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meek-boy-rogers · 7 years

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Out The Window

Fandom: Marvel

Words: 2,461

Summary: Y/N is set on befriending Bucky Barnes. She is set on making him as comfortable as possible in the Avengers Tower. She wants him to trust more people.

Warnings: Really none, just kinda brooding Bucky as usual.

I kinda like snatched Kim Possible’s lewk bc she’s iconic. I’d also like to note that if you are plus size, please do feel comfortable reading this bc you are Avengers worthy, I assure you. And I don’t write specific body descriptions but I would love to write for plus size!readers as I am one. I hope you enjoy though! Please leave feedback, thank youu!!

Bucky Barnes was probably the most quiet, reserved person that Y/N had ever met. As soon as he was placed next door to her in the Tower, she had a mission to befriend him, make him comfortable. All she wanted was for him to know that he had a place, he was welcome. That despite his past, people knew he was a good person, that he was innocent.

She started off by making him breakfast, although she usually made the team breakfast anyway. She woke up bright and early the Sunday following his arrival. Everyone was usually still asleep at this time, so she always took the quiet to cook up some waffles, bacon and eggs for the super heroes. By the time she was finished, they would all saunter in. Usually sleepy and smiling from the pleasant smell that filled the living space.

When Bucky didn’t walk into the kitchen like the rest, Y/N asked FRIDAY where he was located before making him a plate and pouring him a glass of orange juice. When she entered the training room, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was in fact in there. The sound of grunts and skin hitting a punching bag filled her ears, she was cautious. Not wanting to disrupt his workout.

She spoke softly, “Bucky, I made some breakfast.”

When all he did was look over at her with his usual brooding expression, she smiled awkwardly, setting the plate onto the bench along with the juice. When she finally made it out of his vicinity, she let out a loud groan while crossing her arms. She already knew this was going to be difficult but, damn.

Despite him never speaking to her, she still brought him breakfast daily. She would sometimes be stuck next to him on the couch and she would turn to him and comment on a scene of the movie that was playing. Or make a quick jab at Tony to get the man to crack a smile or even to laugh. Usually he looked at her with confusion etched into his features. Sometimes he’d just look down at his hands, purse his lips and get deep into thought. It was hard not to take it personally.

“He just needs some time, just keep trying. He’ll come back to it one day. I know he will.” Steve would say, anytime Y/N would talk to him about her aggravation. That was easy for him to say, he gets to speak to the man and make him comfortable and help him.

One night, Y/N found herself not being able to sleep. She was tossing and turning, lying on her back for a moment, eyes staring up to the dark ceiling. It was a sleepless night that she very rarely had. She checked her clock that sat next to her bed on her night stand. It read 3 A.M.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard thrashing and loud groans and grunts. Sitting up, she asked FRIDAY to turn on her lights. She looked around, seeing nothing. She heard it once again, taking a moment to let her mind put the pieces together. It was Bucky. Moments later she found herself in front of his door, debating whether to open the door or to knock. She knew it would startle him further if she knocked so she settled for creaking the door open quietly.

The sight nearly broke her heart. There, laid Bucky, sweat covering his face, his eyebrows scrunched together. She couldn’t tell if there were tears or not due to all the sweat. She walked quietly over to the side of his bed, kneeling next to him. She let one hand find there way to his palm, making calming circles in his skin. The other went to his drenched hair, she ignored that he was dripping in sweat and opted for soothing him out of his nightmare.

“Hey, shh. It’s okay, you’re okay. Bucky, it’s alright. You’re safe, I’m right here.” She spoke smoothly into his ear. He was calming down. His breathing was slowing. She continued the mantra to him, rubbing the circles into his hand for a few minutes before she quietly stood up and made her way back to her room. She fell into a deep sleep after that, feeling happy that Bucky would probably have a peaceful sleep till morning comes.

The following morning, the usual routine took place. Y/N made breakfast for the team, watching them sleepily make their way into the kitchen. She would walk to the training room, tell Bucky she made breakfast and then leave it at the bench. He didn’t speak, he didn’t nod, he just gave her the same frown and scrunched brow he always did.

When it came time for the crew to suit up and leave for a mission, she suited up into her usual army green pants that hugged her hips, but were open and free waist down. She had her long sleeve black tee, and boots that she treasured. Her gun in its rightful holster on her hip. Don’t let that deceive you though, she always had one strapped to her ankle and she had her switch blade tucked securely in her waistband.

