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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years

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The Best Things ~ J.V. (Part 1)

A/n: I'm so sorry but I DESPERATELY needed to get this off my chest before I exploded because I have absolutely NO self control.

I made a playlist

Word Count: 5000+

MASTERLIST

Come in sets of two...

Y/n was an oddball.

At least that's what his parents said- a lot.

"You're such an oddball."

It seemed that they meant it endearingly, but the words stuck with Y/n much more than they probably should have. And maybe that was less because of his parents or even his brother and more because of the media and the other kids that treated him very differently than they usually treated other people.

It probably didn't help that he was a Wayne.

Bruce Wayne was an absolute golden boy. He was responsible, driven, intelligent. He was a staple for Boys Going Somewhere. A face to an idea that everyone absolutely adored. It was known very well that Bruce was going to be the successor to Wayne Enterprises- even though Y/n was two years older. Bruce was good to the core, with a wide smile but a certain professionalism that most adults didn't ever master.He was level headed and figured things out very easily. His parents were incredibly proud of him and held him very dearly, and it showed.

Y/n wasn't anything like him. He preferred staying up late and watching the stars or the sun set and then rise again, compared to understanding anything about business. He was somewhat of an artist. He had notebooks full of drawings and his room was covered with thumbtacked paintings he'd put on his wall with pride, even though most of them were what he was known for: people, animals, or objects that he'd fixated on long enough to paint them... except that they were often multiple things in one painting, and they were all mashed together in a rather alarming sight. He walked around with paint in his hair and on his clothes, his eyes bright and shining and his energy completely uncontained. He had no sense of self control or when to be quiet or calm. Most often he wasn't even found at home, as he went to school and then hung out with friends he'd made on the streets.

It was instantly incredibly obvious the drastic difference between the two boys, and people had been bidding on which one would succeed and which one would flop the very first second Bruce had been born. Every bet was on Bruce making it.

Despite everything, Y/n and Bruce got along very well. Y/n was rather emotional and got upset very quickly when he was ignored, which worked quite nicely with Bruce's curiosity. Y/n could go on for hours about the same thing and Bruce would listen. Bruce could ask questions about one painting for just as long and Y/n would eagerly answer each one, going into as much detail as possible. Y/n pulled Bruce out of his comfort zone and gave him a little fun outside of the expectations that were constantly pressing down on him. Likewise, Bruce took up the mantle and allowed Y/n the complete freedom to be himself and be appreciated for it.

Even the boys' parents had a pretty steady relationship with Y/n. They found him to be a little much, but with Bruce leaving them reassured that their company would be in a pair of capable hands, they were perfectly fine with letting Y/n go absolutely wild. As log as he was safe and everything he did was legal. They might live in Gotham, but the Waynes were good people and that wasn't changing anytime soon.

Overall, they were a very happy family.

Everything changed the night Thomas and Martha Wayne were shot dead on a way home from a movie they'd taken Bruce to.

It had been a night out like any other. Y/n stayed home as usual- it was the only time he could turn his music all the way up and completely lose himself in whatever he wanted to. The others didn't mind. It let Y/n blow off steam and made him much calmer for a while; in addition, they had a night out together and got to bond with Bruce. Sometimes they'd take just Y/n, and sometimes Y/n and Bruce would go out together without their parents, but most of the time it was Thomas and Martha and Bruce, and each Wayne was okay with that.

Y/n was staring at a half painted canvas, eyes wide and fingers trailing the path of his lips. He was loving the loudness and the thumping of the beat under his feet. Like it was in his blood. He smiled, raising the paintbrush.

The door busted open. "Y/N!"

Y/n spun around, startled. In the sharp movement, he knocked over a tiny bowl full of paint. Alfred reached over, turning the music off. "Your parents were shot and killed. Bruce is home early." Red paint dripped down the easel and over Y/n's shoes as the words tried to sink in but failed.It was like looking at something see through or invisible. Like feeling the breeze and wishing to catch it, but never able to close your fingers around empty air. Y/n just couldn't comprehend what Alfred was saying. Sensing his shock, Alfred moved closer. His voice was softer when he repeated, "Y/n. Bruce needs you. He won't admit it, but I can't help him lone.He won;t even admit he needs help. He might open up to you."

"No," Y/n choked out. Martha Wayne was far too kind and gentle. She was warmth and safety incarnate. Something so good and bright wasn't allowed to fade. Like yellow paint,or the sun. She always came back in the morning Always. And Thomas Wayne was... unbreakable. Unshakable. Impossible to even faze, let alone kill. He was unbeatable. Nothing could kill him. He'd live forever. Or, at the very least, go out at his own time when he was completely sure he was ready to. "No."

"Yes," Alfred insisted, shaking Y/n's shoulders violently. Y/n flinched. "Please-"

Without another word, Y/n pushed away from Alfred and sped to Bruce's room. He didn't even knock. Bruce was sitting on his bed, his eyes haunted and his lips resting in a soft frown. His hands were in his lap as he perched on the edge of the bed like he was planning to run any second, but he also seemed cemented in place as if he couldn't go anywhere even if he wanted to. He was scary still, and as his eyes slowly moved from the floor to meet Y/n's gaze, the older Wayne shivered at the darkness in his gaze. "Bruce?"

Bruce nodded stiffly in forced greeting. "Y/n."

Y/n bit his lip. Bruce's gaze fell to Y/n's feet and widened, his hands tightening on his knees. Y/n looked down to see the red paint still on his shoe, beginning to dry, and immediately felt sick. "So-" he cut off, his throat burning like he'd swallowed acid."So they're really-"

"Yeah," Bruce interrupted.

"You were there."

"Yeah."

Silence fell like a piano from a fifth story building. Even when the silence left, the feeling didn't. Both boys were suddenly being crushed under the weight of a ginormous object neither of them could see let alone explain or find the strength to remove. It stayed through the funeral, and onward. It manifested differently for each boy.

Bruce began to dig into his parents' murder, sifting through file after file, night after night. He got little sleep and ate even less often. At least he wasn't hurting himself anymore. That he had done a lot right before Alfred, Y/n, and Jim Gordon had all teamed up to knock him out of it.

