ofthehands

[ofthehands]

TCM Ship Week @maskemasker

Day seven prompt: Marriage

Ship: Stretch Brock x Sally Hardesty

In 1988, Sally meets Stretch at her uncle’s empty grave. She had brought flowers, one bouquet for Lefty, and one for Franklin a few stones down, after learning his part in the unfortunate story. When Sally, in her mourning dress at every visit, came along, Stretch took a flower from a bouquet and gave it to her. That became tradition. Every time they saw each other, she had flowers for Sally, some crafted, some for her garden, some pressed in book pages. All gifted with a hint of admiration for her being the first survivor. While Stretch was in that hell, she had thought about Sally, the girl who escaped and upended their tormentors lives. Oh how she craved the strength of that miss Sally, and now here they are in person. So what if the flowers symbolize the ever growing affection, the little crush she gone and developed? The second Sally finds out about that they’re fixed to marry. Nobody’s invited but Sally’s two cats, out in the little field at Sally’s private homestead, no technology or roadways, where nobody can ever track her. It’s sad, but it’s peaceful, and a lot less lonely once her wife joins her.

[ofthehands]

Just rewatched Saw V. That crushing trap was brutal, sure am glad Lindsey was there to get her partner out of there. I'd be sad if anything terrible happened to my favorite cunty little FBI agents.

[ofthehands]

I've been primarily TCM posting here but I just made my beloved friends watch all the saw movies with me once again so look out for sawposting lol

[ofthehands]

TCM Ship Week @maskemasker

Day 4 Prompt Anniversary

Mr Sawyer and Mr Hardesty, together since 1973

[ofthehands]

TCM Ship Week @maskemasker

Day four prompt: Anniversary

Ship: Lefton (Drayton Sawyer x Lefty Enright)

A wedding in their thirties, in the quiet fields out back. Playing happy family ‘til Lefty couldn’t take any more of the violence, the sacrilege, the being controlled; he left just shy of five years in. A marriage sealed in blood and which wasn’t at all legal to begin with can’t be annulled though. Both still wears their rings, and Drayton at least celebrates every anniversary.

[ofthehands]

Bite ☺️

[ofthehands]

Woof 🐺

[ofthehands]

RAIN

[ofthehands]

TCM Ship Week @maskemasker

Day 2 Prompt: Date Night

Ship: Franklin Hardesty and Nubbins Sawyer

Shitty Moodboard I made ⬆️

Nubbins and Franklin we're out on the road, the world getting close to midnight. Nubbins pushed his boyfriend down the road, the wheels squeaking under the rough floor and the small peddles.

They got near a 7 11 that had been advertised on a small billboard a couple minutes back. The lights were very bright to make sure it stood out, and Nubbins had an idea. He had stolen 15 bucks from some poor, dead fuck's wallet. He figured he and Franklin could stop for a bite.

"Hey Frankie."

"What?" Franklin responded rather sleepy.

"I'll...I'll buy ya' somethin'!" He cheered.

Franklin looked over at the store and sighed.

"Oh Nubbins, it's late. Just take me home."

"B-But I want to buy you somethin'!" He yelled suddenly, right in his boyfriend's ear to wake him up.

"I...I-I got 15 bucks!"

"Oh alright. Just get your snack and then we can leave."

"N-N-No!" He exclaimed loudly in large disapproval, shaking his head quickly. "I-I want to get you somethin' so y-you can eat it! W-W-Want to buy you somethin'!"

"Alright then, big shot. Take me on a date."

Nubbins didn't need be told twice. He did a couple of happy hops before violently pushing his chair off the road towards the small building.

The door rung to signal the entrance, the half asleep cashier suddenly wide awake as a tall lanky man with a pretty boy in a wheelchair came in rather roughly.

Nubbins moved the wheelchair through the aisles, getting shushed by Franklin who didn't want to be too loud. Eventually, they got a large Dr Pepper, jalapeño chips, two small cheeseburgers and a Recess's bar. They went outside with their treats in Franklin's lap, and Nubbins grinning at how much of a gentleman he was.

They found a small bench, Nubbins excitedly sitting down and rolling Franklin closer to him.

"I-I-I didn't know you liked c-cheeseburgers, Frankie!"

He always liked watching Franklin eat. He liked watching him eat human flesh at first, but then that just developed into watching him eat all together.

"Well, I don't get 'em as often." Franklin humored, thinking about what he usually eats now.

Nubbins excitedly opened up his greasy, low quality burger and stuffed jalapeño chips inside. Franklin chuckled at him, watching the ends of the of the chips fall into the floor as he bit into the rather small burger.

"You're so messy."

Nubbins turned to laugh too, causing some pieces of chips to fall out of his mouth. Before he could be scolded by Franklin for his manners, he managed to cover his mouth so he could chew it down.

Franklin laughed at that too, then he took a large sip of the ice cold Dr Pepper. Nubbins had forgotten to get a cap and a straw, so he tried his best to not spill it all over himself.

"Hehehehehehehe."

Before Franklin could ask what he was laughing at, Nubbins and leaned forward and gently tipped the cup up, causing the soda to come down Franklin's throat suddenly and from his mouth.

He quickly pulled the drink down and began coughing violently, covering his mouth and trying to push the Dr Pepper out of his mouth. Some of the soda fell onto the floor under his wheelchair. Poor Franklin coughed some more, and the turned around to look over at his very much laughing-extremely-loudly boyfriend.

"You...you...you nitwit!"

Nubbins kept laughing at the familiar insult his older brother often threw at him. He continued laughing until Franklin wiped the soda off his mouth and fake pouted, crossing his arms and turning to the side and trying his best not to laugh as well.

"I-I was just playing with you, baby!" He said the name that he knew made Franklin sorta red.

"Oh you're so mean." Franklin did a dramatic voice. "Trynna kill me so you can eat me!"

Nubbins giggled, standing up and walking closer to him. He rested his body on his arms, leaning on the arm rails of the wheelchair and pushing his grinning face in front of his boyfriend's.  

He waited for Franklin to acknowledge him, but he could tell after a couple seconds that Franklin wasn't gonna unless he apologized. But he could also see the glitter of enjoyment in his eyes and the slight upturn of his lips.

Nubbins looked at his lips. Then got an idea.

"Maybe I will eat ya!"

Before Franklin could question or protest, Nubbins had caught his lips quickly and began kissing him. Franklin's eyes widened, and he tried acting still so Nubbins wouldn't think he forgave him. God how he liked playing with him. But unfortunately for him, Nubbins had become good at kissing the more they did it.

So Franklin couldn't help but kiss him back, just a little. Also, he might break Nubbins' heart.

Nubbins began giggling against him once Franklin kissed him back. And then they kept on kissing. Kissing and kissing as Nubbins got even more excited the more he acknowledged his handsome boyfriend was kissing him.

He got even closer to him, almost putting his knee on his lap. He slightly tilted the Dr Pepper cup still in Franklin's hand, causing some of the soda to fall on his leg. That's what broke Franklin out of his trance. And then he realized Nubbins' tongue tasted like jalapeño chips.

He tried to ignore it, trying to deepen the kiss. But then he sorta broke away to breath and he tasted the normal air. When Nubbins brought him back up, he realized he couldn't handle the taste anymore.

"Nubbins." He tried pushing him away by his chest, but Nubbins pulled back against his arms and kept kissing. 

"Nubbins!" He called out again, grabbing his cheeks and pushing his face away.  

"W-What? W-Whats wrong? D-D-Did I h-hurt you, Frankie?"

"What? No! But your breath stinks."

Nubbins looked at him confused, putting his hand on his mouth.

"How?"

"Those darn jalapeño chips!"

"I though you l-liked jalapeño c-c-chips, Frankie!"

"No not really."

"But why didn't you t-t-tell me at the s-store?! I...I could have gotten somethin' b-better for you!"

"Oh don't beat yourself over it, I like you just fine still."

"B-But my b-breath stinks!"

"And I still like you!"

Nubbins thought about how romantic that was, before thinking about how to clean his breath so that they could continue kissing. A lightbulb went out.

"I-I'll be back!"

He ran off before Franklin could say anything.

Franklin got a little nervous of being all alone in the dark, in a random store with no way to run. He put his food to the side and looked on nervously at the door. But then he remembered he literally lived in a house full of corpses with a crazy group of brothers.

The 7 11 cashier was confused on why the lanky man was so eager to buy mentos, but I wasn't his job to question it. Franklin smiled once Nubbins came out of the door, and smiled with his teeth when he got closer and showed what he had.

Nubbins ran up and sat on Franklin's lap, making the wheelchair squeak a little bit.

"Oh Nubbins!" He laughed. 

"W-Want you to k-k-keep kissing me!"

He popped five of the mentos into his mouth and began chewing it. His face squished in disgust at the mint, remembering the strawberry toothpaste him and Bubba had to use in order to brush their teeth.

"I should have gotten the strawberry ones, big shot."

Nubbins was too busy chewing to respond. He put his hand over his mouth once he swallowed it to avoid gagging it out.

