#LIKE GIRL LET GALO DO IT THEN CLEARLY HE STILL WANTS TO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

haro-whumps · 5 years ago

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Group Whumpees 11: Fight

So I stayed up until 2 in the morning writing last Friday, so you DO get an update before I go completely MIA for a couple weeks. And I do know y’all love Evan. Mind the CWs

CW: Attempted sexual assault (unsuccessful), violence, knives, stabbing, hospitals, needles, drugged character, multiple whumpees, referenced noncon, aftermath of trauma

Tag List: @bleeding-demon-teeth @theycomeinthrees @redwingedwhump @whimperwoods @inpainandsuffering @whole-and-apart-and-between @whump-whump-whump-it-up @whumpingupastorm @newandfiguringitout @lonesome--hunter @looptheloup @icannotweave @deluxewhump @whumping-every-day @yeet-me-out-a-window @what-a-whumpy-world @burtlederp @constellationwhump @swordkallya @finder-of-rings @fairybean101 @adventuresofacreesty @arlennil @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @lumpofwhump @thatsthewhump @pinkdiamondprince @shameless-whumper @whump-only

Masterlist

Nyla gestured Evan closer, Greyson already present and staring absently at the washing machine. He seemed to snap back to the present when Nyla entered his field of vision, though, with Greyson it was hard to tell if he'd even been spacing off in the first place.

“Alright so I’d like your help moving the washer and dryer away from the wall,” Nyla instructed, “we’ll be able to reach behind them to clean, then.”

Evan chuckled, raising an arm over his shoulder and stretching it back. “Oh damn, we're really out of shit to do.”

“We have plenty to do,” Nyla said with a frown his direction. He was still behaving around Master Galo, thank goodness, but while he'd been cowed following his punishment he’d gotten more or less back to his usual self, around the family. It was relieving, because seeing Evan be… subdued, was worrying. But it was also the tiniest bit aggravating, because Evan was aggravating by nature. She couldn't wait for him to resume aggravating her when he talked about their Master, too (just as long as he wasn't aggravating while talking to their Master). She never thought she’d want to be mildly annoyed. “We finally have the chance to do lengthier projects, that’s all.”

“Like cleaning behind the washer and dryer.”

Nyla set her hands on her hips and frowned up at him. “Yes like cleaning behind the washer and dryer. Why wouldn't we?”

“Because the only reason anyone would clean there is if they were moving and wanted the house to look spotless for buyers. Seriously, who’s gonna look back there?”

“Just because we can't see it doesn't mean it isn't collecting dust and grime.”

“And just because it's been collecting dust since the units were installed doesn't mean it has to be cleaned.”

Nyla let out an exasperated huff of air, feeling the ridiculous urge to stomp her foot. “Why are you being contrary?”

“I'm not, I'm not,” Evan said, raising his hands and rocking back on his heels. “I'm just saying: we’re out of shit to do, and it shows. And you refusing to admit that doesn't make it less true.”

“We aren’t out of things to do though!” Nyla insisted. “There are plenty of hard-to-reach places that haven't been cleaned the entire time I've been here, probably before even Greyson was here,” she said with a gesture to him, who blinked but otherwise remained where he was, quietly waiting, “and the tortoiseshell guest room needs a new coat of paint, and we should really retile the bathroom with the lighthouse figurines, and--”

“And what you’re saying is we are super out of things to do.”

Nyla made a frustrated noise, Evan chuckling her, and she jabbed a finger into his chest. “You are super obnoxious.”

“It's a hard job, but somebody’s gotta do it,” Evan said theatrically, placing his palm upon his breast.

“Greyson, back me up here,” Nyla demanded, turning to him, and he blinked again, a little slowly.

“Greyson’s not gonna think we need to mop behind the fridge any more than I do.”

“Oh I hadn't even thought about moving the fridge,” Nyla remarked, pulling out her notepad. Evan laughed at her.

“Good thing we’re super bored, or I might be tempted to complain.”

“As if that is a thing you have ever once refrained from.” There was a knock on the service door. “Groceries. Can you two start--” Evan waved her off, ambling forward.

“Yeah, yeah, we got it, go do your thing.”

Nyla ghosted up the steps, silent and swift, and answered the door with a bright smile and a small curtesy. The delivery man was someone Nyla had met with frequently, someone who came around often enough for her to recognize his face. He was a chatty sort, liked to ask a lot of questions, and didn't have a very strong concept of personal space, but he was friendly enough and Nyla didn't find it to be any particular strain to be polite to him.

“Noticed the new guy’s car isn't in the driveway today,” the man said, and Nyla hummed with a little nod. Master Galo had parked his car in the garage or in the drive with seemingly no criteria and changing all the time. It was in the garage, at present. Nyla theorized that the times Master left it in the drive while it was raining had been to rinse off the dust.

The man helped carry the groceries into the kitchen, which wasn't part of his job at all, but Nyla was appreciative enough for the help. She was a hard worker, but some of the heavier bags she was more than content to let someone else carry for her.

“Your owner out of the house often?”

“Yes sir,” she answered. Master Galo’s daily visits to the gym alone had him out and about with far, far more frequency than Mistress, plus with the training for his new volunteer effort he’d been out even more. And, like now, he would go out into the gardens to run or simply walk the grounds, whereas Mistress would only go into her yard for garden parties or to walk alongside visitors.

“So it's just you and the kitchen girl when he's out?” the delivery man asked, walking alongside Nyla as they returned to his vehicle for the final bag.

Nyla did not frown or furrow her brow, but she did feel a twist of confusion. What exactly was the man trying to ask? “We slaves serve only Master; he has no family that lives with him,” she said, wondering if maybe he was curious about that?

His hand came down to rest heavily on Nyla’s shoulder, almost causing her to stumble, lilting in close to him to keep from getting knocked off balance. “I--sir?” she asked, hairs on her neck and arms raising in alarm.

“Take it easy,” he said, which was the opposite of what Nyla was doing. He led her sharply to the right, away from the hall to the service door and into the living room.

“Sir, this isn't--”

Nyla winced as her head hit the wall when he pinned her to it, not hard enough to hurt but far from pleasant. Her smile finally dropped at the sight of the knife.

“Shhhh,” the man hissed, Nyla’s head tilting back, breath spiking, as his knife pressed against the soft underside of her chin. Her fingers trembled where they clawed against the wall, at her sides, terrified and confused. She did not whimper as his hand came up to cover her mouth, dry skin against her lips. “Shush, angel, I don’t wanna hear a peep out of you.”

Nyla had no option but to stare, silent, with tearing eyes at the man who grinned at her. “God, you’re so pretty,” he murmured as he slid his hand down, pressed to her throat, moving the knife away but replacing it with another threat. “I’ve been fantasizing about this, you know. What it would be like to see that smile of yours give way to fear. It’s even better than I thought it would be.”

Nyla’s breathing was shallow, frantic, she wanted to scream, but she knew she’d get a knife for her efforts. Mistress had used knives on her plenty, but never once had they gone near her throat, Mistress too careful for that. This man wouldn’t be half so cautious.