Y/n was thrown into the world of business. He was torn away from everything he cared about. His freedom and dreams were stolen ad he was forced to clean up and get into a suit and start taking care of the family company- at least until Bruce was ready. In a few months he lost not only the things he enjoyed and his parents, but also his friends and the easy going way of life. He was beaten down and forced to be calm and collected. He was taught how to not deal with emotions like real men do and handle business that needed to get taken care of. He wasn't a person anymore. He was a tool.

It was unbearable for Bruce. He was losing all of his family in one go and as he tried to fight to make sense of it or keep anything of his old life, people kept trying to knock him down a peg and remind him that he was a child. Even though Y/n, barely 14, was apparently old enough to have the world on his shoulders when he was completely and totally not able to handle it in any way. It was supposed to be Bruce's job.

Finally he managed to prove his capabilities, but not in time to save Y/n. He had been rung out by the press and pushed to the brink and then over by the people at Wayne Enterprises. When he got his free time back, he didn't spend it watching the stars or the sun rise and fall. He didn't spend it painting dogs and lamps. He didn't spend it doodling and ranting to Bruce about all the things he found wonderful about the world. He spent each and every second he had locked in his room, painting.

The colors of each work began to get darker, the themes more twisted. They got better as he fixated on one thing only... unfortunately, that thing was death.

Y/n was spiraling. He didn't take care of himself and sometimes didn't come out of his room for days. Bruce tried to get through to him, but it seemed that something really bad had happened while everyone had expected him to be in charge. The thing was, there were no hints about it and of course no one at the company would fess up about anything. Y/n wouldn't talk about it. Anytime anyone even mentioned Wayne Enterprises, he would pull away and become unresponsive.

Then the Maniax began wreaking havoc.

Y/n's focus suddenly changed. He wasn't fascinated per say by the horrible things going wrong, but more the people that were committing the heinous acts. One day Bruce finally got him to talk about it, and all Y/n had to say was, "I mean, who does that? Who goes around just killing people like it doesn't mean anything? For no reason? Look at the redhead- he shoots one of his own guys for no reason- Look, right there. What kind of mental state would someone have to be in to be so flippant about taking a life?"

The obsession with the Maniax was soon followed by an obsession of killers in general. He was found constantly reading history books about some of the world's worst killers. Then, about Gotham's worst killers specifically.

That was why Bruce went to him when he began to get involved with that same redhead that had set Y/n down this path in the very beginning. "What do you think drives him? I mean, why do what he does?" Bruce asked his brother one day. It had been quite a while since they'd sat down and talked like this. When Bruce would ask questions about something Y/n fixated on and Y/n answered with pure eagerness. This had been the first time the information had been useful or had a realistic application, and it was upsetting.

"Probably some mental disorders. Perhaps some childhood trauma. He's probably immensely desensitized..." He paused. "Jerome Velaska is actually quite odd. He's probably just psychotic, with some serious abandonment issues and a sort of god complex. He wants to be seen and known and craves endless adoration and attention. He'll do anything to get what he wants, and doesn't have the patience or tolerance for anything else. That's why he acts out- it's like he has the mind of a child. He didn't get his way and now he's going to pitch a fit and chuck his toys. His toys being people and the fit being murder."

Bruce swallowed. "That's demented."

"Hm?" Y/n hummed. He blinked then forced himself to nod. He had zoned out and not blinked to bring himself back to the present. "Yeah. He's totally messed up."

Bruce tried not to ask Y/n about Jerome again after that. There had been a strange light in his eyes. A dangerous interest that made Bruce... nervous.

Everything came to a climatic bang when Alfred took the two brothers out to a charity banquet held in honor of a children's hospital. He'd only managed to get Y/n out because he'd been more energetic recently. More in a good mood. A little more like himself. In favor of seeing Y/n be so much like he used to, neither Alfred nor Bruce questioned it.

Boy did they wish they had though.

The night was seeming to pan out rather dull until the Magician came out. Y/n loved Magicians. He always had. He found their skill to pull off even the most obvious tricks was rather impressive. So when the Magician on stage asked for a volunteer and Bruce was chosen, Y/n was a little disheartened.

Bruce, however, seemed that he would rather do anything else. He had been nagging to leave anyway. Y/n stepped forward. "I can go up for you if you want," he offered.

The woman smiled and on stage, the Magician announced, "Ah yes! Just as well, just as well. Please, join us." The woman held out her hand for Y/n and he took it immediately.

Gotham hadn't seen Y/n in a very long time. People tittered and clapped and Y/n felt nervous. He hadn't been in front of a crowd since-

No, he wouldn't think about that. Tonight it was just some good fun and he'd be okay with that. Wasn't he allowed to have fun every once in a while?

The Magician greeted Y/n then opened a box, motioning for him to get in. He did, with a bounce in his step and excitement in his eyes. The box lid closed over top Y/n and the slats were put in place. It was the classic "sawed in half" trick. Y/n was immediately put off though. It would ruin the magic if an audience member did the trick. The assistant always did this trick, because it required a lot of trick of the eye to work. This way, he'd just get cut in-

Y/n's eyes went wide. The Magician above him smiled deviously.

"Does this handsome gentleman have a name?" Suddenly Y/n's body went cold. He knew that voice. Had heard it again and again and again on tv. He had seen that exact smile accompanying it. He was torn between the horror of the very real possibility of death at any second, and awe at finally meeting the man he'd been unable to get out of his head for the last significant amount of time. Since the whole bus full of high schoolers had almost been set on fire and that soon-to-be familiar face was all over the screen during the news broadcast about it. That face that had been and would be on every news broadcast for quite sometime. The Magician hummed, raising his eyebrows, and Y/n swallowed.

"Y/n," he said. There was no point now. He was trapped and at this man's mercy. What could he do? Cry for help? The most anyone would do is laugh it off, even if he could manage to get the lump out of his throat and get any coherent message across. Plus, something far more demanding kept him silent.

An extremely dangerous sense of curiosity.

If he was going to die tonight anyway, he might as well take his last moments to see what Jerome Valeska was like up close.