"I'm r-ready!"

Nubbins wrapped his arms around his neck and began kissing him once again. Franklin giggled as he tasted the new minty flavor in his tongue. He felt Nubbins excitedly kicking his feet, his hand gripping a small curl on Franklin's hair.

He gripped Nubbins' waist once he realized Nubbins was getting extremely excited. He always did whenever they hugged or kissed, and he never minded it. However, it became uncomfortable since Nubbins was squirming on his lap, and was moving his wheelchair uncomfortably.

"Calm down."

"W-What?"

"Calm down. You're rocking my wheelchair!"

"Oh o-okay!"

Nubbins was breathing heavily, but he knew what he meant by calm down. He tried to calm his breath, and then quickly dove back in and tried to kiss him again.

"No no, calm down!"

Nubbins sulked, but took a few seconds to commit to it. After he beloved fully he was calmed down, he made sure to give him an extra slow kiss. He felt Franklin smile on his lips, and he knew he did a good job of calming down.

They pecked at each other for a little bit more, before Nubbins pulled away to look at his boyfriend's pink cheeks.

They then finished their burgers, Nubbins still sitting on his lap. When Nubbins was going to take a sip of the Dr Pepper, he put his entire hand on top of Franklin's face, sorta concerned he will try to choke him. When Franklin then took a sip of the soda, he covered his mouth and nose with his much larger hand. Nubbins giggling through his palm.

After finishing their snack, the Dr Pepper almost finished, they were finally ready.

"W-Want to g-g-go home now?"

"Yeah, it's getting late."

He finally hopped off his lap, throwing away their trash in the nearby trash can. Still with their Dr Pepper, they finally got back on the road.

"Thank you, Nubs."

"F-F-For what?"

"Feeding me, and buying stuff so I could kiss ya'."

"Hehehe...I-I like taking you on d-d-dates! I-I-I'm gonna take y-you on more d-d-dates!"

"Aww...I'll love too."

"Hehe...hehehe."

They made the long ride back.

[ofthehands]

TCM Ship Week @maskemasker

Day two prompt: Date Night

Ship(s): Franknub (Franklin Hardesty x Nubbins Sawyer)

Word Count: ~1,800

Warnings: implied homophobia, implied ableism, and internalized ableism.

—————

Franklin points up at the sky, squinting one big blue eye as if that’ll help him see better, “That one there, you see it?”

“N-No.” Nubbins, perched on the edge of a toppled over tree, looks at the sky with frustration, unable to make out a single shape he’s supposed to all night, even with the fancy telescope they fashioned up.

Trying to guide him, Franklin takes his hand and aims it towards where he needs to look, “Right there. The one that ain’t a perfect circle.”

“Uh… they all l-looks kinda l-like ‘at.” But that ain’t the best frame of reference for a blind in one eye, definitely also has an astigmatism on top of the cataract, fella. Nubbins is totally confused and it shows in his expression.

They’d been neighbors all their lives, lucky too cause then Franklin’s really the only one that can read those expressions ‘a his well. But that might have more to do with loving him these past few years. Understanding Nubbins is the easiest thing about all this, probably. It’s avoiding letting a single other soul find out that’s stressful.

Sometimes Franklin feels damn lucky the Sawyers don’t get out much, never talkin’ to the neighbors even ‘til him and Nubbins started runnin’ the same paths. Well. Wheelin’ ‘n runnin’.

Findin’ the time to be away from nosy brothers and religious zealot parents over home and all the buzz of their two twin farms gets tougher the older Nubbins gets. For Franklin, life seems the same all the time even now, seems like he’s been treated with the same combination smotherin’ and disinterest since he was old ‘nough to propel his own chair. It’s Nubbins gettin’ heaps and heaps of more responsibility the closer his big brother gets to elderly.

You ask him and he’d say he’s already the man of the house, ‘tween Drayton gettin’ so old and emotionally explosive he’s losin’ his touch on the charmin’ persona for the station down the road, but someone needin’ to watch after nervous Bubba. Nubbins fancies ‘imself a certified triple threat for that.

Part time decision maker, babysitter, and he’s got a super secret boyfriend? Man grows up his whole life without much to call his own, he starts gettin’ real possessive of roles and traits that way.

Franklin knows, if somethin’ ever happened to the older Sawyer and it was all left to Nubbins, shit would crumble faster’n he’d even realize he was s’posed to be doin’ anythin’. But he lets Nubbins ride those little dust clouds of egotism, for the sake of things when he gets to feelin’ the opposite, the boiling frustration like now.

It’s s’posed to be somethin’ of a datenight, settled out here a little ways past the swimming hole, past the trees and real far past what anybody else is thinkin’ they should be doin’ instead. He’ll be gentle with Nubbins’ emotions to keep the peace alright, but more, he thinks he just likes bein’ soft on him.

“Find the little red one, alright? Then count down three from that, and one over.” Franklin guides him patiently, a little nod and a small half-smile reaffirming it’s all fine to need the instructions.

“W-Which way over?” Nubbins clarifies, so anxious to just find the star Franklin is trying to show him up in the sky that he’s risen to his feet, bouncin’ on his heels.

“Towards me.”

“One.. t-two-“

Nubbins suddenly turns his eyes away from the sky with a disappointed look, thinkin’ he didn’t find it, “Is it s-s’posed t’ look all pointy like ‘at?”

All too happy to tell him he’d seen the right thing, Franklin shares the basics he’d learned from his time scouring astrology books and magazines with Pam, “Sorta, yeah. That’s Polaris. It’s the only star that don’t move ever.”

He could get into star patterns and formation the way those things affect humans and the earth and planes and all, but he’ll keep it easy enough to grasp for now.

No point in confusing Nubbins when he already turns to ask eagerly, eyes shinin’ with a new kind of wonder, “St-Stars can move?”

Sometimes Franklin forgets just exactly how much Nubbins was let down in his education, bein’ tutored at home by his brother don’t even know how to spell. No way they made it to teachings on the solar system ‘fore he was just made to work for the slaughterhouse with the basics.

“The whole earth does. We spin in circles all the day long. That’s why the sun moves around us.” Franklin explains it, hoping it makes sense if he don’t make it too complicated.

Still Nubbins argues using the knowledge he does have, “N-No, th-that’s ‘cause it’s day and.. a-and night.”

Franklin tries to have an encouraging tone, “Right, day and night comes from the earth spinnin’.”

Nubbins’ looks back up at the sky, his eyes gettin’ real wide and full with wonder as the information sinks in slowly, “Woah..”

Without looking away from the sky, he inches his hand over to Franklin’s, fumbling to find it with shaky fingers, to hold his hand as he watches the sky. There ain’t any change, for the whole time he just watches, but he seems impressed or he wouldn’t pay it so much mind. Doesn’t typically give things he don’t like the time of day.

That interest and excitement makes Franklin excited too, deciding to share more, “You see all them stars ‘round the bright one?”

“S-Some.” Nubbins nods, squinting his bad eye to see them all a little better. He sinks down on his haunches next to Franklin’s wheelchair, laying his cheek against his knee with his eyes still directed up at the sky. Like getting more on his level will make it easier to see the way he does.

“Those’re the dogs.” Franklin traces the line of the constellation with a floating hand, the other staying firmly planted against the top of Nubbins’ greasy head, petting his hair as he speaks, “Atima atchakosuk is their real fancy name, but they’re just dogs.”

“Th-They’s stars.” His tone says it all, Nubbins thinks that’s silly and he’s correctin’ Franklin.

Unphased, Franklin guides him through seeing the constellation shapes, “Well start there, and follow it. Don’t that kinda look like a leash, leading to some stars? That’s the handler walking the dogs around Polaris.”

“B-But you can’t lives in th-the sky.”

“Not yet. But maybe when our souls travel up there.”

“M-Mine stayin’ right where it is. L-Like my Gramma!” Nubbins gives a little giggle as he rises up to his knees, so he can turn a little and look Franklin unwaveringly in his eyes to make a promise, “D-Don’t worry, Frankie. I won’t let your s-soul float a-a-away when we die.”

Not exactly the most comforting sentiment.

“Might be nice, though. Wanderin’ above the clouds. Just ridin’ the breeze, no wheelchair in sight.” Franklin sighs. That’s been a thought of his for a long time. ‘Bout magic takin’ away his trouble. At first, he’d thought the idea was silly, didn’t have no trouble with adaptin’ and all. Then he started public school and well. Kinda self-explanatory when and why he started hatin’ his chair.

The difference between him and Nubbins is, that only one of ‘em ever left the home for schooling, got exposed to the harsh words of peers. Not that there weren’t plenty other evil words bein’ spewed like venom through Nubbins’ childhood, but none of them just so happened to be towards wheelchair users. He don’t see a thing different about Franklin, to the point of sometimes forgettin’ his wheelchair can’t just climb stairs and keep up the pace. Could understand a little better, but it’s still nicer than hatin’ him for fallin’ behind.

