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jocazep · 4 years ago

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In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 11

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Synopsis: Having grown up in the Front Sections of the Snowpiercer, you venture down the train when a rare opportunity presents itself, but the excursion quickly changes flavor when you arrive in the Tail Section.

A/N: Sooooo it's been a while... mainly because I didn't want to write the inevitable [SPOILER] of a certain character...but alas, the fanfic must go on. So here we go again...

Taglist: Now closed

Series Masterlist

Chapter 11 - Breaking Bread

“I forgot to ask,” you reached out to grab Curtis’ right arm as the gang shuffled along the green aisles of the garden section.

“What?” Curtis was too busy looking at the overwhelming plants, trees, and vegetables that he thought had long been extinct in the world. It was a beautiful sight, you had to admit, especially compared with the monotone bleakness of the tail section. So beautiful that when Namgoong opened the door, everyone’s eyes, with the sole exception of Mason’s, lit up as this unimaginable paradise was presented to them.

“That little scar on your forearm--”

“It’s nothing--” you felt his arm stiffen beneath your hand, his left hand involuntarily scratching the coat over the position of the scar. To be honest, you could barely remember what it looked like anyway. In the heat of passion last night, your eyes caught a long, even line near the elbow that looked more like the remnant of a precision surgery than a battle scar.

“All right, keep your mysterious cool guy aura then,” The scar piqued your interest, but you decided against pushing for an answer--there will be time after the matter at hand... You grabbed tighter onto his arm, tip-toeing to place your lips near his ear and whisper, “Tease.”

Curtis turned around, surprised. You didn’t need to forego all the fun, right?

“No, no, no don’t eat that--” a worker reached out to Tanya, who had picked up a tomato.

“It’s OK, just a tomato.” You calmed the worker down, rolling up your sleeve, “Here use my credit.” The worker took out the scanner, still hesitant, but obliged you. A small beep sounded and you were on your way.

“What was that?” It was Curtis’ turn to be curious.

“Well up front we have this thing called currency--” you joked, but the sight ahead distracted your audience.

You had come to the aquarium section.

Moments later, the eight of you were sitting along the sushi bar, staring at the plates of exquisite raw fish in front of you.

“So, sushi.“ Tanya took up her serving and popped it into her mouth.

“You people are lucky! This is only served twice a year, January, and July,” Mason decided this was a good time to open her mouth.

“Why, not enough fish?” Tanya quibbed dryly, as a massive manta flowed overhead.

“Enough isn’t the criterion,” You absent-mindedly took over the conversation from Mason as you poured the soy-sauce for your toro nigiri, “It’s balance--”

You lift your head to put back the soy-sauce, only to realize everyone to your right was looking your way, waiting for you to finish your thought.

“What about balance?” Curtis, sitting to your left, asked.

You whipped your head back, a quick moment as you looked at the man--he will need to know sooner or later, right?

“Be...because of that--” you pointed to the whiteness outside, the remnants of a metropolis whipping past, “the only way this aquarium was going to survive, was by becoming a closed ecological system. The number of individual units must be very closely, precisely controlled in order to maintain the proper, sustainable balance.”

“Like so many other things on this train.”

You passed a stern look to Mason, who was bitterly fiddling with the iron around her wrists.

“Whoever designed this got really lucky then,” Namgoong commented.

“Oh no, back in the first year my--” you caught yourself before the word “father” slipped out, “my friends told me they had to get rid of the fish that couldn’t fit into the food chain...”

“What, the restaurant served exclusively fish?” Curtis could almost hear Edgar’s ranting in his ear.

“Some,” You picked at the wasabi, smearing it on your sushi, “a lot of them got made into taxidermies for posterity...” It was only after the room became quiet that you realized you misspoke, “I’m sorry...It was...”

“It’s all right, it’s what actually happened,” Curtis put his arm on your shoulder, pulling you closer towards him.

You couldn’t let it go that easily of course. Remember your surroundings, you were bothered that your father’s voice rang up in your head. But the truth was you probably needed a reminder, after such a long time with the revolters, it’s easy to forget what you were really here for. Better now than later.

But it seemed the meal was just destined to go awry--no sooner had Mason picked up her chopsticks, than Curtis pulled on the chain, jerking the tools out of Mason’s control.

“No,” Curtis palmed out a protein bar, waving it in front of Mason, “You eat this. Know what it’s made of?”

Mason took it up, and threw a quick look at you, only to realize you had pre-empted her by turning your attention to Yuna sitting to your right.

“Curtis my friend, this seems uncalled for--“

“I’m not your friend, and this is 100% called for.”

”Would I be your friend if I had classified information about Wilford?“

Uh-oh. You forced yourself to turn your head--naturally and slowly--towards Curtis and Mason, “Curtis...” You lay your hand on his, and shook your head.

You could swear you saw his nostrils flare up a little, “We have had to eat this for, hell you have had to eat this for--”

“But isn’t the point of the revolt--”

“The point,” Curtis wriggled his hand from underneath yours, and flung the protein bar at Mason, “is to make them pay for what they did to us--”

“Make them pay? Weren’t we fighting for equal quality--“

“Not after what they did to Edgar--”

“How is degrading Mason any help?”

“At least I’ll sleep a little better knowing I made one front-sectioner get a taste of their own medicine.”

The words hung like leaden rings in the air, reverberating through your spine. Mason looked on, unsure how to react.

“Well,” after a long while, you finally opened your mouth, “then let that be me instead.”

Curtis, like everyone else, was taken aback. They watched as you reached out, switching the protein bar with your own sushi serving.

“Jo, that’s not what Curtis meant...” Tanya tried to diffuse the situation, but you ignored her, biting down on the brownish jelly, forcing the rubbery morsels down your throat. It tasted even worse than you remembered.

When you couldn’t stomach any more of the protein bar, you stuffed the rest in your pocket, got to your feet, and walked to the far end of the aquarium.

Curtis made a move to follow you, but Tanya stopped him, “let her blow off a little steam.” Curtis nodded, still hesitant, his eyes trailing your footsteps as they quickened the closer you moved towards the restroom.

Yuna ran past, intent on following you, but was met with the slamming of the steel door in her face. She looked back at Curtis and company, a little confused and hurt.

On the other side of the door, you were puking your guts out, eyes welling up, nose running. It wasn’t just the thought of eating protein extracted from millions of locusts that turned your stomach--the little clash had brought a stern reality check in your head: this is a revolt, and whatever the original intent, if Curtis and Co succeed, there will be suffering and chaos before any sort of balance is reached.

Guess the old man was pretty perceptive after all...you thought as you finally straightened up, wiping your face with water, trying to recall what your father had planned in case the revolt went further than the water section, only to realize Wilford had actively excluded you from that conversation.

You were wondering if he had predicted your eventual realization of the irreconcilable conflict between your visions of change and those of the revolt when a gentle knock sounded at the door. You checked your face in the mirror, forcing an air of nonchalance—you don’t want Curtis to think you had been crying, even if it was just from nausea.

“Are you OK?” It was Yuna’s voice coming through the door.

Eyes dropping a little, you pulled opened the door, “yeah, just nature calling. What’s up?”

Yuna raised the same wrinkled notebook page, pointing at the pencil-colored steel drawers.

“Yes we’ve been through this—“ Yuna pushed the paper closer to you, forcing you to take a closer look. There were shallow indents on the page, remnants of your notes when you made your way down the train.

Oh god. You panicked as you scrambled to remember what you might have written on those pages.

“Yuna, listen—“

“Guys, c’mon, we are moving onto the next section.” Tanya called out.

You nodded in her direction, and looked down at Yuna, “we’ll revisit this?” Yuna put the paper back into her pocket and followed you to join the gang.

As the two of you approached, Curtis tried to find your eyes. He wished he could say that he didn’t mean what he said, but he knew you saw the truth behind the hot-blooded words. Years of oppression had created a beast within him, and it was easy to hate the front-sectioners when they were faceless beings living in his head, or the pompous Mason. But now...

To be honest he had stopped thinking of you as a front-sectioner since well before your passionate evening together. Which makes it all the more frustrating when you chose to remind him of the undeniable fact, stirring awake the beast he thought he had put to sleep. He knows it’s not your fault—you were barely out of school when you boarded the train. And it is terribly difficult for him to imagine the courage it took for you to side with him against your family and friends—goodness he had never thought about that before. Do you still have family in the front--

His train of thought came to a grinding halt as you walked past him, determined not to look at him. Curtis felt his brows furrow further, and jerking the chain, pulled Mason forward.

“Curtis my friend, could we dispense with the chains for the next section?”

“Why?” A half-distracted answer from Curtis as he watched you push the door open with Namgoong and Grey, heading into the freezer section.

“Well, for the sake of the young, the children--“ Mason was barely finished with her sentence when you walked over, taking off your overcoat and draping it over her cuffs.

”What do you think you’re doing?“ Curtis didn’t sound too pleased.

“It’s the school section next,” you said as you strode to the front of the procession again, “kids shouldn’t be a part of this.”

The silence game between you and Curtis continued throughout the freezer section please, you walking at the front, him trailing in the back with Mason. You started fidgeting as you walked past the racks of beef and frozen chickens—maybe giving Mason your coat wasn’t such a great idea. But you were not going to give Curtis the satisfaction, so you did the only thing you could do, walk faster.

“Hey, spoiled lady, wanna slow the fuck down?” Namgoong never actually learned your name, which doesn’t really make a difference to your really...

“Sorry, I’m just not very good with cold.” You said as you slowed your steps until you were in the same footing as the disheveled security specialist.

“Then you’re fucked in this world.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “yeah guess I am...” Then you remembered something, “Why does the Yekaterina Bridge mean so much to you?”

“What?”

“I saw you looking for something through the windows when everyone was hanging on for dear life. Must have been pretty important to you...”

A moment of silence as Namgoong stopped his steps. You kept your eyes on him, waiting for an answer. He let out a sigh, raising a hand, “you wanna swipe your implant to open the door, or should I?”

You turned your head—and see the door at the end of the section.

When the rest of the company finally caught up to you and Namgoong, Curtis noticed your fidgeting hands as they raised up to unlock the door, the fingertips showing just a tiny hint for blue. With Mason in tow, he strode up to you, taking your hand before you could retract it.

“Wh—“

“You’re freezing,” Curtis said as the lively noise of children hit you like a heatwave. Bright colors assaulted your eyes and saccharin songs flowed through the concrete doors.

“I’m fine,” you replied, your hand twitching within his grasp, but not quite withdrawing it.

“Look, I feel like an asshole for earlier...” Curtis took a pause as the rest of the company shuffled past into the school section. A pregnant lady led the children in chorus as an educational, semi-propaganda introduction of the train was blaring on the TV at the moment. Thank god you were too old for this when you first boarded.

When it was once again just the two of you hovering at the entrance, Curtis continued, “Here take my coat—” He moved to shrug off his tattered coat, but you stopped him.

“Sure this front-sectioner has had enough taste of her own medicine?”

“C’mon, I don’t think of you as a front—“

That’s not exactly what you were hoping to hear.

“But I am one,” you said as you pulled your hand free, his fingers leaving visible prints on yours, “and up to a month ago, everyone in my life is one too.”

”But now you’re with us—”

“There should be no ‘us’ or ‘them’, that’s kind of the point of all this jazz, Curtis.”

Curtis just blinked at you. You could see the idea behind your words not quite computing within his mind, a mind that had always lived in the darker part of a dichotomy. And a part of your resolution melted away.

“Let’s do this another time,” You laid one hand on his, urging him to put his coat back on.

“Sure you’re ok without the coat?”

“I’ll survive. My blood is still raging hot from our fight earlier.” Curtis was a little bummed at your joking dismissal of his concern, but he knew there was no use pushing you.

“Children, let’s say hello to our guests from the tail section...” To her credit, the pregnant teacher kept her countenance as she took in the group of torn coats and ragged shoes filing past her, Tanya and Andrew getting their grease-stained fingers on a student’s face every once in a while when they thought he resembled their sons.

“Today is the first day of the new year, so we have a special little treat,” the teacher said as a well-dressed, clean-shaven Gerald walked in, to everyone’s surprise.

Amidst murmurs of “Is that Gerald?”, your eyes glazed over, thinking about his wife back in the tail section and her broken hand. And your resolution crumbled further—surely the train could have made room for one more violinist? A cloudy silhouette of the previous violinist took form in front of your eyes—was she the first chair of the Viennese Philharmonic? You couldn’t quite recall, except for the fact that she played at the weekly fete.

You were so lost in thought, and music, to have noticed Egghead walking down the aisle, handing each child a New Year’s celebratory egg.

And then, came the most traumatic three minutes of your life.

Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface

#curtis everett #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfic

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jocazep · 4 years ago

Text

In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 10

Author’s notes: Hi, remember me? Sorry about the six-month hiatus, but I’m back at it! And it gon’ get dark (even more so than before), so this is just me laying in the groundworks early... ENJOY~

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Taglist: Now closed

Series Masterlist

Chapter 10 - Trading Secrets

Curtis couldn’t remember the last time he slept so well--it must have been before the train. There were no dreams, there were no nightmares, just deep, post-climax slumber as if the world around him has melted away--until the alarm blaring “oh-seven-hundred-hours” yanked him out.

He jumped up, but had to take a second before realizing where he was, as the rest of the revolters joined him, stirring awake and confused--the world outside was pitch dark.

“We’re traveling against time zones” Your voice sounded from behind--Curtis turned to see you walking up with a cup of hot water in hand, ”C’mon, need to make some arrangements before we push on.”

“Good morning to you, too.” He took your extended hand, stood up, and pulled you in for a quick kiss. You didn’t kiss back. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh nothing. Gilliam is looking for us is all.”

The truth of the matter is a little bit more complicated than that.

You woke up early. As a medical apprentice, you used to do that before you had important appointments, as it would clear your head and prepare for your day, but today you found no such effect.

Your eyes fixated on Curtis as he lay next to you, breathing in and out, but your head was a million miles away. What was last night? Was it just two people seeking solace in each other after the death of a mutual friend? Or was it the culmination of all those little touches and stolen glances and shared silences? Did it mean anything to him? More importantly, did it mean anything to you?

But then Mason entered your mind in stealth, slowly gnawing away in the back of your head, until you couldn’t focus on the inner debate between your commitment to your father vs. your--your what? Your responsibility? Your debt?--whatever it is you owe to the revolt.

So you push yourself up, and padded barefoot towards where Mason was being held captive.

“It’s about time.” Her unmistakable accent greeted you before your eyes could find her, “ah is that water?”

You didn’t respond, but dipped the mug in your hand lower so she could suck a mouthful of the liquid before you rescinded it.

“Any chance you can spare some food as well, my dear?”

“Not unless you want the fish they gutted before the fight.” You sat down next to Mason, and silence fell for a second.

“Well, I suppose we should make a de--”

“When did he send you to the tail section?”

“Excuse me?”

“I said how old were you when my father first sent you to the tail sections?”

“I must have been around...well, your age.“

“You don’t know how old I am.”

“You, Joanna Catherine Watt Wilford, are thirty-two years and some three odd months old.”

You stare at Mason in astonishment.

“I’ve seen your birth certificate. There was a time when Mr. Wilford thought about giving you to a foster family... After your mother passed away of course...” Mason took a pause, “But I thought you are here to warn me--”

“I am.” You kept your eyes straight ahead, “This is just my human interest story for the report.”

You tend to forget that for some people, there was a life before the train, since you had barely turned fifteen when your estranged father plucked you from the monotony of a privileged private school, into a monotony of the train.

But hey, at least you got to practice medicine and help people. Is that what I’m doing now?

“The report--that’s why I first went down there too, you know...He must see it as a rite of passage.” A smile threatens to break as Mason reminisced about her past.

“Was it..” You didn’t know how to phrase the question, but luckily Mason caught onto your train of thought.