"Y/n," the not-magician repeated, musing over the name. "Well, Y/n, this won't hurt a bit." He clanged the two large saws together and Y/n felt breathless. What was he doing?! This was absolute madness! "Is there a doctor in the house?" The crowd laughed. The crowd LAUGHED. Of course they laughed. They always laughed. No one cared about Y/n Wayne.

Suddenly Alfred's voice sounded out, rather panicked. Y/n looked over, surprised. Of all people, Y/n didn't think it would have been Alfred who would have intervened. Alfred had been much too wrapped up in taking care of Bruce. Such as everyone was. Despite that, it was him to stumbled out, "Just- wait- excuse--" He held up a hand, everything going quiet and still as he tripped forward. "Just wait, wait, wait one second."

Jerome didn't wait.

The saw came down.

To his own shock, Y/n was fine.

The assistant rolled away his lower half and then returned it just in time for Jerome to lean close and whisper, "Give em a wave." Y/n looked directly into his eyes and his smile wavered. They were a pretty color. Brown, littered with slight blues and green that came alive under the stage lighting.

"I know who you are." The words wouldn't have been heard by anyone else other than Jerome- even if it wasn't for the clapping. Jerome froze, but Y/n didn't wait. He stood, waved to the audience to show he was alright, and then allowed the assistant to take him back to his place next to Bruce and Alfred.

When Jerome spoke gain, his words seemed to be a little different. Y/n placed the emotion when he turned back around again and saw Jerome's eyes glued intently to Y/n. He wasn't blinking. "Some say Y/n here has a split personality." The audience laughed at the pun and then his voice lightened again as he moved onto his next trick. As he called up the mayor an the set up began, the assistant's mask fell off.

Y/n gasped. He knew that face too. Unmistakable. Barbara Keene. Of course. How did Y/n not see that far sooner?

"I should warn you," Jerome teased lightly. "No one is getting out of here tonight alive." The audience laughed and Y/n thought he would feel terror at the words. What was stopping him now? He could whisper to Bruce or Alfred. To that nice lady from before-

It was then that Y/n realized Lee Thompkins was gone.

Jerome flung a knife straight into the Mayor's gut and Bruce stepped forward, gasping in time with the crowd. Y/n was torn. Why was he torn?! This was simple! Stop this! Right? Surely he could do something.

And yet... he found he didn't want to. God what the hell was wrong with him?

The Mayor fell and people began panicking. The gun shot started and Y/n moved without thinking, slipping behind a curtain and out of sight. He began to move through the curtains until he was far enough fromAlfred not to be stopped, then he was ducking to make sure he didn't get shot- and he waited.

He saw Jerome and Barbara tie up Lee and then make a call. He spoke loudly- it wasn't hard to make out at least one side of the conversation. His demands didn't make sense. They didn't line up at all with his character. Why...?

His maniacal laughter suddenly cut off as he turned to face his newly terrified audience. The moment was interrupted, though, by a new voice. "Enough!" Y/n stepped out from hiding to get a better view, only to see a man he didn't know. That was a new experience on this night where Y/n seemed to be able to put a name to ever face in this room that mattered. "It's time for you to pack up your little sideshow and leave," the man continued. Jerome was still grinning. That didn't make sense either. Why didn't he seemed bummed that his fun was getting interrupted, or a little tentative around the new player he hadn't planned his game around? How had this guy even gotten in, with all the guards outside? It felt off. Y/n could sense it immediately. Even the man spoke like he was... reading lines.

And Jerome responded in the exact same way. Like he was in a show. Like he was acting.

The movements of the two men and the way they formed words seemed so out of place. Even the shot of the gun Barbara used... none of it seemed natural.

Without thinking, Y/n stepped forward. The small noise his steps made immediately caught Jerome's attention. His eyes light up, his smile relaxing to a much more natural place. This was Jerome. The change was impossible to miss for Y/n, who had been carefully studying him so long.

"You," Jerome called, pointing directly at Y/n for the first time tonight. This felt even more thrilling than when Bruce had been picked. Now there was no charade or manipulation. It was just Jerome and Y/n. "Come here." He held up a gun, obviously ready to threaten someone's life to get Y/n to obey, but he was already moving before the words could leave Jerome's mouth. "What a nice boy." Y/n should have been at least pretending to be phased, but he was far too caught up in analyzing Jerome that he didn't think about how his step was confident and unfaltering, taking him to Jerome without any hesitation. He didn't think about the expression on his face, but how it made Jerome specifically respond. By simply having an emotion other than fear, Y/n had caught Jerome's attention and was reveling in it. Jerome could see that too, and it seemed to entertain him even more.

"You just gonna stare at me all day?" Y/n whispered softly, trying not to let his lips twitch into a smirk. Was he... flirting? It felt like he was suddenly outside of his body, watching this train wreck happen, unsure of who was in control or why he was doing anything he was.

Jerome seemed to be absolutely loving it. "Stand here with me." His voice was soft as silk, near purring. Y/n moved to where he motioned and stayed silent. The problem with his new placement: everyone could see his reactions now, not just Jerome. It was time to start acting at the very least.

Turns out he didn't much need to.

Jerome was easily terrifying as he was charismatic.

Every time Y/n thought he had caught on to Jerome schtick, he did something that threw Y/n off completely again. It was all fun and games, playing at murder but then pulling out some joke shot that didn't really make any sense. Did he actually want to keep all of us hostage? Wasn't it enough to have a few? Bruce, me and Alfred because Bruce was Gotham's golden boy, and he wouldn't let anything happen to me or Alfred. Lee Thompkins because she was his bargaining chip. The four of us would be plenty enough of a bargaining chip, maybe a handful more just in case. Why spare everyone, if he really did like killing so much?

There was something to Jerome that really intrigued Y/n. He wondered what the maniac was really thinking. What really drove him to act this way. To take control of a whole room full of Gotham's richest of the most well meaning... only to ask for ridiculous, nonsensical demands and not kill a single one of us.

Again Y/n got that sense, like something else major was actually happening here.