This was the first mission since Bucky’s arrival, so Steve was being an extra hard ass on the team not to fuck up. The whole ride to the destination he told us to stay in pairs and to insure we will be safe, he paired us all. Nat and Clint, Wanda and Vision, he paired himself with Sam, Tony insisted he was a big boy and he could handle his own, and he finally paired Y/N with Bucky. She couldn’t help but look over at him with a big smile, offering him a big thumbs up in an attempt to lighten the stressed mood that Steve seemed to settle them all with. She could have sworn she seen his lip curl up, but as soon as it was there, it was gone.

Once the large SUV stopped in front of the last known Hydra building, everyone piled out, weapons up, ready. Bucky led the way for Y/N, every pairing took a separate direction. Y/N made sure to keep her back to the wall, her eyes trying to focus on everything at once. They came across a door, but as Y/N turned the knob, it was locked. She sighed before taking a step back and using all her force to kick it down. She was pleased with herself when the door swung open, had she only seen Bucky’s surprised look before he smiled the tiniest bit.

The mission was another boring one, there was only a handful of agents in the facility and they didn’t put up much of a fight once the whole lot cornered them. Either way, while Y/N was left to load them all into S.H.I.E.L.Ds bus, she wasn’t gentle with them. She found joy on letting them climb up the step before she kicked them right in the ass, letting them face plant into the ground, not having the luxury of using their hands to stop themselves from falling. Every time one of the Hydra agents would hit the ground, she would let out a loud laugh, before clapping. Like she was watching the best comedy she’d ever seen.

“You got to love Y/N, she really is one of the most bad ass, childish people out there.” Natasha was speaking to the team, while she was laughing. Everyone else let out a hearty laugh, while Bucky still sat with a frown and his brows scrunched. He was having a hard time holding his trust in, he feared of trusting anyone new. He only had room for Steve right now, but his heart was slowly making room for one more person.

Y/N didn’t realize that she started to stay up later. She would find herself awake when she heard the heartbreaking sound of Bucky letting out yelps, sometimes a quiet sob. She would enter his room late at night, one hand in his hair, the other tracing soft circles on his palm.

“You’re okay, Bucky. You’re safe. I’m here. Shh, baby it’s okay.” She repeated softly into his ear, waiting for his breathing to settle and for the soft snores to return.

The next morning when her alarm went off at the usual 6:30 A.M. all she wanted to do was go back to sleep, having gotten very few hours of sleep. But, she couldn’t. She couldn’t break routine, she had to make breakfast. She had to, or the last month would’ve been for nothing. She would have wasted all her time to get Bucky to be comfortable for nothing. So, she made her way into the kitchen.

In the waiting process for the waffles to finally finish, she rested her took a seat on the stool, letting her eyes fall. She was going to shut her eyes for a moment. Just a moment, she told herself.

But, when she was awakened by panicked yells of, “Y/N! The waffle maker is on fire, what the fuck!” coming from Tony, she jumped up and nearly fell trying to stand up, getting off the stool. The whole team, surprisingly including Bucky, were standing around in a panic. Not one of them trying to put the fire out in a logical way. Y/N quickly got the fire extinguisher she put under the sink when they first moved in, putting the fire out. She turned around and shoved the extinguisher into Tony’s arms.

“You guys are so incapable of handling the smallest things. I’m going back to bed, figure out breakfast yourselves for once.” She called out, as she made her way back upstairs to her room. The team looking at each other with a confusion written on their faces.

“It appears that Ms. L/N has been getting very little sleep the past couple of nights. It seems that late at night she is in Mr. Barnes’ room while he is having a nightmare. Would you like me to play the footage?” FRIDAY spoke, clueless that it shouldn’t tell the team everything.

It was like a switch was flipped when everyone’s heads snapped to Bucky’s all at once. He was just as confused as they were. He scrunched his brows together, trying to remember if he heard voices in the middle of his dreams. He could vaguely remember hearing a soft, sweet voice speaking to him before the bad men vanish in his mind and is replaced with just darkness, nothing. He was free of the ongoing nightmare.

“She… she’s the reason I’m not having nightmares all night. I realized they were going away but I-I just thought it was because I was getting better.” Bucky put the pieces together for the others.