Matter of fact, he outright dislikes what Franklin’s sayin’ about himself.

“I-I don’ th-think that’s nice..”

Still, Franklin figures Nubbins oughta get it deep down, bein’ that he’s been called all kinds’a bad things in his life too. The movements he does, the things he thinks and says outta nowhere, all showing he don’t think the same as folks like Sally or strangers on the street. Franklin knows instead Nubbins is really like him, like the folks he grew up with in special classes. Should get why he wants to just fly once.

Guess he assumed wrong about everyone has some shame about that no matter what. That hits him hard and clammy like his head got dunked in the rain barrel, so he questions, “You never wondered about if things was different?”

“N-Nuh uh.” Nubbins immediately confirms with a little shake of his head.

Now it’s Franklin’s turn to be all confused and frustrated, can’t just accept it. “Not even maybe you coulda been born to a diffr’nt family?”

Turnin’ away from the sky again, Nubbins puts his feelings plainly, “B-But how could I m-meeted you if I weren’t ya neighbor?”

Franklin knows his face is burnin’ as bright red as whatever distant little planet that is up there in the sky.

“Oh, I can’t be all that important.”

Nubbins affirms that he is though, with one simple, honest sentence, “Don’t got n-no one else.”

Oh Lord, he’s swooning. Franklin knows he’s a fool in love, but he’ll let his heart win this battle. Don’t got time to care about nothin’ but that he’s the one person Nubbins got, and Nubbins is his person. Like they was always meant to be together. Written in the stars maybe.

He taps the top of Nubbins’ head to get him to focus his way again, but realizes he don’t know how he’s s’posed to work up the nerve to ask for a kiss now that he’s lookin’ him in his eyes. Lucky for him, when Franklin stars blushin’, and surely he is right now, Nubbins likes to burst up and give him a million kisses all over his warm face. Kinda gross when he thinks about the amount of spit Nubbins actually gets all over him, but he’ll forgive him ‘cause at least he’s tryin’ to be sweet.

Franklin oughta persuade him int’ comin’ out here some more for this view. Nice to watch the sky and all, but not gettin’ screamed at by Nubbins’ brother for stayin’ too late is also nice for a change. Could be they don’t gotta float up in the sky, far away from Texas, to make life different. Could just run off sometime ‘stead of stayin’ on such a short leash.

Maybe he’ll bring it up soon.

[ofthehands]

TCM Ship Week @maskemasker

Day 1: Clothes Swap

Ship: Lefton

Word Count: 2,500

Warnings: Thoughts of violence, canon typical attitudes, lighthearted attempted murder, and general Sawyerisms

It was hard to say how exactly it had come to all this. How his parents’ attempt at socializing Drayton a little so he wasn’t a complete freak and could keep up appearances when cops came sniffing around, had led to his… problem with the neighbor boy. But somehow, that single silly misstep had led to a whole world of trouble. 

It wasn’t that big of a problem when they were teens at least. Then it had been nothing but a dangerous game of chicken- getting closer- brushing against one another- seeing who would pull away first. The issue came when while they were drunk on his old man’s stolen liquor, Enright had moved to press their lips together, and Drayton hadn’t thought to pull away at all. Drunk he didn’t think too much about it, but try as they might, they couldn’t stay drunk forever. 

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. 

But it did. And they couldn’t exactly pretend it was a game anymore. 

So from that point on, they both treated it a little more seriously. Both in earnesty and fear. They both knew damn well that this thing between them would have to be kept hidden. Close to their chests. But Drayton was good at keeping secrets anyways. 

It didn’t have to be significant. Eventually, certainly, Enright would move on- find a girl to be with and forget all of whatever the hell this was. Or at least that’s how it should’ve gone. Would’ve gone too, if Drayton weren’t the unluckiest bastard to ever walk the Earth. 

As it did happen, Enright got… fixated. In some strange way. Determined it was more than some fucked up childish thing they were doing. Convinced it was something sinful, and horrible, but in some way real. Drayton was alright with that- maybe he could convince Enright to see his way- convince him that the Sawyer family way was right- since he was interested in the unnatural and sinful. But suddenly, without so much as a goodbye, he up and disappeared for a few months. Drayton figured he finally found something better- something real- and decided to stop fooling around like they had been. Until one day Enright had the nerve to show back up, meeting him at the gas station, proudly wearing a uniform that marked him as something much more horrible than a bit queer. Drayton felt like he might faint right then and there. He knew then they had no future together, no life where happiness could be theirs. 

In the time he was away, Lefty had become a cop. 

“Sawyer! How’ve you been?” he asked, friendly as ever. 

“Good Lord- Lefty- w- what the hell are you wearin’?” He looked down at that dorky little uniform, his big blue eyes wide with confusion. 

“Well, I uh- I just finished up academy training and now I’m a-”

“A cop,” Drayton finished for him. 

“I mean, yeah, I’m an officer of Muerto County and-”

“What would you wanna go off and turn into a cop for?” Drayton asked, a little more anger in his voice than he probably should’ve let slip. 

“Well I just- I mean- I wanna help people. Protect ‘em. And here in Muerto County we have one of the highest rates of disappearances in the state! Goin’ back to the 1890’s- it’s an epidemic!” Lefty paused for just a moment, giving Drayton time to spiral as he thought about what would happen to him if Lefty kept digging into those disappearances. “That… That ain’t gonna be a problem, is it?” he asked. Drayton tensed up a little, involuntarily. “That I’m a cop?” He knew what he had to do next. 

“What? Oh, nah,” he said, trying to smile, trying to look relaxed. “Just surprised is all. Always thought you’d work with cattle, like your daddy or… or be a preacher or somethin’.” Lefty smiled, a bit more relaxed, and Drayton couldn’t look him in the eye. They talked some more, about something Drayton couldn’t really remember. He just kept thinking about what he had to do next. 

Which was how they ended up where they were. Lefty sound asleep in the Sawyer home’s guest bedroom. Drayton standing over the bed with an axe. Getting ready to do what had to be done. To stop him from becoming a problem. 

He just wished it was easier. Wished he could just do it- like a man- like Grandpa would’ve. Wished Lefty would wake up suddenly and fight him- give him a reason to do it. Wished he wouldn’t smile softly in his sleep. But wishing wasn’t liable to get him anywhere. Drayton had no choice. He had to act. He raised the axe above his head. Lefty moved then- suddenly, and Drayton tensed, got ready to swing- but he didn’t wake up. He wriggled a bit, pushing the blanket down, worming his way up. Too hot. A treacherous fondness settled in Drayton’s chest at that. Lefty found some comfortable spot, still sound asleep, blissfully unaware. He looked small in the simple cotton shirt Drayton had loaned him. Lefty was broad-chested, but short. And that shirt was a bit too big on Drayton. Drayton wondered briefly if he’d ever be able to wear that shirt again. Considering the state it would be in shortly. Then he swung the axe. 

“Psst!!” The sudden noise made him jump out of his skin as quietly as he could, and his axe swing missed, planting the head firmly in the bed frame- only inches from Lefty’s skull. 

“I’ll be up in just a minute,” Lefty muttered, somehow still mostly asleep. Drayton turned, pissed off, glaring at the door. The twins were looking at him there with big eyes, more quiet than they usually were. 

“What the hell do you little rats want?” Drayton whispered, trying his damndest not to yell, despite how much he wanted to. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“The cars with the lights is b-back,” Bobby whispered in turn. Drayton tensed. The cars with the lights. 

“The one that took Daddy-” Nubbins tried. 

“I know,” Drayton snapped, a little louder than he should’ve. “At the house?”

“They’re by the- the cattle guard.” 

“Oh hell. Oh for fuck’s sake-” The house was clean, on the first floor. Drayton had to clean it up to get Lefty in- to lure the other over for dinner and then into bed to kill him. But there were too many bones on the Sawyer property to ever clean up, and if they got into the basement there was too much blood there to ever clean out. Drayton needed to keep them away- to keep them from getting too close. But they had no reason to listen to him and every reason to distrust him. He turned, between the boys and Lefty, trying to figure out his next step. Then he saw Lefty’s little cop uniform. He’d worn it over to show the boys, proud of what he’d gone and done, not realizing they wouldn’t think highly of it. It was silly- at best- a size too big on his vertically challenged frame. But it gave Drayton an idea. He pulled the axe from the bed frame as quietly as he could and passed it to the boys. “Alright, take this downstairs, and I’ll meet you there. There’s somethin’ I gotta do real quick.” 

Drayton felt utterly stupid jingle jangling his way down the stairs in that uniform. He scratched the back of his neck and considered his hair for a moment. They’d made Lefty cut his hair. Would his overgrown hair give him away? The way he spoke? The way he stood? What happened if they realized he wasn’t really Officer Enright? He didn’t know. But he had to do something. So he went out and got in the truck. 

He stopped at the end of the driveway, where the cops were waiting, just lurking in the early light of dawn. He stepped out of the truck and pulled his- well, Lefty’s- belt up, the way cops did. There were two of them, just standing around, looking at something in the brush. Scanning. Looking for something. Drayton swallowed heavily. 