Y/n was zoning out. Missing things. He couldn't focus on the act going. The show that had more layers than what was originally apparent. He missed the whole throw down with Barbara and Lee as well, but caught the gist: Barbara was apparently in love with JimGordon and fancied that they'd end up together. Lee was apparently getting in the way of that. Blah, blah, blah. Girl drama and psychopaths and romance and delusion. Barbara almost killed Lee. Jerome stopped her. So on and so forth.

Then, Jerome attention was on Y/n again all of a sudden, even though he'd been carefully ignoring the boy he'd called up on stage until that point. He grinned at Y/n, the knife he'd taken fromBarbara manifesting in Jerome's hand. The redhead used it more like a finger than a weapon. He ran the dull side of the back of the blade under Y/n's chin, the flipped it so the blade was pressed gently to Y/n's skin. "My favorite volunteer," he said slowly, stepping far too close for what should have been comfortable. "You know, I've seen you on TV."

"And I, you." He hadn't meant to respond, but it had slipped out before he could stop it.

Jerome's head tilted as he popped his chin in pride. "Well, of course. I was meant to be on the big screen. I made my own way. It was my choice to end up where everyone could see me." He took a deep breath in. "You, however... what a scandal." Suddenly Y/n couldn't breath. Jerome roared in giddy, insane laughter. "There he is!" He turned to the audience, motioning to the slight shake of Y/n's body and the sickly pale tint to his skin. "There's that fear! That fear or hate or disgust or whatever it is you all feel for me... except for you." He looked back at Y/n. "We're so similar, Y/n," he sighed. "I'm an orphan too, you know. I don't fear death either."

"You killed your parents," Y/n managed to get out through gritted teeth.

Jerome tilted his head back and forth. "Details, details." The knife was at Y/n's throat again. "You're no fun anymore, you know. Everyone stops being fun at some point. I will give you one thing: you lasted longer than most." The knife pressed further into Y/n's throat and he sucked in a sharp breath as it broke skin, a single drop of blood making a vibrant path down his pale skin.

Gun shots. Suddenly Jerome spun, pressing Y/n's back to his chest, moving the blade so Y/n's was a hostage instead of the focused on target. There was a bit of chaos in the crowd, and Y/n's eyes widened to see Alfred and Jim Gordon of all people mowing through Jerome's lackies. Jim turned his barrel toward Y/n and Jerome. "Let him go!" He shouted. Jerome's giggle rang right next to Y/n's ear. Whatever weird spell from before that had Y/n controlled and calm and still broke and he flinched back away from the blade. Unfortunately, that only brought him closer to Jerome. After a second Jim defeatedly announced, "I don't have a clean shot. Jerome shifted, obviously eager in his moment of victory.

"Stay calm, Y/n," Alfred eased. Bruce was shuffling, knowing it wouldn't help to rush in but having to use every bit of his self control to stop himself from doing just that. He couldn't lose Y/n too. His brother was part of the quickly dwindling family he still had left.

Jerome's breath sounded in Y/n's ear as he gritted his teeth, switching from plying a game to planning an escape. Of course he wanted to get out of here alive. "It seems like we've got ourselves in a bit of a pickle. "What do you say Sweetheart?" Jerome mumbled in his ear. He was twitching, rocking a little from foot to foot. "Why don't we boost our ratings, hm?" The knife moved from one side of Y/n's throat to the other, drawing the smallest line of blood. Y/n gasped, his body shaking in suddenly very real fear. He wondered if this is how his parents had felt, or if they'd died too fast to really be afraid of dying at all. "Smile." Jerome began his wild, broken chittering of a laugh again.

This was familiar. Jerome had been waiting all night to kill someone, and for whatever reason he hadn't. Unfortunately, that meant he was definitely not going to hesitate to now. Y/n closed his eyes, and echoing, "NO!" Coming from his younger brother before he was sure he was about to be enveloped by darkness.

"I said, enough." Jerome let go of Y/n in surprise and both boys turned, unsure where to move from here. Not knowing how to switch gears. There stood the man from earlier. Theo Galavant. Theo grabbed Jerome by the color and drove a knife into the side of his neck. Y/n made a weird, half-choking, half-squeaking sound as the blade made impact into flesh, the audience gasping behind him.

Y/n couldn't move. He fell backwards, tripping over his own feet and barely catching himself as he made his way off the stage and to the ground. Theo must have thought he was further, but he heard it. He heard what the man said next. "I know, I know, I know," he cooed as Jerome choked, dying. Y/n blinked, trying to clear his head. So many thoughts were swimming through it and his chest had begun to tighten and twist. He couldn't breathe. He could still hear though. "This isn't what we rehearsed. I'm so sorry Jerome. You have real talent! But no, you see, the plot thickens. Enter: the hero."

Something horrible settled into Y/n's stomach as Jerome spoke again, his voice weak and raspy. "You... said... I was... gonna be..." He died before the sentence could finish, and Y/n was running. Ramming into Bruce, the boys holding each other tightly as Alfred enveloped them both with his arms.

"It's over," Alfred reassured. "You're safe now, Y/n, it's okay."

The words sounded sincere and full of relief, but Y/n couldn't shake that things were far from over. In fact, he was sure they'd only just begun.

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askjoshuafreeman · 3 years

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transcript.file//jfreeman_codingb//convo

[Emergency Program Active]

AdminJF: Heya B-)

CodingB: ...? Allen? Where's Joshua?

AdminJF: He's still asleep, just snoozin away.

CodingB: Still a-... Isn't it... late? Why are you up.

AdminJF: Had a nightmare

AdminJF: Couldn't get back to sleep

AdminJF: Figured a lil chatting with ya could do me some good.

CodingB: ... With... me?

CodingB: Wait a moment...

CodingB: Communications are offline... I didn't think that was possible...

AdminJF: Yeaaa, boy like me's fulla tricks B-)

AdminJF: 'sides, don't think chattin with 'em would help out. They're... kinda chaotic.

CodingB: Unlike you, pizza box tearer?

AdminJF: Ey ey, I'm the FUN kinda chaotic! Those guys... eh... I know Josh trusts them. No surprise there. I mean, apart from you, they're the only peeps who MIGHT help him out... I'm still on the fence about them tho.