“Oh dear, even more so. Mr. Wilford really turned it around. They were surviving on rats and vermin before the protein block assembly. When I first went down there... it’s as if all society had broken down. There was stories about this pregnant woman... And when they found out who I was, they chained me up and almost tore me to pieces. Imagine what they would do to you. ”

You had heard enough, “All right, here’s the deal. I keep you alive, you keep your mouth shut about me. Sound good?”

Mason nodded enthusiastically as you stood up to leave. “Just one more thing, what does Mr. Wilford want with Curtis?”

You did not look back, “Ask another wrong question, and my father will hear about it.”

Mason all but clasped her hands onto her mouth.

You were planning to sneak back and lay your head on Curtis’ chest, relive the little escape you two had before the day had to begin, but today luck just wasn’t on your side. As your turned the corner back into the makeshift dorm, soft crying and sniffling caught your attention.

It was Tanya. By the dim moonlight reflected from the snow, you could see her clutching a piece of paper and wiping tears from her face. By the time you realized it was the charcoal drawing of Timmy she was holding, it was too late to turn back.

Noticing the light shift, Tanya sat up and look at the person standing a few feet from her. You didn’t know what to do for a moment. You two haven’t been alone since you came clean about Timmy. In a letter no less, you coward.

“I didn’t mean to--”

Tanya lay back down and closed her eyes.

What was the rest of your sentence anyway? You asked yourself as you padded towards the infirmary section, sleep now the last thing on your mind. Didn’t mean to pry? Didn’t man to take Timmy? Didn’t mean to get so close to Curtis and the revolt?

You were pulled from the reverie by Yuna’s hand tugging your sleeve. Around you, the men were deep in discussion, figuring out how many people to station at each section.

Yuna slipped you a piece of paper torn from the small notebook you gifted her. On it she had drawn a picture of herself and Namgoong in the prison section, the many drawers colored dark and ominous. Yuna pointed to the drawers.

“It’s a little advanced for you but ok,” you took the pencil from her and spelled out the word prison, “Prison, it’s a place to hold people that have broken the law.”

Yuna didn’t seem to like that word. She wrestled the paper from you, pointed to the drawers again, and looked at you, waiting for a response.

“Jo?” You whipped your head back to the much less mystifying, but much more important meeting.

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

Curtis gave you an update, “Gilliam will stay behind, with 50 men stationed in the water section, then 15 men at each other section before our base,” Base is what you called the tail section now, “Grey will stay with Gilliam as well.”

“Nonsense, Grey will be much more useful to you than me.”

You shot a look at Gilliam as he chimed in, wondering if he really meant it.

“I think Grey should stay too. We are already a large pack as it is--”

“Don’t forget, Jo, we’re going ahead to take the engine,” Gilliam gave you a long look, “who knows what you will find there”.

Right. You bit your tongue and didn’t argue any further. Let’s never forget

“We were trying to decide what we should do about Mason.” Namgoong picked up the thread of discussion, “What do you think?”

“She’s injured, will only slow us down.” Grey’s voice was very quiet.

“I would rather keep her close than let her stay with the captured soldiers. Who knows what she’ll get them up to.”

“That’s fair, I can’t possibly keep an eye on her the whole time,” Gilliam agreed.

“Tanya’s doing a great job watching her.” *So that’s why she’s not in the meeting.*

“She didn’t want to come with us?”

“Of course she did, but--”

“I think Jo’s saying Tanya should go with you.”

The discussion wrapped up quickly after that, as dusk was threatening to break over the horizon. Your partners in crime stood up and went off--there were bags to pack, arrangements to make, and farewells to say.

You dragged your feet, hoping to spend a few minutes with Gilliam before setting off.

“Having doubts, dear?” Gilliam clicked by on his crutch.

“Before I first came down--”

“Perhaps it’s best you don’t tell me exactly what Wilford asked of you.” Sometimes you wish you had his ability to see right through everything.

“You don’t want to know?”

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t,” Gilliam chuckled, “But I’ve feigned ignorance too many times, even for someone my age. I’d like this occasion to be real.”

“Then...can I ask how much you know?”

“As far as I know, the revolt should have served its purpose after the water supply section.”

You nodded, “Do you ever ask yourself, why he always landed on culling?”

“It wasn’t just him, my dear.”

For the second time that day, you stared in astonishment.

“Perhaps you’re the only person with whom I can share this secret.” There were mini explosions happening in your head as Gilliam spoke, “No past revolt has gotten past the water section. Sometimes it was disorganization, sometimes it was survival instincts, sometimes just plain human greed. But every time, the necessary culling would take place, and the tail section would treasure its existence that was magnanimously gifted by Wilford.”

“Why did they settle?”

“The very first revolts that took place, was only six months into the train journey. Curtis was a little past seventeen, completely unaware, and Edgar, god rest his soul, was just a baby. The leader, he rallied enough people to fight. But every battle cost heavily on his side. Byt the time he got to the prison section, there were only a handful of adult men left. And Mason, who was also a surveyor at the time, managed to entice him with promises of a better life. He held out for a while, but eventually he chose the devil he knew.”

“Your point being?"

"My point being, there's only so much you can do at one given time. Learn to pick your battles."

---

You left Gilliam soon after, head still reeling from the secrets he confided, wondering if he ever regretted his past decisions.

“Hey...” Curtis snuck up on you, taking your hand. You jumped slightly, taken out of your trance. “Do you realize this will be the last time we’re alone for a while?”

“Yeah...?”

He pulled you into him, and caught your lips in a long kiss. You both stumble towards the steel walls of the train, eventually settling in a nook. Curtis dipped his tongue past your teeth, tangling with your tongue, one of his knee wedging between your legs, bringing back heated vignettes of last night. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hips bucking against his thigh, your belly bumping up against his increasing hardness.

Curtis eventually lifts his lips from you, allowing you to breathe, while he latches onto the side of your neck. His hand roams up your belly, kneading your breasts, squeezing your side--

“Ow!”

“Shit, sorry,” Hard pause as he remembers your injury, “Is it getting better?”

“No, but I’ll live,” you answered, breathless, “when we get to the health section I’ll take a closer look.”

Curtis rest his head against yours, gulping for air, “This is your injury number three, huh?”

“Yeah, you are bad news for me.”

From the front of the section, someone called out, “Curtis, Jo, we’re doing the portrait!”

“You gonna be okay there?” You eyed his bulge.

“Yeah, just gimme a minute...”

The portrait took longer than you expected. While Painter took down your likeness in charcoal, Andrew was playing with the now captive Mason, asserting his newly-earned dominance over this once proud magistrate.

“I was hoping to talk about it earlier.” Curtis said out of the corner of his mouth as you all stood, eight half-frozen figures.

“I...enjoyed it?” You said, tongue in cheek, “Would recommend to a friend.”

“Funny,” Curtis couldn’t help the smile creeping onto his face, “But seriously...”

“I mean...” You looked up at him, “If we both survive when this is all over...”

You were joking but the words hit home for Curtis, as he remembered Edgar. Will you both come out of this alive? He had always considered himself as someone with nothing to lose, but now...

You turned away as you noticed Curtis staring into the distance. Gilliam was standing in the front of the crowd that would stay behind, looking at you with his signature elderly smile, and something else just behind the glasses, a mutual understanding that this is truly farewell.

You found yourself running his words again and again in your head.

“The leader asked for running water, and a stable food supply. Wilford agreed, but asked the leader to help him maintain the balance in the tail section whenever necessary. A few months later, the protein blocks started coming in, a washroom was unlocked, and my secret phone compartment was installed.”

Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface

#curtis everett #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #Snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfic

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jocazep · 5 years ago

Text

In The Whole Wide Train | Chapter 9

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Author’s notes: Smut in this chapter! My first smut so please be gentle LOL.

Taglist: Now Closed

Series Masterlist

Chapter Nine - Washing Up

“Do you know if we got any soap for trading?” Edgar asked Curtis as they stood outside Gilliam’s quarters, waiting for Jo to finish her meeting with Gilliam. Around them, the dimly lit tail-section buzzed on with ordinary routines and shenanigans.

“Why? Are you taking after Jo’s habit?”

“Oh, oh no... Just, I thought it’d be nice to give her a welcome gift...” Edgar’s voice traced off.

Curtis scratched his head through the beanie. “Yeah check with the back lot, I think the going rate is three protein blocks for a half-bar.”

“That’s stiff man. I only have a third of a block. What’d ya reckon I can get for that?”

The rhythmic clicking of the train cut through Curtis’ reverie. He focused his eyes back to the present. They had won. Mason was still locked in his chock hold, Grey had more or less subdued Franco Sr, and Franco Jr. had dropped the knife from his hand.

But as Curtis took in the brutal consequences of the victory, his eyes found you hunched over Edgar who was lying prostrate on his back. You had both your hands on Edgar’s side, desperately trying to stop the bleeding with pressure. But foamy blood was gushing out, staining your hands, your face, and your clothes in an alarming scarlet.

Curtis didn’t need to look at Edgar to know that there was no saving him. He knew he had to carry the heavy burden of Edgar’s life on his shoulders the moment he chose to go after Mason. But you...you still hadn’t accepted it.

Wiping your face with the back of your hand, you whisper to Edgar as you tightened his overcoat around the wound and began to perform CPR.

“Stay with me, Edgar, stay with me. It’s ok. It’s ok.”

You thought back to Doris. To Timmy. To Andrew. To Yuna. But you pushed all thoughts from your mind but one--he’s not dying on your watch.

Curtis could hear your voice breaking, and it was all he could do to keep himself from wrapping you in his arms. But he looked back at the section in the wake of battle, and gritting his teeth, walked on to tend to the latest POWs.

You were running on autopilot. Pumping Edgar’s chest and breathing into his mouth, as if doing so would transport some of your life force into him. It wasn’t until Gilliam ambled up next to you, and placed his hand on your blood-drenched hands, that your brain began to process it all.

Your hands stopped, still quivering. You held your breath as well, forcing the visceral pain down with the pocket of air in your lungs. You were scared that if you breathed out, you would break and there would be no putting you back together. And you couldn’t afford that.

But there was nothing to say. His own hand trembling, Gilliam took your hand and guided you to close Edgar’s lifeless eyes. Sometime later, Curtis finished chaining up the POWs, and stumbled back to you and Edgar. A thump as his knees hit the floor next to you, his mind equally numb with pain. Taking heavy breaths, he pulls off his beanie, a last salute to his closest friend.

“Survivors, wash yourselves,” Gilliam’s voice came out strained, and raspy as usual, but it jolted you back to the present. As Curtis gulped back tears, he watched you stagger to your feet, hand and face caked in dry blood.

“The water supply section. Wash away the blood.“

The hours flew by as you lost yourself in cleaning and treating the wounded revolters, letting the rush of triage flood your mind and drown out the whatever pain, guilt, and self-doubt marinating inside your head.

Meanwhile, Curtis found himself chaining Mason to a water pipe in the furnace room, his rage slowly finding its way back after the grief and pain started wearing off.

“It’s Wilford you want, not me!” Mason was practically another person the minute she felt steel against her skin.

“Call him, see if he’ll come save you.“ Curtis heard himself say. It was a different kind of rage within him, calmer, surer, more deliberate, “We’ll rip you into pieces, he still won’t come?”

“He won’t leave his engine.”

“Well we control the water. We turn that off, he’ll have to come.”

“Turn off the water? Well you’ll only be condemning your own people. The water comes from front.” Mason’s eyes glimmered, finding a last shred of hope in the information she possessed.

“The nose of the train, it breaks up the snow and ice, and turns it into water!”

Curtis felt his confidence slipping. As Mason droned on about the front of the train being an elephant’s trunk, he turned to Tanya and whispered, “get Jo.“

When your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness of the furnace room, you saw Curtis holding a knife to Mason’s neck.

“Curtis!” You rushed over and placed your hand on the blade, afraid that Curtis might kill Mason in the heat of fury.

“You keep his name out of your mouth, or you can fucking die.” Curtis was almost too angry to hear you.

“Curtis! Stop it!” Your hand pulled on the blade harder.

Mason’s eyes shifted from Curtis to you, regarding you and turned back to Curtis.

“Just as hot blooded as they say you are.”

You felt Curtis’ hand waver as he took in Mason’s remark, and slowly drew the knife from his grasp.

“Yes, we know you well, mister Curtis Everett. And you, Jo--”

You level the blade back to Mason’s neck.

“I can help you! I can help you! Wilford is not coming, you’ll have to go to the front, and I can take you! I can guarantee you safe passage!”

“You would betray your benevolent Wilford?“ You stared down at Mason, who held your gaze for a beat. A silent negotiation taking place between the two of you.

“I know the train. I know things you don’t.”

“Why the fuck would we trust you?” Curtis interjected. He still thought this was about the revolt.

“Because I want to live.”

You were dumbfounded by the sheer cheek of her. Was this really the same Mason that you knew before all this started?

The room was equally quiet. Who doesn’t want to live?

---

Night fell soon after. Things quieted down as both revolters and the invisible front-sectioners retired for the night.

Curtis and Gilliam arranged for patrols to guard the water section, and joined the revolters in the section that hours ago was an inferno of blood and fire. They were discussing whether to push ahead when Curtis realized that you were missing.

“Have you seen Jo?”

Gilliam shrugged, “I suppose she’s still in the water section, tending to the wounded. She’s taken it quite hard, after Edgar.”

Curtis found you sitting next to Edgar in the water section, hugging your knees close to your chest. You thought after all that you’ve been through, you would be too tired to feel, but you were wrong. You were feeling all right. There was a throbbing pain running along your right side, but you no longer cared.

You were too busy hating yourself. You hated yourself for not being able to save Edgar. You hated yourself for letting Mason talk you into sparing her life. You hated yourself for doing the math and deciding to put a wall around your grief instead of dealing with it. You hated that your eyes were completely dry.

“Hey...” Curtis squatted down next to you, his voice low and careful.

You turned your head from Curtis, and pushed yourself up. “I’m fine. I just need to, uh..., check on Bertie, he’s wounded pretty bad--”

“Jo.” Curtis caught up with you, his broad shoulders blocking your escape route. For the first time since the fight, he had a good look at you, and quickly realized that your clothes were covered in blood stains, some scarlet, others turning brown.

“Curtis, seriously I’ve gotta--”

“It’s OK. I’m here.”

You look up at him. “What?”

“I’m here.” Curtis wrapped his arms around you, and rested his chin on your head. “It’s OK.” His voice reverberated through his chest, slowly thawing the fragile barrier you put up. But it somehow felt safer, warmer, and you closed your eyes.

And the tears finally came.

When you were eventually all cried out, Curtis cupped your head in his hand, and murmured, “Let’s get you washed up.”

You nodded against his chest, and let him lead you towards the showers. The communal space was empty as everyone else had taken their wash already. After showing you how the water worked, Curtis left to wait outside, but soon a pained gasp from you sent him running back in.

“What is it?” Curtis found you mid-motion, trying to remove your blood-soaked coat.

“I think I cracked a rib...I can’t lift my right arm...”

No further explanation was needed. “Turn around.”

You did, and Curtis peeled off the coat, the water running in the shower the only sound echoing within the otherwise empty space.

Your silk shirt was next. What am I doing? You thought to yourself, but caught in the trance, you unbuttoned the front, and Curtis gingerly slid it off you, revealing the fading bruise from the guard’s rifle butt that now seemed a million years ago.

“Does it still hurt?” His voice was raspy and made you very self-conscious in your underwear and jeans.

“Not as bad as it did before.” You replied, keeping your voice as you could manage, fully aware of the tension between you.

Curtis shifted his eyes to your jeans. “Can you...”

You tried reaching down, but the blinding pain pierced into your right side, making you gasp as your legs wobbled. Curtis stepped up behind you, catching you by the arms and steadied the two of you, now standing unsustainably close to each other.