“Go talk to her, Buck.” Steve nudged his best friend. He hoped this would help him open up more, let more people into his heart other than just Steve.

Y/N was just about to drift to sleep, when she heard a soft knock on her door. She groaned into her pillow, before rolling out of her bed to open her door. She didn’t expect it to be who she saw. Bucky, standing in front of her. It was different though, he didn’t have his scrunched brows or frown, his lips weren’t pursed. Instead, he had a soft smile. His eyes were softer, gentle. His eyebrows lay in their rightful place, but you could still see that lines that imprinted his forehead from how much he would have them scrunched together.

“Hi.” His voice had its usual roughness to it, but it was still soothing.

“Would you like to come in?” She asked, stepping aside, letting the door open further. She would have never thought to describe footsteps as gentle, or kind but it was weird. He walked in with so much feeling, something she had never witnessed before in her life.

“I, um, I wanted to thank you for doing what you did, or do. FRIDAY told us all that you have been staying up and coming into my room when I start to have my nightmares. I know I’ve been quite cold to you when all you’ve done was be nice to me, I just wanted to say thank you.” He was sat on Y/N’s bed, his hands laced together. Eyebrows once furrowed again, as he focused intently on his metal hand, the grooves and detail of it.

Y/N had always been the type of person that liked looking at peoples faces when they spoke, she liked looking into people’s eyes. Especially Bucky’s, they are blue and soft. So, she knelt in front of him, her hands taking hold of his, causing him to look at her.

“I will gladly help you every night if I have to, I want you to heal. I want you to get better, but hey. If it takes weeks, months, even years. I will be there for you. You don’t have to be alone in this, James.” He didn’t need to answer, she didn’t force him to. When he nodded, she nodded back. She understood that he understood.

When Bucky had his next nightmare, Y/N didn’t have to stay up all night and run to his room. Bucky begged her to let him stay in her room, so she could still get sleep and he could rid of his nightmares. When he started to thrash, letting out small grunts, Y/N woke up. She scooted closer to the distressed man, grabbing his hand bringing it up to her chest, she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, placing a kiss to them before whispering to him.

“It’s okay, Buck. You’re safe, I’m here.” Her tired voice cracked every other word, but she didn’t care. She was going to soothe him into a comfortable sleep. Although, she did the opposite. His eyes blinked open, he looked to his left to see Y/N, her eyes closed still, she was whispering repeatedly, “You’re safe, Bucky. I’m here.”

“I know.” Bucky said, startling Y/N. When she opened her eyes, Bucky was smiling. He just loved how she was half asleep herself, trying to put him back into a peaceful rest. When she finally relaxed, she cuddled into his side, resting her head on his chest.

“Sleep.” She said, one simple word. Bucky couldn’t help the fond smile that crept onto his face. For the first time in a long time, it seemed that maybe he wouldn’t be plagued with the horrible memories of his time as The Winter Soldier. When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of peace. He dreamed of the future, perhaps being happy with Y/N by his side.

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kitkat1003 · 7 years

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Just Know You’re Not Alone

@snarkyowl Finally I got around to writing an Anti thing for the Kids Au

First Fanfic for Kids Au here(read it or this will make no sense)

The first few nights Anti has in this new house-Chase’s house, not his new house because he won’t be staying for long-he has the same dream, or nightmare. He isn’t sure which.

He’s walking in a void, black spanning his vision, until a blue speck appears, and he walks towards it and it becomes a person, someone with kind eyes and his same hair style and he as the sudden urge to reach it. He sprints then, bolting towards this figure that is crying out his name but he can’t hear the word said.

“Help!” It always cries for him, and just when he’s about to save it, to grasp its outstretched hand-

He wakes up, dark green spots curling around the sides of his fuzzy vision, and his chest will feel tight and constricted, and he’ll stare out the window till morning, feeling something and yet nothing at all.

Breakfast is loud, but Anti remains quiet, brooding as Chase tries for the fifth time to guess his favorite style of eggs, but Anti never nods, simply eats the food with a sour expression and feels a sick sense of glee when Chase’s face falls. After that, Schneep runs in from his night shift, douses his brain in coffee and eggs and bacon, and then runs back off to work, giving each child a pat on the head. Anti doesn’t care enough to swat the man’s hand away when his hair gets ruffled, but he still growls, moving his hands as if he wants to make the motion so as to at the very least prove a point.