“God, I wish I could drag this out,” he whispered, bending close, his breath foul and ghosting over her lips, “but I can’t get caught, so.” He gripped her arm harshly, yanking her further into the living room, and her eyes jerked about frantically. None of the furniture in here was big enough--it was all decorative, where--

She gasped, air knocked out of her as he bent her over the arm of the couch. His hand returned to her neck, the back of it, keeping her head down, and the knife came up in front of her again, glistening, sharp. She trembled, feeling like she must have been hit harder than she thought, because she couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t think at all. She felt a wall of sheer, unadulterated fright, and nothing past that, she couldn’t move, couldn’t make a noise even if she hadn’t been ordered not to, couldn’t even blink as she stared down at the detailed patterning on the fabric of the couch stretched out in front of her, knife pressed to her chest and a man, larger than her, grinding his crotch down onto her ass and she could feel his dick.

“Please--” she gasped, because she’d never done this before, because she didn’t want it to be like this, because she didn’t want this at all, because she was scared!

“Quiet!” he hissed, yanking the knife down, proving just how sharp it was and how strong he was by tearing through her dress, through her apron, leaving a thin line of red where the tip of the knife clipped her sternum. She swallowed a high noise of panic, quiet, quiet, she was quiet, she didn’t want to be cut or stabbed, too. Humiliated tears slipped down her face as he groped her, and she bit down another horrified noise when he said, “Unless you wanna draw your kitchen friend’s attention. Betcha she’d be real good at this, tits and an ass like hers, we could have her come join in.”

Quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet, trembling hands on scratchy cloth, look at the pattern of the fabric, focus on that, focus on anything other than the heat and weight behind her, the hand on her breast, the knife pressed to her chest.

He gripped her hair and yanked her head back. “Crying already?” he asked softly, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Good.”

Evan rubbed at the back of his neck as he rose, washer and dryer now officially pulled away from the wall and all the dust bunnies and little clusters of lint and hair available for the dusting.

“Has Nyla been up there a while?” Evan asked, Greyson making his way to the broom.

Greyson’s brow furrowed minutely, only there if you knew what to look for, and he nodded. “You go. I won’t need you until we move them back.”

“I am okay with that,” Evan said, a joke, because he never actually would slack off if a task needed done. But he really had meant it; Nyla was contriving things for them to do because she was bored and he really didn’t see the point in this task specifically. The entrance to the basement wasn’t far from the service door, and Evan squinted, body going tense. Why would the grocery van still be here?

Not bothering with being quiet (Master was outside, anyways), Evan turned and set into a fast walk, ears perked, and a voice that wasn’t Master’s but was low and masculine anyway said something in the living room. Evan felt every instinctive alarm in his body going off, not knowing what was wrong but knowing something absolutely, definitely was. He wasn’t smart, but he had good instincts, and when he rounded the corner he saw red.

The knife caught him in the wrist but he didn’t feel it, didn’t feel anything other than the bastard whose hand had been on Nyla’s bare ass getting his nose broken under Evan’s fist. A sob tore out of Nyla, and Evan couldn’t hear anything after that from the blood in his ears. He’d hurt her. This fucking nobody had hurt Nyla. And he wasn’t Evan’s Master.

So Evan was gonna make him pay.

A shout, a wild swing of the knife, it caught Evan’s shoulder but it was shallow, meaningless, when Evan screamed it was with rage. It was with a wild, nameless fury, and it was with the bestial satisfaction of release.

He’d never raised a hand against Mistress. Hadn’t even thought of it with Master. But here was a target, open and asking for it, asking to be put in the goddamn ground for touching Nyla, hurting Nyla his family his friend Evan slammed his fists into any piece of him he saw, blood on Evan’s knuckles, flecked against Evan’s cheeks, and--

The knife in his thigh registered through the adrenaline, prompting another scream, this time of pain, Evan arching his back but he tried not to stop, not to deviate from his goal. Even as the knife came out and the pain shot blinding whiteness through him Evan was resolved to turn his face into pulp. He was going to punch and keep punching and he wasn’t going to stop punching until this fucker stopped moving for good, and if he bled out in the process that wasn’t currently a concern.

But a heave of movement left Evan struggling, and then the man was on top of Evan and things looked worse from this angle. Evan didn’t stop, though, couldn’t, grabbing the man’s stabbing wrist and holding onto it with a desperate, wild force, trying to get another swing in when the man’s other hand closed around Evan’s throat. He struggled, kicking, clawing red lines up and down the other’s skin, his cheek, aiming for his eye but missing, but air was quickly becoming a thing Evan would need more of fucking soon and that wasn’t happening. His grip on the knife-hand was growing shaky, the blade lowering and lowering as Evan’s vision blurred. He tried to scream again, in violent fury, but no air came out from his open mouth.

Master.

The knife fell on the carpet and Evan hauled in sweet air, choking and coughing as his abused throat struggled back online. He rolled onto his side, struggling up onto his elbows, and blood-rushed ears made out a brief exchange between Master and Nyla, confirming that the motherfucker had been the one to hurt her.

Even through the thick wood of the front door, Evan and Nyla both heard the resounding crack of someone losing the unbroken status of his skull. Fucking good.

“Ev?” Nyla breathed, kneeling in front of him. Her dress was sliced down the front, held up by an arm across her breasts, something had happened to the sleeves, too, and Evan reached a still-shaky, still-bloody hand up to cup her cheek.

“Nyla,” he said quietly, and she leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. He hated it when Nyla cried. Nyla crying was basically the universe confirming that absolutely everything was terrible and anything that could go wrong, if it wasn’t already currently going wrong, would go wrong very soon. “Did he--did--?”

“Just my clothes,” Nyla murmured, shuddering, and Evan squeezed his eyes shut tight and pressed their foreheads a little closer. Greyson caught them both off guard, entering their little huddle with a hand to Nyla’s shoulder, another to Evan’s. He took off his jacket and folded it, then pressed it to Evan’s leg, prompting a hiss, then he looked between them, Greyson’s equivalent expression for confusion on his face, and Evan looked to Nyla.

She’d explain to Master and Greyson could overhear, it seemed, because Master came back through the front door, the resounding boom of it (it wasn’t so loud as all that, Evan was just scared) reminding Evan of the other, far more terrifying threat in the house.

“No, he is currently unconscious, on the account of him attempting to rape and kill two of my slaves. Yeah, yeah, he’s gonna need an ambulance, I uh, I might have broken his skull.” There was no might. Galo had absolutely broken his skull. And you know, Galo wasn’t a violent person, he believed in pacifism and talking things out (he still had semi-neutral/semi-positive relationships with his family, after all). But Galo knew where lines were drawn and this, this, (who even was this guy!?) this nobody--

Regardless, he deserved it.

“Yes, thank you.” Galo had just changed the fucking locks on the goddamn doors, how had he made it into his house? “No ma’am.” Thank god Greyson had heard the yelling and gone straight to Galo, instead of getting mixed up in whatever was happening. No offense to Greyson but he was thin and gaunt and scrawny as all hell and probably would not have done a lot in a fight. “I… would prefer to hang up, if that’s alright. The people he assaulted are inside and I want to make sure they’re okay.” And check in with Greyson, Lilah and Sasha, after, provided the police hadn’t arrived by then. “Thank you ma’am, yes.”

Galo went inside, finding Evan where he’d left him and Nyla and Greyson there with. Nyla was still clinging to the remains of her dress and Galo found it A Little Stupid that Greyson and Evan, both in possession of additional top layers, hadn’t offered her something to cover up with, but adrenaline and shock made for one hell of a cocktail. He tugged off his tank top and handed it to her as he entered the crouched-down-semi-circle.