The room was getting foggy with the hot water running. You could hear Curtis swallow before he spoke, “Careful.” His breath swept past the back of your very naked neck, sending your stomach into knots.

He lifted his hands away from your arms to hover near your hips, but not quite touching you. You could feel the warmth radiating from his hands as you ached for more of his touch.

There was nothing Curtis wanted more than to pull these pants off of you and run his hands over every inch of your body. But he waited, his hands determined not to touch you until you gave a signal of what you wanted.

“What?” You willed yourself not to turn around.

“Are you sure about this?”

There was no reply. Instead, you took Curtis’s right hand in yours, and guided him to pop open the button on your jeans. That was all the signal Curtis needed. His warm hands ran down your hips, pulling your soiled jeans down, his fingers grazing your skin all the way down to your ankles.

You could feel the tension pooling at your core as you lifted one foot out of your crumpled jeans, and with the other foot, flicked them aside.

Curtis felt his hardness increasing as he straightened himself up half way, and traced his fingers lightly around the faded bruise on your back. You gasped out of surprise and pleasure as you felt his fingers trace upwards along your spine, ending up on your shoulder, where they were replaced by his lips.

You tilted your head, feeling the friction of his beard along the crook of your neck, light moans escaping your mouth, your uninjured arm reaching up to push off his beanie and run your fingers along his buzzed hair. Curtis’s hands were equally busy, flinging off his coat into a pile of grey and black on the floor.

You turned around to watch as he finally discarded his many layers of old sweaters and shirts, his muscled chest heaving, his toned arms pulling off his pants, and oh god--that bulge in his boxers. It was positively throbbing as you laid eyes on it.

“Hello.” You couldn’t help the wise-ass inside you as you took one step. Then another, and another, slowly closing the distance, watching Curtis’ eyes grow darker with lust, feeling your own heart pounding until you were close enough to notice the tiny specks of gold scattered in his sea-grey eyes.

Curtis reached down, capturing your lips in a fiery kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as his arms wrapped around your figure, pressing you close to his body, his cock hard against you. You turn into putty in his arms, hanging on by your left arm hooked around his neck as your right arm roamed his stomach, exploring his abs by drawing circles around, making his erectness pulse inside the thin fabric. But as you reached down, Curtis stopped you.

“Not yet, baby.“

One hand holding you tight by the waist, and the other one cupped on your left breast, he walked the two of you towards the shower, until your back made contact with the moist wall of tiles. The coolness of the tiles, in stark contrast with the warmth from Curtis made for a strange yet wonderful sensation. Thank god for the running water, or your wetness would be quite noticeable as it soaked through your panties.

Curtis broke off the kiss, and trailed his lips down, past your heaving breasts, down your stomach, before resting his face between your legs.

“What are you--Ooooooh Curtis...” Your voice echoed loudly in the shower room as he ran his thumb across your core, pressing it into your clit. You look down to see the most imperceptible smile on his face as he slid your underwear off and lifted your right leg onto his shoulder.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his tongue met your dripping pussy, lapping up your juices as he sucked, sending you waves of ecstasy as his tongue explored your core.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Curtis all but commanded. And you were eager to comply as your hips rocked in tandem with his strokes, moans of pleasure tumbling out of your mouth as Curtis added his fingers to his attack, rubbing and pushing your sensitive lips. Your walls tightened as you felt Curtis’s tongue enter, and your hands flailed for balance as your knees buckled at the new high, before Curtis snaked his free arm up, grabbing your breast and steadying you against the moist tiles while his tongue and finger worked together to send your juices flowing.

“Curtis I’m gonna come--“

“You like that, baby?” he hummed into you. You nodded and squirmed as you felt your climax approaching, pressing your hips into his face.

“Yes, Curtis, just like that, I’m gonna come---” The wave of high washed over your entire body, your hips shaking and your pussy clenching as Curtis quickening his pace through your climax.

It was all you could do not to collapse as you came down from your orgasm. Curtis stood up, and you grabbed his face to catch his mouth in a sloppy wet kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as the running water soaked both of you, washing away your fatigue. As the two of you entwined, you pushed off his boxers, and took in his girth. There’s nothing you wanted more than for it to fill you and make you come again.

“Fuck, Jo.” Curtis breathed out as you finally took his shaft into your hands, stroking it despite of its hardness. You tried to bend down and return the favor, but the sharp pain in your side screamed in protest.

“It’s OK, it’s OK baby,” Curtis helped you back up, and stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, his right hand cupping your breast, and his left raising two fingers near your mouth, “Just suck on these for me.“

You held out your tongue, slobbering his fingers in your mouth before sucking and pulling away with a faint pop.

“That’s so hot,” Curtis whispered against your ear as his right thumb played with your hardened nipple, and his shaft rubbed against your wetness, making you moan and squirm in his hold.

“Are you ready?” Curtis lined the head of his cock at your entrance. You nodded, your entire body yearning for him to be inside you.

And what a sensation that was. Both of you groaned as Curtis’s cock pushed inside you. Curtis could feel your walls tight and warm around his cock, jerking him off. The strokes were slow and deliberate at first, each one going deep into you from behind, making you call out Curtis’s name in pleasure. The water, mixed with your juices, mixed with Curtis’s precum, ran down your legs as the rhythmic echoes filled the room.

Soon you felt the coil in your stomach building as Curtis picked up the pace, sending ripples in your body as he pounded into you. Mesmerized by the moaning figure in front of him, Curtis felt your pussy tighten around him, and gritted his teeth in concentration. It’s been a while, a long while since he’s had any sex, so he’s really sensitive, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get this right. He wrapped one arm around, capturing your clit between two fingers, while his other arm held you closer to him.

“Oh go--You’re gonna make me come if you keep--“ You all but cried out as he rubbed your clit, his lips latching onto your ears and neck, his cock drilling into you.

“Come with me, baby.“ Curtis’s breathing became labored as well, as his own pleasure began to crescendo. He walked the two of you into the tiled wall, your back arched, your breast against the wetness, your hips clasped in Curtis’s hands.

“Like that, just like that, Curtis.” You felt your pussy twitching as his wet cock slid in and out of you, quicker and quicker, each stroke hitting your sweet spot. Curtis laid his head on your shoulder, his own moaning mixing with yours as you pushed your left hand against the wall for balance.

“Baby I’m close.“ He entwined his fingers with yours, his right hand returning to your swollen clit as he picked up the speed “I want to you come with me. Can you come with me?”

“Yes...Yes! Curtis, yes!“ You feel waves of pleasure shooting through you as he buried his face in your neck, his dick stretching your walls, his fingers taking your clit to the limit. You could hold on no longer--your legs started shaking, your pussy clenched down on his cock, and your entire body shook as the orgasm came crashing down on you, taking Curtis right over the limit as well.

As his cock twitched inside you, he caught your lips and kissed you deeply, both of you catching your breath. The warm water raining down on you as you lingered on this fading ecstasy, trying to make it last before returning to the cruel world beyond.

---

After you eventually did the actual washing up and got dressed again--Curtis had to go back to the Protein Block section to borrow Paul’s clothes again, since your own clothes were practically soaked in blood--the two of you tiptoed back to your sleeping spots.

Lying on his coat, with your head cushioned on his chest, Curtis remembered snippets of his conversation with Gilliam: “It’s much better to hold a woman with two arms, don’t you think?” But this really wasn't just any woman, was it. This was you. He looked down at you and held you tighter. You didn't look up--she must have drifted off, Curtis thought as he buried his nose in your hair and stole a quick kiss.

You, however, were quite awake. After Curtis's breath evened, and his heartbeat slowed down, you looked up at the sleeping man, tracing his long-lashed-eyes, his well-defined nose, and his soft-pillow lips with your gaze. An entirely different conversation was haunting you:

“When the time comes, don’t let anyone stand in your way, not the tail-sectioners, not Gilliam, not even Mason. You’ve gotta learn to make some difficult decisions, my child,” Wilford looked at you with his piercing blue eyes, “for one day this train will be yours to run.”

Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface

#curtis everett #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett x reader #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #Snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfic

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jocazep · 5 years ago

Text

In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 8

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Taglist: Now closed

Series Masterlist

Chapter Eight - Catching Fire

The sight of the black soldiers, for lack of a better word, stunned the revolters into a eerie silence.

Before you could react, Curtis pulled you and Yuna behind him, his hand finding yours and clutching it. He could hear his own heart beating. Not only that, he could hear your heart beating as he stepped in front of you.

You looked back, and the revolters were all tense like never before. Everyone had the same look in their eyes. A look of fear, excitement, staring into the unknown.

This is it. This is the big one. This is where some of you die.

“Jo, take Yuna.” Curtis turned to you, whispering urgently as the soldiers lined up.

“Let me help, I can fight--” you started to say, but there was no arguing with Curtis. He cupped your face with his free hand, and stopped your protest with a quick but deep kiss, a soldier-going-off-to-war kind of kiss.

“Take care of Yuna and Tanya for me.”

“Just ’til you’re done with this. Then they’re your responsibility again.”

“Deal.” Curtis gave your hand another squeeze before he let you go.

You took Yuna and led her to the back, pushing past revolter men assembling around Curtis.

You came across Edgar, who probably saw your kiss with Curtis, and was now probably fidgeting in his boots out of fear. But he put on a weak smile at you, and said, “It’s all right, Jo. It’s all right.”

No it won’t be, you thought. But you force yourself to nod and went on.

Behind you, Edgar joined Curtis at the head of the revolters, and they started walking up towards the black soldiers. The sunshine came in through the windows, even stronger than Curtis remembered as it bounced off from the snow outside.

One soldier passed up a fresh tail of fish to the leader, who pierced it with his hatchet. The stark red blood dripped down from the fish, tainting the cold metal.

Curtis and Edgar watched this bizarre ritual, half marveling at the fish--which they hadn’t seen in almost 18 years, half preparing themselves for the battle up ahead.

“Be careful.“ Curtis said to Edgar, his eyes never breaking from the leader of the soldiers.

“Yeah, you too.” Edgar answered back.

In the back of the Protein Section, you stood on the steps of the cauldron ladder and watched the fish being passed down the seemingly endless rows of soldiers.

“What’s happening?” Gilliam asked from beneath you.

There were no words to describe the palpable tension on both sides. “It’s starting” was all you could say.

No sooner had you said the words than the two sides finally clashed. The disorienting yells from men, the sickening sound of metal cutting through flesh, the deadly thud of bodies falling onto the floor flooded the space.

You strained to pick out Curtis and Edgar in the writhing mass of blood and violence, watching as Curtis cut through soldier after soldier, splattering blood on the windows as he pushed forward. The sound of chaos faded away, and all you could see was Curtis. Your stomach turning each time he came across a foe, your breath returning each time he overcame one.

Curtis was also lost in the rhythm of violence, his early days of chaos returning to him, when all of a sudden--he stepped on the sacrificial fish, and fell on his back.

An axe came crashing down, and in that split second, his entire life threatened to flash in front of his eyes. His 17 fuzzy years on Earth, his 17 hellish years on the train. But then your voice and Edgar’s broke through the mist: “Just ’til you’re done with this...”, “Yeah, you too...”

And Curtis jolted into action--he rolled onto his side as the axe hissed on its way down, narrowly missed the back of his neck. Before he could get back up, Edgar came crashing into the assailant, knocking the latter on the ground. Curtis lost no time--thwack, thwack--he buried the hatchet into the soldier twice as red hot blood sputtered into his face. No time to process. He pushed on with Edgar.

“We’re pushing forward.” You shouted down to Gilliam and Grey, when all of a sudden--

A blaring horn resonated across the two sections. You saw three train conductors beyond all the onslaught.

“Upcoming, Yekaterina Bridge!”

Here comes. Yekaterina Bridge, and the long tunnel afterwards. They need a torch. You clambered off the steps, and found Namgoong, pushing past the men, pulling Yuna behind him.

“Namgoong, I need your matches.“ You said in your broken Korean.

"What?” Namgoong kept moving. The revolters had made decent progress along the section, so you quickly found yourself crossing the threshold.

You grabbed Yuna’s arm and yanked, forcing Namgoong to stop. “Matches, now.”

Whatever he was trying to do, he must be in a hurry. As you forced him into an impasse, the soldiers were counting down from 10 to welcome the “new year“. And you could see the anxiety mounting in Namgoong’s eyes with each number counted.

“Fine, take it.” He chucked you the matchbook, and threw in a few other Korean words along--which you were sure were quite advanced expletives.

You let go of Yuna, and turned back towards the Protein Section. Behind you, you could hear the soldiers chanting “Happy New Year”.

“Grey!” you yelled, “Catch!”

The book of matches flew through the air as Grey ran up, and closed his fingers around it. He looked up at you, somewhat perplexed.

“Get a stick, wrap some cloth around it--”

“IMPAAAAAAAACT!”

The snowpiercer rammed through an ice block on the railroad. The momentum sent you flying forward, right into the heart of the fight.

But nobody was concerned about fighting anymore. Breaths were held, eyes were closed as everyone crouched low and prayed for the train to stay on the rails. Well, everyone except Namgoong and Yuna.

As you recovered from your fall, you saw the father and daughter stumbling towards a window, pressing their foreheads against the glass, looking for something below the mind-bogglingly high bridge.

Up front, Edgar also noticed. “Hey, Nam, what are you doing man! What are you doing! He’s high as a fucking kite.”

You looked towards the sound, and found Curtis and Edgar. They were seated close to the soldiers that moments ago were fighting them, but now all were hanging on for dear life.

You took this in, your father’s words resonating in your head again. What did he call it? The last sanctuary of humanity.

At that moment, it felt like one. However twisted, however artificially controlled, however problematic. This train was keeping everyone on it alive. If the train falls, everybody falls, front-sections, tail-sections, revolters, soldiers, even the great Wilford.

Two more gut-wrenching ice blockades later, the train finally roared onto solid ground again, as the conductor announced through his megaphone, “Safe passage!”

And just like that, the fighting resumed. Curtis grabbed a hatchet lying nearby, and parried a blow from the soldier sitting next to him. You followed suit as more men got to their feet, picking up a small axe to defend yourself.

That’s when you heard it. A voice you didn’t know you had missed.

“Happy Yekaterina Bridge, you filthy ingrates.”

It was Mason.

Curtis had heard all of Mason’s platitudes before, and had learned how to block them out. But this time, Mason said something else, something he’d never heard before, something that rocked him to his core.

“Precisely 78.4% of you shall die.”

What did it mean? Of course he understood the words literally, and the sheer arrogance behind it. But why would Mason say this? Why 78.4%? That sounded like an awfully calculated number, didn’t it?

Curtis felt his rage bubbling up as his mind raced with the horrible underlying truth behind Mason’s words, and without really understanding what he was doing, he raised the hatchet in his hand and threw it at Mason--

Clang! The Icing hammer stopped the hatchet from ever coming close to Mason--and holding the hammer was Franco Sr. accompanied by his younger brother Franco Jr. as usual.

You took your eyes from Curtis and Mason to outside the window--the tunnel should be coming up. One by one, the lights above your head started switching off, like a foreboding countdown of sorts. Then came the rustling sound of the black soldiers putting on night vision head gears. You start retreated towards the Protein Block section--

“Grey! How’s the torch coming?!”

You ran back into the dimly lit section, almost stumbling over Tanya as your eyes taking a moment to adjust. Curtis’s voice came from up ahead as darkness devoured the fighting section, “Everybody back!“

There were already a couple of impromptu torches made, as Grey and Tanya struggled to make more.

“Gimme one and light it.“ You couldn’t afford to waste time. Every second spent in the dark meant more revolters dying. With fidgeting hands you took up a torch, and Tanya struck the last remaining match in Namgoong’s matchbook.

For a moment the life and death of the revolt hung on a small metallic match. “Please catch, please catch, please catch...” you prayed with shallow breaths.