“Howdy fellas,” he said. “What uh- seems to be the problem?” 

“Well, Mr. uh-”

“Enright,” Drayton said. He had to lie- the damn uniform said Enright. He hoped they wouldn’t catch him there- hoped they didn’t know Lefty, hoped he hadn’t said it with too little confidence. 

“Well, Mr. Enright,” the taller of the two said, “We come over here from Hale County on account of somethin’ about a missin’ girl.” Oh hell. 

“Well uh…” If Drayton lied - told them he’d heard nothing about any missing girl- he figured they might get suspicious. “I.. I hate to say it but, we’ve had a lot of disappearances out here… I’m… I’m kind of new on the force, I don’t think I’d be able to help you much with that, but if you head on to Childress-” 

“Oh yeah, we were ‘bout to head on that a way,” said the shorter cop- the one with a cigarette between his stained teeth.  He blew a little smoke at Drayton as he spoke. Drayton had smoked plenty himself as a teen, but that pissed him off anyways. 

“Well,” Then get the hell out of my county- “What’s got you stoppin’ here?” He tried to seem amiable, tried to stifle his nervous laugh, bouncing on his heels a little. He wasn’t sure how well he succeeded. 

“She stopped at a gas station just down the way. Nobody’s seen her up in Childress, from what information the folks at the station gave us- but that was just from callin’ in. We stopped ‘cause this is the first house we seen out here for miles. Seems like somewhere that if somethin’ happened to her car she might’ve gone.” Drayton swallowed. 

“Well, this is my family’s home. Lived here for generations. There ain’t really anybody out here but us. And if a lady’d come by, well I…I’m pretty good with cars, I prob’ly could’ve fixed it up. And if not, I could’ve given her a ride to the station.” The taller one nodded.

“Yeah… We didn’t really know who was livin’ out here, but… knowin’ it’s y’all does make me feel a little better,” the taller one said. 

“You sure there ain’t nobody else around here?” asked the smoker. 

“Positive,” Drayton said. He chuckled a little, “You think I don’t know my own backyard?” The two exchanged a look and Drayton considered for a brief moment trying to grab one’s gun and shooting the other with it, before the taller one spoke up again. 

“Well, I think we’d ought to get out to Childress now. Thanks for talkin’ with us, Enright. And uh, by the way, get a haircut, alright? And maybe some boots that match your uniform.” Drayton hadn’t thought about the shoes- hell. 

“Oh uh- yessir- sorry sir-” Drayton felt embarrassed and he wasn’t even quite sure why. But that seemed to shine through in his face, and they accepted it and moved on. As they drove away Drayton let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, and got back into his truck. 

When he got home the boys hadn’t cut each others’ hands off with the axe and Lefty still seemed to be sound asleep. He snatched the axe from his brothers, putting it too high for the grubby bastards to reach before they got any ideas, and headed up the stairs, trying to quietly return the borrowed clothes. 

He opened the door more delicately than he had ever done before. Lefty was still there. His breathing wasn’t as deep, so Drayton figured he was at least half awake. Drayton slipped in the room, closing the door behind him. He looked around the room, filling with soft morning light. It was peaceful in a way the Sawyer house never really was. It felt like a dream. Like something unreal. He turned, for a moment, and looked at the broken, dusty full length mirror that sat on the floor. His reflection was distorted, by the angle and the dust and the spiderweb cracks across the glass. But he could still see it. It was strange, to see himself in a uniform- especially that uniform. Maybe he could’ve done something like that. Signed up with the cops or the military. Found some way out of this place. But that wasn’t where he belonged, or what he got to have. He was a Sawyer. He would live and die on that farm, with his family. He had no choice to go anywhere else. That was his lot in life. 

Drayton almost jumped out of his skin when Lefty put his arms around him from behind. 

“D’ah- Shit! What in the hell-” He jerked back a little but stopped himself from elbowing his… friend in the jaw. 

“Oh, sorry- didn’t mean to scare you-” Lefty muttered, face pressed to his back, arms wrapped gently behind his waist. Drayton settled a little, despite himself. He moves quiet when he wants to. Good to keep that in mind. “What’re you up to?” Lefty asked. 

“Well uh- I was just- uh…” It was easier to lie to him like this- when he didn’t have to look him in the eyes.  Drayton could just barely see him in the mirror behind him, a bit of Lefty’s mousey hair visible over his shoulder. But Drayton was struggling to think of something to say regardless. Lefty peeked up, looking over Drayton’s shoulder at the mirror. 

“It looks good on you,” Lefty said. “You’d make a fine lookin’ officer.” Drayton outright laughed at that. 

“Yeah, sure, you damn fool.” He turned around, away from that dusty reflection and back to reality. There were things Drayton would’ve liked to have been if he wasn’t a Sawyer. A damn cop wasn’t one of ‘em. He looked down at Lefty, still wearing his too big cotton shirt and ratty old sleepin’ pants. He thought about how close he had come to putting an axe through his skull. Then he kissed him, a quick, gentle peck on the lips. “Alright, that’s enough messin’ around. Let’s get all this switched back.” They exchanged clothes as quickly and modestly as they could, till everything was back to mostly normal. Drayton could still smell Lefty a bit, on that shirt. Feel his warmth. He wondered, with the state it was in, if he’d ever be able to take it off. Then he looked back at Lefty. 

He knew he should probably kill him. Find some way to do it quick, since he had the space and the time and the advantage. That boy was going to cause him a world of trouble one day. He could feel it all the way to his bones. But he could take care of that another day. For the time being, he decided to just enjoy the early morning sun.

[ofthehands]

So I finally posted my Franklin/Nubbins fanfiction, lol. Shout out to the three or so people who might enjoy it, I just had fun writing, even if I’m not confident! I wasn’t so sure about tagging, but there are allusions to violence and animal death, the kind you’d see in the movie.

[ofthehands]

hi!! i discovered your work on ao3, thanks to your actual draculas fic. i finished it three days ago and since then it’s been the only thing i’ve been able to think of!!!

do you know/do you think there will be any more chapters added to the story? is it still a work in progress or is it concluded? regardless, i LOVED it, fanart will most likely be posted about it on my page lol

Hi!! Thank you so much for your comment/ kind words! Actual Draculas is still a work in progress. I have a story plan written out, so I know the ending/ where I want it to go next, but not the meat in the middle so to speak. It's been on a bit of an unofficial hiatus recently due to some irl stuff (including a surgery I had like... Two days ago? Lol) but with time off to heal from surgery I'm excited to have time to work on it again. I expect the next chapter will be out sometime in December, which will be a while, but rn my brains a bit too foggy with pain meds. Thank you for asking, I wanted to update people/ let everybody who enjoyed it know I hadn't abandonded it and this was a perfect opportunity for that haha.

[ofthehands]

Carbolic acid, and a poison face

wordcount: ~7,500

warnings: abuse, physical abuse like slapping and beating, verbal abuse, period typical ableism, incorrect disability terminology, mean-spirited, cannibalism, unknowing cannibalism (tricking into eating people meat), Drayton Sawyer is his own warning.

description: A bond between the Hardesty’s mother, and Drayton, on account of Franklin’s condition. Spina Bifida is thought to be influenced by certain nutrients, including liver enzymes. Let’s say she knew this, and came to the best traders of meat in town; her neighbors, the Sawyers.

Idea proposed by my buddy Leslie over at @pierrot-fish! Thank you for giving me permission to write this based on your thoughts!!

Also on ao3!

____________

The first time anybody realized the Sawyer twins had no sense of what spelled danger, was as soon as they started on walkin’.

First time Drayton found their little cots empty, he just ran. He knew damn well they couldn’t be far, little fuckers still toddling ‘round barely long enough to cross one room. Was halfway between impressed and scared shitless to find them outside. The stronger of the two trying to drag his brother on his knees to the sunflowers to play.

Took ‘em ‘til they were past toddlerhood to get that far, still babbling nonsense but easing into all the affairs usual for almost three year olds. Makes perfect sense the second they was mobile they’d take off for more fun than a couple cloth dolls and wooden figurines could give ‘em. Adventure. ‘Bout to drive Drayton plum fuckin’ crazy with their adventures.

That particular instance knocked his sense out with anxiety so bad he didn’t even beat ‘em for it, just took ‘em back to bed and blocked their door with a few railroad ties and a ratchet strap around the handle.

Give ‘em a few years and he’d take those diapered little bastards over the worse hellions they become any day. ‘Stead of runnin’ off for the at least fenced in backyard, they’s makin’ for the road by five years old.

Their daddy took the same high road and left, just as quick as Drayton’s had, but it don’t seem right, that it’d be instinct to run off in the street. ‘Bout then they hafta admit them boys in general ain’t right.

Drayton’s the first baby of the fam’ly, but he knows from the stories mama tells what they s’posed to act like. Knows better from watchin’ folks ‘round Newt with’n their little ones. Prob’ly seems all kinds ‘a wise, but he’s just the observer- “stay quiet boy!” more’n well instilled in him.