From there Chase will work on his computer and allow them free reign of his house, so long as they don’t kill each other or break things, and that’s when Anti breaks every rule. He smashes a plate and leaves it there for Chase to step on later, he pushes Marvin over and threatens to snap his stupid wand in half to the point that Marvin starts to cry-he doesn’t touch the mask, because Anti will push but he can sense something so naïve and hurt curling around the item in the way Marvin always protects his face first that he stops-, he punches Jackieboy in the arm so hard that the so called hero is knocked into the wall, and he trips Robbie over and ‘accidentally’ hits the back of Robbie’s head with his foot as he walks by.

He does all this, but Chase doesn’t explode, doesn’t yell or throw things like he expects, but instead he just gives Anti a kind, if scolding, stare, eyes tired and hands picking broken plate out of his bloody foot and Anti is hit with sudden guilt that he hates because he doesn’t care, but he grab the first aid kit anyway, holding it awkwardly as Chase continues to pick out the sharp ceramic shards from his skin.

“Yknow, you’re kind of like a sour patch kid,” he says, and Anti tilts his head to the side in confusion. “First they’re sour, then they’re sweet,” Chase gives him a grin and a wink, and Anti’s ears burn with his cheeks in some sort of anger as he throws the kit at Chase’s face and stomps away.

It’s so utterly perplexing, because adults aren’t supposed to care, at least not about a kid like him, and he doesn’t want to be here but he doesn’t want to leave, and he’s expecting to be kicked out every day because he keeps pushing but Chase will always look at him as if he understands-how in the hell could Chase understand-and smile and Anti hates it.

He doesn’t want to think about what it means that his parents seem to be the only bad adults he’s known. He doesn’t want to and he can’t.

He has the same dream, and he stares at the ceiling for a while before going back to the usual view of the moon outside the window. He listens to the sounds of Robbie’s wheezing breaths and thinks about where he’ll go when it’s time to leave.

Anti finds Robbie the most tolerable, and at the very least the most relatable of any of his housemates. Robbie is quiet and unobtrusive, but has a mischievous streak a mile wide, hiding all of his deviousness behind a bland stare.

When Robbie explains his story in sloppy handwriting, and Anti feels something akin to understanding, because even if Robbie hadn’t gone through quite as much when it came to parental treatment, Anti can see that being left behind has left a hole where trust in some adults had been, and that Anti can relate to.

He is the first one to learn ASL in the house, learning it with Robbie because waiting for Robbie to write out his thoughts and then trying to decipher his shitty handwriting is annoying. They laugh over signs like ‘Fuck’ and ‘Shit’, but Anti’s absolute favorite is the sign for ‘flying vagina’.

Even though he uses the language as mostly a means to curse people out without being scolded for it when he’s not talking to Robbie, Chase will look at him signing and practically glow with pride, and Anti shrinks away from that light like it burns, because he doesn’t know why any adult would look at him that way.

Being around Chase is like being around a puzzle you can’t solve, and Anti always eyes the man with suspicion because there’s no way someone this tired, this overworked and exhausted and having to deal with four rowdy kids at once, can be so damn patient and kind. No fucking way is that possible.

He wakes up from a dream, but this one he’s sure is a nightmare.

It’s the same damn scenario, the same light blue person calling for him, for help, but this time Anti is sinking into the floor, black sludge crawling up his legs as he tries to save said blue person and he can’t help but panic, can’t help but struggle because the blue person is running towards him as well and he’s reaching out but his vision is blocked and he’s breathing in tar and-

He wakes up and claws at his skin, but for some reason he actually starts to bleed and that’s when he notices the sharp fingernails that have grown in, and then he feels how his ears have turned sharp and pointy, and there are horns sticking out of his head.

He panics again.

No one can see him like this!

He hides under the bed until morning, shouting at Robbie to fuck off and refusing to come down for breakfast, arm that has turned black like the tar in his dream only reaching out to grab his blanket so he can curl up in it and hide.

Chase comes in, and does not ask Anti to come out; rather, he doesn’t say anything at all. He sets Anti’s breakfast on the bedside table, and walks back out, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Anti darts out and locks the door, walking back over to the breakfast, and he should be hungry and he should be happy because it’s his favorite style of egg-Chase finally got it right, poached with only pepper on it-but he’s so utterly confused and angry so he upturns the plate, the eggs and bacon and sausages smacking against the wall, splattering the yolk and Anti pulls at his hair as he tries to make sense of this rising fury.