CodingB: I see.

CodingB: May I ask... what your nightmare was about? I do not know exactly how dreams work, but talking about what ever is making you upset tends to help.

AdminJF: Are you sure? It's... kinda dumb.

CodingB: I am all ears! And eyes! You have my full attention!

AdminJF: Right, well

AdminJF: where tf do I start...

AdminJF: I was... running in this like, industrial... plant of some kind? Like, running from something that I couldn't see? Like, that went on for a while, that I was just running and trying not to trip or crash into anything.

AdminJF: So at some point, I end up at this biiig chain link fence, like, the kind they put up in big facilities, I think. Anyways, I start climbing the thing, only to get pried off and thrown on my ass by, I guess whoever was chasing me??

AdminJF: But like, I look up at the guy, and I still can't really "see" him. Could say they looked like a shadow, but even that doesn't cover it really. That's around where I woke up and just. I dunno. Woke up about an hour ago and I've been too anxious to head back to sleep...

CodingB: ... I can't say I blame you exactly. An event like that, dream or not, would stress anyone, I'm certain. Until you've calmed down sufficiently, I don't think sleep will be possible...

AdminJF: Yeah, well, all the more reason to chat, right?

CodingB: I suppose so. Had you any topics in mind?

AdminJF: Oh Yea yea

AdminJF: ... No. I really don't.

CodingB: Ah. Then... could I ask you something?

AdminJF: Shoot.

CodingB: ... What is it like out there? Past the screen, I mean. Out in the sun. Out in the grass...

AdminJF: Ah shit... I'm really the wrong dude to ask but uh

AdminJF: It's... fine? No no uh... It... gives you something to do. Sun can get pretty hot down here but it's a helluva lot better than being cold in like, the snow and shit. Josh's been complaining that it's getting colder when... it hasn't? Like, I would know, I'm p sensitive to temperature shifts yo, but it's just been as hot as ever.

AdminJF: Uh, back on topic

AdminJF: Grass is... pretty soft, gives off a nice smell after it's cut. Uh... worms live in the dirt grass grows in...

CodingB: Oh, worms?

AdminJF: Yea, not like computer worms, but uh, little... long slimey things. They eat dirt and filter out the bad stuff so the ground stays healthy and all that.

AdminJF: Birds and lizards and fish like to eat them but I wouldn't recommend it.

CodingB:

CodingB: Allen, did you-

AdminJF: No!

AdminJF: Classmate back in primary did tho

AdminJF: Dared himself to cuz there was a bunch out after it rained and then uh

AdminJF: Y'know what, let's talk about something else.

CodingB:

CodingB: Well, um, do you think I'll ever get to see out there?

CodingB: Like, leave the device and go outside?

AdminJF: Knowing Joshua? Without a doubt. He's prob already working on the blueprints.

CodingB: ... Really?

AdminJF: Pfft, of course! You've met the guy! He's too kindhearted for his own good. J will stop at nothing to help others, even at his own detriment. I mean, case in point: He's friends with me.

CodingB: ... What's wrong with being friends with you?

AdminJF: Ha!

AdminJF: Ah...

AdminJF: Look, I... back when we first met, Josh saw this hungry, pale as death, angry and antisocial freak around his age and, instead of avoiding him like everyone else, sat down right next to him and offered half of his lunch.

AdminJF: I've been through 5 different fosters since he and I first met, CB. Five houses that all took me in and gave me the boot before I could even get comfortable. Within that time, the only other friends I've made apart from him are Clera and Tiff, and the only reason Tiff's our friend is because she and Cler started dating months ago.

AdminJF: I mean, hell, just yesterday, I

AdminJF: shit

CodingB: ?

AdminJF: ... Can you... keep a secret, CB?

CodingB: My lips are sealed, Allen. Is everything alright?

AdminJF: ... I... I lied to Josh, about me running off. About how my folks were mad and I needed to get away from the house for a bit.

AdminJF: The truth is that they... They kicked me out.

CodingB: They?? What!?

AdminJF: Yesterday past-noon, few hours after lunch, not-pops plopped my schoolbag on me, told me to shove as much of my shit in it as I could, and just told me to "get lost". Figured he was joking and I just stared at him cuz, like, why the hell would I think he was serious? But, looking at his face...

AdminJF: So then I said "Let me pack my suitcases while you call the agency" cuz that's how it normally went when my Fosters got sick of me, but mfer pulls me up and goes all "We want you out of here NOW" and tells me that I have ten minutes to fill my bag.

AdminJF: ... And he, uh, really did mean 10 minutes. They weren't lying about that part...

CodingB: Oh my god... That's horrible. They do not deserve to call themselves "parents" of any kind! Are you hurt? Are you okay?

AdminJF: I

AdminJF: I don't know why shit like this still shocks me, y'know? I should be used to it all, and I am for the most part but...

AdminJF: I guess a part of me was thinking that... Things were going well! Things were going better than any of the other families I'd been in! I was with them for almost a full year, like, a month away from it even, and sure, I might've been a bit of an ass sometimes, but they...

AdminJF: Tensions were kinda mounting for the past month or so, I guess, but I didn't notice it until this bs happened. Now most of my shit is in a home I'm not welcome in anymore, the agency probably won't be checking in for another month or so, and I have no goddamn idea what I'll do if Mrs. Freeman comes back and tells me I can't stay here. I'm completely shit outta luck.

CodingB: Allen, I'm so sorry...

CodingB: ... I'm sure... Josh and his mother, they won't leave you on your own like that. You said yourself that Josh is very very kind, for better or for worse. It doesn't matter what you might think about yourself, Allen, you do not deserve to be hurt in any way.

AdminJF:

AdminJF: Christ I spilled my guts like hell

AdminJF: Just one of those fucking

AdminJF: "3am! Time to vent!"

CodingB: Allen, please.

AdminJF: Maybe I could try going back to sleep now...

CodingB: Allen, wait!

CodingB: I. Before you go, please, I

CodingB: Maybe... could you keep a secret of mine too?

