#boys gotta eat!! boys gotta have his supper!!!

[firstaidspray]

Red Dead Redemption 2

Javier Escuella 5/???

[cum-rade]

They should invent an oven that preheats and unheats in less than an hour

[feverchart]

peach time……

[windmill-ghost]

Olimar is a completely normal guy who definitely isn't stealing company property to eat it.

Totally innocent!

[vicariousresearcher]

Neighbour!141 and how they get your attention.

Neighbour!Price who is constantly offering you help. Sees some furniture boxes at your door and is offering to put it together for you. No? Well surely you need some tools at least, make it all easier. No no he doesn’t mind truly. He doesn’t want you trying to fix everything up with just an allen key now does he?

Shovels your side walk, up to your door even. When you come to him the next day all apologetic and saying that you were just about to do it, seriously he didn’t need to. He just brushes you off saying that ‘birds don’t need to be out doin that.' It‘s okay, he was doing his anyway. 

Listening when you complain about your shitty landlord who has yet to do anything about your faulty water heater. You’re in those shorts he’s only seen through the window, arms crossed and rambling as he thumbs at the valves. 

“It’s a no go bird. You gotta buy a whole new heating element and get it put in dere. If you’re needin to, you can shower at my place till this gets figure’d out ya?”

Neighbour!Kyle who honestly you see more outside of your neighbourhood than in it. You have no clue how but you two always end up in the same place at the same time. 

Grocery shopping? Oh he's here too, it has the best deals on produce! Excursion? Oh he just wanted to see the new exhibit at the aquarium just like you, great minds think alike. Eating something in your favourite cafe during your lunch break? He slides in the seat across from you with a playful smile saying ‘how its nice to see you here neighbour’. 

You don’t even know he slipped a tracker in your purse during one of these bump ins.

That's how it starts. A friendship with a man you apparently have so much in common with. You have to with how much you see him at your favourite places. Even that niche little diner that you love as soon as you mention it he’s finishing off its name and talking about how their sweets are so good.

“What do you mean you haven’t had any? Want me to grab you some next time I go-actually no how about we just go together. I need to see what else you’ve been depriving yourself of. Come on, we’ll go in the evening when it’s nice and quiet so it’ll just be us.”

Neighbour!Johnny who sees the sweet thing living next door and knows he needs to get his hands on you. But he’s smarter than those pretty eyes and dumb grin would let you think. He wants you to come to him. He just needs to prove what a prize he is first. 

So he finds every chance possible to workout outside. 

Deliberately does his stretches for his morning run where you’ll be able to see while you make your coffee for the morning. Absolutely chuffed when he makes eye contact with you while he’s mid shirt pull. The way you go bug eyed when caught ogling has him ready wanting to ask if you liked the show.

Now, god forbid you have a dog. He’s making friends through the fence, coming up to your door offering to take the sweet thing on a walk if you want. Truly he would love to have a running buddy please let him take your pupper out. It becomes normal enough that you don’t even bat an eye when he’s offering to take your baby out when you’re not home. 

“I don’t mind taking my boy out once in a while. His mama’s busy but I’m not. Where’d you say you keep your outside key?”

Neighbour!Simon who quickly learns that he can’t offer to help you round because it comes off as….creepy. He’s the one you think is going to tag you with a tracker or follow you to work. The one that has you holding your keys between your fingers when pulling in at night.

So he takes a different approach. Needy, confused, and helpless. A military man entirely unacquainted with domestic duties.

He’s pathetic in a stuck racoon kind of way. You know you shouldn’t trust him but the way you’ve heard his smoke alarm go off 3 times in the time you’ve been here has you messaging if he wants some of your supper since you made too much. You catch yourself adding far more while cooking just so you have something to drop off to his doorstep. 

You don’t even know how it happened but now you’re in his kitchen teaching him how to make some easy meals with your chicken marinade recipes. Something he won’t burn or over salt. He’s got you rambling away, so blissfully unaware. Safe in his home, so trusting of him now.. He’s made so much improvements with you, no more scurrying away the minute he’s a couple feet away. 

“‘m sorry for needin so much from ya. If there's anything I can do just message me ya? Don’t matter what time, I’ll come. Anything you need.”

[paleo-cafnir]

Boys gotta eat, boys gotta have his supper

[waihtie]

Olá todos

Season 4 Episode 20 - The Rapture

Well that sounds important

○ Dean dreaming. Cas shows up. Says they need to talk somewhere "more private" like they aren't literally in his head. How else could they do it to ensure no one's listening in? He passed him a note.

○ Can we all acknowledge Misha's absolutely amazing acting skills. I love this man so much. Like yeah, that is definitely not Cas.

○ Also, where's Cas?

○ Dean wants to return Jimmy to his family. Sam wants to keep him to figure out what's up with the big Angel fight that clearly went down

Dude just wants to see them 💔💔

But the boys won't let him go home. It's too dangerous. Demons and angels are going to want to know what's up too.

I could listen to Jimmy's response to that alllllll day. Misha's voice and acting are so amazing

○ He snuck out

○ So did Sam

Needed to get his demon blood fix. Gross. (Dean still doesn't know that's a thing)

The lack of sexual tension between Dean and Jimmy is so funny

○ Anna just popping in. That was funny. She's still so bland. Especially when you think of these moments between them and Cas.

She says Cas was sent to heaven. And it's a painfully bad thing.

She needs to figure out what Cas wanted to say. Needs them to get Jimmy back.

○ Poor Jimmy.

*Flashback*

His wife thought he was having mental issues bc he believed an angel was talking to him

He gave up his family for Castiel (but made him promise his family would be okay)

Damn the obvious difference between Jimmy and Cas again. I love you, Misha.

*Back to the present*

"We stopped looking for you"

She won't let him see his daughter either

"I was in a psych clinic"

It wasn't even his fault. He couldn't have popped in to see them or called them and they can't even know that.

○ Sam is trying to hit up his dealer (Ruby) bc he's needing his fix

○ Awe Jimmy gets to eat supper with his family

Awee he lost all his faith

He's crying bc he's happy. I'm so sad bc I know he doesn't stick around.

And of course demons are after him. And his family.

And his wife saw him clock him while saying he's a demon. She thinks he's actually insane 💔💔

The boys coming in to save them

(Sam was too weak to kill one psychically. Must need the blood to keep him strong)

Sam telling Jimmy that he either goes as far away from his family as possible or puts a bullet in his own head 💔💔💔 He's angry. Damn withdrawal.

Jimmy has to say goodbye to his family 😭😭 (they believe him now)

SHIT. Jimmy's wife is possessed by a demon. Poor little Claire.

○ Jimmy yelling out to Cas 💔💔😭💔

He's gotta save his family from demons

WOAH Cas is using little Claire as a vessel and kicking everyone's ass. Knew he'd step up

○ oh. Dean seeing Sam go crazy for demon blood.