He turns around, and suddenly his vision is assaulted y the image of himself, of his black claws and green horns and gross, bright green eyes and Anti hates it, hates everything and hates himself the most so he smashes his hand into the mirror but it only makes more and more images of his ugly fucking face so he curls up in his blankets under his bed and tries to forget what a fucking monster he is.

He falls asleep at some point, a mess of hot tears and scratches on his arms, but when he wakes up he’s tucked into his bed, claws and horns gone, bandages on his arms. He looks over, and the mess of breakfast has been cleaned up. Dinner has been takes its place on the bedside table.

The food is still warm, and Anti wonders why Chase bothers to care about him at all.

Anti knows money is tight. He knows, recognizes the tired slump in Chase’s and Schneep’s shoulders when they get home from work that doesn’t pay nearly enough for the effort they put in. He knows from the way breakfast becomes cereal instead of eggs, bacon, and sausage because those three items are expensive and cereal is cheaper. He knows from the way Chase eats little, how Schneep somehow eats less, but his own plate is always piled high with enough to make him full.

He wants things, still, when they go on their bi-weekly grocery store trip, so he stuffs the snack-it’s green apple gummy snacks because he likes the aesthetic and the flavor-in his pocket but somehow, magically, Chase sees and grabs the snack out of his hands and stuffs it into the basket.

“If you wanted it so bad you could of just asked,” he tells Anti with a smile, but Anti is panicking because that’s just more money Chase has to spend on him and he can’t stand it, he hates how kind Chase’s eyes are even with the large bags beneath them, hates how small Chase’s wallet is and hates the bills that roll in and leave Chase hunched over as he stares at them and tries to figure out how to make them all fit.

He knows what happens to parents at the end of their rope, at the end of the line in money and he’d sell himself to some asshole just so he could get rid of himself so Chase wouldn’t have to…to deal with the stress and the work and it’s this odd dichotomy of wanting to destroy everything so Chase will make him leave and wanting to be the best child in the world so Chase will want him to stay.

“I-I don’t want it!” He cries out in his panic, and Chase halts, looking down at him with a confused stare. “I was just stealing it so you’d get in trouble, cause it’d be funny to see ya in jail,” His words slice through the air like knives and he sneers, but he knows with an annoying certainty that Chase doesn’t quite believe him as he puts the gummy snacks back.

But he puts them back, he doesn’t have to pay for them, and for Anti it’s a win.

Anti wonders sometimes, how many kids wake up in the middle of the night to sneak out and commit murder.

He doesn’t like to think that he actually kills the people, that he slits their throats and pulls out their eyes while holding a hand over their mouth to keep them from screaming, but the blood is quite literally on his hands when he can see the carnage his claws create, so he isn’t sure he has an excuse.

He isn’t sure why he has to wake up after the kill, why the demon won’t walk him home or at least get him far enough away so he doesn’t see it, so he doesn’t have to stare at pools of blood and so many things he doesn’t believe kids his age should see, but it isn’t as if he gets to ask, so he trudges home-it never takes him more than two hours, which he supposes is a kindness-crawls up and into his open window before sneaking into the bathroom to wash all the blood off of his arms and shirt.

Wearing black really helps with hiding the stains, at the very least.

Every day after he might flinch a little bit when someone draws near, might be quieter and more tired than usual, but he keeps his words sharp and poisonous. He won’t let anyone think he’s anything but okay, because he’s fine, and he’s just a jerk who they should kick out.

He doesn’t notice until later, but the snacks he refused have made their way into the pantry, as if waiting for a bad day.

Anti wants to tear out his hair in frustration

The after is…odd.

Meeting Dark. Finding out Dark is a demon. Realizing Dark can get the demon out of his head. Telling Chase. Getting rid of the demon.

Normal everyday things.

Anti no longer dreams of someone-Dark tells him that it was his soul crying out because it was in pain-begging for help. He dreams of moments of softness, when his mom would tuck him to bed and for a moment Anti though she loved him, for a moment and then for years until it was crushed so swiftly that it leaves an ache in his chest.

He dreams of a gameboy and hours spent playing on it. He dreams of a dingy apartment on the first floor that always seemed unclean, dreams of late night dinners and staring at a black and white tv, dreams of calling his dad to help with math homework, dreams of home home home and Anti thinks he’d rather have the dreams that didn’t make sense to the ones that do with sharp clarity because threw him out but he misses them.