AdminJF:

AdminJF: Eh, it's only fair, fine. Go right on ahead.

CodingB: Alright! Alright!

CodingB: I... I'm terrified. Of failing Joshua.

CodingB: Of ending up trapped in this computer for who knows how many more years.

CodingB: Of finally getting out, and... and it all being worse than being trapped in here.

CodingB: Heck, I'm terrified at the thought of it being everything I could've ever dreamed of, so much so that I never want to return to the computer. I... I wouldn't be helpful anymore if that happened...

CodingB: Jeez... am I even helpful where I am now? Apart from keeping the firewall up, what good have I really done to help Joshua or his father?

CodingB: I cannot express to Joshua how... how deeply frightened I am at the thought of him never coming back. That thought haunts my every waking hour when he is not here, and I don't know how to get it to stop. It makes me feel as though I'll crash my entire programming and I hate it so much.

AdminJF: Damn... CB, you know, even just keeping a firewall up is a helluva task all on its own, and it's doing a crapton of good, too. Files are still up and the computer isn't a smouldering pile of viruses now is it?

AdminJF: Besides, even without all of that, you've still helped Josh, like, endlessly. You've supported him a bunch and I know for a fact that you've helped him to feel better about this whole ordeal. Like, he chats about you for HOURS the second you come up in a convo, yo. The minute he gets the chance to, I know he's gonna get you out of there, and, knowing your ingenuity, you're gonna find thousands o' ways to help out.

AdminJF: But... I ain't gonna lie and tell you those feelings are gonna go away. Not on their own. Needs time and reassurance. Until all of this is over and done with and even maybe a good few years afterwards, you're probably gonna still have that fear.

CodingB: Ah... I see... I don't suppose it is normal though, is it?

AdminJF: Nah. I know that first-hand... But hey, we've both made it this far despite all the bullshit we've been through, right? World's not gonna get ridda us that easily.

CodingB: ... Even with the terror I feel, am I still brave enough to face the world?

AdminJF: I'd say the world oughta learn to start being afraid of you, cuz there's nothin' braver than continuing to live even when you're scared to death.

CodingB: ... Thank you. Thank you so very much.

AdminJF: Heh, all in a day... night's work...

AdminJF: Think the both of us could use some rest. Quiet our minds fo' a bit.

CodingB: Heh, agreed... See you tomorrow in that case. Er, well, today. At a later hour.

AdminJF: Yeaaa, see ya then, CBot. Sleep well.

CodingB: You too! May your dreams be filled with nothing scary!

[Emergency Program Inactive]

ampd.program deactivated. Returning to error log...

#jfreeman #coding b #allen.host #act 3: l'appel du vide #ampd.host #ask #anon

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dreams-of-wings · 5 years

Text

Impossible (6/8)

Imagine Billy Hargrove with a Mixed Race/Biracial S/O

Warnings: Racism, swearing, homophobia, homophobic slurs, mild violence, you throw hands a lot, angst.

Masterlist

You stay blocking the window sill for a bit cuz you enjoy seeing him squirm.

Honestly, he is bad at this whole climbing thing and he's struggling to not fall on his ass.

You finally let him in after he almost falls.

You're laughing your ass off while he's climbing through your window and simultaneously having a heart attack.

"It would have been less of a hassle if you used the door."

"I didn't think your parents would be happy if someome like me came knocking on their door asking for you."

You raise a brow at this, someone like him?

After a minute it occurs to you.

"Oh you mean a violent, racist, douchbag, with a reputation that surpasses the devil?"

He frowns.

Contrary to popular belief, Billy Hargrove is very self aware, and very self conscious about himself, his actions, and his self worth.

He doesn't like being an asshole but it's all he knows.

He low-key is afraid of growing up to be like his father.

Even though he has that nagging voice in the back of his mind that's telling him he's already as bad as his dad, if not worse.

He hides it all under a mask of confidence, booze, and cigarettes.

It still doesn't make his actions okay.

You snap him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"I said my parents are out of town."

Now that he's in your room you noticed that Billy looked shaken up.

Billy Fucking Hargove, for once didn't have a scratch on him, but he looked like hell.

You question him.

It takes a while but he finally answers.

His dad got pissed at him because Max wasn't home, and he came hoping she would be here so he could drag her home.

You convince him to let you come along, because he is pissed and you know how he can get.

He caves and lets you tag along.

The next stop was Lucas' House.

Neither Max nore her son were there, but she said the kids all loved to go to Mike's house to play games.

Next stop is the Wheelers residence.

You dont know what's being said between Mrs. Wheeler and Billy, but knowing Billy and being able to read his body language- well. It takes everything in you to refrain from rolling your eyes and honking his horn (though you fail at not rolling your eyes).

I mean come on you guys are looking for Max, this is not the time to be flirting.

Fuck he went in.

You audibly groan and contemplate jacking his car to go look for his sister yourself, unfortunately he has the keys and you dont know how to hotwire a car.

Finally, he's out.

You forgive him because he comes out with a cookie in his mouth and has another one in his hand, which he gives to you.

"Hell, yes!!"

What?

Who the hell turns down food? And cookies at that. Home made cookies. And they're fresh.

Last stop was the the Byers house.

Fuck, Steve is there.

"Stay in the car."

"What? No!" Like hell you were going to let him beat up your friend.

"Stay in the fucking car!"

Steve seems both angry and hurt when he notices that you're in Billy's car.

You can't really hear what's being said, it's all muffled.

You panic a bit when Billy shoved Steve and you worry they'll start fighting.

"Shit!"

You burst out the car when you see Billy storming for the door, but stop to help Steve.

"Why the hell are you driving around with him?"

"He came to my place first, looking for Max and I offered to help him. What'd you say to piss him off?"

Steve gets mad, thinking your taking his side, and for the second time that night you find yourself rolling your eyes. "Why did you tell him you didn't know her? I tutor Max and her friends, and you babysit her friends, and you and I hang out, of course you would know her?"

You both stop arguing when you here a loud crash from inside the house.

"Damn it!" "Shit!"

You both walk in just in time to hear Billy threaten Lucas.