○ Jimmy forced to be a vessel for Cas again so that it's not Claire being the vessel 💔💔💔💔💔😭😭😭😭💔💔😭💔😭

"You won't die. Or age." Neither of those things are true

○ "I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean"

Oh they DEFINITELY fucked with my boy's brain

○ Sam waiting for Dean to get angry. Yell at him. Punch him. Dean doesn't have it in him.

THEY LOCKED HIM IN A REINFORCED ROOM. That's a harsh rehab.

It's interesting how every time Cas goes to heaven (by choice or by being dragged again) after this, it's in the vessel

I feel IMMENSELY sorry for Jimmy and his family.

I love all his scenes tho. I love Misha's acting soo much. And his non-Cas voice. And how he looks. And everything.

And he looked DAMN FINE this entire episode

(My being in love with Misha Collins fuels my watching of the show. You'll have to bear with me)

Tiktok I like of Jimmy

[lunajay33]

New World🍂Part.8

Summary: Reader is sick but the group have been on the road thankfully the prison is found but will that help?

Part.7

•Masterlist•

Rick and Daryl were out scouting the area while Maggie and Glenn were watching over you, the deer had helped a bit but it still wasn’t enough food to keep you feeling well, atleast not well enough to get up and help

“Hey love” Maggie said sitting next to you handing you a bottle of water

“Hi Mags”

“Feeling any better?”

“Ya I think I’ll be fine, just hope we find somewhere”

“We will, Daryl’s trying really hard you know he’s really worried about you”

“I hate making him feel like that, I just want a home with him, this isn’t how I imagined how our relationship would be” you said upset at the thought

“What did you imagine?” She asked rubbing your back

“Ever since we were teens I imagined us getting together, having a little cabin like house, he’d come home from the garage he worked at, all happy to be home and hold me until we made supper together, I still love him obviously I just wanted us to be happier” you admitted not knowing Daryl and Rick had just entered the run down house, back from the scouting hearing everything you just said

You looked up seeing Daryl approaching you, he knelt down pulling you into his chest

“Hey baby, anything good?” You asked

“Ya” he said still holding you

“We found a prison, think we can work together and get all the walkers out, we can make it secure” Rick said

It seemed tough but it was the only thing we had just hoping it worked Rick made a plan and we all went to the prison, it wasn’t that far actually, you went up one of the guard towers with Daryl once everyone was in their spots everyone started shooting, you tried your best, you took down a few but the others were in better stamina and got the rest of them as Rick locked the gates This outer field was secure for now, you all climbed down the towers and met in the middle setting up camp for the night

“Tomorrow we’ll push in more, for now we rest and eat” Rick said as everyone laid out their blankets

You and Daryl sat on you blanket, you laid between his legs against his chest with his arms tight around you, he took another blanket and threw it over you both, ever since you got sick from the low iron you got really cold easily and his warmth always helped

“You’re so warm, I love cuddling you” you said resting your head on his chest

“Ya sure yer warm enough?” He asked holding you closer running his hand through your hair

“Ya I’m good……hey you remember that time in middle school wear that boy was picking on me, pulling my hair and everything calling me ugly and you came and beat him up for me?” you asked randomly remembering this fond memory

“Oh ya, that lil ass deserved it cause yer far from ugly peach, everyone knew that” he whispered making you blush

“Stop no they didn’t, if I recall there were some girls that were fond of you through out the years” you said playing with his shirt

“Nah not me” he grunted

“Come on D you were so handsome, your little country accent that showed through when you were mad, the sleeveless shirts, wish they could see you now, so strong and even more handsome, and oh so sexy” you said making him laugh hiding his face in your hair

“I love ya peach”

“I love you too D” You all sat around the fire for the rest of the evening loving the warmth, still cuddling Daryl until Carl came over sitting infront of you munching on his food looking at you like a little puppy, you sat up as Daryl wrapped his arms around your hips, still sitting between his legs

“Hey sweetie, what’s up?” You asked not having had many conversations with him but he was a sweet kid

“Are you feeling better?” He asked holding his plate out for me

“Yes I’m getting a bit better and you keep your food sweetie, gotta be fed to grow and be a strong man” you said making him smile

“I was worried about you, mom says you probably won’t make it” he said and your heart dropped then feeling Daryl’s hands tighten around you

“She said that?” Daryl asked and you could hear the anger

“Ya, she said y/n was holding us back and the walkers would get her but I didn’t think so, you’re a survivor y/n plus I don’t wanna lose anyone else” he said getting a bit sad

“Oh sweetie you’re not gonna lose me I’m gonna be alright, now keep your head up” you said smiling at him, he gave you a hug and went back to Lori as you laid back against Daryl thinking about what Carl said

‘Was I really holding the group back, I was sick and I was trying my best’ you thought to yourself

“She ain’t right ya know, we all understand, never leave ya behind” Daryl said knowing you were worrying about it

“I’m really trying, I’m sorry” you said hating to feel like a burden

“Ain’t gotta be sorry, ya listen to me, I won’t let anyone hurt ya, I won’t leave ya, none of us will, we adore ya peach, now stop worryin that lil head and get ta sleep” he said kissing your lips gently even infront of people which was rare, and soon you were off to sleep

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning to dewy grass and an arm draped over your waist still being curled up in Daryl, the sun was still low in the sky, not yet risen the little birds chirping, everything was peaceful for a moment until the walkers groaning caught your attention ruining everything

You sighed hating that sound, you just wanted them gone you wanted your old world back with Daryl, you wanted suppers together again and occasional sleepovers where you’d get to wear his big comfy shirts or when he’d stay at your place you’d give him facials even though he groan about it, you wanted your life back, but you couldn’t tell Daryl he’s been working so hard and no matter what he said you still felt like a burden to him

Daryl started moving behind you waking up

“Morning Peach”

“Morning” I said putting my hand back to rub his check

“Ya ready for today?!” He asked placing his hand on your lower belly for some reason he’s started to do that but you didn’t mind

“Yes, I’m hoping this place can be something, something for us to build”

“It will, we can make it a home, I’ll do that fer ya”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and some others waited outside the gate as the strongest ones got into the prison and after some time they came back out letting us in, saying it was secure

You were shocked by how big the block was, it was dirty but with help you could all clean it up and make it nice, as nice as you could Everyone claimed a cell but Daryl didn’t want a cell, feeling like a tomb so he decided to take the perch, but you could turn it around so you pull two mattresses from cells placed them on the perch and threw your blankets over them, you laid down as Daryl came back laying back next to you

“Made yerself at home quick” he said laughing

“I’m just happy we found this place”

“Me too baby, but me and the other are gonna find the kitchen so I’ll be back soon” he said kissing my forehead before he was off

Soon Carl was walking up the stairs and sitting in the mattress by me

“I’m bored” he huffed

“Well what can I do?”

“Wanna play truth or dare?” He asked excited

“Sure sweetie”

“Okay truth or dare?”

“Hmmmmm…I’ll say truth”

“Have you always loved Daryl?”

“Well when we met as kids I liked him as a friend but when we got to be teenagers I started to see how much I do love him, only at the farm did we finally share our feelings with each other” you said smiling remembering the little crush you had as a kid

“Really, so like you’re soulmates?”