And then--the warmth of a burning flame engulfed you. Grey lost no time, grafting the fire to his torch and running into the darkness.

“Everyone grab a torch and light it with mine!” You held up your torch by the gate connecting the two sections, lighting each torch as revolters came running through one by one.

Before long, the section was lit a bright orange with the torches. And the revolters fought back. You ran into the section as well, looking for Namgoong and Yuna to make sure they were safe.

You found Yuna huddled in a nook, the metal panel originally concealing her knocked askew during the fight.

“Stay here, it’ll be all right.“ You tried to comfort her amidst the blood-curdling screams, and placed the panel back. It was only when you stood back up that you realized Franco Jr. had been watching you. Your hand tightened around the wooden handles of the torch.

A flicker of recognition showed on Franco Jr.’s face. As you pondered whether to fight him, another soldier came charging towards you, and Franco Jr. pushed you out of the way, and decked the soldier across the face.

Losing your balance, you staggered and fell on top of the slowly building pile of bodies. As Franco Jr. walked towards you, he extended a hand--

Wham! Edgar landed a slash across the back of Franco Jr. “You get off of her!“

“No!” was all you could get out before Franco Jr. made quick work of Edgar and had him in a chokehold, holding a long knife close to Edgar’s ribcage.

Up front, Curtis fought on, and with Grey coming to his aid, was quickly gaining the upper hand. Grey took the train conductor hostage, but Mason was unmoved. So he was the first of the front-sectioners to die. Then Grey took on Franco Sr. and when Mason tried to run, he managed to throw a blade at her, piercing her right leg.

Curtis was just about to hunt her down when he heard someone calling his name--

He turned to see you lying at the feet of Franco Jr., Edgar held in a chokehold.

He looked back at Mason--a female conductor was helping her limp towards the gate to the Water Section.

He looked back at you one more time. Franco Jr. yelled across the room, “Surrender!” Curtis couldn’t hear it, but he got the message loud and clear.

He had to choose. The life of his best friend. Or the biggest bargaining chip for the revolt.

He never thought it would be him making this choice. He never thought he would be making any choice. He was no leader. But nevertheless, here he was.

Your heart broke for him as you watched Curtis close his eyes, forming a determination. And your heart broke again for Edgar as he watched Curtis turn and give chase after Mason, as he made his own decision in turn and fought back against Franco Jr.

You tried to stop the suited mobster, pushing and pulling at him, but he shoved you off your feet, and foregoing whatever courtesy he had before, held you down with his foot on your chest. Brandishing his blade, he grabbed Edgar’s throat, turning him towards you.

The moment was scorched into your memory. Edgar held at knife point, you thrashing beneath Franco Jr.’s step. As your eyes met his fear-stricken eyes, you mouthed to Edgar the same words as before.

“It’s all right. It’s all right.”

The moment lasted a lifetime, and then your eyes blinked as the cold glint of metal flashed, and your cry was drowned in the sea of violence.

Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface

#curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett fanfic #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #Snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfic

27 notes · View notes

jocazep · 5 years ago

Text

In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 7

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Taglist: Open until March 20th

Series Masterlist

Chapter Seven - Changing Gear

You stared at your own reflection in the mirror, your chest heaving, your eyes still slightly red. Having just gotten most of the blood and sick off your hands and faces with furious scrubbing, you ran the back of your hand across your mouth to wipe off any remaining water. Your mind wandered back to when you first found yourself in this cramped bathroom, when you changed into these shabby clothes. You felt like a different person.

Well maybe not 100% different. Your eyes fell on the neatly folded pile of clothes on the counter. You decided it’s time to start changing gear.

You peeled off the dusty coat, the itchy sweater, and the short cargo pants. But your hands wavered as they came to the oversized shirt you were wearing--this was Curtis’s shirt. But then you decided better, and took it off as well. Now is not the time to dwell.

You could hear the bustling crowd of tail-sectioners outside the door. Well, technically they were tal-sectioners no more, given where you stood. Revolters then. Time to call them what they are. Namgoong eventually opened the first door just as you had finished patching up the wounded guard. As Curtis and the other revolters flooded into the guards’ quarters, you spotted Namgoong and Yuna snuffing their newly-earned Kronole blocks in a dark corner of the section--the train was going through a tunnel just then, and the normally bright space was as dimly-lit as the tail section.

When the light pierced through the windows, even you had to shield your eyes for a little bit. It was almost a completely novel thing to the revolters. But to be fair, living in a windowless steel tube for almost 18 years usually tends to have that effect on people. You would probably never forget the look on Curtis and Gilliam’s faces when they laid eyes on the frozen world whipping past.

“Still cold.“ Gilliam said with a hint of resignation. In your heart, you thought it would be foolish to expect anything different, but you didn’t say anything.

As the revolters marveled at the world outside, Curtis reminded everyone to push on. You dug out a small set of tools from the nose-breaker guard’s bunk--he had used them to maintain the cart and their “useless guns”--and supplied it to Namgoong, who quickly opened the next gate.

And here you were. The Protein Block Section. Another never-before-seen sight for the revolters as they witnessed their only sustenance roll off the conveyor belt, steaming hot.

A deep breath in as you fought off another wave of nausea at the thought of the protein blocks. The churning of the gigantic cauldron vibrated through the floor. You closed your eyes, only to reopen them almost immediately--the image of a million cockroaches tumbling around was still burned into your brain.

Half of you wished that you had taken up Paul’s offer to check out the cauldron before going down to the tail section. So you would have known better. So that you wouldn’t have been so utterly shaken when you saw it with Curtis and Painter, that you virtually fell off the last few steps of the ladder, cutting yourself on your way to the bathroom to throw up.

But only half of you. Because what could you have done? Chosen not to eat the protein blocks when you were in the tail section? Warned the revolters not to eat it, when there’s nothing else available to them as a substitute?

It’s moments like this that you found your conviction crumbling bit by bit. Is there really any hope for a system so deeply deeply problematic?

Shaking your head, you picked up your notebook, and flipped it to the last page you had written. The letter from Edgar fell out onto the sink. You picked it up and put it into your pocket.

Looking back to notebook, you took one last look at the notes taken from your time in the tail section. Resolution setting in your eyes, you ripped out the pages and flushed them down the toilet.

At the end of the day, that won’t completely be your call.

---

A loud bang as Curtis pushed Paul into the side of the gigantic cauldron.

“All this time we’ve been eating this shit.” Curtis was so furious that he didn’t notice the rest of the revolters having a free-for-all with the freshly made protein blocks. Nor did he notice Jo stepping out of the bathroom and observing his exchange with Paul close by.

“Hey, I eat them too, you know.” Paul didn’t really right back. In fact, he didn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong with eating protein blocks made of cockroaches, “Every single day.”

As Paul raised up his own chunk of protein block, something fell and clanked onto the floor.

Curtis scooped it up before realizing what it was--an empty bullet casing, same as the previous ones containing the red letters. Questions exploded in Curtis’s head. Why was he so trusting of these tiny red slips of paper before?

“Where did you get this? Have you been the one writing these?”

Paul didn’t really know what to say beyond “I don’t write them”, and a shrug.

“Why do you have this? Who gave this to you?” Each question Curtis asked ate away at his confidence in the revolt.

“Curtis, cut him some slack--”

He turned to see Jo stepping up. She had changed into presumably her own clothes--a grey tailored wool coat on top of a white silk shirt, and jeans that hugged her legs perfectly. And for a split second there, Curtis forgot what he was so anxious about.

But only just a split second.

Jo took the bullet casing, twisting it open, and shook out a small red scroll.

“There’s no way Paul knows who wrote these, and where they came from. I’m the surveyor and I don’t even know,” she said as she handed Curtis the small paper, “Here, why don’t you read it first.”

Curtis smoothed the paper out, and true to form, there was only one word written--water.

“Water supply section.” Gilliam was quick to realize the meaning behind this latest clue as Curtis convened with him.

“Yeah, it’s a few cars up,” Paul said, “it’s where the water is cleansed and recycled.”

Gilliam looked up at Paul, “It’s one of the most crucial sections on the train...”

“If we take it, we have the upper hand？” Finally a sense of direction returned to Curtis.

“We don’t even have to go to the front...” Gilliam mused, “We control the water, we control the negotiation.”

“Why don’t we ask Jo? She’s the one that actually knows the front section,“ Edgar chimed in. For once his suggestion was actually pretty good.

When Curtis and Edgar found Jo, she was squatting next to Yuna, trying to strike up a conversation with her.

“How long were you in the prison section?”

Yuna raised up seven digits. Holy shit, Curtis thought.

“Do you still remember your mother?” Jo asked gingerly.

Yuna shook her head.

Curtis found himself remembering a similar conversation he had with Edgar, suddenly feeling sorry for Yuna despite her Kronole addiction.

He stole a guilty glance at Edgar but realized that Edgar was looking at Jo with a longing in his eyes. Oh.

“Jo...” Edgar interrupted with the quietest voice Curtis had ever heard, “what do you know about the water section?”

---

One of the few memories you had of the water section didn’t come from your surveyor trip, but from your father.

“I just don’t understand your logic--” you were probably 16 at the time, so naturally you believed you had all the answers, “if the water section is where all our water supply is cleansed and distributed, isn’t this the most important section?”

Your father chuckled, “It’s not THE most important section, but sure.”

“Then why put it in the middle, not the front?” Edgar asked the same question you had before.

“It’s a buffer,” you said absent-mindedly, your father’s words echoing through you.

“There’re only so many sections to work with, and originally the train was designed specifically for luxurious globe-trotting travels. When we became the last sanctuary to humanity... well, let’s just say we needed some distance between the different strata of society.”

You more or less bought your father’s argument, as you were a member of the upper stratum.

“Those bastards.” Edgar, however, was put off by the answer. And rightly so, you thought as you watched Namgoong pull out the colorful wirings beneath the floor.

“But if we control the water section, the front will have to come to the table, right?” Curtis was ever thinking about the revolt, “We can cut of their water supply?”

Your eyes dodged around, “I think so.”

“Are you sure, Jo? This could end the fight once and for all.” Gilliam asked you, a meaningful gaze in his eyes.

Which is when you realized that Gilliam didn’t know everything you knew. But you played along for now.

“There’s only one way to find out. Even if we don’t force them to the table, we would at least control one more section. And if we do, all the better.”

You felt your chest tightening as you remembered the remainder of your conversation with your father, which you would never, ever share with the revolters.

“Do you know why we need the buffer?”

You shook your head.

“Because when the tail-sectioners eventually become too dissatisfied to contain, the buffers will buy us precious time.”

It sounded like an impossibility back then, but now you were living it.

“All right. Let’s get ready for the next section,” Curtis put an end to the discussion, and the crowd dispersed to whatever tasks they were given. Edgar got Namgoong his toolkit, Curtis lined up the revolters, and Tanya handed out additional weapons they found in the guard’s quarters. As for you, you pulled yourself from the reverie, and looked for Paul.

“Paul!” You called out to him as he dangled from a tube up high, turning what used to be an automatic valve. He had already decided not to join the revolters on their way to the front.

“Oh hey!” He hopped down, and wiped his greasy hands on his overalls nervously, “What are you doing with Curtis and them?”

He lowered his voice, “are you taken hostage?”

“No, no. I’m with them actually,” You couldn’t help but smile. Paul’s sweet. “I just wanted to return the clothes I borrowed.”

You handed him the neatly folded coat, sweater, and cargo pants. “Sorry I lost your shirt... I had to use it as bandage for one of the tail-sectioners.”

“Oh, that’s all right!” Paul took the clothes, stuffed them back into where he first took them out, and went back to his tinkering, humming happily.

You then went back to Yuna, who was sitting in the corner close by Namgoong, clutching the two Kronole cubes.

“Hey, Yuna, I got a gift for you.”

“Kronole?”

“Something better.” You took out your notebook and pencil, and handed it to her. Yuna’s eyes lit up as she accepted the gift.

“I will teach you to write whenever I can. But before that, you can draw. I know I only have a black pencil but--“

Suddenly, Yuna’s countenance shifted. She stuffed the notebook into her pocket, and crawled to the front gate, where Curtis, Edgar, and Tanya stood, waiting for the gate to open.

You caught up to her, “What’s wrong, Yuna?”

Yuna stared intensely at the steel gates, as if her eyes could penetrate and see the other side.

Behind you, Namgoong mumbled in Korean, “this should be it. You better have my Kronole ready.”

“Yuna, are you OK?” Curtis noticed the strange behavior and joined you.

Her eyes widened as she mumbled, “Don’t open it.”

Before you could understand what she meant, a crackle sounded as Namgoong finally connected the wires.

Black masks, black leather coat, black leather shoes. As the gates inched open, a brutal gang of thugs appeared in front of your eyes. The cold glint of sharp weapons danced across your faces ominously.

“Precious time to do what?” your 16-year-old voice was the only thing in your mind. That and the piercing blue eyes of your father as he gave you a straight answer.

“To nip the revolution in the bud, silly child.”

Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface

#curtis everett #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett x reader #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #Snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfic

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jocazep · 5 years ago

Text

In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 6

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Taglist: Open until further notice!

Series Masterlis

Chapter Six – Rushing Guards

The next two minutes were utter chaos. You watched in shock as Curtis punched out the nose-breaker, dumped the cart of protein bars onto the ground, and commandeered the steel cart.

Behind you, yells and hollers from the tail-sectioners resonated as they picked up the steel barrel tube, and started moving towards the gates, the head of the tube aimed straight for the steel cart.

A lightbulb set off in your head as you stepped out of the way. So that’s how he’s getting through three gates--someone pushed past you, almost knocking in off your feet. You staggered and turned to see the nose-breaker, having recovered a bit from Curtis’s punch, rushing towards the gate control panel.

Your eyes darted back to Curtis, the barrel tube making contact with the cart. Now’s not the time for half measures. You picked up the useless rifle lying at your feet, and aimed for the nose-breaker’s legs--

THUMP--he fell, his legs swept off the ground. But he was still going for it. So you hooked the belt of the rifle around his legs and hung on for dear life.

Curtis didn’t hear the fall of the guard, as he was pushing the cart into contact with the barrel tube, making mighty noises himself. The vibration was almost numbing his arms. It wasn’t until he had climbed on top of the barrel tube that he realized you were virtually straddling the guard.

“Jo, get on!” He extended his hand as the barrel started to move forward, a run-down mini-train within a train.

You did some quick math and shook your head. “Three gates in four seconds!” was all you managed to get across to him before the tube thundered past, taking Curtis beyond your field of vision.

Curtis zipped past gate after gate, his heart thumping in his throat. He could hear the revolt building behind him, as the sound of fists, feet, and blunt force trauma got closer and closer. Physical memories buried so deep within him started bubbling up, waking a side of him that had been asleep for almost eighteen years.

Instinct took over as Curtis jumped off the tube into the prison section. The prison guards, caught by surprise, were quickly dispensed with, as Edgar, Tanya, and several more joined Curtis in batting them. You tagged along, catching up with Curtis as you hopped off the tube.

But you had barely managed to catch your breath before a long shadow was cast across the room--it’s the giant you mentioned in your letter.

Everyone looked up, awestruck and terrified of the hulking beast of a man. Standing at nearly seven feet, the gigantic prison guard thundered near, whatever his fault in agility more than made up for by his sheer brute force, as he swung what looked like a steel weight at the lot of you.

“Careful!” You, Curtis, and everyone else tried to back away from the giant guard as quickly as you can, but in the confused shuffle, feet were stomped and movements were caught.

Before you could realized it, the steel weight was headed for your face. It was all you could do to throw up your arms as protection, but when the heaviness made impact, all you could hear was a ringing in your ear, and Curtis’s voice calling--

“Jo!”