The first time he crawls into Chase’s bed, he is so, so careful not to wake him, to the point that he almost forgets to breathe because if Chase wakes Anti won’t have the courage to crawl under the covers and bask in the comfort of an adult that maybe, just maybe cares-and doesn’t he remember crawling in between his parents after a bad dream, listening to them groan at his arrival but they never told him to leave and somehow their presence made the nightmares go away?-because asking is too painful and Chase’s knowing eyes will suck the bravery out of him.

Chase never comments, as if he knows-of course he does he seems to know everything-that Anti will stop should he mention it, and Anti will try and hide the blush on his ears and face from embarrassment and will fail and he isn’t sure how to make it stop.

He just wants his head to settle, his chest to feel full, his eyes to be clear, and the weight on his back to disappear.

The first time he sees her he doesn’t recognize her.

His mom had lovely brown hair and lime green eyes that Anti inherits, but now her hair is bright blonde and her lips are curved up and there are no lines on her face, so when he sees this woman he does a double-take before she disappears from view and Chase calls his name because he’d stopped for too long in the middle of the mall.

The second time they’re a crowd, because Dark and his mob of children-honestly Anti is so envious to how many kids Dark has and yet so little stress he has with money; wishes he could take it and give it to Chase so Chase wouldn’t look so tired-are with them on the very rare occasion when everyone is free, and when Anti sees her, they lock eyes, and she gasps.

He knows just from the sound of her intake of breath who she is, knows it with a thrum in his chest that tells him Mom before it is crushed by the weight of she sold you to your own death, but now everyone is looking at him and at her and Anti looses the word in his head as it falls out of his mouth.

“Mom?”

She blanches, pale as a sheet and frightened because everyone now knows, and Anti hasn’t told them everything, but the adults can connect the dots from the way Anti acts, how hides from love like it burns and how his words are sharp as if expecting an attack, and they see guilt on his Mom’s face and they all flip; not the caring parents but the vengeful fathers.

“Wilford, do you mind taking the kids with Host and Iplier?” Dark’s voice is below zero, chilling and scary and ringing and Wilford nods, looking rueful as if also wishing to get a shot-when did the revolver appear in his hands- but ushering everyone away, and Chase is telling Marvin and the others to follow and Anti is just staring, staring and trembling and wondering and so utterly breathless as she stares back at him.

Hatred would make sense. Disgust, anger, something like a fire in her eyes would make it easy for him to understand, because what can he say? He’s a shit kid.

When she looks at him, her eyes show nothing; are empty. No emotion. No thought.

He means nothing to her.

The void closes around the five of them, Anti, Schneep, Chase, Dark, and his mother, but Anti steps forward, and suddenly it’s just him and her.

Suddenly he’s back at the little creepy shop with the clothed man, and his Mom is promising that she’ll be back, and everything feels fine and he’s so trusting and so kind as she pretends, pretends and lies and lies and he gets taken back and dies and it’s all her fault why why why-

“You LIED!” And it’s like a roar, a shaking cry that burst out of him before he can stop it, and she flinches, but he isn’t nearly done with this rising tidal wave of something. “You lied and LEFT me there!” Another step, and Anti starts to lose sight to a haze of red because he’s so angry, so hurt and so confused and suddenly he hears her whimper and the haze clears as he sees his Mom curled in a ball, shaking and hiding her face from him and it hurts and everything hurts and Anti is so tired and lonely and confused.

“Why?” Because isn’t that the crux of it all? “What did I do?”

He must’ve done something. He must’ve hurt her, made her feel this way. He must’ve made a wrong along the way that caused this terrible butterfly effect.

“I never wanted you,” And her voice is a harsh whisper, cold and angry and because she knows she’s not leaving this place alive so she’s going to dig her claws and rip out whatever she can as her last hurrah. “You were a mistake, Jack, the biggest mistake I ever made.”

Anti hadn’t remembered his name until it fell out of her lips for the first time in a year and a half.

“I got rid of you because you were nothing but a useless, stupid, mistake. But I guess I didn’t do well enough throwing you out,” And Anti is frozen as her lips make their way to a cold smile, and Anti is frozen as Schneep and Dark step forward in fury and disgust, and Anti is frozen as Chase picks him up and hides his face in his chest and Anti is frozen as he starts to cry and Anti is frozen when they get to a place that should be home but doesn’t feel like it yet and Anti is frozen when Chase starts calling his name.