“I think so, I’d do anything for him”

“I don’t think my parents are soulmates”

“Why do you say that?”

“They don’t talk much and when they do they fight” he said sighing

“Sweetie not everyone is soulmates but that doesn’t mean they don’t love each other in a different way and sometimes it’s better to let eachother go than be sad, but whatever happens nothing is your fault” you said see that made him a bit happier having worked as a teacher you had some kids over the years have problems with parents that you tried to help cheer up the kids

The game kept going back and forth until he got bored again and went to find someone else so you decided to nap, maybe one day you could have a kid of your own and show them true soulmates

—///—///—///—///—///—///—///—

Taglist: @deansapplepie @i-wear-wet-socks313 @ghostboneswrites @writer-ann-artist @thebadbatch2022

Part.9<-

[queensqueercourt]

little yeen for my fursona's toyhouse page! boys gotta eat boys gotta have his supper

[websterss]

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

It had been the middle of the night. Peter didn’t know how long he had been running for. The eerie trees caused his heart to increase in beats. The more he ran forward, the more he began to realize that he was going deeper into the woods. Sweat ran down his forehead all the way to his neck.

Peter knew the reasons why he was running. He couldn’t stay in that orphanage any longer, the scratchy sheets and hard matted beds. The rude staff, and the scary mistress who runs the place. He could no longer bear it. No longer could he tolerate being called a freak. The mistress locked him in the basement. She noticed how he scratched up the floorboards last time, which resulted in him not getting to eat supper. It was madness there. Which is why he ran, he ran with no actual idea where he was going.

Peter stopped short as he ran out of breath. He held himself up with a tree for support. He could slowly feel it again. The effect of the moon shining down on him. He couldn’t control himself when the change happened. It began when he was around five. He was hard enough to control his shift as it was. His mom and dad were always there to help him when he was scared. Ever since the house fire, he’s had a hard time. There weren’t any parents to reassure him anymore. “No, no, no. Please, please, not again.” He pleaded as he groaned in pain. The more he resisted the more it hurt. “Ahhh.” He greeted his teeth as he hunched over.

If anyone were to pass by they would see a little boy in pain, not the thing he was about to turn into.

“Ahhh.” He growled as he arched back and looked up to the moon. His eyes now a golden amber. He then took off again.

-

Tony Stark was a man of many things. A genius if some would. A fearless leader to some. An alpha. His way of reasoning to become an alpha was not something he liked to talk about. You become one from being true, or you end up taking it from the one who was before. Tony could have taken his power, but he refused to go down the same path his own father did. In the end, his power was all-natural.

“How long do you think they’ll be fine?” Tony sat in his back porch hands behind his head. His backyard leading towards the woods where his pack was out wandering the night.

As he said that four howls could be heard. Tony let out an exaggerated sigh. “Gosh, I have to do everything around here.” He got up from his chair and leaned over to Pepper. “Be back for dinner hun, gotta go show these youngsters whose alpha.” He joked. With that, he took off in a sprint.

“Be careful!” He heard over his shoulder.

He went deeper into the woods turning and avoiding stumps and logs like the back of his hand. He slowed his pace when he smelt his pack near. Curiosity definitely got the better of him when he noticed some of his members trying to contain someone in their hold. Harley, one of his newer additions came up to him in a hurry.

“Tony you have to come quick!” He began tugging him by his sleeve.

Various voices of his pack calling out different things at once.

“Tony.”

“Thank god!”

“You have to see this.”

“He’s out of control man!”

“Where’d he even come from?”

“Tony!”

“He’s a beta!” Harley smiled excitedly.

“Everyone quiet!” He spoke out in an authoritative voice.

He made his way to the front of this circle and was surprised to see that it was only a child. A very frightened one.

“Head back home everyone, Harley stay with me.” No one wasted a second to leave the three of them.

Once Tony was sure they were all gone he turned back to the boy who was still shifted. His eyes a bright blood red. Peter’s heart picked up. He was an alpha. 

“I-I can’t…control it.” He groaned out.

“That’s okay. It’s okay.” Tony spoke softly. “What’s your name kid?” 

“P-Peter. Parker.” Peter tried to even out his breathing but it was no use. 

“Tony Stark…you’ve always had a hard time controlling your shift?” Peter nodded yes. “Mom and dad never teach you?”

“They died.” Peter closed his eyes tightly shut. He curled his claws into his palm.

Tony noticed this and reached a hand out to stop him. He uncurled the boy’s hand and noticed the indented prints on his palm.

“Does it always work?”

“S-Sometimes. P-Pain reminds me I’m still me.” 

“Ever try a mantra?”

“Mantra?” Peter kept his eyes shut.

“Like a saying. Wanna try one, it might help.” Peter hesitated then immediately nodded his head.

“Okay repeat after me…The sun, the moon, the truth.” 

“The sun, the moon, the truth….” 

“Good again.” Tony smiled gently.

“The sun, the moon, the truth….”

“Again.”

“The sun, the moon, the truth….”

“One more time…”

“The sun, the moon, the truth….” Slowly one by one Peter’s claws, fangs, ears, and eyes began to retract, and turn back to normal. “The sun, the moon...” Peter’s breath evened out and he slowly opened his eyes to reveal his coffee brown ones.

“There he is!” Tony nodded proudly of him.

“What does that mantra mean?”

“I don’t know. A friend let me borrow it. The mantra is supposed to help calm down. The sun, the moon and the truth, represent the three things that cannot long be hidden. It’s a good calming exercise so you don’t lash out…and from the looks of it, it worked!”

“Trust me it works.” Harley reassures him.

Peter nodded and looked from Harley to the man in front of him.

“Why were you in the woods? Were you running?”

“Yeah.” Peter looked down at his lap.

“You got a pack kid? Anything on you perhaps?” 

“N-No I don’t even have a birth certificate. Everything I had was destroyed in the house fire.” Peter looks at his lap.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that much longer kid.” Tony stands up with Harley.

“Oh lordy, where are my manners? Kid, Harley.” He bops Harley on the head. “Harley meet Peter Parker.”

“Hi.” Peter accepts Harley’s hand. Peter begins to dust off the dirt and ground off his shorts and tank top.

“Hey.”

“Looks like you’re in need of an upgrade. Nothing a little shopping can’t fix.” Tony shrugs it off like it’s nothing. Peter looks up amazed. “How about a new set of clothes? Shoes, hats. You like hats, kid? Harley has like five.”

“T-Thank you.” Peter whispers.

Tony can see that the poor kid is about to cry.

“Don’t mention it. Come on kids, it’s getting late, two young betas don’t need to be out this late in the woods. You don’t know what’s out there.” Tony put his arms around the two boys and ushered them in front of him.

Peter felt this ease inside of him. A new feeling of comfort, security, and safety. Maybe things would turn out to be better. The three walked in silence until Harley turned his head to look at him.

“You like Star Wars?”

[southernbelllle]

Kinship

Prompt: Jackson and Reiben talk about the home they're not sure they'll ever get back to.