---

You woke up to the nauseating smell of Kronole, and a massive headache. When your eyes steadied, Edgar came into focus in front of Tanya and other tail-sectioner, his hand holding the cube of Kronole. It was all you could do to not puke as you shoved the Kronole cube away from your face.

“If I don’t die from the concussion, you will have killed me with fume poisoning.”

Edgar let out a laugh, more or less relieved that you’re well enough to be annoyed with him, “Welcome back, Jo.”

You struggled to sit up, and felt Curtis’ arm supporting your back. Which is when you realized that you had been lying in Curtis’s arms. Your eyes whipped to see Curtis, his brows furrowed, his eyes full of concern.

"Careful," Curtis wrapped his other arm around your front, putting his leg behind you as a cushion.

“Sure you wanna get up so quickly?” Was Tanya, concerned?

You nodded nonetheless.

“I got her. Edgar, would you get the keys?” Curtis took your hand and helped you up as the crowd made a hole to reveal one specific prisoner bed on the wall of steely prisoner beds--Namgoong Minsoo.

You looked around, the guards had all been subdued, either passed out on the ground, or in the case of the giant, bleeding out. That was easier than I thought it would be, you thought.

“Hi.” Curtis’ voice pulled you from your thought, “You OK?”

You nodded again.

“You’re sure?” He lifted your hair, revealing a bruise that’s slowly turning dark.

You winced as his fingers gently touched the bruise, “I’ll have this to match the one on my back I guess.”

“You joke, but we were really worried back there. Tanya nearly cried. I think Edgar did cry.”

“Curtis, it’s open!” Edgar called from the center of the crowd.

Namgoong was exactly how you would have expected from what you learned about him. As he sat up from the cold slab of a bed, his hair was a messy nest, and he looked as if he was perpetually half-awake--perhaps this is his Kronole addiction doing a number on what you heard was an exceptional brain.

“Are you Nam?!“ Edgar yelled, equally convinced that Namgoong had fried his brain on sniffing Kronole.

“Edgar, get one of the round discs from the wall behind you.” You pointed to the translators.

Namgoong turned his eyes to you for a quick second, perhaps surprised that you knew about them. Edgar chucked a round disc to Namgoong, and one to Curtis. Thus began actual communication.

From what little Korean you knew, Namgoong was not afraid to throw in a few expletives when conversing with Curtis, who was asking him to help open the doors leading to the front of the train. Not a surprise.

Namgoong even pulled out a cigarette and lit up as murmurs rose amongst the crowd. “I thought cigarettes were extinct.” It wasn’t out of the blue to you thought--like in the outside world, many luxuries were kept strictly to the front on the Snowpiercer.

You were, however, taken aback when Namgoong pulled open another prisoner bed close by, revealing his daughter, Yuna. Nobody told you about her. Not even when you were physically here as surveyor.

As you stared at Yuna, trying to wrap your head around how and why a child would end up in prison, the young girl had sat up, rubbing her eyes.

Namgoong looked at her, a flicker of parental warmth in his eyes, and then told Curtis that he wanted two Kronole blocks per gate, as opposed to the one block Curtis proposed. All right, perhaps that wasn’t parental warmth you just saw... Regardless, there wasn’t much wiggle room for Curtis, so a deal was eventually struck.

As Namgoong busied himself with digging up the wiring for the next gate, you decided it was time for the next step. Finding Curtis huddled next to Edgar and Namgoong, you tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

His eyes lit up as he realized it was you. That seemed to be happening every time now.

“Wanna have a chat with Gilliam?” Your hand lingered on his shoulder just a little bit.

“Yeah,” Curtis laid his own hand on yours as he stood up.

Oh, so that’s a thing now. But oddly you liked it. Noting your surprise, Curtis’s hand faltered a bit. You caught it before his hand completely fell away. A smile crept up on both your faces. It’s a thing now.

“What about him?” You nodded towards Edgar, only to realize that he was wholly enraptured by Namgoong’s fiddling with the wires. So you left him be.

Together with Curtis, you found Gilliam, Grey, and Tanya in the back of the crowd. Gilliam raised an eyebrow as he noticed your interwoven hands, but said nothing. As you sat down, it was like you were back behind the tattered blinds, discussing how to start the revolt. Except now, there is no turning back.

“Why is she here?“ Tanya questioned.

“C’mon Tanya...”

“No, she’s right. Me barging into the Tail Section this morning will raise questions eventually. After the initial rush wears off I expect,” You would be lying if you said you didn’t expect any resistance. “I just... I want to say my piece, and then I will leave.”

Tanya and Curtis looked to Gilliam, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. That was all the permission you needed.

“I know the front sections well, and I really want to help. But I understand that my previous...lies...Well let’s just say I would need to prove myself,” you had been contemplating this for a while, so the words rolled off your tongue.

“For now, what I can contribute is this--I think we should leave a small group behind. We’re stretched too thin. It’s better to hold the sections we have, just so we have something to fall back on. And the guards should be tied up, or guarded if needs be. I know it’s a bit contrary to what the revolt is about, but pragmatically it’s really the best thing to do.”

You took a breath, letting your listeners digest what you said.

“Just a thought.” You stood up, gave Curtis a quick smile, “I’ll be with Namgoong and Edgar up front.”

---

Even though Jo left, Curtis could not stop thinking about what she said. And panic started setting in. He didn’t have a plan, and he’s not sure Gilliam had a plan either. What should they do about the guards? What should they do as they travel further up the train? Should they push through? But what if the front sends heavy forces to crush them? Should they leave a strong defense for each section? But would that mean fewer people will make it to the final showdown in the front? There were so many pros and cons that Curtis was losing grip on his vision of the best course of action.

Eventually, Gilliam made a decision.

“I think Jo was right.”

Curtis ran his thumb across his lips, his eyes staring past his extended lashes into the distance, “Hmmm...”

“So, you’ll give the orders then?”

That surprised Curtis. Surely it should be Gilliam giving the orders, right?

“I don’t know, Gilliam. It’ll sound a lot better coming from our leader.”

“Who do you think that is, Curtis?”

“I’m not a leader.” That much he knew about himself.

Eventually Gilliam agreed to give the order, and Curtis went to work. Most of the guards were just incapacitated, but every now and again, someone was badly injured and bleeding.

As Curtis made his way through the guards, Jo caught up with him.

“Hey, I think Namgoong is getting there.”

“He’s rusty, huh?“ Curtis took a look at the clock on the wall--half an hour.

“We should find him some tools in the next section. It’ll help.”

“Are there any tools in the next section?” Curtis turned to the next guard as he finished tying this one to the metal pipes running through the prison section.

The man was lying prostrate, but his lips were moving. “Please, help the kid, the kid...”

“What are you saying?” Jo squatted down next to Curtis, leaning towards the older guard to hear better.

“Careful,” Curtis held onto Jo, worried that the guard lunge at her.

The guard raised a trembling finger towards a young man in guard uniform, lying on his face, “He’s bleeding, help him.”

Jo did not hesitate, and rushed to turn the young man onto his back, examining the bloody gash on his right leg. As he watched Jo take off the guard’s belt and tighten it on his leg to stop the bleeding, Curtis was surprised to find himself feeling empathy for the guards. They’re not exactly leading a luxurious life either.

“Will he live?” the older guard asked Curtis.

For a split second, Curtis didn’t know what to tell him. Then he noticed how much that young guard looked like Edgar--dear god, they must be the same age...

“She’s the best change he’s got.”

Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface

#curtis everett #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett x reader #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #snowpiercer fanfic #Snowpiercer

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jocazep · 5 years ago

Text

In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 5

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

A/N: New chapter on Leap Day! As we get further in the story, Curtis and Jo will be spending more time together, so their POVs will start to blend together when they are sharing the same experiences (wink wink).

Taglist: Open until further notice!

Series Masterlist

Chapter Five - Passing Tests

“Sorry, sorry, we thank you for your contributions!”

Edgar’s voice clamored below as he collected barrels from various residents of the Tail Section. Curtis recorded the numbers down on his flimsy clipboard as men carried the barrels past him. Close by, Painter was drawing a quick sketch.

The long tube was coming along nicely, now stretching almost two-thirds of the section. At this rate, we won’t be able to hide it long,Curtis mused. It’s a nice problem to have, but a problem nonetheless.

Then, his stomach growled. It should be time for a head check soon. Looking down the narrow corridor, Curtis found himself thinking about you. He was still half worried every day that you would go back to the front of the train. To expose their plans for the revolt of course, not for any other reason. So every head check, Curtis would climb onto a random ladder nearby and look for you. For the past three days, you had been regularly appearing, and every day Curtis would avoid your eyes when he received his protein block.

“Guys, head check soon. Let’s hide the tube and get ready.” Curtis jumped off of his spot on the ladder and helped move the barrel to the back.

On the other side of the gate, you took a deep breath as you prepared to enter the Tail Section. The horrible smell was easy to get used to when you lived in the Tail, but extraordinarily strong when you only breathe it half an hour a day. The buzz sounded and you walked in with the cart.

Curtis was relieved to see you returning, same as last time. He moved his thought to other things, staring at the other two guards counting heads as row upon row of Tail Sectioners sat down.

Gilliam sat next to Curtis, “Planning something, are you?”

“They don’t have bullets.“

“Why do you say that?“

“Remember what Mason said? Put down that useless gun.“ Curtis had been thinking this over, after the fog of learning your identity lifted. The guns must be literally useless. They must have used up the bullets in the revolt four years ago. Bullets were extinct.

Up ahead, the two guards were paying more attention than usual to their numbers. That can’t be good.

The two guards started to push through the seated crowd and make their way down the section. Up at the front, you also noticed the kerfuffle. You stopped handing out the bars and caught up to them, shooting a look at Curtis and Gilliam as you walked past. Curtis didn’t dare make too big a gesture, but the look on his face told you everything.

By the speed at which they are building, the barrel tube couldn’t be too far off, you thought.

“What’s wrong?” you managed to say in a low voice. Only four people knew about your surveyor role in here. Can’t risk blowing this just yet.

“We are missing two. Just wanted to see if there was anyone back there.” The nose-breaker said.

“Everyone keeps regular company here, right? Just ask them who’s missing.” Take the hint, Curtis.

Behind you, Curtis counted the faces he knew, and quickly realized who was missing. Painter. And Andrew. Fuck. He stood up and took a ginger step towards you and the guards.

“Hey, sit down!” The nose-breaker pointed his rifle at Curtis. Your hand shot up to stop him.

With his hands raised, Curtis spoke,“It’s Andrew and Painter. You know Painter, he likes to draw. And, and Andrew’s still recovering from the Icing.“ He had never said so many words to the guards before in his life.

The nose-breaker looked offended, “I don’t KNOW anyone here.”

All eyes looked to you.

“Alright, no need to escalate this. Let me go back there to check, you two just finish handing out protein bars. I’ll catch up with you later.”

The guards didn’t argue. But before you parted ways, the nose-breaker decided to give you his rifle as a precaution.

You picked your way past the rest of the Tail Sectioners, careful not to come too close to someone you knew. Before you so much as clear the crowd, the barrel tub came into view. You almost stubbed your toe against it.

“Fuck.” You curse under your breath. This was a close call.

“Hey.“

You turned to see Curtis catching up with you.

“Thanks for that. You didn’t have to...”

“Oh I had to, or they would be confiscating this right about now.”

“I was talking about the Kronole. I got them using your protein blocks.”

“Oh. Good.”

You squatted down to take a better look at the barrel tube. To your surprise, it looked pretty sturdy. This should be able to stop the doors for a good long while.

As he watched you, the recurring question returned to Curtis. Could he trust you?

“When did you decide?”

You didn’t turn around, “Decide what?”

“You saved up eleven blocks of protein within two weeks. It must have been a pretty early decision to help--”

“Oh I just never learned to stomach them. So no losses there.” Let’s not go pulling at that thread. You continued to bang and tap lightly on the barrel, to keep yourself busy. “If you wanna thank me, let me be part of the revolt again.”

“We can’t let you back in until we know for sure you are completely honest with us. So when did you decide?”

“Wasn’t the letters honesty enough?”

“C’mon, it’s a simple question. When?”

It looked like he was not letting this go. All right, two could play at this honesty game. You straightened up and looked at Curtis square in the eyes.

“You want honest, do you?”

Curtis crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Let’s have at it.”

“OK. Here’s honest. I decided to help the minute I set foot in here. I wanted to find ways to make this place less of a hellhole. Nobody should have to live like this.

I was only supposed to be here for two days, but I felt sorry for you for having to live here. And I felt sorry for Gilliam for having to keep this place together for so long. And I cared. I cared about you, I cared about Edgar, I cared about Tanya, I cared about Timmy--

Oh and Timmy! I was sad that Timmy got taken away from his mother, but part of me was glad because wherever he’s going, it’s gonna be a hell lot better than this--”

Curtis blinked at you, surprised at your sudden outburst, yet at the same time captivated by the passion in your eyes.

You went on, “Hell the only reason I came back here is because I give a crap, so stop being so thick-headed and accept my help!”

You stood there, your chest rising and falling after that hushed tirade, your eyes still locked with the sea blue eyes in front of you.

“There. Honest enough for you?”

Curtis nodded. His heart beating faster for the same inexplicable reason that he kept thinking about you after you came into his world, the same inexplicable reason that he didn’t mind seeing more and more of you, even during Gilliam’s meetings, the same inexplicable reason that he let you leave instead of exposing you after you came clean. He still didn’t understand it but it’s here again now.

“Good.” You made to get back, but Curtis grabbed you by the arm and pulled you back.

“Wh--” before you could react, his other arm found your waist, pushed you up against him, and his lips crashed into yours. They were warm, and softer than you expected. Yours, on the other hand, were caught half open.

Your eyes went wide. Your free hand instinctively flew up, but before you could push Curtis away, his left hand trailed past your shoulder and found its way to the back of your neck, softly cupping your head just below your clunky helmet.

You closed your eyes, beginning to enjoy the feeling of being held so close to Curtis that the two of you were virtually melting into each other. Your right hand held onto his arm, and your left arm hooked itself around his neck. A whimper escaped you as Curtis dragged his lips across yours, his beard tickling you.

It might have been an eternity before the two of you broke off the kiss. Forehead resting against forehead, both gulped for air as you steadied yourselves.

“Was that my reward for being honest?” You teased.

Curtis let out an ambiguous low hum. You were still intimately close to him, and his body was reacting to it in more than one way.

You unhooked your arm from his neck, took hold of his hands resting on your waist, and stepped back to allow some space between the two of you.

“Was that not...” good? Curtis left the word unsaid, his arms reaching for you.

Sometimes you forgot that Curtis has lived on the train for 17 years and had very little experience in romantic relationships.

“No, no, no, no, I just thought...” You gave his hands a squeeze, “in case someone sees.”

Curtis chuckled, relieved. It was probably the first time you saw him smile. And for a blissful moment, both of you stood there, basked in the glow of this undefined intimacy, all cares to the wind. Until--

“Curtis?”

Tanya stood a few feet from you and Curtis, her face unreadable.

And just like that, all the complication came rushing back. Curtis could practically feel himself stiffen. His hands fell, or you withdrew yours, he couldn’t be too sure, but the connection was gone.

And you remembered what you were supposed to do here.

“I should be going.” You snuck past Tanya, avoiding her eyes.

Curtis’s eyes followed you as you walked into the shuffling crowd and vanished.

“Is she back in? Can we trust her?“

Curtis didn’t really have the answers to Tanya’s question.

---

Curtis couldn’t get the kiss out of his head, as much as he tried. The rest of the day was spent building the barrel tube, which was sticking out past the bunks into the large clearing at the head of the section by the time Curtis called it a night.

He turned onto his back, staring at the bunk above, different feelings mixing into a confusing pile of unease in his stomach.

“Edgar, how far back can you remember?“

“I don’t know, like what?”