“Are there pressing injuries that need immediate attention,” Galo asked, needing to prioritize.

“My thigh,” Evan said weakly, and Galo found that once his attention was drawn to it, hey yeah actually! Greyson was staunching it, good for him, but that was an alarming quantity of blood.

“Do you need help applying pressure?” Greyson shook his head. “Okay, ambulance is on its way, we’ll get you to the hospital.” Galo glanced at Nyla, and upon finding her dressed (she looked faintly ridiculous, the tank top beyond oversized and the lettering entirely unsuited to the mood) he looked at her fully. “Nyla, do you need to be seen in the hospital as well?”

Fuck, wrong way to phrase that, she was shaking her head and Galo didn’t know if that meant Evan had intervened before he’d actually done anything more than fuck up her clothes, or if she was trying to tough it out.

“Can I get a summary of what happened?” Ideally brief, because Evan was bleeding from more places than one (those cuts seemed shallow, at least).

“The man frequently delivers groceries, he attempted to,” Nyla took an unsteady breath, and Galo wished he could hug her, comfort her in some meaningful capacity that wouldn’t just terrorize her more, “assault me, but was stopped from doing more than removing my clothing when Evan arrived. They fought, Evan was stabbed in the thigh, and you arrived, Master.”

“Very succinct, thank you Nyla.”

The sound of sirens; they’d made it there quick. Small blessings, Galo supposed. “Okay, I’m gonna go with Evan to the hospital, and also talk to the police I guess. Greyson, if Lilah isn’t inside already please go get her and lock the doors. The four of you stay inside until I’m back,” fuck what else. Oh, god, he felt horrible for even having to say it but if there was even a chance that they would… “Don’t worry about any of the other things you were gonna do today, okay? Just don’t worry about it. Do something pleasant, if you can.”

The sirens were in Galo’s driveway, and he stood, needing to direct their attention to the men in various states of injury.

“Thank you Master,” Nyla said, and Galo gave her a nod, not even bothering with trying to smile.

Things moved very quickly, after that, beckoning the ambulance staff inside, getting the grocery guy onto his own gurney, talking to cops (which Galo hated. Haaaaated.) Getting in his car and going to the hospital, talking to people there, time only slowed down as he sat in the waiting room chair. Waiting. He pulled up discord on his phone and started messaging John, a fellow tank, hoping to get the guy prattling in an attempt at a distraction. The thought of calling Jeremiah, just to get him to talk endlessly, passed Galo’s mind, but if his brother was in a weird mood or a bad one it would tip Galo off of some precipice he was standing on and that was not worth it.

He wished he had family he was close to.

He wished he had friends that he was close to, somewhere within a thousand miles of him.

Evan was fine, thankfully. The knife hadn’t been serrated, which meant the flesh had avoided extra damage upon removal, but the wound had been deep, and Evan had bled a lot. He had received a blood transfusion, and he had an IV in his arm when Galo entered the room, plus stitches, his shallower cuts had been treated, and also painkillers were involved.

“Hey,” Galo said as he settled himself into the hospital chair, perfectly comfortable and positioned at a thoughtful angle to the side, opposite the door so physicians could easily enter, feeling a sense of deja vu.

Evan was scared.

Evan was scared, and he was scared, and he was scared, and he was scared in an ambulance and scared in a hospital and scared surrounded by strangers and the adrenaline crashing meant he was also in pain and there were needles and Evan actually really hated needles and he was scared.

And it was a fucking joke of the universe that when his Master entered the room, Evan actually felt relief.

“Hey,” his Master, who had single-handedly cracked open the skull of the man who had put Evan in this hospital, said.

“Sir,” Evan whispered. He had intended for it to be a ‘hello sir’ but he was shaky and his throat hurt and hey, his brain wasn’t totally online.

“How’re you feeling?” Master Galo asked from the hospital chair, simultaneously altogether too close (he could reach out and touch Evan, if the mood struck him) and too far away (Evan was scared).

“Bad,” he answered honestly, “Sorry.”

“Hey,” Master Galo said, and it was a weakness Evan had sworn off the millionth time Mistress had played the kind sweet soothing game but Evan let himself take some small comfort in the tone, “hey, no, you have nothing to be sorry for. You did great, Evan, you protected Nyla and did not die in the process. You did better than anyone could’ve expected of you.” True. Evan had brought his fists to a knife fight. There was a burning little coal of pride, at that, and Evan felt his shoulders roll back a little, preening just a little, a little little, a little preening seemed to be allowed.

He hadn’t ever smiled around Mistress Bethany except when she made him, never genuine, so it was a surprise that he was smiling (just a little) around Master Galo. But Evan had done well.

“Thank you, sir,” and for once in his life, he was actually feeling grateful while he gave his owner thanks.

“Yeah, man. How’s the leg?”

“I’m pretty sure they’re giving me really good painkillers,” Evan said, which only confirmed his point because even he wouldn’t normally be ballsy enough to talk to his Master like that unless he intended to provoke him. But Master Galo just chuckled.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need to lay off it for the next couple weeks and they’ve given me the names of a couple physical therapists to talk to.”

“...Physical therapists?” Evan asked, brow drawn.

“The knife went in deep, man, your muscles are all fucked up,” Master Galo said, and his tone almost sounded pitying, but not really. Pity-adjacent.

Evan felt the urge to apologize again, but he wasn’t sorry and Master Galo had already told him not to so he blurted out his next thought, which was, “This is the hospital Mistress died in?”

“Yes, but you’re not going to die. They’re gonna keep you here for a few hours to make sure you don’t go into shock, and we’ll be home just after supper.”

“Oh.”

“You’re also gonna be kinda fucked up on painkillers for a while.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I’m scared.” Evan made a displeased noise at his own honesty, pulling his lips back and sinking his chin into the folds of his neck. “Oh I am fucked up on painkillers.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a pretty accurate assessment.” Master Galo sounded amused. Bastard. (Maybe not as much of a bastard as Evan normally thought he was).

“I don’t feel fucked up.”

“That’s probably not a bad thing. Why do you feel scared, bud?”

Evan gave his Master a very pointed look, then hunched his shoulders, looking down, because where the hell did he get off thinking he could give his Master any kind of look at all, much less a pointed one? Again, though, Master just chuckled.

“Okay, fair, entirely fair, that’s on me. What would help make you feel less scared?”

“I hate needles.”

“Okay, good news, you are done with the needle portion of the day. No more needles for Evan.” Master Galo pointed at the IV in Evan’s arm. “Except for that one. That one needs to stay exactly where it is until a licensed medical professional takes it out.”

“Can I take it out?”

“You are not licensed, medical, or professional, so no. Plus, it’d just injure you further cause you wouldn’t do it right and then you’d have more problems and I’d be a liar.”

Evan took a moment to puzzle together why Master Galo would be a liar if Evan took the needle out, but eventually realized that if he started bleeding he’d need another transfusion, and that meant more needles and okay, okay.

“Can I..?” Evan started, moving his hand across the hospital sheets.

