tied have employed all the knowledge he still retains from his one summer at Boy Scout Camp, but they’re large and secure. This doesn’t stop Bill from bucking like an enraged bull, of course.
His face is bright red, a vein throbbing in his temple. He’s spitting curses that would make Spina’s mother slap his teeth out; his muscles strain from his struggle to escape, but it’s to little effect. The rope holds. It’s clear that Bill isn’t going anywhere. (Spina sends up a prayer of thanks; he’s not ready to die today.)
“What the fuck? Let me out, you little son of a bitch, or I swear to god I’ll strangle you in your sleep --”
“Give it a rest, Bill,” Spina sighs. “You’re gonna be here for a while.”
The chair next to Bill is still empty. Spina doubts it will be for long.
He steps around Bill and begins to make himself a sandwich. He considers bologna, but goes for cheese instead; then mustard, then sausage leftover from dinner, then a bit of lettuce. He sits down in front of Bill and begins to eat it, staring him dead in the eye.
His friend, self-proclaimed “master chef”, looks nauseated by Spina’s concoction. “I fuckin’ hate you.”
“Yep.” Spina pops the ‘p’, and takes another large bite.
He leaves Bill for just a minute to use the bathroom, and when he comes back Fran has a squirming Babe confined to the other chair.
Babe is cursing a blue streak. Next to him, Bill looks fit to kill everyone in the room. Fran steps back, placing her hands on her hips, and nods to herself. A part of Spina really wants to know how she did it, but he realizes it’s better if he doesn’t know.
Bill looks to his girlfriend, desperate for an ally. Fran only shakes her head, lips quirking up in a victorious smirk.
“You,” she says as Spina comes up behind her, “are going to sit your asses down and get along.”
“Get this guy away from me, Frannie,” Bill says in a low voice. “I mean it. I dunno what I’ll do.”
“You’re not doing anything, genius. You’re tied to a chair.”
Fran’s eyes swivel between the two combatants for a moment. Bill and Babe glance at each other; their gazes lock, and quickly morph into heated glares. Spina feels the flicker of hope inside of him sputter.
If this doesn’t work, he has no clue what else they can try. He might have to move out. He can’t stand living on a powder keg, and when these two explode it isn’t going to be pretty.
This needs to get sorted out today, and this is the safest way to do it.
“Talk,” Fran orders, taking a step backwards. “The both of you work this out, and that’s when we’ll untie you. Until then --”
She makes a broad gesture to their current predicament, then steps out into the hallway. When Spina catches her eye, she nods at him to move it.
He scampers out of the room, leaving Bill and Babe alone to settle whatever the hell is going on. He just hopes the house will be left standing once they’re finished.
After ten minutes, it becomes obvious that no one is coming back. Babe and Bill have been left alone.
“So,” Babe begins, tentative.
“Don’t even try it, Heffron.”
Babe’s mouth shuts with a click. He huffs out a sigh, and goes back to counting the flowers in the wallpaper.
No one is expecting visitors, so when Gene Roe walks into the house to find Fran and Spina crouched outside the kitchen door, Spina’s first thought is that somehow Babe must have managed to call for help.
“No way,” Fran hisses, springing to her feet. “I have both their phones in my pocket! What are you doing here?”
Gene, for his part, looks unimpressed. His eyes flicker from Spina (still on the ground) to the enraged Fran, then scan the house as if looking for someone. When he doesn’t seem to find what he’s searching for, he settles back on his heels with a frown. 
“Well,” he says, “I’m looking for my boyfriend. I’ve been waiting for him in the car for fifteen minutes, and now I’m pretty sure we’ve missed the movie we were gonna go see.”
Spina and Fran both deflate at the same time, exchanging guilty glances. They hadn’t counted on Babe having plans tonight. They assumed he came home alone.
Gene raises his eyebrow at the duo. “Somebody wanna tell me what’s going on here?”
“Look, if you would just talk to me and tell you why you’ve been so pissed then maybe we could figure this out!”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Babe!” Bill spits back. Anger colors his voice, words stinging like a hornet’s needle. Babe grits his teeth, muscles tensing against the rope that binds him as he turns as far as he can to face his friend.
“Clearly there is! Get over yourself, huh? You think you get to act like an asshole and not even have a reason?”
“I’ve got a reason! A damn good one!”
“Oh yeah?” challenges Babe. “What is it?”
Fran’s hiss of “they’re talking!” drew everyone to the door. Now Gene has joined Spina and Fran in the ranks of shameless eavesdroppers, and looks as baffled by the conversation as the rest of them.