“Your mother. Can you remember her?“

“I remember a face, every once in a while, but it’s not clear...”

Curtis slowly drifted to uneasy sleep, dreaming of you in his arms, his name on your lips.

“Curtis... Curtis... Curtis...”

But then, your face transformed into that of Edgar’s mother, with a voice that sounded exactly like Edgar.

“Curtis! Curtis!”

Terrified, he let out a cry and woke up to Edgar shaking him.

“Curtis! Thank god you’re up. It’s Jo, she’s...”

Curtis sprang off his bunk. No sooner had he landed on his feet than a wave of people rushing to the front knocked him unsteady.

“What’s everybody doing?”

“Head check, now,” you came pushing past the crowd, back in Curtis’s shirt and the old coat. “Gotta hide the barrel.”

Whatever dream Curtis had was cast aside. The next minute seemed like a century as he and the rest of the Tail-sectioners scrambled to hide their contraption as well as they could--which, given the sheer length of the barrel tube, was just five rows from the front of the head check line.

When the buzz sounded, they were only half way done, the steel still quite visible through the legs.

“Guys, c’mon, make a hole and let the people through!“ You joined the line next to Edgar in your old spot as Curtis ushered the last few people to their place. It was oddly comforting.

“When we sit down, they’re still gonna see it...” Edgar was quick to realize the fault in the (lack of) plan.

“We gotta go now.” You whispered.

“Now?” Gilliam said in his hoarse voice, making you jump slightly.

“How do we know if you’re not tricking us?“ Tanya was still skeptical. Of course.

“She’s right.” Curtis took his place next to you. He took a deep breath, “It’s now or never.”

They watched with dread as the multiple locks on the steel gate undid themselves, and the guards appeared, still wheeling the cart of protein blocks. Curtis shot a look at Edgar.

The latter yelled, “We’re sick and tired of this protein block bullshit!”

Tanya caught on, “Yeah, we want chicken!”

And just like that, the crowd started to boil.

The guards were quick to draw the rifles that may or may not have bullets in them.

Curtis turned to you, “Jo, the rifles, you held one yesterday. Do they have bullets?”

What is this, another test? Your throat suddenly felt dry. Whatever Curtis was thinking, with Tanya watching, this just became one.

“I--When I held it yesterday it felt light. I don’t know if they have bullets today...” Then you realized why he was asking, “Curtis, wait...“

“Here’s hoping.” He gave you a quick peck on the forehead, and set off.

You hurried after him, but him being six-foot tall, he got to the nose-breaker in virtually a heartbeat. Curtis grabbed the rifle, put his forehead against the nuzzle, and wrapped his hand around the trigger.

It felt as if the world held its breath. Your arm was extended out towards Curtis. A few yards back, Edgar tip-toed past the crowd, anxious to find out if Curtis will survive the next split second. Tanya was caught in the throes of struggle with another guard, but her eyes looked towards Curtis--

Click.

“They’ve got no bullets!”

Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface

#curtis everett #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #Snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfic

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jocazep · 5 years ago

Text

In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 4

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Taglist: Open until further notice!

Series Masterlist

Chapter Four - Going Back

STOMP STOMP STOMP--the sound of heavy boots woke you from your slumber.

“Miss Jo, we’ve got food up front if you want any.”

“Hmmm,” you replied, still keeping your eyes shut. Against your red eyelids in the sunlight, Curtis’s face was fading quickly, and you wanted to cling on with everything you had.

His eyes were all that’s left in your head. The way they took you in when you stepped out of the wash room. The way they went wide after you told him that you were actually a surveyor sent down to conduct a census. The way they became cold after he realized you had been lying to him all this time.

“Curtis, listen to me. What I’ve seen in these past two weeks...” You pulled at Curtis’s arm from behind, straining to keep up with his broad stride.

Curtis spun back. You crashed into him, his heaving chest colliding with the hands you held up out of instinct. Curtis’s torso was warm, but the look on his face was anything but. He clasped his hands on your arms, pushed you away from his body and let go, all in one fluid motion.

“Oh I’m sure you’ve see a lot, so you can take everything you know about the revolt and Namgoong all back to the...” Curtis lowered his voice, “the front!”

“I’m not going back.”

Curtis took a beat.

“I meant what I said. I’ve seen enough to know that change is overdue.”

It was yet another long beat before he said,“Did you have anything to do with Timmy?”

“What?” Your heart jumped to your throat.

“You heard me. Did you have anything to do with Timmy.“

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t?“

“Try me.“

There you had to make a decision. Did you want to stay with your newly made friends, or did you want them to really trust you?

You chose the latter.

Which reminded you. You sat up, eyes open and wide awake, and dug out your notebook from under your pillow.

The guard’s quarters had only two desk, since most of the men don’t do much reading and writing. But today you found both occupied.

“Oh, I can come back later.”

“No, no, Miss Jo you can take mine,” A guard offered up his spot.

“Thank you,” you recognize him as the same guard that broke Doris’s nose, but made no fuss about it.

You’ve gotta take care of the grand scheme of things.

You were a bit shocked to find Wilford’s voice creeping into your head.

The grand scheme of things. That’s probably his favorite phrase. You thought as you wrote in your notebook, remembering the meeting you had before setting off on this surveyor trip down the train. Well, meeting is a big word... It would probably qualify as a casual chat at best.

“There will be a lot of shocks to your system. The rigid work, the poverty, the human suffering, all of that. You will wonder, if what you are doing is right. You will ask yourself if you should be on the side that aims to destroy the status quo. In those times, just remember, on this train, just as it used to be out there,“ his pajamaed arm pointed to the world subsumed in snow, through the solid walls of his own section, the very head of the train, the locomotive, and opined over the rhythmic humming of the engine, “these things have to exist within the grand scheme of things. They are necessary for a true, everlasting balance.”

You were, just a few weeks ago, innocent to just how different everything could be beyond the first few sections of the Snowpiercer, so you nodded along.

How wrong you were. Thinking back, if you had been living in the Tail Section for 17 years and discovered a front-sectioner in your midst, you wouldn’t have let them leave. You shook your head as the final note was wrapping itself up.

“All done, Miss Jo?” The nose-breaker returned, “your food, real food, is still on the dining table if you’d like to eat it. Just thought I’d let you know since me and the boys are going to do a head check in the Tail.”

You looked up at him. Real food did sound temping...But you had more pressing matters at hand. The grand scheme of things.

“Actually, do you think I could join you? For my report. I was in a hurry on my way down, so I skipped your section completely.”

---

The same tedious buzz called everyone in the Tail Section for a head check.

“What do you mean, she just left? She was exiled here, wasn’t she? Where could she have gone?” Edgar walked backwards in line, pestering Curtis with questions about Jo.

“I don’t know what to tell you.“

“You don’t think those bastards took her? ” Edgar tilted his head towards the guard handing out the protein blocks.

“If she really left voluntarily, if that is even possible, she would have said goodbye to us, right?” Now Tanya has a say in this too. Great.

“Look, we should be talking about more important things, all right? She’s just one person.” Curtis pushed through, whipped his protein block from the guard’s hand, and walked off.

“What’s gotten into him?“ Edgar said as he took a bite of the protein block.

It didn’t take long for Curtis to discover the little paper note hidden at the center of his protein block. He was checking for a red letter under the light, but found a much larger piece of paper instead.

The initial excitement faded as he soon realized that this was not a communique from the secret helper up front. The letter read:

Dear Curtis,

You’ll probably want to throw this away. Please don’t. I will make this short.

Once you get to the prison section, you will need to take out the prison guard. I met him on my way down--he’s a fucking giant. Grey needs to be prepared. Namgoong you can bribe with Kronole--he’s an addict. I saw his cell tag on my way down. I saved up some protein blocks between the planks of the bed above mine. A small way towards my penance. I wrote to Tanya and Edgar too, explaining what happened, so they will lay off your back.

You probably want nothing to do with me ever again, as is your right. but I really did mean it. I want to help. So this is me helping.

P.S. If you’re worried about the guards having read this... I delivered it myself--yes that was me in the guard uniform.

The words made Curtis’s head spin. He rushed back to the front of the section, hoping to check if it really was Jo with the guards, but they had already left.

He looked down at the carefully written “Curtis” on the little twice-folded paper, and thought back to their argument just the night before. And a strange feeling started rising within him, a feeling he hadn’t felt since Jo told the abortion story when they first met. That must have been a damn lie, too. So how can he trust her now? But if she was telling the truth, she just handed him the key to the front...

Curtis decided to try his luck one small step at a time. He ambled to the bed that used to be Jo’s bunk. Surprisingly it hadn’t been taken yet. He climbed up. The space between two bunks was too tight, so Curtis had to lie down. As he did, he caught a faint scent of blood and soap from the tread-bare quilt. It was what Jo smelled like last night too...

Focusing his mind, Curtis swallowed and looked up to see strips of torn yellow fabric woven with the wooden planks of the bunk above, holding nearly a dozen of protein blocks in place in between the planks. Jo wasn’t lying.

As Curtis gingerly retrieved each protein block, he ran some numbers in his head. Two weeks, that’s fourteen days, and Jo had managed to save eleven protein blocks. That means she only ate three. For fourteen days?

Before he could realize that he was worried for Jo’s well-being, Tanya’s voice rang in his ear.

“Curtis, is any of this true?“ She waved her letter in his face.

Curtis pulled off his hat, bagged all eleven protein bars with it, and climbed off the bunk.

“Can I see it?”

To Curtis’s surprise, the two letters to Tanya and Edgar were honest, even brutally so. Jo owned up to everything, the surveyor assignment, her fake Mason story, her involvement in the taking of Timmy. She also said that she had no idea what Timmy was taken for, and for some reason, both Curtis and Tanya tended to believe her.

Edgar, however, was a completely different story. He all but went through the five stages of grief--after claiming this was a intricate mind game by the front-sectioners, and cursing out Jo, he asked Curtis, “Do you think we can write back?“

Curtis looked at Edgar as if he asked if it was warm outside. But to be fair, Jo was still not far off.

“I just figured...”

“Do what you want.” Curtis walked off with the can of fresh uncut Kronole he procured with Jo’s protein blocks.

---

As you straightened yourself back up for the hundredth time after laying a line of protein blocks neatly into the push car, you had a new found respect for the guards.

“Why wasn’t this cart made taller?” You couldn’t help but wonder out loud.

“Oh this is already an improvement from the one we had before,” the nose-breaker grunted as he pushed the cart past the steel gate.

“Yeah, how long ago was that?”

“Five years ago I think. Thank god this one’s steady at least. Gotta make this one last at least another five.”

You made a note in your head as you walked with the guards into the Tail Section. After the harsh buzz stopped, you raised the visor on your helmet and proceeded to hand out the protein blocks, hoping your eyes would be able to catch Curtis, Edgar, and maybe even Tanya as they came up--you were unsure how you felt about Tanya. She was very kind to you when you first arrived in the Tail Section, but now that she knew about your involvement in Timmy being taken away, it wouldn’t be surprising if she sucker punched you where you stood.

Edgar was the first. As he walked up, he tilted his head to search for your eyes. And when he found them, he had to fight to contain his smile. You handed him a protein block, and as his hand took it, you felt a small prick through your glove--a letter. Your fingers extended over and slid the note into your palm, and you gave him the most imperceptible nod.

Tanya walked up, whisked the block from you and walked away without giving you a second look. You were somehow a bit relieved. That leaves Curtis.

You spot his grey hat and wide shoulders from far off, inching slowly towards you, your heart rate slowly rising. As his features came into focus, you noticed that he had washed his face, possibly even with soap. What gives? You mused as you stretched out your arm, holding the warm brownish sustenance.

Curtis took the other end of the block. For a second you waited for the prickly corner of paper to hit your fingertips. But nothing came.

Your eyes flicked up to search his face--it was unreadable. Give me something, did you read the letter? Did you throw it away? What happened?! It was nearly impossible to convey all this through your eyes, but you were thinking it all the same.

If Curtis had noticed your subtle signs, he did nothing to show for it. After a prolonged moment, he gave the protein block a nudge, and you let it slide out of your hand.

After the head check, you returned with the guards to their section. Having changed out of the guard uniform, you sat down at one of the desk and unfurled the crumpled note from Edgar:

Dear Jo:

We were shocked when Curtis said you left. We didn’t know where you would go to. I still don’t know if I should believe your letter, but I think I know you, and I remember you helping Tanya when they came to take Timmy, so I think you’re alright.

I don’t know what’s wrong with Curtis. He’s pretty moody lately, but he’s figured out a way to get Namgoong to cooperate, so I heard through the curtain at Gilliam’s. So hopefully we will be able to pick you up on our way to the front. He’s also building a long door stop out of barrels--he says the idea came from a story you told about me Shit I am running out of space. Write me back so I have more paper to tell you things!

Edgar

You folded the piece of paper and hid them in your notebook. A smile crept up your face. He did read the letter. And better yet, he believed you, he listened to you, and he didn’t expose you. And the wheels of change are in motion.

Taglist: @emmalbg @ajosieface @torntaltos

#Curtis Everette Fanfic #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett #Snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfic #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans

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jocazep · 5 years ago

Text

In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 3

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Taglist: Open until further notice!

Series Masterlist

Chapter Three - Coming Clean

Curtis had been having trouble sleeping. The red letter had stopped coming for a while, since the last one that spelled out the name of the security expert locked in the prison section three cars ahead. Like Gilliam said, their fate depended on this person. But how do they get to the prison section? He’s been counting the seconds every time the guards came to dispense protein blocks, and without fail, the three doors would start to close after four seconds. He turned on his narrow bed. Edgar muttered something in his sleep on the bottom bunk, “Leave it, Mum, no leave it...”

Curtis waited for it to stop, but no luck. After a few minutes, he let out a sigh, and sat up. Climbing down the steps, he made for the front of the section, looking for some peace and quiet to clear his head.

“Pssst, you should be sleeping.” Jo’s voice came whispering behind him. Curtis turned to see her leaning out from her bed.

“Right back at you,” He whispered back.

A smile spread on Jo’s face, “Touché. Good night, Curtis.”

“Good night.” He stood there just a moment longer after Jo retreated back to the shadows of her bunk. His own smile taking its sweet time fading.

He had been seeing more and more of Jo lately. Every so often, as he discussed plans for their revolt with Gilliam, Jo would pop in to return a book and borrow a new one. Strangely Curtis didn’t mind, which must be because Gilliam didn’t seem to mind, he reasoned to himself. But someone very much did.

“Why does Jo get to sit in and I can’t?” After about the 8th time of being asked to wait outside, Edgar complained.

“Because she keeps her eyes to herself when she’s in there,” Curtis really didn’t want this argument today, not when he’s still stuck on getting past the doors.

“I can keep my eyes to myself! It’s just my ears that want to listen.”

Curtis couldn’t help but chuckle, “Look, she’s not sitting in for anything, she’s just returning Gilliam’s books. Maybe if you read any, you’d be given in-and-out access too.“ Then he trudged into Gilliam’s quarters for another session.

“I just think I can help out!” Behind him, Edgar made his dissatisfaction known one more time before slumping down to his usual spot opposite Grey.

About half an hour into the session with Gilliam, Curtis was already frustrated enough to pull his own hair out.

“Even if it’s just me on the cart and Grey pushing, we’re cutting it close with just four seconds...“ Curtis ran his hand through his beard, his eyes fixed on the three protein blocks laid out on the table.

“Could Nam perhaps come back to open the gates again and take us the rest of the way.“

“Yeah, if we can get him to cooperate--“ Curtis stops short as a beam of light lit up the desk.

“Don’t mind me,“ Jo stepped in, her hair catching a reddish hue against the light, “I’m just returning Korea.” She waved a ripped out section of a book with a little Earth logo on the top of each page.