Word Count: 1.2k

AN: Diana asked me to write this a few days ago, so here it is! Hope you all enjoy!

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this pic has nothing to do with the fic...I just think its funny . Hes like :0.

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Miller had taken most of the squad out to explore the abandon radio station. The men marched around the giant metal beams and empty chairs. They had already exterminated any sign of German life, the only thing left to do was nest up for the night. Everyone had seemed to busy themselves with disrobing their gear or cleaning their firearms.

Jackson and Reiben however had already made their “beds” (a fire blanket and a few plump weeds bent over themselves) for the night. Even though it was not much to rest their tired heads on, they were thankful for another opportunity to rest for the night.

“So tell me cowboy,” Reiben had begun to stoke a small fire with a few twigs. “You ever have any nights like this back home?”

“Wull, that depends Reiben,” Jackson scooted himself closer to the fire Reiben was working to make. “I done slept outside plenty of times. Nighttime in Tennessee is just too purdy. Never been on the run from nothin’ out here though.”

“Oh c’mon, your tellin’ me that ya never once in ya hick life slept outside a bear cave or nothin?” Reiben laughed, only half joking about the preposterousness of the suggestion.

Jackson also shared a humorous chuckle, “I dun know what you think goes on in Tennessee but, we ain’t cavemen. Hell, I ain’t even really that much a cowboy.”

Reiben widened his eyes in amused confusion, his brows threatening to reach his hairline.

“You? Not a cowboy? Whaddya gonna tell me next, ya didn’t suck ya mama’s teat as a toddlah?”

All Jackson could do was chuckle and glance down at the ground he sat on, “I’m sure I did at some point, but I don’t hunt for sport or tind cattle or nothin’. I’m a small farmer boy who hunts for supper not sport.”

“Supper not sport eh?” Reiben’s fire had now reached the size in which an auburn glow illuminated the two men’s faces. “What kinda farmin’ dya do?”

“Soybeans, Corn, and Tobacco. We got a few hogs we’ll either butcher or enter in the fair, but we don’t sell em’.” Jackson listed on his fingers, a ghost of homesickness creeping in his eyes.

“Aye no way! I work at my Uncle’s butcher shop back home in Brooklyn.” Reiben felt excited to finally have an opportunity to talk about his home. “Ever since I was a lil’ joey I was trimmin’ and packin’ with the big dawgs.” A fondness shinned from the smile that graced his face.

“Aw that’s mighty cool, Reiben! What kinda meat didja work with?” Jackson asked with genuine intrigue.

“Awll uh it.” Reiben replied with the same subtle enthusiasm, “From a Bull to Rabbit I can butcher ‘bout anything.”

“We eat rabbit back home all the time! I’m amazin’ at shootin’ em’ before they can hop away. I’m the only one inna family who can.” Jackson motioned his sniper rifle with his hands, “POW!”

“The thing ‘bout rabbit, is that ya gotta prepare it just the right way, if ya leave it in the oven for too lowng, it gets way too chewy to eat. Ya gotta slow cook it.”

“Hell yeah ya do, anybody who cooks it any other way needs their head kicked in.” The two men laughed together.

“Tell me more about this Tennessee, Jackson. You makes it sound like a Hell of a place.” Reiben stoked the fire once again.

“Well I grew up inna East. Right smack dab in the middle of the Smokey Mountains.” He kicked his feet out in front of him. “I live on the Tennessee River; a small log cabin I share with my Ma, Pa, and sisters.”

“No way you got sisters, bumpkin,” Reiben joked.

“Yup and they’re all bumpkins too so don’t get your hopes up.” Jackson pointed his finger at Reiben with a teasing grin.

Reiben threw his hands up in cheeky surrender and chuchkled. “Easy, easy I would neveah, I would nevah!”

Jackson felt his humor turn to curiosity, “Go on and tell me somethin’ ‘bout life in Brooklyn. I ain’t never been up in your neck of the woods before.”

“I live in an apartment on Park slope with my lady. My uncle’s butcher shop is just a few blocks away, so her and I usually walk down ‘ere together.” He smiled, looking through Jackson and seeing her. “Man, my lady.”

“I got a girl back home too.” Jackson spoke up “She’s a real beauty. Dime a damn dozen that girl is.”

A silence fell upon the men as they thought back to the women who were waiting back home. Those poor girls, blind faith leading them to believe in the rare reality that their men make it home from such a distraught place.

“Yeah?” Reiben attempted to break the silence with a flush of humor. “She raised in a bawn too?”

Jackson let out the exhale of a laugh caught off guard. “If she was, I’m sure glad it was the one closest tah mine.” He jested. “God made me a weapon, but he made me hers first.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Reiben said as he brought his canteen up to his lips. He gulped a big swallow of his water. “Ya know I worry about what exactly my girl has comin’ to her.”

“Whaddya mean?” The country boy asked. In truth, he knew exactly what Reiben meant. He just didn’t know how to put it into words.

“Bein’ here… ya know, it sucks the soul outta ya. I’m sure ya’ve felt it.” Reiben explained. “I’ve always been a fighter, a cusser, an argumentative guy ya know?”

Jackson nodded.

“But bein’ here,” he paused, and then shook his head. “I just feel like it’s chewed me up and spit me out ass first.”

“Ya got that right.” Jackson felt a sharp pang in his heart. “My girl, she’s real classy. Country, but classy. She’s sweet too. Like a soft peach just a danglin off the branch, I picked her.” He stopped talking for a moment. "I'm 'fraid she'll think me a Godless killer when I get back."

Another profound silence dilled the atmosphere.

“Man, you got a metaphor for everything!” Reiben once again dropped a dash of humor in the coldness of the conversation.

“C’mon down to Tennessee man! You’ll learn all our lil country-isms.” The two men laughed together.

“Yeah same to you bumpkin,” the nickname had now escaped it’s formerly negative connotation and transformed into that of a loving one, “If we make it outta here and you find yaself up in Brooklyn, don’t hesitate.” He took another swig of his canteen, interrupting his drink by a spur of the moment memory, “I’ll even take you to this bagel shop down on the corner. You ain’t never had salmon like that before.”

“Now I’ma grillin’ sonofabitch now,” Jackson got up and stabbed his rifle down into the dirt, resting his helmet atop the gun. It’s shadow from the fire stood tall in the midnight sky. He was shirtless and ready for bed.

The two continued to chat up a storm before their sergeant Horvarth marched over to them from the station. “We move out in four hours,” Horvath started. “Cap says lights out.”

Reiben shot off, “Aye sarg, you gotta anyone waitin; on ya back home?”

“Yeah sarg, we see aht ring on yer finger!” Jackson pestered.

Horvath looked down at the band that hugged his left ring finger tightly. It had stayed on through every battle, each kill, it never once wavered. Much like the lady he had promised himself to claim officially once he got back from the war. “I’m afraid that’s none of your business privates.”

The men chastised him with more questions than Horvath could answer. His thoughts becoming lost in all of the chatter. “I’ll get back to her soon,” He replied. “It took me long enough to wake up.”