Damn it he knows he’s stubborn, won’t give up that strong arm he were raised up with, but he likes to think he’s easy on them twin boys. When one of ‘em starts screamin’ their head off ‘cause it’s too dark inside the house an’ their itchin’ at their arms an’ worse, they get these headaches ‘hind their eyes, he takes ‘em out to burn off steam.

Won’t never take an eye off them when he ain’t at work, the only time mama or grandma’ll take over that role. That’d just be askin’ for some kinda accident, endin’ in two tiny caskets. Can’t do that again. Bury another kid. Mama done that enough, all her unfortunate pregnancies.

Out front is where the boys like best, ‘cause it’s got room to kick up dust from the driveway. Nubbins is still unsteady on his feet, bumblin’ ‘round like some kind of a deer with brainrot, but his brother’s runnin’ ‘round him in circles, some made up game prob’ly.

In the corner of his eye, he sees movement, figures it to be mama at first returnin’ from wherever the hell she been off to ‘fore the sun shown itself this mornin’. Flash of blondish-hair tells ‘im it ain’t.

Got a good knife for skinnin’ next to him on the stoop, crawlin’ his hands toward it slow-like fore he freezes entirely. Just the neighbor woman, swollen up pregnant from the looks of it, creeps her way forward, ignoring the boys past a faint smile. Hard, when they’re both squealin’ like hogs, but she manages. She’s gunnin’ straight for Drayton on some mission she’d already decided.

“Mr Sawyer? I don’t hope to be a bother, intrudin’ and all-“

“Don’t call me that-” Drayton touts, on the defense, before he catches himself. Clearing his throat halfway through, he stiffens out, feigning pleasantries, “Pardon. My grandfather, he’s the man of the house. Ain’t got enough wisdom goin’ ‘round to be callin’ myself by no honor-ifics. You- You call me Drayton now, ma’am.”

Neighbor woman gives him a nod, but it’s soft around the edges, ain’t a commitment. “Alright, Drayton then. You might know me as your next door neighbor. Mister Enright’s daughter.”

Wary, Drayton tries to get a glimpse at her cards ‘fore she plays ‘em.

“I know your business anyhow. Was our meat kept Newt from sinkin’, but I figure it’s y’all with the- the wool trade and the plants y’all got, that’s what’s doin’ any good.”

Much as he might hate the playin’ nice with strange folk, he’ll always hate the killin’ worse, so he’ll keep doin’ it. Prob’ly makes him seem honest anyhow, talkin’ down on his own trade like that, though this Enright girl don’t know the details she thinks she does.

“Oh, it hardly brings money.” She waves it away, hand coming to sit at the junction of her belly. Guess he assessed it right then, that she’s with child.

“Don’t I know it. That slaughterhouse, it’s rotten work, miss. Cain’t never scrub clean of it. Don’t like it, but it’s gotta be done. Way of the world, I s’pose.”

“That’s exactly why I’m here Mister- um.. Drayton.”

Now that certainly gives him pause. Goes stiff as a bloated corpse himself, “No, no, no ain’t a woman’s- Don’t mean no disrespect- my grandmother, this business put her through Hell, workin’ her til’ her bones was as weak as the beeves after their bout in the freezer. Women-folks is good for that kind of ruin.”

“No, I’m not looking for work. You see I’m with child-“ If she heard Drayton scoff, on account of already knowin’ such, she ignores it, feedin’ him the explanation she’d clearly done practiced, “My baby, they’ve done all sorts of tests on me, and they think my little one’s gonna be brought up sick.”

Ain’t gonna lie and say that doesn’t remind him of his own brothers. The gaunt little creatures they always‘ve been. Mama’s mama took one look at the shape of her belly and knew they was tangled up in there wrong, and what d’ya know, nine months later one of em come out with the damn cord ‘round his throat. Figure gettin’ an actual hospital involved oughta be even more of a science by now.

“..That right?”

Frazzled woman she is, starts a ramblin’, “Yessir. There’s this curse on our family, been around since at least my dear great auntie. Spina Bifida they call it. I don’t want my baby to be that way. We bless the memory of the others with it and love ‘em every day but, it’s the pain I want to avoid for my little one. Oh Drayton, could you imagine the fear of losin’ your boys before you even knew ‘em?”

This time his scoff is more like a barely choked back laugh. “My boys? You think them rotten twins is my boys. Woman you’re mistaken outright, those are-“

“Your brothers. Yessir, I understand that much, but it’s you raised ‘em up so well. I remember hearin’ their wailing from down the way, look at ‘em now and you’d never know what they went through. That’s what I want for my baby.” She pleads with him, reaching both of her hands for one of his.

Drayton lets her hold ‘em there for a moment, before slipping out of her grasp. His arms curl into his body like a mantis, easing off the greasy feelin’ of skin to skin contact on his dry cotton shirt.

“I don’t s’pose you think I got some fancy medical degree.”

At first she seems baffled, until it hits her she never finished her explanation before lettin’ her emotions build up too far, “I’m here about the meat, remember? They say it’s something with the liver that’s low. My body is deprivin’ the baby as it is. Some essential parts from the meat might help. And I’d like to buy some from y’all here.”

“Well that, I can do. Yes, ma’am.”

Out of that little request comes a deal, and a friendship.

It surprises Drayton that she keeps comin’ back, after skippin’ off with her prize in crumpled brown butcher paper the first time. Figures it’s either helpin’, or she’s convincin’ herself it is, to come back and deal with his attempts at social interaction. Not like socializin’ is easy when for him, it usually ends in untimely demise.

As far as his expectations, this arrangement only gonna last ‘til the end of her nine months, and considerin’ she was halfway along when they first met, it ain’t too long now.

The hope is just that it ain’t too late, gettin’ these things in her body to save that little baby.

Next couple times she comes, he learns her name is Gloria. She crochets tiny sized blankets and clothes to decorate a baby’s nursery in her free time. And she don’t have any intentions of just takin’ her medicine and leavin’ well enough alone.

It’d damn be rude to turn her comp’ny away. Plus it don’t hurt to have a hand with the boys, since ain’t another Sawyer gonna lift a finger to do it. Only one that would is Gramma and she’s been gone, at least mentally, a while now, bless her heart.

Gloria wasn’t trained on dolls the way plenty of little girls is how to change diapers and mix bottles and all that, or maybe that’s her excuse to spend more and more time over the house and practice it on the twins.

Probably so, since Drayton clues in on a secret- This far along, she’s gettin’ antsy for peace.

A fine hair brush in her hand, she’s tendin to the twins’ hair after they got into the jagger bush and got it all tangled up. But she’s talking to Drayton while she works it through, “You sir, don't seem like you’ve ever been afraid of anythin’.”

“Missy, been afraid so long I don’t got nothin’ to show for it.” He kicks at little Robert’s tiny boot gently as he goes to sit down, but the boy lunges up to retaliate, wailing on Drayton’s shin with tiny toddler fists and screamin’ nonsense. The adults ignore it except for adjusting their volume, “‘Tween the boys poppin’ out with no heartbeats to fightin’ every day to keep ‘em goin’, jus’ don’t think I feel much at all no more.”

“Was hopin’ you’d say somethin’ a little less glum. Is that selfish?” There's these deep purple halos of exhaustion under her eyes. Drayton looks away from her when she looks up at him and downright pleads, “I just can’t do it alone.”

Feels wrong, somethin’ about bein’ civil with her at all, let alone bein’ her shrink. But the girl’s got a good heart and Drayton knows he’d be a damn fool to bruise it on purpose ‘stead of bein’ a friend. Still, a little distance is customary.

“Hell, now you got yourself a brother or two and a nice little husband. A mama and a papa too. You’re set, little lady, don’t wanna know nothin’ about ‘alone.’”

She sends Nubbins along and calls Robert back from his battle his big brother’s attention, brushing through his hair next. Each tangle that manages to undo is like another tug at the plug keepin’ all her worries welled in, “I’m still the only one carryin’ this little one. And when my baby is born, if this didn’t fix it... I don’t know.. I’m half convinced they’ll reach right on up in me and take away my chance at ever havin’ a second child if I mess this one up.”

An idea so ridiculous strikes Drayton he downright chuckles, “Get my mama as your midwife ‘n there’ll be shotguns up their asses ‘fore they could even try all that.”

Gloria seems to take it serious, “But she knows what it’s like. Maybe it could be for the best.”

“Mama don’t actually know a damned thing about parenting her own childr’n. Stand up for just about anyone, ‘cept her own little boys. Best you can do is promise me now, girl, you ain’t gonna treat yours that way.” Was it bitterness and anger that caused the wobble in his words, addin’ years to his voice that he ain’t even lived yet? That and a little bit of grief over what he never had.