Curtis recognized it as the Lonely Planet book he had when he was hitchhiking onto this train back in 2014 at the tender age of 17. The now 33-year-old felt a pan of nostalgia. He had no idea that Gilliam kept it.

Jo took a quick glance at the table, and went to browse the rest of Gilliam’s collection. Curtis wondered what else Gilliam had kept from the early days of the train.

“Still wondering how to get through three doors in four seconds?” Jo’s voice came through quiet but definitive.

Curtis’s mouth fell to the floor. He looked at her with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he searched for the words.

Meanwhile Jo didn’t need to wait for the question, “Edgar told me.”

Of course. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with that boy.”

“Oh don’t be so harsh on him. He’s just starved for conversation now that you are always holed up here working. He was also telling me about the bathroom door, it just wouldn’t close during his wash time, and it turned out that a tiny scrap of tin can was lodged near the frame in the rail..”

A lightbulb went off in Curtis’s head, “That’s it!” He all but jumped up, and clasped his hands on both Jo’s arms, “That’s it, I’ve got--” He could have kissed her in that moment, were it not for Edgar running in.

“Health inspection, now.”

And the world turned upside down.

They took all the kids. And lined them up in the front of the train. Measuring them. All eleven of them. Tanya had hidden Timmy inside her skirt, but the woman in the yellow jacket found him, and pulled him up too.

Tanya fought like hell, but when Curtis, Edgar, and Jo had gotten to her, the guards already had her on the ground. The trio acted on pure instinct, and pushed against the guards still beating Tanya.

Amidst the struggle, Curtis saw a guard carrying Timmy up to a woman in a yellow jacket, who measured him for height. He didn’t have much time to understand what this was all for though, for behind him came a sickening sound of metal on flesh--

Jo had pushed one of the guards onto the ground and earned a heavy rifle butt in the back.

“Hey you bastards!” Edgar went for the guard, while Curtis squatted down to check on Jo.

“You okay?”

Jo looked shaken to her core, her eyes red and fighting back tears. She still gave him a quick nod, “Go help Tanya.”

Curtis could never forget the look on Tanya’s face as she watched her son follow the yellow lady out of the Tail Section. Everything moved in slow motion. The father of the other boy taken threw a shoe at the lady, and a mob of guards flooded to subdue him. Tanya was crying for Timmy. The boy looked back as the door to the quarantine section slowly closed behind him.

---

They took Timmy.

For a long while this was the only thought circling in your head. As Curtis pulled you to your feet, as the crowd calmed down after the yellow woman took the two boys away, as you helped Tanya back to her bed, this was all you could think about.

They took Timmy.

Because of you.

A small voice kept saying in your head. The rational part of you reasoned that it was all Wilford’s fault, whatever his intentions were for the children, but the small voice was very insistent. It kept repeating these same words as your fidgeting hands cleaned up Tanya’s wounds from the beating.

“Jo, Jo,” Curtis’s voice came through foggy.

“Yes?” You tore your attention from Tanya’s puffy eye for a moment. She had calmed down from the adrenaline rush some time ago, and was now asleep out of exhaustion.

Curtis’ brows creased as he saw your face, a flicker of concern in his eyes.

Which is when you first realized that you had been crying. Your streaks of tear leaving a sting in your left cheek.

You tilted your head up and blinked your eyes, not wanting to get tears on your hands. Curtis palmed out a small piece of cloth, and handed it to you.

“I can’t.” You signaled your hands, “I’m almost done anyways, it’s okay.”

He squatted down, and reached out to wipe your tears. You flinched at first contact.

“Come here,” his low voice vibrated quietly, “You’re bleeding.”

You held your breath and you watched his hand approach. Through the cloth, Curtis’s touch was surprisingly gentle as he wiped the tears away.

“Is it bad, the cut?”

“Not too bad,” He dabbed the congealed blood off your face, “Did you not feel it?”

You shook your head, “Must be the adrenaline.”

“Speaking of which, what were you thinking, rushing the guards like that?”

“I couldn’t just let them--” You stopped mid-sentence as a pang of guilt hits you in the gut.

“The only way we can stop any of this is getting to the front of the train. Anything else is just a distraction.”

If only that were true. “This is people’s lives we are talking about. It’s Timmy, and Andrew’s boy.” How ironic coming from you, you thought, but it couldn’t be helped.

“You and Edgar, I swear to god, it’s as if you were twins...” Curtis sighed as he stood back up, “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you, Mason is coming down. It’s gonna be ugly. Maybe stay here with Tanya.”

You didn’t listen to Curtis.

When the guards came back with Minister Mason and the Franco Brothers to punish Andrew, Curtis was surprised to see you sitting down next to him.

“He’ll need help when they’re through,” you said. Curtis didn’t argue with that.

You’ve heard about the Freezing in the front before, but seeing it still put a visceral horror inside you. As Andrew’s arm hit the sub-zero air outside, his howls chilled you to your bones.

Then came Mason’s speech, with which you were all too familiar. But this time it sounded more shrill than ever before.

“I belong to the front, and you belong to the tail...”

Andrew had passed out from shock, and the Franco brothers had to physically pull him back to the center of the front. His right arm was frozen hard as a rock.

You stopped looking as the Franco brothers put Andrew’s right arm on the chopping block, for lack of a better word, and pulled up a cast iron hammer.

A small movement in your peripheral vision caught your attention. You look to your right--Curtis had put his left hand between the two of you. No words were needed, a silent moment of understanding passing between you. You put your hand in his, and gave it a little squeeze. You were okay.

You forced your eyes back up. You should watch this.

Slam. Contact. Andrew fell to the ground howling. You squeezed Curtis’s hand a little tighter. He wrapped his fingers around the back of your hand.

Behind you, a clicking of crutches approached. You knew it was Gilliam by the shift in Mason’s countenance. She stood up to greet him.

People shifted to clear a path for Gilliam. The clueless guards raised their guns, but Mason waved them away.

“Put that useless gun down! Put it away!”

As Gilliam walked past, you began to stand up. Curtis was still holding your hand. His eyes searched yours with concern.

“I should go help,” you said. Curtis nodded and let go.

You held eyes with Mason for a moment before walking past her, a slight twitch of her face betraying her recognition of you. You didn’t reciprocate. Taking the blanket from Gilliam’s hook, you wrapped it around Andrew and helped him up.

---

As Jo busied herself with taking care of Andrew, Curtis pitched his solution for getting past the three security gates. Sure the door stop would take a while to build, but with luck they would have enough scraps within the Tail Section to pull it off. And if anyone needed motivation before, Andrew’s punishment this afternoon surely lit a fire in most.

By the time everything was squared away, it was deep into the night. Curtis exited Gilliam’s quarters with Edgar (who was very excited to be finally sitting in on a revolt meeting), and went to check on Tanya.

“Man, that was a genius plan,” Edgar was still a little excited, “How did you think of that?”

“Oh it was something Jo said--” Curtis remembered Jo, and wondered how she was doing, “Hey, Edgar, go on ahead to Tanya’s first. I’m gonna check on Andrew, see how he’s doing.”

Curtis found Andrew curled up on his bunk, what remained of his right arm bandaged neatly with a vaguely familiar, faintly yellow fabric. Andrew was sound asleep, and Jo nowhere to be found.

Painter lowered himself on his little pulley, “She just went to wash up.” He handed a charcoal drawing to Curtis. In it, Jo was ripping off the sleeves of her shirt.

Curtis returned the drawing to Painter, and headed for the washroom.

---

Flickering light escaped through the small crack in the door. Looks like the door is still broken. Curtis could hear the water running inside as you turned on the tap, and then, a quiet yelp.

“Jo, you okay in there?”

A beat before you answered, “Yeah, it’s just the water’s colder than I thought.”

Curtis nodded before he realized you couldn’t see him. He leaned his back against the frame of the door, blocking the slim opening. Another small yelp came through the door. It must be the cut on your face. Then Curtis thought of the rifle hit on your back--that must be bruising now...

The whole train was quiet, except for the sound of water. Curtis shifted as his thoughts turned from the bruise to the cold water running down your naked back. He thought of your arms as you tore off the sleeves of your shirt to bandage Andrew. He swallowed hard. It’s been forever since he’s thought of a woman that way.

Your wash was really short, seeing how the water was scarce.

Between cleaning Tanya and Andrew, there was barely enough soap to wash the soot, blood, and chunks of flesh off your hands and face anyway. The rest you had to make do with what used to be the torso of your torn-up shirt.

Thankfully there was a mirror in the washroom, so you could check yourself for injuries. The rifle butt you caught in the back left a nasty bruise, just beneath your bra strap. That probably won’t go away for weeks. But else than that, you got off pretty lucky.

Compared with Tanya and Andrew. Oh shit, Tanya and Andrew. And their children. The pang of guilt returned. The wretched cries of the two parents echoed in your ears as you looked down at your surveyor’s notebook. It’s time to come clean.

Turning off the water, you reached for the rest of your clothes, only to remember that you left them outside of the cramped space.

You turned to the door, and saw Curtis’s broad shoulders blocking the crack you had left in the door. You felt butterflies in your stomach. Has he been there the whole time? This whole time only a flimsy door stood between you and Curtis?

You licked your lips and called out, “Curtis? Can you hand me my clothes?”

Curtis hadn’t even noticed the pile of clothes until then.

“Yes,” His movement was rigid, him doing his best to keep his field of vision from the door as his hand grabbed the clothes and reached in.

“Thanks,” it was virtually a whisper as you took the clothes.

Then Curtis remembered Painter’s drawing, “Wait.” He took off his coat, his layers of sweaters beneath, and finally his flannel shirt. Dusting it off, he handed it through the crack to you.

“It’s not the cleanest, and missing a couple of buttons, but...”

You stared at the shirt, and Curtis’s arm holding it. Your eyes travel the length of the arm, marveling at the tense muscles before noticing a light scar running across it near the elbow. Is he not wearing anything on the other side? For some reason the thought made your heart beat faster.

“Thanks,” you took the shirt and put it on. The flannel smelled faintly of soot and sweat. And Curtis.

Once you put on your sweater, and wedged the notebook in its usual hiding place, you opened the door fully, “Is everything okay? Tanya? Andrew?”

Curtis turned and took you in. His flannel was much too large a fit, and the missing buttons revealed just a bit of skin around your collarbone. The thin layer of moisture left your skin glistening.

Curtis wanted to tell you a lot of things, but at the moment, all he could muster was to clear his throat and say, “Yeah they’re all fine. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

You took a deep breath. Here goes. Coming clean.

“Curtis, before...” Before what exactly? You shook your head and pushed on, “I think there’s something you should know.”

Taglist: @emmalbg @ajosieface @torntaltos

#chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #curtis everett x reader #snowpiercer #chris evans #chris evans x you #curtis everett #curtis everett fanfic #snowpiercer fanfic

43 notes · View notes

jocazep · 5 years ago

Text

In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 2

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Author’s notes: So after a bit of tinkering with the outline, the entire series has been retitled In the Whole Wide Train, and going forward each chapter will have a title as well.

Taglist is also opening starting from this chapter. Please shoot me a note if you’d like to be tagged.

Series Masterlist | Read Chapter One - Doing Right

Chapter Two - Keeping Habits

Funny how sometimes the right thing could feel...so wrong.

You picked the two pieces of wood Timmy had scavenged from around the section and placed them on either side of Doris’ bandaged hand. The elderly woman let out a hiss of pain.

“Sorry Doris.”

Earlier at noon, when the guards came in with the protein blocks, they asked for a violinist. After some hesitation, the old couple that Tanya introduced to you walked up.

“Excuse me, sir. My wife and I played the violin in the Boston Symphony Orchestra. I was the first chair.”

“Do they usually pluck people up to the front like this?” You asked Edgar as you inched up towards the front of the protein block line. Ever since he heard about your Mason story, he’s taken quite an interest in you.

“Yeah, these bastards with their steak dinners and their string quartets think they own us.”

“We’ll be different when we get there.” Curtis said behind you.

You raised your eyebrows at Curtis. Progress. This is the first time they mentioned their plans of revolting in front of you. Even though it’s really an open secret in the Tail Section. Maybe the little run-in last night wasn’t all bad.

Curtis caught your look, “What?”

“Nothing. Just wondering how long it’s been since you washed your face.” You diverted the conversation with a slight dig.

“Look around, you’re the exception here.” Curtis fired back in a rare moment of levity, “And in a few more days you’re gonna look like this as well.”

“What, I’m gonna grow ten inches and sprout a full beard?”

“All kidding aside, Jo, water is scarce here, and soap even more so,” Curtis returned to his serious demeanor.

Edgar was quick to add on, “You really gotta kick the habit of washing your face every day.”

“Man, you two make it sound like a drug addiction.”

The three of you reach the front of the queue. You scooped up your block of squishy sustenance and started to walk back to your bunk, when suddenly a struggle broke out behind you--

Wham! One guard had knocked Doris to the ground with his rifle. While another guard ordered everyone to sit down.

“What the--” You wanted to go help Doris but a strong grip on the forearm held you in place. Your head snapped back to see Curtis sitting on the ground next to you.

“Sit down. Edgar you too.”

Edgar was not convinced, “You can’t just let them--”

Around the three of you, everyone else obeyed, not a single question asked. This almost seemed a natural occurrence.

Curtis tugged at your arm again, “Now’s not the time.“ Behind you a loud stomp and a shriek from the woman--the guard crushed her violin-playing hand. You jumped slightly at the noise.

But Curtis was right. And so, you sat.

As you gingerly tied the ad hoc splints around Doris’ broken hand, you wondered if the previous surveyors had ever witnessed such a thing, or if you were just unlucky.

---

Edgar whistled as he leaned against the door to the only bathroom in the Tail Section. A man walked up to him, wrestling a little boy with him. Edgar shook his head at the man. A few bunks down, Curtis watched the exchange while chewing on his protein block.

“Hey it’s our turn to wash now. Whoever’s in there should wait their turn like all of us!” The boy doesn’t seem so eager for his turn, Curtis thought.

“Hey, hey, hey! She’s sewing up Doris in there. Keep this up and the next person she sews up will be you! “

The door opened a slit and Jo popped her head out. The man gripped the boy with one hand, and reached to pull the door further open, but Edgar blocked him. The boy was still trying to get away.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Curtis tensed and took a few steps closer--he knew better than anyone how easily a small friction could turn into an all-out brawl here. But before he could reach the scene, Jo puts a hand on Edgar’s shoulder.

“It’s OK, I’m done anyways.”

Jo led Doris out from the dingy bathroom, the horrible gash on her nose now patched up. The man muttered something and walked in. Curtis shook his head, somewhat in relief. Edgar really needs to learn to take it down a notch sometimes.

He thought back to the incident earlier. Edgar was almost ready to fight the guard if he could. So hot blooded. Then there was Jo... Curtis didn’t know what to make of Jo yet. Could she be the “help” that the red letters inside the bullet casing promised? Or did she just happen to be exiled at this moment in time? But there’s something about her, something besides her medical experiences, and let’s call it her naiveté for lack of a better word, there’s something about her that made her stand out, made his thoughts keep returning to her.

“Please, Jo!” The excited chatter of children pulled Curtis from his pensive state. All the young kids, Timmy included, had cornered Jo and were asking her about life in the front sections.

Curtis stepped closer, interested to hear what Jo had to say.

“Did you like it in the front sections?”

“Oh, heavens no, that’s why I came to be with you!”

A girl, she must be only four or five, tugged at Jo’s sleeve, “What’s it like there?”

“Well, in the front sections everybody has their own room, and...”

“What’s a room?” Timmy asked.

“A room is...” Jo picked up Timmy and put him on her lap, “You know how we all live in this big section?” Timmy nodded.

“Well a room is a thousand time smaller, and you are the only one living in it.”

“That’s lonely.” Another kid said.