“Hm?” Master intoned, looking down at Evan’s hand. He took one of those thoughtful pauses of his, Evan staring up at him. He was still shirtless, little T’s of scar tissue over his nipples. Evan did not expect Master Galo’s chest hair to be blue because that would be stupid, but maybe some fucked-up-on-painkillers part of his brain had expected that because he stared at Master’s chest hair a lot too. And his chin hair, which was sorta vaguely-fuzzy in the way it went when Master hadn’t shaved in a few days. Evan wondered if he could grow a beard. Evan couldn’t. Greyson extra couldn’t.

Evan felt stupid, childish, dumbass relief when Master Galo reached out and held his hand. Moron. This wasn’t real. This was something that he was going to be hurt for or pay for later, he knew it, he just knew it, nothing came without a price, but he was scared and his brain was acting all weird on him and if Master touched him Any Other Place on his body he was going to Lose His Whole Ass Mind, but for the time he clung to his Master’s hand like it was a lifeline. Idiot. He should know better. He should, he should, but he didn’t, and Master’s hand, heavy and warm, reassured him.

This hand had kept Nyla from getting kidnapped and Evan from getting murdered on the living room floor. It also had fine little hairs on the back of it, just barely there, and they didn’t really move when Evan brushed his fingers over them and he couldn’t feel them but he could see them, pale and thin and short.

Fuck what were in these painkillers?

“Was she in a room like this?” Evan asked, staring at the hairs on Master’s wrist and lower forearm.

“Yeah, pretty near identical, except the art. She was up a few floors, though.”

There were so many tiny, itty-bitty wrinkles that existed on a person’s hand. Like the knuckles, yeah, sure, but also the skin between the thumb and forefinger, and the palm, which Evan couldn’t see because he was holding his Master’s hand. “You got us here, right? She gave you..?”

“Yeah. Dragged her poor lawyer all the way over here just to fuss with her will and name me the sole heir.”

“Are you glad?”

“Yeah, bud.”

“Are you glad she’s dead?” Evan clarified, because he could see how someone might miss that with the way he’d originally worded it.

Another thoughtful pause, a little shorter. “Will you think less of me if I say yes?”

“I am,” Evan said, realizing far too belatedly that his Master had asked him a question he hadn’t answered. “I’m glad she’s dead. I hated her, and you’re confusing but you’re not mean the same way she was.”

“I don’t mean to be confusing,” Master said, Evan trailing his fingers over his skin. “I just don’t know what everyone’s expectations and routines are, and how you lived before I got here. I’m trying to figure out how to be a good owner to you all, but I’m making some pretty big mistakes along the way.”

Evan stared at the hand inside his own. He couldn't understand this man. Now that the fear wasn’t keeping him awake and alert, he was starting to feel exhausted. “Am I allowed to sleep here, sir?”

“I’ll go ask a nurse. Stay awake until I get an answer, okay?”

“Yessir.”

A little curl of fear let him do just that, when his Master took his hand away. Evan stared at his empty palm, fingers curling experimentally, and he felt the emptiness of the room echoing around him. These rooms were too big. Weren’t hospital rooms supposed to be small?

His Master came back and filled the space. It seemed like a reasonable size for a room, with this mammoth of a man inside it. “Yeah, bud, you can go ahead and take a nap. A nurse is gonna wake you up when they need to check your vitals, but go ahead and sleep until then.”

Evan’s fingers twitched. He reminded himself, firmly, that his Master liked to be asked for things. “Will you hold my hand again, Master Galo?” he asked as nicely as he could, because he was a weak little bitchbaby and a pansy and a moron. But he was a weak little bitchbaby who was getting his hand held, so take that!

God he hoped they lowered the dosage moving forward.

With Evan asleep, Galo now satisfied that he was fine and he was safe, Galo tried to make his brain do the thinking thing. His brain did not want to do the thinking thing, but too bad, because he was gonna make it do the thinking thing.

That was twice within the span of a single week, now, that someone had entered Galo’s home without his permission and attempted to harm Nyla. This could not continue to happen.

Hmm. Galo wasn’t guaranteed to be inside the house every time someone came knocking, so he couldn't ask the slaves to always let him be the one to open the door. But, also, well, Evan had very evidently proved himself as capable and willing of fighting back, if the person at the door was doing something they shouldn't. Obviously it'd have to wait until Evan was back on his feet (and even then, it depended on how well he recovered), but Galo could totally make Evan the doorman. Greyson, theoretically, could play doorman when Galo wasn't there, until Evan was an option, and really, how often even did people show up? Groceries, but other than that, Galo hadn't ordered a ton of deliveries and didn't have friends in town.

Oh but speaking of which, Galo pulled up the internet on his phone and started looking for crutches. Evan was gonna need one for a bit, and then after that he would get a lighter mobility aide. Guess what the aide would be. Guess. Guess what the doctor had recommended.

A fucking cane.

Galo’s life was a joke and his suffering was the punchline. But hey, silver lining was that there were plenty of those available, since the dumpster was scheduled to arrive in two days, so. Evan could have free choice of which instrument of torture he would like to use as a mobility aide. Fucking hell.

“Y’know,” Galo said very quietly, so as not to wake Evan up, “it used to be that the most interesting thing in my search history was the walkthrough for The Grey Rainbow.” Which was an excellent, free PC game and if there were any mind readers out there eavesdropping on Galo’s thoughts, they should absolutely open a new tab and play it. Even if some of the puzzles were a little tricky.

Galo left a note on his order that whoever delivered the crutches (he could only buy them in a set) please just set the box on the front porch and leave. Don't ring the doorbell or knock, please, just put it down and turn around. The slaves he'd left at the house didn't need the added anxiety of another knock on the door, not while Galo and Evan were gone and Nyla had just been attacked that morning.

“It also used to be that the most stressful thing that happened to me on any given day was annoying customers demanding to talk to my manager. Not unearthing horrible family secrets or fun new traumas,” Galo murmured, Evan sleeping right on through it. They'd given him the good shit, whatever it was, and Galo remembered getting his wisdom teeth out. How he’d wanted to do nothing other than sleep, eat applesauce, and sleep some more. Fortunately, Evan’s mouth was fine, so the urge for applesauce should probably not resurface with him.

Galo, very lightly, stroked his thumb over the side of Evan’s hand, just little motions. He crafted emails, one-handed, to a couple different physical therapists until a nurse came in to check on Evan and also deliver a late lunch. Galo thanked her and helped her sit Evan up, Evan looking mightily displeased at being touched, though Galo couldn't tell if he liked the nurse or Galo less. He was aware that, as far as Evan was concerned, Galo was very likely the lesser of two evils in this situation, the enemy you know is better than the one you don't and blah blah. He tried to keep it brief.

“And sir,” the nurse said, turning to Galo when she was done with Evan, “could I get you a shirt?”

Galo glanced down at himself, faintly embarrassed. “Oh, yeah, that’d be great thanks.”

Evan stared at Galo, namely Galo’s bare chest, after the nurse left, ignoring the food on the little tray next to him. He’d been staring at Galo pretty intensely earlier, too, so Galo just let him, thinking on what he should do for his own lunch, and if Evan would be good if he left him alone for a bit.

Google said there was an Arby’s nearby and fuck if Galo couldn't go for some loaded curly fries right then, actually. He could get a shirt on and walk down there, get some fresh air.