“Not ever. I wouldn’t be livin’ off half raw beef livers and about ten glasses of orange juice a day if I felt that way.” When Gloria promises it, he knows it’s true. That girl couldn’t lie if she had to. “I really am tryin’. I’ll be honest and say, if it weren’t for the desperation I wouldn’t have bothered comin’ out this far. Long time ago your grandfather made it clear we wasn’t to trespass.”

‘Course he would. Don’t got much say on the matter now without the strength to get up outta his chair. Drayton waves it off, “Grandpa don’t know what he’s talkin’ bout neither. You jus’ keep on. Eat the soft parts, the fillin’s, ‘n your body gonna be alright. I always say the parts that goes to waste is the best of it anyhow, folks just like the feel of that other stuff.”

“Lord, I see why. how do y’all keep that down on the regular?”

“Well I could give you the recipe book… Or- Hell, woman you’re ‘bout burstin’, the hell’s I thinkin’- I’ll fix somethin’ special up for ya, get that little one strong. Don’t got long now ‘til it’s here.”

Her faint smile slips away further ‘til her expression is mostly a grimace. “Don’t I know it, God almighty.”

“You religious, huh?” Drayton wonders before his sense can kick in to remind him it’s inappropriate to ask that. His attention slips down to the floor, to the game his brothers started playin’ with their hands, to avoid looking at her, in the case that she gets all offended.

It’s well known the Enrights are Godly folk, probably why Grandpa was so curt with them those years back. The Sawyers seen it as a fairy tale all along, refusing to fill their children’s heads with such things. All they believe in is the power of the sledge, though miss Gloria Enright probably counts as a convert of that belief, since she’s the one eatin’ the gizzards for the sake of her child.

And it’s true she ain’t as devout to the Lord as the rest of her family, giving a bashful sort of shrug, “Not the way you’d think. Not the way the others is.”

“Smart girl.” He gives the faintest smile, voice lilted with a special bit of pride. Good to know she’s gonna hold her own even after this kid is born and she’s on her own again.

But it seems to shock her, when she ain’t bein’ talked town to after admitting that defiance. She questions, “You don’t believe?”

The twins get up and run off, losing any sense of interest in sitting around listening to this, even though the hairbrush is still tangled up in Bobby’s inky hair. Drayton hears one of them coughin’ through their laughter in the next room over, wheezin’ when he tries to scream with the other. Makes up his mind perfectly well, “Can’t. Could never grasp why any child would be afflicted that way if the man upstairs could help it.”

“Havin’ this sickness around us brought us together though.” She points out gently. Her stomach has gotten too big to lean over much, but she manages to nudge Drayton in his shoulder. It’s a friendly gesture, but it causes him to tense up anyhow, averse to touch.

His question is fittingly bitter. “That worth it?”

“I dunno. You tell me, Drayton Sawyer.”

Turns out it’s unavoidable. Worth it or not they gotta deal with what comes.

He gets the phone call in October.

“So it worked, heh? Don’t figure you’d be callin’ me up if the news were bad.”

Egotism aside, he should’ve noticed Gloria’s sniffles as he answered, the background noise devoid of a baby's cries.

She snaps him into that reality quick with a brutal sob, “You’d be wrong then. Oh, you got no idea Mr. Sawyer- Drayton- I can't call nobody else. I just can’t tell ‘em yet.”

Now that’s got him thinkin’ the worst, gone from leanin’ against the gossip bench to snappin’ bolt upright, spine stiff against the expected tide of grief, “Well? You gonna tell me then?”

At least her panic ain’t so severe she cain’t explain it, gettin’ some answers out between her anguish. “My baby. He got it too. I knew it as soon as they started pullin’ ‘im out ‘cause of the pouch on his back, got all caught up.”

“Don’t reckon I know ‘bout that, girl.”

“Lord, you don’t want to. It’s just horrific. The baby, his little spine is well- it’s formed wrong- that’s.. that’s what the disease does, the spine don’t fuse. Now there’s fluid on the outside like some God-awful vicious blister. But that’s his feeling; the movement in his legs, the nerves, it’s all bundled up in there and it ain’t able to work. They’s doin’ a surgery on ‘im now, won’t see him ‘til the morning.”

Well he can imagine it clearly just from that. For a long minute Drayton just sits there dumbfounded by it. Can’t imagine any world so cruel where a woman can know the probable cause and do her damndest to fight it, and still end up this way. And to be neighbors with a woman like his mother that goes around spreadin’ her sort of sickness on purpose. Makes him feel sick and shaky and clammy all over.

“I’ll send y’all my prayers.” He chokes out attempted sympathies, knowin’ that’s what she’d hear from her folk if she called them.

Only, she didn’t call them. She called Drayton and that was certain deliberate. “No. No you ain’t sendin’ nothin’. I need a friend. My only friend. To be here.”

Drayton knows already he’ll be there by the end of the night, but murmurs all the same, “See what I can do.”

Lucky Gloria can read him just as easy.

“...Could you bring the boys? They’d probably love to see the baby.”

Feels like another wave of the cruelty they been drownin’ in to remind her of their disease. Transferable, unlike some deformity. Normally he’d be agitated, but he can’t blame the woman for focusin’ on a different issue when it came and fell right in her womb the way it did.

“They’ll just get ‘im sick.”

“Oh that’s right... But you’ll come, won’t ya?” She sounds awfully hopeful through the static of distance.

He’s already to his feet and grabbing his hat with the phone held up by his shoulder, as he answers, “I said I’ll see.”

Of course he had come then, with leftovers from supper. Gloria never stopped crying that day even over chicken soup. Or for the next few months, for that matter. Could’ve gotten a diagnosis of her own for that, were she willing, but she didn’t leave her home, didn’t dare risk exposing her poor baby to a world that would be so cruel to him already. Not until his surgery scars healed anyhow.

Unlike Drayton with the twins, she couldn’t set that boy off on his own. Can’t roll over on his own, or kick his legs or sit up. Ain’t just walkin’ he’ll never do.

She names the kid after her father, but that seems about awfully cruel when the bastard won’t even hold the child. Drayton’s got the kid on his front porch ‘fore the rest of his own family cares to know him.

The twins are just about five now and a lot behind most kids their age, but they think the kid is a doll. Nobody knows it yet, but when their baby brother comes along in half of another year, they’ll treat him the same, except with actually bein’ allowed to hold him.

Drayton won’t let them close to the Hardesty boy, not willing to run that risk.

Gloria finds it terrible, startin’ when she witnesses him backhand Nubbins for snaking past him to get his sick little hands on that innocent little, already broken baby.

Her view of him changes from that day on.

Except whether or not he’s a good friend, or even a good person, he’s still a friend, and he’s the only one she can confidently say doesn’t hate her for havin’ a fucked up kid.

So they drink sweet tea in the dry heat and let their kids play together every Sunday, once they’re all old enough, when the rest of her family is at church and Gloria stays home with Franklin, on account of his little wheelchair not fittin’ in between the rows of pews. Might get away with sitting him in some corner if he weren’t such a sensitive kid. Wanted to be close with his mama all the time.

Little Franklin never did have a chance to not be attached to her at the hip. Fragile heart barely concealed by a crippled body, a family that turned their back on him all except a few. Despite his mama bein’ reserved with the Godliness in her time, that kid clings to it like a lifeline. Prays and prays over every little mistake and bump in the road under his wheels. Scared to death he’s gonna be struck down and cursed over nothin’.

Drayton wonders if he should feel responsible for that. Gettin’ his mama involved in the family’s business the way he did by feeding her that horrible meat. If maybe the kid was cursed and he’d been the one to do it.

At least he knows who’s protectin’ him. Won’t ever play for more than a few minutes before he’s he’s throwin’ looks over his mama’s way to make sure she’s got an eye on him. Smart as he is anxious.

“Don’t know whatchu was so worried about. Your boy's doin’ just fine in that new little chair.” Drayton encourages her, when the kid ages out of his first wheelchair into one he can steer all on his own.

Takes him a while to adjust to playin’ with the growin’ twins, but he manages it, somehow. They treat the front yard like it’s the size of outer space, just tearin’ the hell out of it while they run and run. Or wheel, for that matter.

Gloria narrows her eyes at Drayton but don’t turn his way, attempting to hide that grimace in her glass, “Mm. Well I’d say the same but it ain’t quite true.”

“I hear you there.” Drayton sighs too hard it hurts his bones, exhaustion settled deep in them from workin’ all the mornin’, all the while his littlest, but no longer exactly small in his toddler years, brother stays hanging off of him. “If it ain’t the twins fallin’ half-witted and diseased it’s the baby wailin’ his damn head off.”

Here comes the reason for the tension she’s been swallowing back with watered down tea. “You oughta get them checked, fallin’ behind so bad. Or at least the baby.”

“He’s fine.” Drayton dismisses the idea immediately.

Only he knows it ain’t true. Just don’t got the money to do anything about it.

Gloria, she had them doctors tellin’ her how to fix her baby all from a couple tests. Advice that costed her thousands, and the boy was still born wrong. Can’t go takin’ that risk when it would end them up in the poorhouse. The boys’d get treated alright, but they’d get turned over to the state if he couldn’t pay the bills for it. Maybe he’s a fool, but to Drayton, that ain’t even close to worth it, no matter how much it would help.