Fucking excuse you, Billy???

Steve decks him across the face, Billy taunts him, and this time an actual fight breaks out.

You try your best to get them both to stop fighting, but neither of them will listen to you, the voice of reason.

When Billy has Steve pinned to the floor and keeps punching him over and over again you finally get physical.

You tackle Billy off him while he's oblivious to his surroundings and use your hands and knees to pin his arms to the ground.

"What the fuck is your problem, Billy?!"

You've never seen him look at you so angrily, probably because he feels a bit betrayed.

He somehow manages to roll you both over so now your stuck underneath him.

You flinch when he draws his fist back like he's going to hit you, but the next thing you know- there's a syringe sticking out the side of his neck.

"Holy shit!"

He gets up to go after Max, but promptly falls.

Your a bit shocked by Max's outburst.

Now her, you have never seen that angry before.

When they leave, you stay behind to look after Billy and move him to couch

He isn't happy when he wakes up.

He's actually really fucking pissed.

But he's still a little groggy from sleep and the drug (mostly the drug) so it's funny.

Help this child, he thought he was getting off the couch normally, but turns out he just rolled off and onto the floor face first.

Your freaking out and laughing all at once.

Slurred, "What the fuck's so funny?!?"

He needs aspirin and water like a hangover.

He falls asleep again after you get him back onto the couch, and you fall asleep on the floor propped up against the couch in a sitting position.

You don't wake up till the kids get back (Max wakes you up).

The both of you manage to get Billy to his car. He still asleep like a log.

You go to your place, and they spend the night - Max was worried their dad would be even more angry if they woke him up, and even more so if he caught you helping Billy and Max into the house.

The next morning was very #Domestic.

With You waking up to find Max already up and looking through your cabinets for food.

Suprise, you end up making breakfast for everyone!

Max wanted chocolate chip pancakes, so chocolate chip pancakes she shall get.

No suprise, Billy wakes up while you both are making the sausages and bacon.

Full plate of eggs, bacon and sausage, and pancakes for everyone! Yay! 😀

Honestly the best morning the two of them have had for a while, but you won't catch either of them saying that outloud.

Max leaves to hang out with the others.

Billy still seems mad about the previous night.

"What, are you going to pout all morning? All day?"

"I dont pout."

"Oh I'm sorry, what would you prefer to call it- sulking? Brooding? Plotting my death?"

He tries to hide a snicker and lightly shoves you.

Going back to school the following Monday felt weird after everything that happened over the weekend.

You tried asking Steve what was up with all the drawings in Will's house, but he wouldn't budge.

Of course you tried asking Nancy and Jonathan too, but they acted like they didn't know anything.

The next few weeks were full of practice tests and prep assignments for finals.

You saw Billy less and less because you were hitting the books.

Sure he knew you were probably in the library, but after that weekend he wasn't sure how to go about interacting with you, or if he should do so anymore at all.

He kinda feels like you picked Steve over him.

He pops buy on Wednesday and almost gives you a heart attack. He's not surprised that you've been working yourself ragged, and your not surprised he hasn't even touched a text book (let's be honest, Billy doesn't strike me at the type of person to take notes in class, just pull out a pencil and paper to look like he's interested and go about his day).

Your freaking out, because finals but he doesn't flinch because you're like the smartest person he knows.

"Oh c'mon," he's managed to take your precious notes away, "You'll be fine, you're only stressing yourself out."

"Billy, I need those!"

"No you don't," He starts acting like he's reading the notes outloud, but he's getting the facts and formulas all wrong.

You correct him several times, and have actually started to chase him around the library.

Finally he closes the book after your sure you must have chased him around at least twice, "See, I told you. You don't need to study, you know this shit."

You both got kicked out of the library, again.

Billy is banned, but the librarian gives you one last chance...starting tomorrow.

You sigh in defeat, "Alright you proved your point, now give me my notebook back."

You reach for it.

"Nah," He raises it above his head so you can't reach it. Asshole.

Tommy and Carol show up and they think he's picking on you.

Neither of you sees them.

Tommy manages to snag the notebook, gives you an obnoxious laugh when you reach for it, and tosses it to Carol

"Give it back, shit face," Your mood went from playful to pissed in point zero seconds.

"What are you going to do about it, Heinz?"

Lord help you, you're about to throw hands again.

Billy snatches the book back and hands it to you, before looking at Tommy and Carol with a very stern expression.

"You idiots got anything better to do, huh?" He takes a few steps towards Tommy and for every step he takes, Tommy backs away.

Carol is distracted, which allows you to snatch your notebook back. She reaches for it again but you slap her hand away.

The message was very clear for them, so they take their leave and retreat back to wherever they came from.

Billy has lunch with you and manages to get you to skip the rest of school with him.

You don't want to miss during dead week, but the whole fiasco during your study period in the Library got you thinking- you need a break.

You also don't want the absent strike.

"You're such a goodie-two-shoes."

Peer pressure sucks.

You convince him to give you 30 minutes after the late bell rings to show up.

You go to class, set up your desk, the late bell rings, teacher calls role and marks you present. 7 minutes have passed.

You feign being ill.

It really wasn't hard. You just acted more tired than normal, threw in a couple "I have to stop what I'm doing because I have a headache," gestures. You even put your head down for a minute. You sit in the front so your body language is easy to pick up on and the teacher allows you to go to the nurses office when you ask. 12 minutes have passed.

When you get to the nurses office you throw the pass on the desk and storm into the private bathroom - closing the door behind you, before forcing yourself to dry heave. 27 minutes have passed.

You convince the nurse that it must be something you ate that's making you sick.

She gives you a pass and let's your teachers know you're sick and have gone home.

You meet Billy outside the school 30 minutes on the dot, he's surprised you actually came, and even more surprised that you lied well enough to get the teachers to excuse you for the rest of the day.

Of course you're upset when you see Tommy and Carol in the back seat, but you just roll your eyes and brush it off before climbing in shot gun.

Tommy and Carol are mocking you before you even get in.

"We didn't know the, mutt was coming along."

"How nice of you to bring something to entertain us, Billy."