“Oh my god your nipples!” Evan suddenly exclaimed, Galo jumping in his seat, nearly dropping his phone. To his credit, Evan probably was not aware of how loud he’d just been. But also, Ah.

“Don’t rip your stitches there, bud,” Galo said, saying the first thing that popped into his head. Evan had uh. Moved. There.

“There are Ts on your nipples!”

“There are,” Galo confirmed, blinking twice. “More specifically, the scars are on the tissue around the nipples, but yes.”

“We couldn't figure it out,” Evan said, having one hell of an epiphany there. Galo quirked a confused smile and bit his lip, trying not to laugh. Evan would definitely hate him once he was sober, if Galo actually laughed at him while he was like this. “We kept guessing what ‘going on T’ meant but there are Ts on your titties!” Evan said with a broad gesture towards Galo’s pecs, and Galo shook with silent laughter.

“Mhm. So. That’s not quite it bud,” Galo got out, and had to pause and bite his lip again to suppress his laughter. “Going on T is in reference to the hormone testosterone, which I take supplements for.” Galo gestured to his scars. “These are the result of me getting top surgery, which is pretty much exactly like it sounds.”

Evan was squinting, nodding, and asked, “Am I going to remember this when I stop being…” he waved at his own forehead vaguely, “drugged?”

“Yes, probably, but it's okay if you don't. You saying this makes me think I should probably actually give a trans ed 101 to all of you. Which, you know, makes sense if you think about it because my aunt was definitely not the right kind of person to give any sort of information on queer life or history.” Galo and Evan both looked to the door when the nurse returned with a stiff, thin shirt that only barely fit Galo. He thanked her and slipped it on, moving his arms slowly so he didn't rip open the armpits.

“Which one is testosterone, sir?” Evan asked, squinting again.

“It’s the hormone that gives me body hair and lowers my voice and makes me sweat a lot and put me through puberty a second time,” Galo said, loose and playful with his explanation because Evan still seemed pretty far out of it, even if his words were all clearly articulated and coherent. He’d give more scientific answers during an actual, informative talk. “It's the hormone associated with masculinity; so I’m ‘on T’ because my body doesn't produce enough of it naturally.”

“Like a vitamin supplement?”

“Almost, yeah, but instead of taking a pill I give myself a shot every Saturday.”

Evan visibly paled at that, and Galo felt his hackles raise. Ugh, stupid, just because Evan seemed to be more relaxed didn't mean Galo could waltz around making careless mistakes. What had he said to set him off? Nothing had implied Galo was going to hurt Evan, had it? But that must be it, that was always it; what..?

“Easy, Evan, easy, I’m not going to hu--”

“You give yourself shots!?”

“I--yes?”

“Every week?”

“Yyyyyes?”

“Why!?”

Oh, right, Evan had said earlier that he hated needles. “Because needles don't bother me and if I don't my body’s hormone levels go bad real fast.” Galo shrugged. “It was uncomfortable at first but now it's just part of my routine. Like shaving or yoga Mondays.” He honestly didn't even think about it anymore, but he remembered when he was a kid, he’d had a diabetic friend and he had been horrified the first couple of times he’d seen him poke himself. So like, he got where Evan was coming from, more or less, he was just really desensitized to it now.

“You need--sir, yes Master, sorry Master,” Evan said, looking down on the ‘sir’ and very clearly just remembering who it was he was talking to.

“No biggie,” Galo said, going for casual, hoping this would roll off like the other times Evan shrunk in on himself earlier. The mood seemed to stick, though, and Galo very purposefully did not sigh. “I was thinking of heading out and grabbing lunch for myself. You gonna be alright if I leave you here alone for,” Galo wiggled his hand side to side, “an hour?”

“Yes Master.”

Galo winced a little at that. So long chill-drugged Evan, nice chatting with you. “Cool, back in a bit, hit the button if you need anything from the nurses.”

“Yes Master.”

Galo grimaced. Ugh, fuck, he’s done this with Greyson, too, that first night, taking it too easy and freaking ‘em out.

Fuck. But it’d been nice while it lasted, Evan sorta-calm with lowered inhibitions, actually talking to Galo like a person. He flexed his hand, the one that had been held.

Fuuuuuuck Evan hoped they eased up on the dose moving forward. His brain was lagging so far behind his big mouth and he felt stupid as shit. Also calm, which wasn't theoretically a bad thing but when his Master was in the room calm was a bad thing!

It didn't feel like a bad thing, but his dumb drugged brain knew it was a bad thing whenever his dumb drugged brain decided to get it's dumb drugged ass in gear. Bluh. At least Master didn't seem mad that Evan had been acting up. Evan stabbed the cantaloupe with a pout. The moment he could go off painkillers he would. He could handle pain, but his dignity wasn't gonna make a comeback from this.

Of course, the overwhelming majority of him didn't give a shit about dignity at the moment. The overwhelming majority of his shitty little person was mad because he was alone in a hospital and every shadow that passed his door set him on edge and he wanted his Master back in the room. Pansy ass bitch.

He finished his food and laid back with a sigh. He hoped Nyla was okay.

When he woke up again he had no memory of falling asleep. Fucking shit he hated this. But he also still felt oddly good, super even. His Master was back in the chair, staring at his phone, and didn’t seem to notice Evan had woken up. So he just. Stared at him. He was so big. He wasn’t touching Evan anywhere, which was a relief, but he also wasn’t touching Evan anywhere, which was something he wanted to change again. He liked holding his hand. He should absolutely not beg to hold his Master’s hand a third time, like some annoying, clingy, crying child who was scared of the dark.

Why would anyone willingly give themself a shot? Multiple shots. Frequently. Evan couldn’t fathom it. “You’re really strong,” he said, because his Master was able to enact things with careless ease that took all of Evan’s strength and force of will to even endure.

Master Galo looked up from his phone, and smiled. “Yeah, I sure am, man. Work out every day.”

“You give yourself shots,” Evan clarified, realizing his mistake again.

Master Galo bit his lip and ducked his head, breath going all funny for a second. Evan didn’t smile, but he felt almost like he did. “Yeah, I do. We’re still on that?”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, nothing to be sorry for. Just wanna make sure we’re on the same page, easy Evan.”

“Oh I am so easy right now,” Evan said enthusiastically, then made a sour face. “What am I on?”

“I don’t know but I think stabbed-Evan should’ve definitely gotten the chance to meet no-wisdom-teeth-Galo,” Master Galo joked, and Evan laughed, because he got the joke! Master must have felt super great and weird then, too.

“Oh we’re feeling good,” Master Galo remarked, sounding pleased, and Evan hummed in agreement. “I called the house while I was out,” he mentioned, and Evan sat up a little, leaning on one elbow. “Nyla’s fine,” Evan felt himself relax, “she’s still feeling shaken up but she and the others have been curled up together and they’re glad you’re safe and on the mend. I told them to go ahead and eat dinner without us; we’ll just get something through a window on the drive home, and we’re,” Master Galo checked his phone, “pretty close to the time they balled for us to leave. How’re you feeling?”

“Fantastic. Also bad. And still tired.”

“What’s got you feeling bad, bud?”

“I can’t…” Evan waved his hands in front of his face, trying to express through gestures what he couldn’t find the words for, but decided against it when he lightly smacked himself in the face, nearly poking his own eye. He heard Master Galo snort and he glared at him. Bastard. Except no wait don’t glare at his Master.