But they play just fine. They love each other just fine. Forget milestones and their speakin’ skills and all, so long as they ain’t brain dead completely it's a non-issue.

That ain’t the way Gloria sees it. She urges him, “Some problems is invisible to us. My Sally for example.”

Makes him scoff at her. Sally’s the baby of the group of ‘em all, still in her infancy. The others can’t learn how to speak or walk right, but she’s still too little for it. Givin’ up hope too early, he thinks.

“Girl ain’t got a thing wrong with her.”

“You’d think that. But she gets these night terrors, worse than any bad dream, just zoned totally out in her little crib. It’s like the Devil’s got her or somethin’.” Gloria gives a stubborn nod, watching Drayton shrink back, just a little, from being corrected.

He’ll keep it to himself that he still don’t quite believe her word for it. Just chides, “Lock her door at night. They start to wander when they’s like that.”

“So I’m right that the twins understand that.”

“Uhn. Just Nubbins. Don’t need a doctor to tell me he’s knocked sideways like his mother. Schizophrenic.”

Gloria clicks her tongue at him, earning a quick flush of shame. She scolds him like he’s one of the children, “Oh, I wish you wouldn’t call him that.”

“Schizophrenic?” Drayton knows he’s puffed up like a turkey, offended by the notion that yet again he’s doin’ something wrong.

Giving the tiniest flick of her eyes upwards, as frustrated as Drayton is now, she tells him, “No, that’s just his reality. I mean Nubbins. It’s cruel.”

‘Cause he’s stunted. At his age he’s half the size he’s s’posed to be, left behind by his identical twin when it comes to growin’ up. Guess that makes it wrong to call him small. But he don’t see it that way, so Drayton defends it, “Told you before. Chose the nickname himself! Don’t think ‘a himself a damn lick diff’rent than most. Stumped up or not.”

“But that would be like nicknamin’ my Franklin by ‘cripple’ or somethin’ worse.” Gloria tries to get him to see it her way, but that only makes Drayton double down.

She wants to get drastic, he can do that. He turns cold like a stone sinkin’ under water. “Maybe you oughta. Toughen him right up. Been whinin’ enough-“

“Alright, hold your tongue! You can’t make me regret lettin’ you and your brothers into my babies’ lives, no matter how hard you try it, damn it!” That woman can yell ‘til she’s pink in the face, voice strainin’ to not get too loud between each heavy breath. Her pearly pink nail on the end of her finger hovers inches away from the tip of Drayton’s nose, a warning. “I ain’t your mother, and neither are you, and we both know damn well you love those kids so you can stop pretendin’ it’s all an inconvenience to you!”

Don’t know how to put it to words, the way that makes him feel. Mostly irritated, but not by her. By his own shame. By his weakness, for even listenin’ to what she was lecturin’ him about. Shouldn’t let it get to him so bad.

To bury that feeling, he extends the olive branch again, without looking up at her, “Put some lemon in the tea today. Sweeten it up. Know you like it that way.”

“It’s alright. Apology accepted.” But she sighs. Don’t sound grateful.

Things get awkward quick these days. The kids don’t stop growin’, so their curiosity don’t either. Drayton thinks they’s playin’ too rough, racing Franklin back and forth in his wheelchair and jostlin’ him around. Little thing is laughin’ his head off, but all the same. Can’t say much though lettin’ the babes down in the yard too, on a quilt and right in the line of chaos. Already had to reprimand them for treatin’ the little ones like a couple ‘a dolls. Both keep a close eye to make sure they don’t get too close to the babies.

Now and again, his nervous glares shift to Gloria, tryin’ to see what she thinks without showin’ too freely he cares.

One time she catches him looking and interrupts the building paranoia, partly anyhow.

“We still on for supper next week? My brothers’ll be over after church, I’d really like for y’all to come by. I’ve told Boude about your kids some- he’s the particularly religious fellow. A ranger- I think he’d like to meet them.”

Drayton for one don’t like the sound of that. Charity from most folk just comes out soundin’ like torture, makin’ even feedin’ poor miss Hardesty those organs sound Saintly.

“Heard‘a exorcism killed some little girl. Turns out there weren’t no devil in her, just some family illness. Don’t want no maniacs like that around them.”

“It ain't like that. Sometimes when you pray for somebody, it’s to have someone in your corner through the struggles, not just to wish ‘em away.” Gloria spells it out for him.

“God left this farm a long time ago, Missy. You used to know that. Why you think all these kids keeps turnin’ out this way?” Drayton knows she still feels the same about the faith, only acting accordin’ to the plan her family’s got for her with raisin’ those two little ones of hers, but she pushes back anyhow.

“Look, I don’t believe it either, so maybe that’s just the fate of it. Maybe even God was the one that knew I’d need help from your slaughterhouse and gave our children a beautiful thing to bond over.”

“Right. ‘Cause it’s so nice they’ll never learn to read, or live on their own, or understand how really dangerous runnin’ in the street is. Thank your Christ Almighty for that. And while your at it, kiss ass about Bubba’s tongue-tie too. Been real helpful havin’ that little one half-starved ‘cause his own body won’t let him eat.”

There’s real hurt in her face. Like she’d been hit, or maybe worse’n that. She pleads, “Drayton. Enough.”

The guilt of snappin’ at her starts to eat him alive. He tries the tactic from before, the reachin’ out in simpler terms. “Added just a pinch of milk to the tea too. You’d think the lemon would curdle it but-“

She shuts him down with all the viciousness of a feral animal. Anger and somethin’ much uglier bubblin’ under the surface, tricklin’ out as a tremor in her hands she couldn’t hide if she wanted. “I said enough.”

They’re starin’ each other down like two rabid coyotes, deadlocked over which is gonna say somethin’ nasty first.

Gloria’s little boy takes the honor of breakin’ things up, wheelin’ hisself right over with a confident, and clearly rehearsed, question, “Mama, can I stay the night, please oh please with sugar daisies on top? Nubbins told me his room gots spiders, and I wanna see ‘em.”

“Honey, is his room up the stairs? You can’t get up there if it is.” She points out for him. The adults know it’s an excuse to put just a little more distance between them and the Sawyers.

“Oh..” Little’s Franklin’s curly head hangs with disappointment, ‘til he thinks of somethin’ new to ask. “But Mama, we got stairs over home and I get up them jus’ fine?”

Gloria breaks away from Drayton to lean over her boy, get on his level without crouchin’ down and makin’ an ordeal of it. “Because your daddy carries you, silly.”

“Mr. Sawyer could carry me.” He looks past his mama and directly at Drayton as he says it, in this same habit as his mama used to be with the formalities. Difference is the innocent little smile he gives, unaware of the cruelty that comes with the Sawyer name.

But in Gloria’s anger, she doesn’t give Drayton a chance to tell the kid he wouldn’t be carryin’ him anyhow, ‘cause she shakes her head, “I don’t think so, baby. Maybe some other time. It's almost time for supper anyhow, and that’d be just rude.”

That was just the start of them breakin’ away. Gone and fucked a good thing up, he did. ‘Cept it weren’t just the argument that done that.

When Franklin relayed the news to the twins they couldn’t have their friend spendin’ the night, they both threw a fit, up until Nubbins ended up hollerin’ at Drayton. Sayin’ some childish insult about not havin’ friends of his own to understand it. ‘Bout bein’ lonely all because he’s so ugly-mugged and half-witted and bitter about it all that nobody could stand to talk to him.

Hits a sore spot. Ain’t ‘cause he’s fragile enough to let a child weigh in on his self-worth, but he had to learn them words somehow. Knows damn well Drayton himself had said them things one too many times and rubbed off on the kid. Ruined his chance at normalcy too. And that’s what hurts him, is knowin’ he done that.

He lashed out about it. Drayton grabbed his bony shoulder and cracked him ‘cross the face, good three or four times in a row ‘til his cheek had a split and was bleedin’. Nubbins didn’t cry a bit. Franklin did. Oh, that boy wailed and wailed all the way back to the next door property- Sally in his arms and Miss Gloria pushin’ the wheelchair with them both- and then some more cryin’, from the sounds of it carrying in the air from next door.

Got the twins both snifflin’ too ‘cause now they’re realizin’ they’s s’posed to cry when these things happen. Drayton gets Bubba and goes inside, leaves ‘em out there to go where they please and feel as they want. Doesn’t care if they get themselves killed in the street right now. Deep down those kids hate him, and not requirin’ so much introspection, he knows clearly that he deserves it.

All together they only see the Hardesty family a couple more times ‘fore it’s their last meeting. Before it’s goodbye.

Gloria comes on her own, without any kids, just a gloomy expression, “I thought you’d like to know we’re movin’ up North. Now that Ma’s passed on, We’re goin’ with Boude. I think it’s for the best.”