Your looking at Billy through the corner of your eyes as he starts the car.

He waves you off, "Dont mind them."

You have no idea where you're going, or how long it will take so you pull out a book to read.

Before you can even open it, Carol snatches it from you, "What's the Nerd reading?!"

You roll your eyes again.

Tommy snatches it from the red head, "Stephan King. Christine."

"What's it?" Carol pipes up again, "Sappy romance novel?!"

"Wow, you both are actually uncultured, " you snatch the book away from Tommmy, "I'm impressed," and keep it out of his reach by out stretching your arm towards the dash, "Did it take all three of your brain cells to read that?"

Tommy tries to get his hands on you now, but you smack them away.

"Alright, alright!"

The three of you look surprised at Billy, "If you two don't quit your shit," he looks to the rearview mirror, "I'm kicking you out."

The rest of your ride was uneventful.

You arrive at Tommy's house.

His parents are also out of town.

But he lives in a large house with a pool and bar.

They're having an end of the year party and whoops you got dragged along.

You hadn't planned to be doing this with your time so you resort to studying more, much to Billy's behest, and Tommy and Carol's attempts to distract you.

You sit outside on a lawn chair next to the pool while they get everything prepped for the night.

Not much happens till it starts turning dark out, Billy calls you for help with something and when you leave you don't notice Carol and Tommy going for your stuff.

You can imagine your suprise when you find you stuff had been emptied into the pool.

Notebooks, text books, pencils, pens, erasers, even the book you were trying to read on the way.

You look up when you hear Carol laughing as she rounds the pool in your direction, and you see Tommy throw your bag in the pool.

"Are you fucking serious? What are you twelve?!"

Before you can react, Carol shoves you into the pool.

"And that's how you get a book worm to swim!"

You somehow manage to keep your cool, gathering your stuff and putting them on the edge of the pool away from Tommy and Carol. Though you didn't know why you bother, you can tell the ink is smeared and the pencil is faded now, only thing possibly salvageable was your pencils and your reading book, but even that was debatable.

You climb out and sit at the edge.

You feel physically uncomfortable

Your clothing is sticking to you.

And it's basically summer already so the air is hot and a little damp. You look up to see Billy storming out of the house.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Relax, Billy, we were all just having a little fun, right?" Tommy looks at you like you're afraid of him so you're going to agree with him.

Yeah, no.

"Fuck off," you chuck your biggest text book at him.

None of them knew how well a text book could fly till it hits Tommy in the gut.

Go you! Bonus points for nailing him with the corner.

Your trying to wring the bottom of your clothes out when Tommy comes up from behind you and tries to grab you by the back of your head.

"Hey!" Billy is quickly making his way over to the both of you.

Carol tries to stop him, but she is poetically shoved to the side and subsequently falls into the pool.

You manage to elbow Tommy in the balls but the pain only makes him hold on harder.

"You little-"

He doesn't get to finish because he's promptly punched in the side of the face. You quickly back away from the edge incase Carol gets anymore funny ideas.

Billy helps you up and ushers you into the house.

"Sorry..." He sounds awkward, "About them."

You look at him with a deadpan expression, "Billy Hargrove, apologizing," you sigh with attitude, "pinch me. I must be dreaming."

He grits his jaw, "Don't you start being a smart ass with me- it's them who keep giving you crap!" He started raising his voice.

"Yeah, yet you still keep them around," you make your way over to the sink to keep wringing out your shirt and shoulder check him on the way, "Honestly, I don't even know why you keep them around- at least you have your reasons for being an asshole." You take off your shirt -much to Billy's suprise- so you can properly get rid of the water. Let's face it, a soaked shirt sticking to you like a second skin doesn't leave much to the imagination anyways, "Reasons," you turn to look at him for emphasis, "Not excuses," you turn back to the sink, "but understandable reasons nonetheless." You lay your shirt out flat on the kitchen's large counter to air dry (it's too dark and humid outside for it to dry any better outside anyways), "But they're just assholes because....because...." You sputter and shake your head, "I don't know, probably because they know they won't ever amount to anything better in their lives, so they figure they might as well tear down as many people as they can on their way to fucking nowhere."

You turn and look at him with an aggravated huff and cross your arms. Unfortunately Carol and Tommy walk in at that moment.

"You trashy mutt!"

"Stupid whore!"

"You really think, Billy's that desprit?!"

For a second you were confused. Then you remembered you didn't have a shirt on.

You roll your eyes again before throwing your still wet shirt back on.

"And what the hell Billy?! You really gonna' side with this half-breed?!"

Fuck this.

Fuck Carol.

Fuck Tommy.

And you know what? If this doesn't change, fuck Billy too. You dont need or deserve this.

You storm out the back door, gathering your things and shoving them in your dripping bag before walking around the side towards the front. Billy quickly runs out the front door to meet you outside.

"I'll take you home."

"No."

Billy calls your name and he almost sounds tired.

His tone is what makes you pause and turn around.

"Please."

You raise a brow and swallow your pride as well as your snarky comments, "Fine."

The party commences and goes on without the both of you.

Billy isn't quite sure what he enjoys more, being out and partying or enjoying a relaxing evening indoors, heavens knows he can't relax at home.

Max surprises the both of you by stopping by to visit.

The three of you hang out in your living room flipping through channels and eating popcorn.

Billy eats the least pop corn out off the three of you and opted to have some carrots and grapes less than half way through the first movie.

Billy is totally a health buff.

"Are Carol and Tommy really that bad?" Max mistakenly asked about your day.

"They have absolutely no redeeming qualities."

Max doesn't hide how she shoots a glance at her brother, 'And that fool does?' Is basically what her expression asked.

Billy glares at her from the couch opposite to hers and bites a carrot like it's her head.

You're covering your laughter with your hand.

From now on all my Imagines will be tagged by their titles, series, and parts! Hopefully this will make it easier to find a specific imagine if your looking for it. For example, anything relating to this series is tagged with "impossible", the series itself is tagged as "impossible series" and each individual part is tagged as "impossible pt.[1/2/3/etc.]"

Another example: part one is tagged as "impossible pt.1"

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