“Alright, alright, I think I got the idea,” Master Galo said, and Evan huffed, frustrated. “It’s only temporary. The nurse’ll come take the drip out here shortly, and we can fiddle with how many pills you take at home so you’re not as loopy, sound good?”

“Being stabbed is stupid.” Mistress slicing him open was never like this. But those were all shallow and controlled, and this was deep. Fucking…… fuck bitch.

“It sure is, bud.”

To his Master’s credit, the nurse did arrive in pretty short order, announce Evan good enough to be discharged, and didn’t look at him with mockery or pity when he closed his eyes and looked away as she took the needle out. His clothes were technically good enough to wear out of the hospital, nothing sensitive had been torn open (like Nyla), and Evan didn’t want to wander around wearing a hospital gown, so yeah, he needed to change. But.

“Would you like me to help out, or should I step into the hallway?” Master asked, and that was the fucking dillemma wasn’t it? Evan would need help getting his pants on, and would be in only his underwear between taking the gown off and putting his clothes on, and Evan didn’t want his Master to see him mostly-naked but he also did not want to be left alone and mostly-naked in a room with a stranger.

“...Or maybe I’ll go stand in a corner with my back turned?” Master offered, and Evan wasn’t even proud or wary enough to decline. He dressed, and sat down on the bed, waiting while the nurse went and got the wheelchair over.

“Need help getting in?” she asked patiently, didn’t even sound condescending.

“Please don’t touch me any more,” Evan said pathetically, not answering because yeah, he needed help and he knew he did and if he tried to do it on his own his uncoordinated fucked-up ass was gonna faceplant spectacularly, but no, fucking god please no, he didn’t want any more strangers touching him. He just wanted to curl up around Lilah or Nyla or maybe under Greyson and sleep for five thousand years.

“Okay. Can you make it into the wheelchair on your own?”

No. Evan turned to Master Galo, feeling disgustingly pathetic and reminding himself that his Master liked grovelling, and asked, “Master, please...”

“Yeah, I got you.” Master Galo easily lifted Evan from the bed and set him in the wheelchair, and the nurse made an impressed noise.

“He’s really strong,” Evan remarked to her, and she arched an eyebrow before rounding behind the chair to push him.

“I see. Is that something that comes up a lot?” she asked mildly.

“It’s hot.”

Master Galo made a strangled noise and he was definitely laughing at Evan, Evan who was mortified.

“Not that I think you are,” Evan quickly followed, gesturing at his Master who was keeping an easy stride alongside the chair. “Just that, like, objectively, you’re objectively hot.”

“Thanks,” Master Galo squeaked, shit at hiding the fact that he was still laughing and Evan needed, he needed to--

“Like, to women.”

“Okay.”

“Any woman would be lucky to date you. You’re huge, like, to women.”

“Actually most people find me huge, but thank you. I’m flattered.”

“I’m not flattering, just, like, like art, like how art is hot, like a chiseled statue.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“I’m not gay,” Evan finally said flat out, because it was very important that his Master know that.

“Okay, well it would be alright if you were. I just wouldn’t reciprocate.”

“Look I know I was staring at your nipples a lot earlier but I’m not gay.”

“I believe you, Evan.”

“Would you like to go get your car, sir?” the nurse, who had heard absolutely all of that exchange, asked. Evan officially could never, ever get injured badly ever again in his life, he could never come back here again.

“Yeah, back in a jiffy, bud.” Master Galo jogged off and Evan sat, elbows on the armrests and face in his hands, wondering if maybe he should have just bled out while he had the chance.

Master Galo had to help Evan into the car and Evan hadn't felt this pathetic since his broken rib (and the painkillers Mistress had had him on weren't like this at all, plus they'd only lasted while Evan was in the hospital (the pain was a valuable lesson, after all)). Evan buckled himself while Master thanked the nurse and bid her good day. When Master Galo entered the car, Evan tensed minutely, but all he did was ask Evan where he wanted to eat.

“I don't know,” Evan answered honestly. Mistress was vehemently against fast food, believing chain restaurants were invented by the devil to tempt folk into sin or whatever blah blah reason. Evan honestly couldn't remember. But he did know she was “ethically against them” so his last exposure had been when he was, what, 5 or 6?

Master ended up choosing, and they sat in the car and ate, Evan feeling very uncomfortable at eating with his Master but not having any choice in the matter. Every sensible part of his brain told him he didn't get to eat until Master had finished his meal, and that he shouldn't be eating in the same space as him at all. But also huuuuuur duuuuur beef and ketchup, Evan’s brain was stupid enough to take the edge off his anxiety and just shove the food in his mouth.

Words could not express how relieved he was to finally get home. He wanted to see Nyla and then just sleep.

“Looks like your crutches arrived already,” Master Galo said. “Would you prefer I carry you up to the porch, you lean on me as a crutch, or I could go get them for you and you can walk yourself?”

Evan’s head made him skeptical on his ability to walk himself, but also. Hhh. Touch. “Can I lean on you, Master Galo?” he asked politely.

“Yeah man.” Fuuuuuuck. He couldn't put any weight on his leg at all, which was also stupid. He had to lean all his weight on his Master, reliant, weak, dependent on him for balance and even the simple ability to fucking walk.

He hoped Master Galo had killed that fucker that stabbed him.

The foyer was empty when Master and Evan entered it, Evan on one shoulder and the crutches propped deftly on the other. Master called out, that it was them, that they were home, and hardly a moment later Nyla, in her other dress and smile firmly back in place, swaned into the room. “Master Galo, welcome home,” she greeted, but hesitated.

“No hand-kissing for Nyla, his hands are full,” Evan said, which was supposed to be a thought inside his brain but whoooo there they are. Out in the open where everyone can hear them. Nyla, even through her smile, looked appalled.

“He's on really strong pain meds,” Master Galo said, and Evan pointed up at him with a click of his tongue.

“That.”

“I--see, sir, we can take care of him from here out, Master,” Nyla said, and the other three, who Evan knew had been listening close by, hovering just out of sight so as to avoid crowding Master, hedged into the area. They were worried about Evan, awwww, and he grinned when he laid eyes on Lilah, affection blooming in him.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Master said, setting the box down but not Evan. “I kinda wanna get him down the steps first, but then he's all yours.” Which, admittedly, was a smart idea, because Evan theoretically could make it down while leaning on the railing, but the threat of stumbling was a real one and if he fell on like, Greyson or Sasha, they’d all just go tumbling down the stairs. If Evan stumbled into Master, he doubted he’d even sway.

But he didn't trip! He was just unbearably slow, wasting everyone’s time going down one step by one singular, shuffling step. Lilah propped him up once he was at the bottom, and then, mercifully, Master Galo left.

They waited one, two, three baited breaths, and then the family was on Evan in a rush, their hands on him and their quiet words blurring over each other's until they mutually decided to let Lilah speak first.

“Tell is everything,” she demanded, and Evan raised a thumbs up.

“Will do. But fair warning, I am on so many drugs right now.”

“How many is that?” Lilah asked, her nose all scrunched up.

“Enough to talk to Master about his hot nipples.” Fuck, definitely could've phrased that better.

“You did what?” Nyla asked, Lilah and Sasha seeming struck and Greyson even harder to read when Evan was fucked up like this.