....::::**•°✾°•**::::........::::**•°✾°•**::::........::::**•°✾°•**::::....

Actually Reiben, that peach tree statement was a simile because it used "like" or "as."

[xsolr]

boy's gotta eat, boy's gotta have his supper

[twohearts-hs]

Defying The Odds: 14 - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 6.8k

Pairings: Michael Scofield x Reader: afab x reader

Synopsis: Y/N was a victim of the mob since the age of fifteen, however, falling in love with the wrong guy and having an argument got her 25 years in prison for murder. She had a plan to get out in faith of her husband until she met Michael Scofield, who, despite his plan, fell in love with her. Now she has the mob and Michael Scofield's escape to worry about.

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Intimacy, Murder, etc. you know the deal...

A/N: this is a complete series of ~105k words. Based on Season 1 & 2.

Hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

Arguments broke out about how the plan had failed. Michael had gone to get food as the group began to bicker. Y/N walked away, leaning against the wall. Once Michael broke up the fight, they all sat down and began to eat. Y/N grabbed a few things but was not completely in the mood to eaten stolen food.

            “Eat, you need energy,” Michael said, nudging her before walking away. She nodded, grabbing an apple and smiling at him.

            “Our photos are in the paper. They’re probably all over the news,” Sucre said holding a newspaper out.

            “Yeah, and you didn’t see that coming?” C-Note remarked.

            Michael eventually came over with a backpack in hand. “Last supper, boys,” Michael announced. “This is the part where we say goodbye.”

            “It’s not much, but it’s enough to get you started.” Michael handed everyone cash and denying the whereabouts of Fibonacci before walking off. Y/N followed.

            Conversations about getting LJ was talked about. Michael was clear there was no plan, but Lincoln kept pushing. Y/N leaned against the wall of the warehouse, eyes watching in front of her.

            She was free, but at what cost? All it has ever been since then was running. Would they run forever? She trusted Michael, but slowly that faith was fading.

They bid their farewells with everyone and as Sucre came up to Y/N, he smiled. “Mami, marry that boy,” he said, hugging her. “I already told him the same thing. I wish you nothing but happiness in the future,” he told her the same words she once told him.

            “Likewise. Go to your girl. Get married. Have lots of babies. Be happy,” Y/N responded back.

            Once they were gone, it was just the three of them. Michael took a deep breath and sighed. “Tell me everything you know about the courthouse,” he stated, ready to create a plan.

-

They were on the elevator, waiting for LJ to get into the right elevator. Just then the vent opened and Lincoln appeared through the top of the elevator. LJ and that detective were below. Lincoln had a pretend gun, pointing it to the detective.

            “Keep it in the holster, no one gets hurt,” Lincoln said, pointing the gun. “Keep it in the holster.” Michael and Y/N then appeared to Mahone and LJ. “All right, LJ, hit stop.” LJ did that. “He’s coming with us, so just stay cool, stay cool.”

            Y/N glanced over to Michael who recognised the detective. Her eyes then went back on Mahone. Michael put his hand out. “Hey buddy, give me his gun.” Michael got the gun and pointed it.

            “LJ, give me your hand.” LJ lifted his hand up. “Thattaboy, come on.” However, it failed as Mahone grabbed onto LJ.

            The plan didn’t work. Mahone got a hold of LJ and instantly, they had to fled. It was back to running. They got into a truck, but gun shots were fired as they drove away.

            Once parked, they made a run for it again, but Lincoln was hit.

            “We gotta move,” Michael said.

            “I can’t,” Lincoln exclaimed, sitting down and clutching his leg.

            “Oh my God,” Michael mumbled, coming up. Y/N sat next to Lincoln, examining his leg as he expressed his disappointment and belief he had failed LJ. Michael got a handkerchief and gave it to Y/N to wrap around the wound.

            “I failed him,” Lincoln explained.

-

Nikka’s house was nearby and Michael explained it was his green card wife’s. Y/N as much disappointment it was to hear that agreed as she knew there was no other option. They got to the apartment building, Lincoln leaning on Michael with his hand wrapped around his neck while Y/N followed behind.

            “Michael, what are you doing?” Nikka asked as soon as she opened the door, but there was no time for pleasantries, Michael was straight to business.

            “Cayenne pepper,” Michael exclaimed.

            “What?” Nikka said, closing the door as Michael brought Lincoln to the couch.

            “Cayenne pepper,” Y/N said turning to Nikka. “Do you have it?”

            “Uh, maybe,” she muttered.

            “We need rubbing alcohol, some towels and painkillers,” Y/N said. “Gauze would be great too.”

            “Whatever you got,” Michael stated.

            “And some booze,” Lincoln added, rubbing his head.

            “Please,” Michael rushed, begging.

            Y/N leaned down with Michael, rolling up the pants to take a look at the leg. Michael calmed him down. However, Lincoln continued to groan.

            “It’s fine. Now, let’s keep moving,” Lincoln stated, wincing.

            “We keep moving, that leg keeps bleeding. The leg keeps bleeding and we’re not getting out of Illinois,” Michael stated, jumping in. Nikka handed the supplies to Y/N, who took them willingly before passing them to Michael.

            Winces and groans happened as Lincoln took a drink.

            “This will seal the capillaries,” Michael stated, shaking the cayenne pepper on the wound.

            “Michael, you should not have come here. The police have been here asking questions,” Nikka said to him.

            “We didn’t have a choice,” Michael replied, focused on his work.

            “I’m thankful for the help with the green card, but I don’t wanna get involved,” Nikka exclaimed, worried and stressed.

            “I know. I know. It wasn’t part of our deal,” Michael snapped. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. But there’s nowhere else to go,” Michael stressed.

            “When I saw you on the news, I was worried,” Nikka continued. “I just hoped you’d crossed the border by now.”

            “So did I.”

            Nikka looked over to Y/N who was rubbing Lincoln’s arm. Her eyes darted her over before looking over to Michael. “Who is she?”

            “Y/N,” he said as he continued to work on the leg, “my partner. Girlfriend. We’re together,” he said trying labels. “See if you can find him some clean clothes,” Michael diverted back to the problem. “I got to go back and get our car,” Michael said, standing up.

            “Forget the car. We can get another,” Lincoln said, in pain.

            “I don’t need a car. I need that car.”

            “Why?”

            “Because in that car is everything we need to disappear,” he said before leaving.

            Y/N was left with Lincoln. “Mind if I?” she said, looking at the vodka.

            “No, go ahead.”

            Nikka was making Y/N a cup of tea when Y/N sat at the small, worn kitchen table, her eyes constantly flicking toward the front door as if willing Michael to return quicker than he’d left. Lincoln was stretched out on the couch, nursing his wounds from the chaos of their escape while taking sips of the vodka. The quiet of Nikka’s modest home pressed down on her like a blanket of unease.

            She could feel Nikka watching her.

            The woman moved around the kitchen, busying herself with the kettle and cups, but her glanced were pointed, lingering. It didn’t take a genius to know there were questions bubbling just beneath the surface, and Y/N had a sinking feeling she was about to be pulled into a conversation she didn’t want.