He’s furious. Would like to take the broom he’d been using to sweep up the porch and smack her senseless over the head with it. Foolish, since he knows damn well the fault is all his. Drayton stays frozen in place, tryin’ to plead but soundin’ more just like he’s demanding, “You can’t do that to my boys. The twins, they’ll-“

“They’ll be alright if you’d just stop treating them so poorly!” She snaps, marching forward from the tense distance to downright growl in his face, all kinds of tension in her voice from the build-up of tears. “My Franklin, he talks about the damndest things! And I know he learnt it all from yours.”

“Well like what?”

“Things like knives, and blades, and horrible, horrible deaths!”

Ah. That was prob’ly inevitable. From the second she came along askin’ for his help, her and that baby were bound up in this whole mess. “Ain’t it the meat you wanted, woman? How you think we get it here?”

“But my Franklin, he don’t need to know all that! Now he’s fascinated with it, won’t stop scarin’ his baby sister describin’ the insides of cattle. Makin’ her cry.” Gloria sounds so defeated and desperate.

Drayton has to look away from her, thinkin’ of how she’d react if she knew that the blame should be tenfold. That the twins ain’t just witness to the dirty work of the industry, but they gots their own way of doin’ it when the times gets extra tough. Humans as beeves and all.

That’s a decision he’ll stand by, if only ‘cause his heart couldn’t bear the shame of bein’ so deeply wrong twice. “Sounds like you just didn’t prepare yours for the real world.”

“Or maybe you forced it on them boys too early. Maybe the way you hurt them leaves scars on the mind too.”

Now he knows his face is all angry red, gone from takin’ each blow with a side of sadness to just blind rage. Comin’ after the way he was choosing to parent them kids that ain’t even his own. Like he weren’t barely an adult himself when they popped out and became his issue to deal with, sick in the head as they were in their hearts. Drayton’s got every right to handle them rabid dogs of children the way kids like them, kids like he used to be for his Mama, oughta be.

“I don’t- That’s punishment!”

“And Lord have mercy the day your punishment comes, ‘cause I know it ain’t gonna be pretty!” She practically screams it.

Don’t got a clue that for Drayton, this is the punishment. The isolation. The family business. Mama and Grandpa’s teachings. Don’t take the pleasure in it, never did ‘til the day he could help that Hardesty kid in his mama’s womb. Should’ve been a sign, when his spine never finished formin’, that that bond wouldn’t be enough to save ‘em.

“We’ll see, missy.”

“No, we won’t. I told you. We’re movin’. I appreciate everythin’, but I’ve had enough- more than enough of my share of the violence. I don’t know what life is comin’ to anymore.”

“That’s gonna be no matter where you go.” He warns her. All over the world there’s killin’. Crueler people than him when it comes to the way her two kids are. That Franklin especially gonna be in for it when he realizes most kids ain’t as carefree as them twins.

“Worst part is, I know you’re right.” Gloria agrees with the sentiment, the cold damn reality, and it cracks her fragile disguise right in two. She caves from an overwhelming flood rush of emotion, and wraps her arms ‘round Drayton. “Give them hugs from me too. And from Franklin.”

Takes him a minute to realize that was a hug and not her tryin’ to squeeze him ‘til his ribs break. By the time he catches up she pulls away and he’s just holding her arm, careful with her like she’s made of bone porcelain. ‘Cause he knows he might be the one to hold too tight and break her. Accidents happen. And lord knows he’s been quick to violence these days.

Vulnerability reminds him, “Don’t them- Don’t the boys deserve a damned goodbye?”

“I’m half scared they’d stowaway in the movin’ truck.” Gloria laughs lightly, but it’s wet, and the tears start dripping’ down her cheeks and off her nose.

Finally Drayton can see the humor in it, and gives her a little chuckle himself. “Hell, you’re prob’ly right.”

And because she is, all Gloria has to say is, “I’m sorry, Drayton.”

“No you ain’t.” He tries weakly to deny. To him, it’s better without the padding. Just give him the blow directly, tell him he never meant a damn thing to any of those damned Hardesty’s and leave without looking back.

Gloria has no such intention, being genuine, real gentle but with purpose, after bein’ so tough before.

“I am though. I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

Before he knows it, the well bursts with frustration and Drayton’s got a flood of guilt pouring out of him.

“I’m the one that couldn’t help ya! One shot at redemption and I failed it, prob’ly fucked that kid up worse by interferin’ at all! And the little girl too! Damn it, woman, there’s a reason us Sawyers keep to ourselves! You’d think, the diseases of the mind ain’t contagious, but with us- with us they is.”

Either so unmoved the disinterest is genuine, or worse, hiding her feelings from him again, rebuilding the wall that keeps them contained after Drayton’s own outpouring beat against its hardening exterior. Whichever way, she stays blank now.

Gloria speaks first. “I should go.”

“You should.” He agrees, giving a harsh sniff to keep from crying for real.

But she never follows through. Just stands there. “I don’t want to.”

“Got to, girly.” It’s not as friendly as it oughta be. Dry and sad and bored sounding, anything to distance himself if that’s how she wants to play it.

Only, Gloria hugs him again, this time pressing her face to his chest, so she could try to melt into him. To leave behind responsibility and expectations and the pressures of life and sick children. She ain’t oblivious to the cruelty of meat. Consumers and Predators and who’s got the sharpest teeth. Seems like Drayton’s job is to do the hunting, and Gloria, she keeps the prey animals in line. Sharpens their teeth to give em a chance, gets ‘em wheels for useless legs.

Could’ve been all she wanted, if she didn’t settle in and have her babies. There’s a time for proving her worth, and a time for layin’ down the fight to keep her family safe.

“In another life.” She mumbles, refusing to let go of the hug she’s got him in for far too long.

“Don’t be so final. They’ll grow up and find each other when we’s old and bitter.”

“I think we already are.”

“Yeh. Prob’ly right.” His shoulders deflate. Hunch forward. Drayton can’t stand to do this. Never had to say goodbye before when someone was fixin’ to leave him behind. “Go on, then. Drag it out any longer and I’ll be the one sendin’ the boys in your luggage.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” In a playful kind of way, she tries to fix her expression into stern, but it just kind of crumbles, for a second showing her grief all over.

Drayton doesn’t bother adjusting tone when he plays along. An emotionless back and forth, knowing full well it’s wrong to keep going, “I might.”

Gloria huffs in frustration, this conversation clearly not going to plan. Probably wanted him to break down and cry with her. Plead and plead for her not to leave so she could heroically change her mind. Force Drayton to be somebody he ain’t.

That illusion is long over now. The helpful friendly neighbor. Never was quite accurate to who he is on the inside. Or the outside after he’s been up to butcherin’. Best she goes now, thinkin he never did care for her or her kids, rather’n have to put ‘em on the hooks later.

“Stubborn as a mule, I tell ya.” She shakes her head at him, no idea how lucky she really is that he’s so distant to her.

Nothin’ left to say, Drayton keeps his mouth shut, hopin’ that’ll be enough for her to lose interest and turn away now. His thoughts have made him sick to his stomach, doesn’t want to see her face any longer.

Taking a couple steps back, about to turn toward the path, she gives him a warning of her own, “Just be good.”

“Don’t think it’s me you should be tellin’ that to.” He hums, though he knows damn well his family business is bad. No such thing here. Only one of them remotely well behaved is Drayton, and he’s the one with his hands elbow deep in corpses most days, whether they’re cattle or the other kind of beeves.

“I’ll pass it along to the boys.”

“I meant you.” Big round eyes all desperate for one final plea to change her mind and keep them rooted here, she’s searchin’ Draytons face as she speaks to him. Hopin’ to see under the exterior.

So he stays silent again.

Pisses her off, cause now she turns her back to him. Raises her voice so much it wobbles, “I won’t see you again, Drayton Sawyer.”

“Alright.” Is all he gives her.

Her silhouette is shaking, the force of her sobs popping out of her like boiling oil. Sharp and unexpected and painful. The last thing she ever says to him is a curse, upon him now for pushin’ her away, and for leadin’ her on all this time. Makin’ her think her and her babies was like family.

“Damn you. God damn you to hell!”

Got a one way ticket already. Don’t get no worse than killing. Smackin’ the boys around, sayin’ things he shouldn’t, none of it compares to the killin’. Figure if he stopped that but didn’t change a damned other thing about himself, he’d still be welcomed up above, if he just repented.

That’s one thing he refuses to do. Drayton ain’t gonna beg the universe, or a frail woman from next door, in her pristine little house with her pristine little family, for forgiveness.

Things need done. Children need fed. She should know that as well as any.

[ofthehands]

Context: Nubbins has a new execution in the game..

[ofthehands]

behold, intermediate form of iron

Bobby

[ofthehands]

I saw this post and immediately remembered

“I fucking love mermaids and sirens.”

you know what? Now I am creating my own Tcm AU.

I love to draw fish and water. It might be a little cringe, but I'm happy. I will still post art on this AU sometimes, because I have already developed it and will continue to work on it...

Thank you so much, sweetie, for inspiring me🥹