Static fills his head that muffles words and only leaves room for his mom’s dialogue to echo in his skull and he’s so, so angry, angry at his Mom and at himself and at Chase and he’s shoving Chase away and squirming out of his grip because he’s so, so mad.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He shouts, eyes blurry with tears and Chase has his hands held up in, and he’s walking towards Anti like one would a scared animal but Anti isn’t scared, he isn’t.

“Anti, I’m sorry you had to-,”

“Had to what?! See the person who fucking sold me?! Is that it?!” And he says it because he’s tired of Chase always acting as if he knows, wants to see the surprise on his face and he does, Anti notes with glee, Chase eyes widen and he chokes on a gasp and if everything didn’t hurt so much Anti might laugh.

“She fucking, she fucking left me there! She told me she was coming back and she lied! And then, and then I got stuck like this!” Chase is silent as Anti makes a sweeping gesture to himself, showing off the fucked up kid Anti believes himself to be, and Anti can’t stop the words from vomiting out of his mouth like projectiles, each a bullet piercing Chase’s skin but leaving no marks.

“She-she didn’t even care…” And the words trail off because it hurts to say them more than anything, and Chase takes a tentative step forward.

“Anti-,”

“And you!” Anti’s voice raises up like a new wave, and Chase almost flinches back from the sharp contrast of volume. “You always act so-so stupidly nice! Why do you care?! I’m an asshole! I break things! I hurt the others! You have to pay for me and I don’t do anything nice and I just-,” he pulls at his hair, trying to get the words to come out right, trying to make everything click but it doesn’t. “Don’t you get that it’d be easier if you’d just kick me out already!”

And there it is, the crux of it all, because Anti doesn’t understand, when he’s worse than he’s ever been, the fact that Chase lets him stay, the fact that Chase enjoys his company, the fact that Chase doesn’t mind the expenses and the shouting and the broken plates and everything and-

He’s enveloped in a hug.

Huh.

“I’m sorry your mother doesn’t care,” Those are the words Chase says, feather soft and kind and gentle, and Anti’s limbs stop trembling because the words are like blanket. “You deserved a better parent than her, and that’s who I want to be,”

“But-,”

“The world doesn’t rest on your shoulders, Anti. You don’t have to worry about money. You’re a kid, and you don’t make life easier or harder, and even if you did make life harder, I’d rather live a hard life than easy one after kicking you out,” And Chase pushes Anti so their eyes lock, and Anti is mesmerized by the resoluteness in Chase’s eyes, the lack of a lie.

“I don’t want you to worry about leaving, I don’t want you to worry about money, I just want you to be you. I just want you to be happy.”

It takes a moment for the words to register, for the meaning behind them to sink into Anti’s mind and really make sense, and when it does, his eyes go blurry again.

Anti shoves his face into Chase’s chest, grips his t-shirt, and sobs.

When Marvin and the others get back, Anti is sitting on the couch, a pack of the gummies that he wanted but was afraid to ask for while watching a cartoon show that he isn’t following, and the three of them don’t speak, they simply crawl next to him, Robbie on his one side and Marvin on the other with Jackieboy at Marvin’s other side. Robbie’s head leans on his shoulder, and Marvin’s arms wrap around one of them, and Anti can’t find it in himself to mind, even if it means he can’t eat the gummies. It’s not as if they’ll go bad, and the warmth is comforting.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up they’ve all gravitated towards him, and there’s a blanket on top of them, leaving him to be in the middle of an almost too warm cuddle pile of people he might just think of as family because-

Brothers and fathers and days spent signing jokes, moments where a magic trick will make his eyes sparkle, games and play fighting that makes Anti grin with mischievous intent instead of harsh anger and mornings of jokes and laughter and hair ruffles and soft eyes and smiles.

Chase walks in from the kitchen, holding a glass of water, and their eyes meet. It’s a question of whether he’s okay, silent and gently probing, and Anti would shrug if he could.

Instead, he gives Chase a lopsided smile.

He falls asleep, and for the first time dreams of the place he’s starting to call home.

#kids au #antisepticeye #chase brody #listen to home by phillip phillips while reading this #and cry #kitkat1003

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