            “So,” Nikka stated, her voice light but probing as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “You’re Michael’s…girlfriend?”

            Y/N tensed, her gaze snapping away from the door to meet Nikka’s gaze. She forced a small, neutral smile. “Something like that,” she mumbled.

            “Something like that?” she repeated. “So, you just follow him around then?”

            Y/N felt the irritation rise in her chest but did her best to keep her tone calm. “We’ve been through a lot together. It’s complicated. We are just together. Romantically, platonically, familiarly. We’re together. Partners.”

            Nikka’s lips pressed into a thin line as she set down her cup she’d been holding and walked closer, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Complicated how? I know Michael…well…and this–“ she gestured between them, “–doesn’t seem like nothing. How’d you meet?”

            “Prison. I was the cell next to him,” she stated. “I’m not going to explain my relationship with Michael to you,” Y/N stated, voice a bit sharper than intended. “The less you know the better.”

            “You’re the mobster wife, murderer,” she said it so casually.

            Y/N took a deep breath and clutched the mug in front of her of hot water and looked down. “I’m divorced.”             “Michael’s been through enough, he doesn’t need someone else dragging him into more trouble,” Nikka said.

            Y/N shot her a look, standing from the table and walking to the window, needing space. “I’m not dragging him into anything. I’ve been there for him when no one else was. That’s all you need to know.”

            There was a beat of silence before Nikka’s voice softened, though her jealousy was there and laced in her words. “I just…didn’t know. I thought maybe when this was over, Michael and I–“

            Y/N turned to her, finally facing her head-on. “You’re his green card wife. That’s all it ever was, Nikka. You know that. You had a deal, and he kept his word.”

            Nikka winced, clearly not expecting the bluntness, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she took a slow breath, brushing off her hurt. “He didn’t tell me about you.”

            “That’s good. We kept it a secret,” Y/N said. “As I was the only female in that prison.”

            Nikka looked like she wanted to push more, but at that moment, Lincoln groaned from the other room, shifting in pain. The distraction gave Y/N the perfect out, and she quickly moved toward him, muttering, “I need to check on Lincoln.”

            As she knelt beside Lincoln, she could still feel Nikka’s eyes on her, but she blocked it out, focusing on the man in front of her instead. The conversation with Nikka had rattled her more than she cared to admit, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. There were bigger things at stake.

But she couldn’t shake the unease that settled in her chest.

Michael came back eventually, and Y/N climbed into the car with Lincoln. Michael walked up to Nikka. “I’m sorry I had to involve you in this. I mean, any more than I already have,” Michael as he began to walk away.

“Good luck,” Nikka said. “Why her?” she then asked. “A real criminal.”

Michael stopped, turning to face her. “I’m not going to explain her story, but she isn’t a criminal to me. She’s a survivor.”

Michael got in the car.

“Are you two alright?” Michael asked.

“Yeah,” Lincoln said.

“Fine,” Y/N muttered from the back.

“We’re heading west. Toward the money, toward LJ,” Michael explained. “Just got one more stop to make.”

“What for?” Y/N asked.

“You trust me?” Michael asked.

“Of course,” they both said.

“How do you throw the hunter off the scent?” Michael asked.

“Get rid of the prey,” Lincoln stated.

-

After driving for a while, Michael parked on a bridge. They got out, walking to the railing. Michael and Lincoln began to undo the bolts while Y/N kept watch. Once the bolts were undone, they walked the car back. Michael got out two bags of blood, placing them in front seat. Then he turned the radio on.

            “Remember, once I hit ‘scan’, we’ll have about thirty seconds before it reaches 103.7,” Michael told them.

            “Then she blows,” Y/N says.

            “That’s right. Ready?”

            They nodded. “Yeah.”

            Michael pressed scan and put the car in drive for it to fall off the bridge. They went running; however the music was not changing.

            “What happened?”

            “I don’t know. We’re gonna need that explosion,” Michael stated, hands on his hips.

            Sirens were heard and Y/N looked at Michael.

            “The radio must’ve jammed,” Michael announced. “We’re gonna have to set it off manually.”

            The group of them began to walk down the hill slightly.

            “The car could blow any second, man,” Lincoln stated.

            “The Fed are gonna be here in about two minutes. If it doesn’t look like we’re dead, we will be.” Then Michael looked up to Lincoln but not Y/N. “Rock, paper, scissors.”

            However, Y/N pushed past them and began to walk.

            “No, Y/N, come back,” Michael snapped. “Y/N!” he hissed.

            “I owe you,” she stated.

            Y/N walked down the hill to the car, leaning down into and then seeing the scan button. “How many stations are between 102.1 and 103.7?” Y/N asked.

            Michael pressed his lips together, worry filling his body. “Way out here? Just one, probably.”

            Y/N took a deep breath, closing her eyes and then pressed the button before getting the hell out of there. The moment she got to Michael he looked at her. “Never do that again,” he barked before running.

            “I owed you,” she whispered with a smirk.

            After a short walk, Nikka pulled up in a car. Y/N rolled her eyes but kept her demeanour calm and steady.

            “Looks like I owe you another one,” Michael said.

            “It’s ok,” she said, handing him the keys.

            “Ok. Well, once we get to Mexico, I’ll send you $10,000, like I promised,” Michael told her. Y/N’s eyes widened. Ten thousand dollars…to her? For a car? “Plus, another three for the car.”

            Y/N walked over to the car and got in. Nikka looked up at Michael and asked, “You love her? The criminal?”

            Michael looked at Y/N in car, who looked absolutely exhausted. “Y/N?” he asked. She nodded. “With everything in me.”

            Then Nika got in the car, right next to Y/N and all she could do was roll her eyes. Lincoln then pulled the car out and headed to the next town.

            A little into the drive, Nikka spoke. “What happens when you get to Mexico? Where will you go?”

            “It’s best if you don’t know,” Michael told her. “It’s best for everyone. We’ll drop you off in the next town. And I’ll wire you that $10,000 like I said. It shouldn’t take more than a week or two.”

            “Michael, we got company,” Lincoln interrupted.

            Y/N glanced back, seeing another car speeding up to them, tailing them. Michael glanced back, seeing Y/N looking behind her.

            “What the hell is going on?” Lincoln said with frustration. Since they got out, they never had a moment to themselves, it was always on the go. Michael looked as the car approached them closer, yelling for everyone to hold on. Just then the car rear ended them.

            “Who is it?” Michael shouted they pulled up beside them. Nika gasped as Y/N groaned since Bellick and Geary.

            “Just what we need,” she muttered. “It’s Bellick.”

            The car kept slamming into them, pushing them off the road slightly. The car kept pushing them on and on to get them off the road.

            “Can this thing go any faster?” Michael asked.

            They continued to chase them, speeding across the road, pushing, chasing and crashing into them. Y/N held onto the seat for dear life, getting flashbacks from a few police chases from back in her day.

            “Keep the momentum,” Y/N yelled.