“Okay, lemme rephrase--” Evan blinked hard. “Actually could I maybe do this lying down?”

They got Evan into bed, his body in the middle like it rarely ever was (he preferred to sleep with his back to the wall, facing the doorway). He told them everything he could about the hospital visit, Sasha very frightened when he talked about how often he fucked up, Lilah looking up at him thoughtfully from where she was bundled in his arms. He couldn't read Nyla or Greyson, with his back turned to them, but from how Nyla’s fingers would occasionally curl in his sweater he could guess that she was thinking he was an idiot.

Which was fair. He absolutely was. And the drugs made him extra stupid.

They had spent their day in the room, with Nyla in the center of the bed, only leaving when Greyson answered Master Galo’s phone call and Master had apparently ordered them to watch a movie or something. They had watched Singing in the Rain, which Evan was actually pretty bummed to have missed. It was one of his favorites, and Movie Nights were rare treats.

“Maybe Master’ll let you watch a movie, while you're laid up,” Lilah mentioned, and Evan hummed into her hairline.

“Who knows? He's weird.”

“Yeah, but he's nice,” Lilah said, and Evan would be anxious about that when he was sober, he knew, Lilah buying into their Master’s lies, but at the moment he felt good and warm and very sleepy so he just hummed again, snuggling in a little closer.

In the morning, he realized why they’d had him on so many painkillers.

“Fucking ow.”

179 notes · View notes

fotiathymos · 4 years ago

Note

I liked your headcanon backstory for Lio, when you have the time would you share your idea for Galo's?

Galo's story time! According to random thoughts that occur in my brain to make me upset at night!

Once again, thank you for the interest. And I guess it comes off that I enjoy writing so I hope you enjoy reading. Even when its said. >.> I'd love to discuss with people their ideas still. And once again again... its LONG.

TW emotional abuse, parental death, small racism mention, transphobia mention, bullying, self harm via over working, and again I apologize if I miss anything.

Galo's parents were city dwelling young teens that fell in love and got married months later after dating at barely 19 years old. And it was rough.

His mother was loud, out spoken, take no bullshit kind of girl. She grew up all her life in Promepolis, poor and dirty. She'd get drunk at gay bars, fight with her parents, make out with random people and claimed it was living life to the fullest and if you can't handle that then you are just a prude!

His father recently moved into the city with his father (Galo's grandfather). They lost their home and was moved to Promepolis' shelter.

The recent events of the World Blaze caused many people to be displaced and homeless across the world. And welcoming new comers in the city scared the locals, what if they were Burnish? But with a majority of livable land reduced to deserts, people had to go somewhere.

Galo's father was training to be museum curator assistant. He was well versed in many cultures histories, educated, introverted and always got his way through social interactions via jokes. Upon arriving to the city he was currently jobless, the museum and city he previously called home was burned to the ground. His father was his only family and unfortunately wasn't handling old age well.

Sort of an opposites attract but 'were not so different, you an I' way. They met through friends of a friend. Galo's father wasn't fond of clubs but went anyway. She made him let loose for once in his life and he fell head over heels for her. They connected real fast. They were just 19 and impulsive, but it worked out in the end sorta, and decided if the world is this sucky lets just get married right away.

The reason why Galo was never taken in by any other family members was because 1. Galo's father only had Galo's grandfather, who was living in a home for his health. and 2. Galo's mother was disowned by her parents after hitching up with Galo's dad. She was from a large Italian family. Tight knit. They disapproved of her not dating or marrying an Italian boy from the city. She married a Japanese man. They excommunicated her from the family. Even when Galo was born they refused to see him.

Galo was their 'miracle child'. Kind of playing off how in the movie he was always is in such danger he should've died, it was a miracle Galo was born! His mother went through unfortunate miscarriages before she suddenly had Galo. And even then he was born premature and was held in the hospital on and off for the first 3 years of his life. And he survived! He was their miracle.

The family mostly lived a quiet life. Working multiple jobs in a shitty city apartment, caring for an elderly man and a small child. They knew of the politics and horrors going on in the world but they had no time to think of it. They were just trying to survive day by day. They had no outside support. They had friends but even then, they were busy too. There were fights about money, who is staying home with Galo, why don't we have any food in the fridge, whose taking him to school. They made a rule to never fight in front of Galo but kids still felt tension.

Galo didn't quite know he was different from other kids. He just felt.. wrong. It was discovered he was a boy early on though. Really, his parents had suspicions. Galo would hate being referred to as girly, lived for the idea of tomboy. Even when it conflicted with things he did like, like dolls and dresses. The moment someone said he was a pretty girl in that dress, he threw out the dress, tore it to pieces. He would get irritable when people used words and terms for him he didn't decide for himself. He only ever wore his dresses at home, played with dolls at home. At school he begged to wear baseball t-shirts, have robot notebooks, he'd point to anything in the boys section without much care to what it was, as long as it made him appear 'boy' to the world. His parents sat him down to talk about all this. When it all clicked that their child was transgender, they did all they could to make his life easier. They poured their money into puberty blockers for the time being. Before any further steps would happen.

Galo was bullied heavily at school. He was the 'weird' kid. The 'ugly girl', the 'freak'. Even to teachers who were asked to respect him, they just found him to be a 'troublemaker'. Never paying attention in class, always fidgeting, he'd talk too loud, always asking to go to the bathroom.

'Look at adults when youre talking to them.' 'Stop drawing and pay attention.'

He'd try to go by the rules but the rules always didn't make sense to him. Gender was confusing but school was even more confusing. He was always frustrated. All his attempts at fitting in were hit by walls. No one seemed to understand him. Kids stepped all over him, stealing any cool pencils or books he had. His back pack thrown across the school yard.

And just as his parents hid their worried and hard life from him, he made sure to not worry them about his own struggles.

When the fire happened Galo was around 13 year old. Galo was in bed. There were suddenly flames everywhere and his instincts made him run to his parents room. His mother was trapped inside the bedroom, his father outside. Galo was told to make a quick exit out of the house on his own. And in a panic he fled out the front door and into the worst possible human being.

Everything was pretty much a blur. Galo fell hard into shock when his parents weren't coming out of the building. He honestly was clinging to anything nearby to just.. hold something.. feel something. It just happened to be Kray Foresight.

The news was on the scene and sirens were blaring and Galo was anywhere but on earth in that moment. He was placed in an ambulance with a shock blanket, Kray sat beside him, muttering to himself. The only words Galo caught were something along the lines of ‘how unexpected the world gives things.’

In Kray's world, his sudden fame gave his sabotage and manipulate plan more speed. In Galo's world. Before he could even start his life, it ended.

Galo was sent to live in foster care. His Grandfather unable to support him. Galo got heavy into history when visiting his grandfather. The man had Galo's father history books in storage and Galo was instantly pulled in. Especially in his father's culture which he never got to learn much about. He discovered the history of Hikeshi through the books and it became his biggest interest. some foster care nurses were worried about him getting into firefighting history after suffering from a fire.