“That’s right. You wouldn’t be able to play with your friends, all...” Jo counted, “all eleven of you. And you will have to brush your teeth--”

“Noooo!”

“Scrub your hand--“

“Ewwwww!”

“Wash your face, every day!” Jo’s eyes found Curtis when she said that. Curtis couldn’t help but smile.

Wow, really? He mouthed.

Jo cocked her eyebrows. Her plump lips curved upward, as if to say “yes really”. Their eyes held for a moment before she returned her attention to the children.

“Curtis!” Curtis ripped his eyes from Jo and sought out the voice calling him. It was Edgar.

“Gilliam wants to see her.” Of course.

---

"He's just behind the curtains. We’re almost there.” Curtis said as he led you towards Gilliam’s quarters.

*At long last. *You fidgeted with the notebook concealed beneath your layers of clothing to make sure it wouldn’t fall out as you walk.

“So, who’s Gilliam?”

“He’s the one running things around here,” Edgar chimed in beside you, “But he’s grooming Curtis--”

“Edgar, enough.” Curtis said as he lifted up the curtains to let Jo through, “Stand watch, this won’t be long.”

“Aww I thought I would be able to come in—" Edgar whined a little but did as he was told.

The first thing that greeted you was the giant W seal on the wall once your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Even in the Tail Section of the train, Wilford must announce his complete and utter control over the Snowpiercer.

“Hello there,” A raspy British voice sounded from behind the shadows before Gilliam, his cheeks hollow, his hair disheveled, his eyes cloudy in his old age, “Come sit down.”

Gilliam pointed to a handful of what used to be pillows on the ground. You obliged.

“Curtis will you give us a second please?”

Curtis nodded, “Just call me when you need me.”

Gilliam waited until Curtis had walked well out of earshot before whispering to you, “So, that notebook hurt at all when you sit down?”

“Not one to beat around the bush, are you?“

Gilliam chuckled, “When you’re as old as I am...” He lifted his left arm, and you were shocked to see a steel hook in place of his hand. He tapped the hook on the upturned crate. “Let me see what you have so far.“

You pulled the notebook from under your clothes and opened it for Gilliam, “Need a light?“

“Oh, I can quite manage, thank you dear.”

Gilliam made small noises as he read your observations. Meanwhile, you took the time to look around the room again. Upon the wall was pieces of newspaper, parchment, notebook pages, broken pieces of what remained of the world before. He even had a couple of bronze statues scattered here and there, serving as book stops or clothes hangers. But your eyes kept coming back to Gilliam’s metal appendage. What happened there?

After a while Gilliam closed the notebook, “So when are you going to tell Curtis?”

“All in good time.” You weren’t exactly lying there.

“Now, forget what you were sent here for, and tell me. Do you think Curtis is up for what he must do?”

A quick look outside told you that Curtis had returned, and was standing with his back to you, engaged in some kind of discussion with Edgar. “Edgar thinks he’s the second coming. Well he’s not that, but I think he might surprise himself when the big moment comes.”

For a moment or two, Gilliam was lost in his own thought. Then suddenly, he called for Curtis, “Curtis will you join us? And bring Grey.”

As you scrambled to hide your notebook, Curtis walked in with another man in his early twenties, his eyes round and sparkling with an unidentifiable fire. This must be Grey.

“As I was saying, Jo you can come here any time to read what scraps of book I have.”

Message received. You picked up what looked like a ripped half of a book and told Grey you would return this later that same night, before leaving Gilliam and Curtis to their revolt planning.

Later that night, in the magical hour when the whole Tail section has fallen asleep, you finished scribbling in your notebook, and climbed down from your bunk and went into Gilliam’s quarters. Grey spotted you pretty much the moment you got out of bed, but he let you in without a word. Leaving you to wonder, does he ever talk at all? Gilliam was fast asleep, so you tip-toed to the giant W insignia on the wall, and slowly pushed it in on the right side--

The seal slowly spun to reveal a telephone. You reached out to pick it up, but your hand wavered mid-air.

Inhale. Exhale. You took a deep breath to steady yourself. This is it. You could hear your heart beating in your eardrums. It shouldn’t be this nerve-racking to you--it’s not like you haven’t made reports as a surveyor before, but this one, this goes straight to Wilford.

By the time you realized Gilliam had woken up, he had heard most of your report. You hung up the phone quietly and spun the seal back into place before turning to him.

“So, he wants to know how many young children there are.”

You nodded.

Gilliam sighed, “Well, I suppose we’ll find out why soon enough.”

You said good night to Gilliam and walked back. When you got to your bunk, you found a small clump of cloth sitting on top of a scrap of paper on your pillow.

The note said, “For your addiction.”

It would be really funny if someone gave you Kronole as a welcome gift, you mused as you picked up the cloth bundle and shook out its content--

A tiny piece of soap fell into your hand. It’s the thinnest, most fragile looking piece of soap you had ever seen. It’s virtually transparent. But at least you get you keep your habit for a while longer.

#Chris Evasn #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #Curtis Everett Fanfic #Curtis Everett x Reader #Curtis Everett #Snowpiercer Fanfic #Snowpiercer #chris evans x you #Curtis Everett x you

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jocazep · 5 years ago

Text

In the Whole Wide Train Masterlist

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Author’s notes: The story takes place before and during Curtis’ revolt, and will mostly follow the progression of the film with slight deviations.

I’m very new at this, but my goal is to post two chapters a week. Please send me your thoughts, comments, and reactions!

Taglist: Now Closed~

Chapter One - Doing Right

Chapter Two - Keeping Habits

Chapter Three - Coming Clean

Chapter Four - Going Back

Chapter Five - Passing Tests

Chapter Six - Rushing Guards

Chapter Seven - Changing Gear

Chapter Eight - Catching Fire

Chapter Nine - Washing Up

Chapter Ten - Trading Secrets

Chapter Eleven - Breaking Bread

Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface

#Chris Evans x Reader #Chris Evans Fanfic #Curtis Everett x Reader #Curtis Everett Fanfic #Snowpiercer Fanfic #Chris Evans #Curtis Everett #Snowpiercer #chris evans x you #Curtis Everett x you

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jocazep · 5 years ago

Text

In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 1

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Author’s notes: In a pure coincidence, I am starting my Snowpiercer Fanfic on the same day as Bong Joon Ho’s Oscar win. Congratulations to BJH!

The story takes place before and during Curtis’ revolt, and will mostly follow the progression of the film with slight deviations.

I’m very new at this, but my goal is to post two chapters a week. Please send me your thoughts, comments, and reactions!

Chapter One - Doing Right

**Word Count: **1,939

You sniffed your new clothes--a little lived in, but isn’t that the point? The shirt must have been white once upon a time, but the collar poking out from beneath a itchy sweater vest was stained a distinct yellow. The thick cargo pants were a little too short, revealing fraying socks. And hanging limply on the wall next to you was a coat, heavy, long and grey, but with numerous suspicious slits on the back. You glanced at your watch before taking it off. Just about on schedule, if not a little early.

Your thoughts drifted towards the front of the train, where you came and go among the School, Dining, Beauty Salon, and when you finally turned 21, the Club sections. So many years wasted in luxury, when the past week had taught her more about the Snowpiercer than the past 16 years combined.

“Are you OK in there?“ Someone knocked on the door to the cramped bathroom you currently occupied. You shook off your reverie and opened the door.

You handed a pile of cleaner clothes to a man wearing oily factory overalls. He took them and stuffed them into a shelf near his bunk.

“Thank you again.”

“Oh don’t thank me. I’m never going to use these anyway.” The man said as he walked you out of the living quarters into the churning and chopping noises of the Protein Block section. The stench hit you like a one-two punch, but the man seemed used to it. He pointed to the monster of a cooking cauldron in the center of the section.

“That’s where all the magic happens. And I always keep it running on time.“

You beelined for the assembly line churning out protein blocks. The thick, gelatinous, dark brown blocks were still steaming hot as they moved lazily down towards the stainless steel cart. Looks uninviting.

The man climbed up a flight of steps along the cauldron, calling down to you, ”Do you want to take a gander?”

Just then, the tail gates buzzed open, and a handful of guards flooded in.

“Chow time--“ the leader noticed you, “You the surveyor?“

“Jo, pleased to meet you,” You extended your hand.

“I see you already changed. Drew the short straw, huh?” The leader’s shake was half-hearted.

“Actually it’s been pretty illuminating.”

The leader snorted, “Hah, well your outlook’s pretty fucking bleak from here on out.”

Curtis couldn’t remember the last time someone was exiled all the way back to the Tail section. Maybe in the early days of the train, but back then he was too busy doing other things to notice.

Today, as the loud buzz sounded and everyone lined up for their usual head-check, the guards dragged a woman in with them and threw her onto the ground. The people in the first row scrambled to get away from her, naturally a little wary.

And then entered Mason. She gave her usual harangue about Willford’s benevolence and the importance of order, before moving onto the important part, ”This woman here could not fulfill what is required to her for the good of the whole train, so she has lost the privilege of being useful to Mr. Willford.”

A few rows back, Edgar muttered indignantly, “Of course, toss ‘em back to the Tail once you’ve worked them to near death...”

”So, look to her as an example.” The guards pulled her up--

“She looks younger than you, Curtis! Do you think she can help us get to the front?“

“Shut up, Edgar.” Curtis cut Edgar off, but he was intrigued. He wondered where she worked, if she’s been conscious enough on her way down the train to be useful, and most importantly, what she did to get herself exiled...

It wasn’t until everyone has taken their protein block that Tanya, bless her heart, ventured out to speak to the newcomer while Curtis observed from close by. She still looked a little shellshocked, not that he would blame her. The Tail section took some getting used to.

After a while, the young woman finally spoke and said her name was Jo. Tanya beckoned Curtis over and introduced him.

Jo looked up at him for a long beat. Curtis was suddenly very aware of the grime on his face, his unkept beard, and his hair running wild beneath that beanie.

“Hello,” Jo finally said. Her voice sounded almost calm if Curtis didn’t know better.

“Jo, right? Where did you work before?”

Jo faltered.Curtis noticed how clean Jo’s face was compared with everyone else around her. There was a small cut just beneath her cheekbone that looked suspiciously like someone slapped her while wearing rings. _She must have only been in grade school when she boarded..._His eyes lost focus as he pondered this newcomer.

“It’s OK sweetheart, you can tell us.” Tanya encouraged.

“I worked a while in the Medical section after finishing school.”

“Those wankers have a Medical section?” Edgar had appeared out of nowhere. But he bit his tongue after Curtis shot him a look.

“Why did they throw you out?”

“I refused to perform a forced abortion.”

Holy fuck. Curtis thought as a gasp escaped Tanya.

“A married couple found themselves pregnant with their third child, but they wanted to keep it. When Mason found out, she dragged the mother-to-be to me, but I wouldn’t do it. So...here I am.”

A beat of silence went by as everyone searched for something to say. Until finally--

“Did they keep the baby then?” Edgar asked, his eyes round.

Jo shook her head. Didn’t say another word, as if the mere memory haunted her.

Curtis felt anger rising within him. Was he angry at Mason for the abortion? Was he angry that Jo had to be punished for doing the right thing? Or was he maybe angry that the front sections have the luxury to raise multiple children? He didn’t know for sure.

Curtis would have stuck around to hear more, but somewhere towards the end of the section, someone found something in their protein block, and Curtis took Edgar to find out what.

Before the week was out, Tanya had introduced you to almost everyone in the Tail section, her boy Timmy, Timmy’s best friend, the Painter who drew everything, an old couple who both played the violin--it was impossible to remember all the names. There was much more diversity and interesting lives than you imagined, and you made a point to learn as much about everyone’s story as you could.

“Nighttime” was one of the few occasions when the Tail Section was quiet. You couldn’t really tell if it really is nighttime, because there were no windows for you to look outside. But there were these four to five magical hours of the day, when everyone stopped their bickering, bargaining and general wantonness and returned to their bunk to sleep. And everything just felt...peaceful. You would scribble down your notes and observations in your small notebook, and tuck it back into your waist, between your yellowed shirt and your bare skin.

This night, after you finished taking down notes for the day, you sat on your cramped bunk, just above Tanya and Timmy, and took up your own protein block. Pinching your nose, you took a cautious bite. You should be used to it by now, but the slightly salty taste and the jell-o texture still made you gag. You shivered as you forced it down. How can anyone keep eating this?

You broke the block apart with your hands, checking for something. Only a handful of people knew about the empty bullet casing inside the protein block. You would not have known about it either, if you hadn’t caught Curtis, Edgar and Tanya trying to coax the second block containing a bullet casing from Tanya’s son Timmy the day before.

You were sitting in the exact same place. Somewhere down the aisle, Edgar was munching on his block and obsessing with the taste of steak which he half forgot, when Tanya called out to Curtis.

“Curtis, here!” She signaled to Timmy, who’s licking his block on the edge of his bunk.

“Timbo...” Curtis’s low voice hummed from his chest as he strut up to Timmy and crouched down,”How’s it hanging buddy? Gimme a pound, blow it up.“

Timmy was surprisingly a hard bargain, and Edgar made to grab the block from the child. But Curtis was more patient.

“Hey, hey, hey, relax, relax,” he cooed.

He would have made a good politician up front, You thought,Persuasive, charming, photogenic...

A fit of clamoring broke your train of thought--Timmy has climbed all the way up to the catwalk between the top level of the bunks.

You crept out from your bunk and ventured closer to watch Curtis traded for Timmy’s block with an hour’s time with the ball.

“What do you want in this whole wide train?“ Curtis asked. You couldn’t help but smile at this sweet exchange.

Taking the block from Timmy, Curtis turned around, and before you realized, your eyes caught each other. A chill ran down your spine as the sea-blue eyes bore into you. Not wanting to maintain eye contact, you quickly cast your eyes down and hurried past him.

As you hid yourself from view, you hear Tanya ask, “Curtis, is it time?”

“Not yet, Tanya. Soon.“

Beneath you, Tanya has started to snore lightly. You peered down to check on the mother and son. Timmy was fast asleep in the arms of his mother. You spent a few minutes watching their chests rise and fall, wondering if you shouldn’t have lied to Tanya. Can they ever truly trust me?

Then, pushing the guilt from your mind, you dangled your legs out from your bed, and pushed yourself off the bunk. Plop--your feet hit the deck in a muffled sound. Making sure you hadn’t woken anyone, you tip-toed towards the end of the Tail section, where a curtain made of tattered fabric hung. You still hadn’t seen anyone come in and out of there in your whole time here, except for Curtis and Edgar. The curiosity had been eating you alive.

When you finally heard the low murmurs of conversation drifting out from behind the curtains, it was already too late. You looked down at the ground, your shadow had already cascaded through the tattered curtains. _Shit, someone’s there. _The murmurs stopped. Shit, shit, shit.

“Who’s there?” The curtains parted and out came Curtis. You had to step back to take in the towering man, seeming even bigger in the shadow.

“Jo what’s the matter? Is everything OK?” His voice was hushed, soft, and--concerned?

“I just couldn’t sleep...”

“Look, it wasn’t your fault. You did the right thing.” Curtis gave your shoulder a quick squeeze.

All of a sudden, there’s that creeping guilt again, nagging at you for lying to him about why you were here. Not all of it was a lie. You did work two years at the Medical section after you finished your college courses at age 20. This much was true. But you never had been forced to perform abortion on anyone. That was, of course, the prepared narrative so that you would be accepted into the Tail Section.

You forced yourself to look him in the eyes. His eyes shimmered beneath the sweat and grime.

”I just wish there was something I could do to change...” you signaled around yourself, “all this for the better.”

You’re doing the right thing, right?

#Chris Evans x Reader #Chris Evans Fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans x you #Curtis Everett x reader #Curtis Everette Fanfic #Snowpiercer #Chris Evans #Snowpiercer Fanfic

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