            However, they eventually crashed into a tree. Her head hit the back of the chair as she tried to get out. Michael came running back to check on her, but Y/N was out of the car. Gunshots were heard as Bellick ran over to them.

            “Nobody move!” he yelled, running down the hill, shooting the gun in the air a few times. “Oh, good to see you again boy.”

            “No need for anyone to get hurt, boss,” Lincoln mumbled, turning around to face them.

            “Boss? Oh, there’s no need for formalities anymore there, Sink. I’m no longer an employee of the State, thanks for you,” Bellick stated, getting closer to Lincoln.

            “I think somebody wants that reward,” Michael spoke up, hands on his hips. Y/N stood next to him, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at the gun Geary had and Bellick.

            “It’s not about reward money, friend. Your pal Manche told me all about your little treasure hunt for Westmoreland’s stash,” Bellick said with a smirk. Y/N let out a loud sigh and Bellick turned to her. “The pretty lady is here too. Maybe I’ll inform your husband your whereabouts as there has been phone calls looking for you. Do you two,” he gestured with the gun between Y/N and Michael, “plan on getting that money and riding into the sunset? I thought you got paid millions to murder men.”

            “That’s dirty money,” she stated, kicking the floor. “Plus, my husband has it,” she lied. “Marriage. You share everything.”

            Bellick shook his head and yelled, “Get in the car. We’re going to Utah!” His gun was cocked and pointed at them.

            Everyone began to walk to the car.

            “Move that moneymaker, ladies,” Bellick said, pointing the gun to Y/N’s back. Michael had a scowl across his face. “Especially you, pretty convict.”

            “Move it, convict!” Geary said, pushing Lincoln, who fell onto his hands and knees beside Geary’s car.

            Y/N watched as Lincoln grabbed a piece of glass and placed it by the wheel. Smart thinking…th e tire will pop so they would have to stop for a spare.

            “IF you know about the money in Utah, why do you need us?” Michael asking, facing Bellick.

            “In the excitement of the escape, Manche didn’t hear everything Westmoreland said before the old bird kicked the bucket, but he heard enough. Utah and five million. You fill in the blanks.”

            Bellick suddenly, grabbed Y/N by the ponytail and then the head, grasping and pulling as she winced. Michael went straight for him telling, but Bellick pointed the gun at him. “Don’t even think about getting cute, smart ass! Now you three are gonna take me right to where that money is or both these whores get dead real fast.” Bellick still had a hold on Y/N’s hair and she was trying to pry him off. Michael had complete worry across his face. “Ask me if I’m bluffing.”

            Michael put his hands up, surrendering. He got in the car, but as he went to pull Y/N to sit on his lap, Bellick interfere. “Nope. The whore sits with me so she doesn’t pull any shit,” he stated, grabbing onto Y/N’s arm and pulling her to him.

            Everyone got in the car and Y/N watched as Bellick pat his lap. “Can I please sit with Michael?” she asked. “I won’t pull anything. I promise.”

            Bellick shook his head. “Nope. You’re with me, sweetheart.”

            Her body went numb as he grabbed her by her arm and made her sit in his lap. His hands wrapped around her waist, right under her breasts. She could feel Michael’s scowling glare that was burning holes in the back of Bellick.

            She felt completely disgusted with herself and his hands began to go hire. She grasped them, putting down. “Hands to yourself,” she barked.

            “Or else what?” Bellick taunted.

            “Bellick, you better not touch her,” Michael warned.

            They pulled over as Geary complained about needing to use the washroom. He walked into the trees as Bellick lined them up, once Y/N was close to Michael he grabbed her pulling her next to him.

            “I never thought I’d say this, Scofield, but I thank God for the day you walked into Fox River–“ Bellick began.

            “–And out of it,” Geary added, peeing in the bushes. Both chuckled.

            Y/N felt Michael’s hand on her back before going back to his side. He looked at her but Y/N was focused on the floor. “It’s gonna be ok,” he spoke to her. “We’ll be ok.”

            Y/N nodded, but she was losing faith. Slowly but surely.

            “Go into the car, act like you’re mad at me,” he spoke through gritted teeth. Y/N glanced up to him and seeing his pleading eyes.

            Y/N looked at him and then spat lowly. “I can’t believe I fucking trusted you to get me stuck in this mess. You promised me nothing would happen and now look. Obviously, I’m a fucking idiot for falling in love with you and believing all your empty promises,” Y/N barked walking away from him and to the backseat this time.

            “Well, that‘s pissed off girlfriend you got on your hands there, Scofield? Trouble in paradise?” Bellick said as Y/N crossed her arms and focused what was head of her. Lincoln was standing by the door of the car, Nika beside Michael. Bellick smirked. “Didn’t your mama tell you how to treat a lady? Or was she a whore like these two?” Bellick mocked, a disgusting smirk across his face, however he presed where he shouldn’t.

            The backdoor slammed and Lincoln went straight for Bellick.

            “Linc!” Michael yelled, trying to get his brother’s attention.

            However, Bellick held the gun up. “Got a problem there, Burrows?”

            “We only need one of you to take us to the money. Remember that,” Geary said, gun cocked.

            Michael walked over, patting his chest. “Let’s go buddy,” he said to Lincoln. “Let’s go.”

            Everyone got into the car, Michael pulled Y/N onto of his lap as his hands wrapped around her. She rolled her head back onto his shoulder. Michael looked at her through his long lashes. “Ok?” he mumbled.

            “Fine,” she responded. Michael took her hand and held it, his thumb brushing over the back. However, Y/N felt like someone was looking at her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Nika looking at her with an unimpressed look. Y/N tried to ignore it by closing her eyes and letting Michael massage her hand. Then they were on the road again.

            Moments later, they had to pull over.

            “What kind of son of a bitch doesn’t have a spare tire in his car?” Bellick spat.

            Geary was kneeling down on the ground, looking at the wheel. “The kind that already used it.”

            “OH, and you’re just the sad sack that has to go back into town and get a new one,” Bellick said to Geary.

            “What? That’s like three miles.”

            “That’s right.” Geary then walked away. “Everyone out.”

            Y/N got out and Michael followed behind her. Then the rest. Michael stayed close to her, grabbing onto her sweater and pulling her back lightly to be closer to him. He held his suit jacket close to him as he leaned against the car.

            “That way. Go on,” Bellick ordered.

            Michael was behind Y/N as they walked to the shed. She could feel Bellick stare on her. Nika nearly tripped. “Careful,” Michael said.

            “Don’t touch me,” she hissed.

            “Just relax,” Michael responded.

            This was not going the way they planned and Y/N was getting exhausted with it all.

            “You know what? I really believed you. I risked everything for you. I did everything you asked. I risked my life for you. For what? For $10,000 I risked my life? And this entire time, you’ve had $5 million just waiting there?” Nika ranted and Y/N watched this unfold. “You’re a bastard, Michael,” she spat, walking past them.

            “Just shut the fuck up,” Y/N barked. “Trust for God sake.”

            Nika turned around and looked at Y/N. “Don’t get me started on you,” she spat.