No matter where this is going, Spina couldn’t be more relieved. Finally, they’re getting over themselves and just talking it out. It took forever, but if they manage to straighten things out then everything might be okay.
“This is great,” Gene murmurs, “but when am I gonna get my boyfriend back?”
The answer doesn’t need to be stated. The sharp look Fran shoots him makes it obvious. They’re only leaving those chairs once they’re ready to kiss and make up, so even if it takes all night, they’re staying where they are.
“Sorry, buddy.” Spina claps his fellow medical student on the back. “Guess you’ll have to miss your movie.”
“You sunuva bitch! You didn’t think it affected me at all?”
“There’s no reason it should affect you!” Babe fires back. Now all of his anger bleeds from his words, exposing the hurt he’s been trying so hard to cover up. “Just because you’re jealous of me and Gene --”
“I ain’t jealous!” Bill exclaims indignantly, but Babe raises his voice over him.
“Yes you are, and just because you’re jealous you think you can kick me around? No! I’m not your mother, I don’t have to look after you! I’m allowed to have my own life! You think it hasn’t bothered me when you’re mackin’ on Frannie while I want to talk to you about something! Sure it has, but I don’t take it out on you, because I’m not an asshole!”
“I didn’t --” Bill starts, but cuts himself off. Babe steamrolls on as if he hasn’t heard a word.
“So, you’re jealous. Okay. Ever tried talking to me? It’s not like I’m trying to ignore you! Jesus Christ, Bill, you’re my best friend! You’re the best pal I could ask for, but if you feel that way, say something to me! We can work it out! I don’t get jealous of you and Frannie because I know you love her, and I know she’s your girl. You love her, but that doesn’t make me not your friend anymore! Gene’s the guy I love, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you anymore! Christ, it’s not that hard, is it?”
For a moment, Bill says nothing. When he does speak, his voice sounds tight. “I never said it was hard.”
Spina is treated to a sharp elbow in the ribs from one side, and fingers digging into his shoulder from the other. He winces under both assaults, but neither one lets up.
“Is this it? Have they done it?”
“There’s been enough yelling. Ain’t they ever heard of indoor voices?”
“What do you think?”
Spina forces himself to his feet, popping out from under both Fran and Gene. He’s in no hurry to be buried by nosy friends, especially not before they find out if a resolution has really been reached. He strains to see around the doorway without being noticed -- a challenge when there are two bodies at his feet, threatening to tip him over any second.
“Hey,” a voice from the kitchen calls. “Quit stickin’ your head in and come untie us already! We’re done!”
At Spina’s feet, Gene has gone very still. “Is Babe -- it sounds like he’s crying.”
Fran takes a moment to consider this, before suddenly springing to her feet. “Oh, thank god!”
The entire assembly barrels into the kitchen, only to be greeted by the most welcome sight they’ve seen all day. Babe and Bill are still sitting in their chairs, side-by-side. Now, however, neither one is struggling, and no one looks murderous. In fact, Babe is smiling ear-to-ear. His eyes are glistening. There’s a few wet streaks rolling down Bill’s cheeks, but he does his best to maintain a tough front as he regards them.
Fran exhales a laugh. “Oh my god, you two are such babies.”
“You worked it out!” Spina cheers, fistpumping in the air. He starts to round Bill’s chair; Gene is already behind Babe, working to free him from his restraints. 
As soon as the ropes fall away, Bill and Babe are out of their chairs. They take a second to stretch their limbs and make sure everything is still in working order; then they embrace each other.
“You rat bastard,” Babe huffs against Bill’s broad chest. “You got something to say to me, say it next time, huh?”
Bill claps Babe on the back, hugging him like a kid who’s just rediscovered his favorite toy. “And don’t you go forgetting about Ol’ Guarnere anymore!”
It’s a heartwarming, if somewhat baffling scene. Maybe he just doesn’t get it. Spina’s never had lifelong friends. He’s definitely never been a part of the same bond that Babe and Bill have with each other. He probably just doesn’t understand the way their brains work, or why this was such a thing, but he’s glad it all worked out anyway. “You know,” Fran pipes up, “double dates are always an option!”
The two don’t reply. Maybe they didn’t even hear her. Gene glances over at her and shakes his head. “Let ‘em figure it out for themselves. They’ll wanna think it was their idea.”
Fran sighs, placing her hands on her hips as she surveys her two favorite idiots. “Gene, I hope you’re prepared,” she says. “You’re part of the family now. You better get used to all of this.”
Gene huffs out a low laugh, crossing his arms. As he watches his boyfriend and his best friend hug it out, there’s a smile on his lips. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
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