Galo would also visit a reluctant Kray very often. The media always ate it up. Kray would pose for pictures and Galo loved the attention. A break from thinking anything bad, he could run around a large empty office while Kray was on calls. Okay, maybe, sometimes he'd get yelled at for being too loud. And Kray would kick him out of the room. But thats just cause he was busy! Galo would talk and talk and talk to Kray about the new things he read in his books, he'd even bring by the books some days! His back pack full. It has to do with firefighting! Kray is working on ways to help prevent burnish fires! Kray would so be interested in Galo's research! So he'd spread out all the books all over Krays desk. Kray would let in some tv people during Galo's visits, maybe so they could see how even Galo, a kid, can be working so hard for a better world!

Galo would notice how different Kray got when it was just them two. Kray would mutter under his breath a lot. Stress from the job probably. Krays outbursts toward Galo only happened when they were alone. clearly Galo was being a bother to him. Kray was a busy man. Galo wasn't helping as much as he should be for Kray. Galo started being more quiet during his visits. He went from jumping around to sitting in the corner of the room, watching Kray work, till he was yelled at to stop staring. Galo would pace the Foundations halls, people watching. How they acted and how he could do the same to impress Kray finally. Show he isn't a kid anymore. That he’s normal.

But Kray wasn't always so stressed out with Galo, sometimes he'd pat Galo's head, buy him a new clothes and video games, have someone drive him back to the foster home in a big fancy car. And one day Kray even started noticing how interested Galo was in firefighting! He even offered to pay for schooling!

Galo hated the foster home system. Instead of dealing with his problems he ran away. He'd run to Kray's office. To visit his grandfather. Just mindlessly wander the city. Being an older child with trauma, adoption wasn't really on his plate. Ageing out seemed to be his only option. But no one ever wanted to just tell him that was the case. Giving false hopes for a better life.

Being bullied in school was easy compared to being bullied by other foster kids. They all hated Galo for being Krays 'favorite'. Galo was given a special room because Kray paid for it. Galo was bought clothes and video games and taken on drives in fancy cars! It was common for Galo to come back to his bedroom trashed. The first Matoi made out of card board and scrap fabric... suddenly found burning in the buildings front yard.

Galo would try and try and try to fit in. To be accepted. To have friends. So he started letting other kids come join him in the fancy car rides. He'd give others his clothes, pretending they were gifts. He'd help others by doing their chores. And suddenly everyone needed Galo.

When Galo's grandfather passed on due to old age. Galo felt more hopeless. His Grandfather was having memory issues in his old age, so Galo visited less, he could handle being mistaken for his mother, or asked who he even was. Galo felt so useless. And then the last piece of his family died and he, once again, was useless.

He was 16years old now. And felt so very stuck. As he was getting closer and closer to aging out of the system Galo was slowly accepting he had his own dreams of being a firefighter now. To help people who befell such a horrible situation that he himself suffered. He also wanted to impress Kray with his studies and maturity. He got to work. He got a job at the foster home, secretly got a front desk job at the Foundation, did small odd jobs around the city. All at 16-17. 18 years old was moving closer and closer. He wouldn’t eat or sleep and his body would ache everyday. But. He didn't want to be stuck and be useless.

Galo wanted to talk to Kray about helping him with top surgery. After the fire he got off puberty blockers, and after many many therapy sessions with the foster homes nurse did he start hormone replacement therapy. He honestly thought Kray already knew Galo wasn't cis from when he was 13 years old. But it seems he keeps forgetting. Kray was told about it by a nurse but he didn't mention it again. So Kray must not care that Galo was trans! He'd surely be excited and proud when he finds out how hard Galo worked up the money and how mature he was for all his research.

Kray was livid.

Calling Galo impulsive as always. Galo was working 2 years on this, and was researching for even longer. But.. I guess it was still 'impulsive' of him. Kray said it was too huge a thing to do to ones body. Galo understood that. Does that mean he can't go through with it? Yes, it was a big change but thats what Galo wanted. Kray just stated the obvious. Galo just wanted support for it. Galo explained as calmly as he could to Kray. Kray didn't seem to budge. Galo was too nervous about doing it without Kray's support. So he just sulked for months. Til one day, Kray said he found a surgeon. And Galo was elated! The news the next day had a big article on how Kray was still being a hero to the small boy he saved years ago.

Galo had some extreme abandonment issues. He conformed all his life to fit into a role, a job, a way he was expected to be for whoever he was talking to. He struggled with his own identity from a young age and with how different the world continued to act towards him it was hard for him to find his own place of comfort. It was always someone elses comfort he had to focus on. Joining Burning Rescue enhanced that feeling. He was meant to save and help others. And he was happy with that. It gave him purpose, pride, and reason to keep living.

Night terrors and sleep paralysis started immediately after the fire. During his foster home days, he was known to be awake at all hours of the night. Playing video games, reading, wandering around, doing exercise. anything to think of anything that wasn't that night. That wasn't how he's failing, how he wasn't liked, how he wasn't 'normal'.

He'd apologize after every time he got too excited and his voice got loud. Kray would always yell or give him a look from that. Kray wasn't subtle about how disinterested he was in Galo's interests. Galo would talk and talk and Kray would grunt and mumble under his breath and then slam the books off his desk nonchalantly. Galo would shut up. Galo had trouble understanding when the right time to speak was, what if he was too loud, what if he said something wrong.

Self deprecating humor was his go to in social interactions. If he said how annoying and stupid he was first then when they say it, it won't hurt that much. Or well, its just a joke, he doesn't really hate who he is! Right?

Galo's self harm was in working too much. Sleeping too little. He'd appear as a workaholic, invested in his passions. He'd be important and useful and he convinced himself that the aches werent there or werent too bad. His forgetfulness from lack of sleep was just him being stupid.

After Parnassus. He dealt with his issues more. Sort of. He'd become invested in helping Lio in helping the Burnish. Helping Lio with Lio's traumas and aches and lack of sleep.

But Lio was also invested in helping Galo.

Lio.. listened to him. Galo would talk and talk and talk and Lio could repeat the information back days later. Lio asked to hear more about certain subjects. Lio snap at Galo everytime he made a self hating joke. Galo still suffered nightmares and traumas but he wasn't alone this time. Truely wasn't alone. He finally had someone, and even more then just Lio, actually checking in on him, visiting him. Instead of Galo running to find someone to connect to and meeting brick walls.. he was slowly starting to have someone run to him.

Lio was the first person Galo would talk to about his parents. About the fun board game nights they had together. How his mother would let Galo wear make up and dresses but still refer to him as a boy when asked. How his father would let Galo stay up way to late watching old movies with him.

Galo had his own issues to deal with but he was in love with Lio intensely. Someone understood him when no one else would. But he couldn't always trust his own head, it always seemed to give the wrong answers about how others felt. But he just felt Lio loved him back. Lio just needed time. And there were days and months where Galo felt it was entirely one sided. That no one could love a fool like him.

But Lio would always end up doing something, as if reading Galo's mind, that showed he cared for Galo and that Galo's negative thoughts were just that, negative thoughts.

OKAY I feel like i could write forever and I def went all over the place. Im def missing some big points and thoughts. I hope this is at least readable. I'm sleepy. I'm going to bed.

I hope it wasn't too long or too weird or too much. idk where i was going with it and well i started writing with out a goal in mind. Just getting thoughts out really. Enjoy??And please talk to me about your thoughts. Anon or not anon. But thank you again for being even vaguely interested!! I know its not like.. fun or prob a popular idea for the most part.

#boop answers #no tags no time #i must go LIE DOWN #Anonymous

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