            “For all that aggravation, I hope you get to hit that a few times, Scofield,” Bellick taunted with a smirk, chuckling. “Both of them, but I bet the pretty convict was the best.”

            Y/N turned around and was about to say something when Michael stated, “Don’t. Not worth it.”

            “We’re gonna wait it out in that shack,” Bellick announced. “Just keep moving. Come on.”

            Lincoln opened the door to the abandoned shack, and everyone followed. Nika went to talk to Bellick, but soon enough everyone was tied up. Y/N began to wiggle slightly, but Michael glanced over. “Stop stressing, it doesn’t do any good.”

            Lincoln began to follow too, trying to figure out the ties. “Maybe you ought to start stressing if they’re gonna put a bullet in our heads,” Lincoln hissed.

            “They need us. They need us to get that money,” Michael mumbled.

            “I admire your optimism. She’s rolling, man. I can feel it.”

            There’s a plan and Nika was the plan. Y/N stayed quiet, next to Lincoln who was next to Michael. Both of them didn’t like being apart, but what could they do.

            Y/N stayed still, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Nika was the plan.

            Nika eventually came back, looking at Michael and then following her eyes over the group.

            “If you guys need to use the can, hold it. If you need to tinkle, sweet peas, I’ll watch you anytime,” Bellick hummed with a smirk.

            “It’ll cost you,” Y/N stated with a smirk. Michael glanced over and rose a brow.

            Bellick wasn’t impressed. “Sit down. Hands behind your back.” Nika sat next to Y/N.

            Once Bellick was gone, Lincoln spoke up. “You took your time,” he said. The door was closed now.

            “It takes time to gain a man’s confidence,” she responded. “You’re right, he’ll bite on anything I say. You just tell me where we trap him and I’ll tell him that’s wehre the money is.”

-

“Hey!” Nika yelled.

            “What do you want?” Bellick groaned as he opened the door.

            “I need to use the bathroom,” she stated.

            “Again?” Bellick sighed.

            “I have a small bladder,” she stated, raising a brow.

            “That ain’t all you got,” he smirked.

            Y/N rolled her eyes. He would not stop with the misogynistic side comments. Nikka was cut loose and they left into the private room again.

            Michael glanced over to Y/N, seeing her closing her eyes and head rolled back. “Y/N, are you ok?” he asked.

            “I just need this to be all over,” she mumbled. “I need a good night’s sleep as well.”

            “Soon,” Michael told her.

            “Is she going to come through?” Lincoln asked.

            “She’ll get it done. Nika and I have come too far together,” Michael stated. Y/N heard that and her heart hurt slightly. Nika was married to Michael, but Y/N was his partner.

            “When money’s on the line you trust no one,” Lincoln stated.

            “Do you trust me?” Y/N whispered looking over.

            “You’re a mobster, I don’t know. But if Michael trusts you, I guess I will too eventually,” he muttered.

            “Sometimes you have to,” Y/N mumbled.

            “Not if you want to survive, you don’t,” Lincoln responded.

            “You really don’t trust anyone, do you?” Michael said with honesty.

            “Can you blame me? After all that’s happened.”

            “No, I mean before that. Before prison,” Michael mumbled.

            Y/N closed her eyes again, tuning the brothers out. Nika came back, being pushed with hands behind her back into the room. She was thrown on the floor, next to Y/N. she moved to sit.

            “My daddy always said, ‘fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice and I’ll put you in the ground’,” Bellick warned. “Any more games and I stomp the hooker’s and the girlfriend’s air, understand?” Bellick barked, eyes focused on Y/N.

            Bellick went back to tying Nika up. However, a knife was passed to Y/N and she passed it to Lincoln.

            “Thanks for the dance, sweet pea,” Bellick hummed. He felt for his knife in his pocket once he turned around from the group, but it was not there. “You bitch.”

            Lincoln got up, taking the knife to Bellick’s throat. “Fooled you,” Lincoln smirked, and Y/N smiled wickedly.

            Lincoln tied up Bellick to the same pipe before cutting everyone loose. Michael came over and helped Y/N up, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into a hug. “It’s ok,” he mumbled in her ear and she nodded.

            Lincoln grabbed Bellick’s gun, hiding it in his pants. Then they heard Geary.

“I carried it. The cons can change it,” Geary said, rolling the tire into the shed. He looked to his right, seeing Lincoln with the gun. “Oh, you really suck, Bellick, you know that?”

            Michael went to go tie up Geary, but Bellick looked at Y/N then Michael. “You know, she is a complete manipulator, Scofield. She doesn’t love you. It’s just a game. Should look at her file, the witness states, the words she would use. She’s a little con. A little player,” Bellick told Michael.

            “Ignore him,” Y/N whispered, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing.

            “You manipulated that prison doc and got him thirty years for aiding and abetting,” Bellick stated. Y/N turned and looked at him. “Another victim to your game, Miss. Black Beauty,” he hummed, using the name they would call her. “Will I be your next victim? Got the lipstick.”

            “Shut up,” she muttered. “I don’t do that anymore.”

            “So you did do it?” Bellick hummed. “What do you care? As long as he left the door open for you.”

            Y/N looked at him and instantly went for his throat, hands clasping it as she yelled, “Shut the fuck up!” Her hands held it, clasping it as she slowly choked him on his own are. “Shut up,” she barked.

            Michael grabbed her by the arm, pulling her but she wouldn’t budge.

            “I am not who you think I am. I am not a cold hearted killer. I am a person,” she whispered. “I just want a normal life.”

            Lincoln grabbed her this time, pulling her off as she stumbled back.

            “Let’s go,” Michael said, arm wrapping around her back and pulling her in. “Let’s go.”

            Michael and Y/N walked out with the rest of the group. Guilt was eating her alive as she put together the puzzle pieces. Matt Remington was going to jail for a mistake she asked him to do. She had been to jail, she knows what it would be like and he was a good man.

            “Michael, we can’t let him go to jail,” she whispered as they walked to the car.

            “We can’t go back, Y/N,” he responded.

            They stopped at the car and Y/N took a deep breath, guilt was seriously eating her alive. She simply nodded. “I need to call him.”

            Michael shook his head. “No. You can’t. We’re fugitives now.” His hand came out, tucking behind her neck as he guided her forehead to his lips. “I love you, though.” She nodded, pulling away.

Michael turned to Nikka. “Can we at least take you into town?” he asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “If I’m seen with you, it’s a lot of trouble for me. I can walk. Its only a mile, she said with a smile.

“We never would have made it this far without you,” Michael said, gratitude in his voice.

“Now you’re crossing the border without me,” Nika replied, hoping for a invitation.

“You can’t go where we’re going. It’s not a life for you,” Michael stated.

Nika looked to the floor, scoffing lightly. “Then that’s it then,” she mumbled, sadly. “It’s over for good.”

“Thank you,” Michael said giving her a hug. ‘Be safe. Good luck.”

Y/N watched as Nika walked over to Lincoln, bringing him into a hug. Her arm shot out, rubbing Michael’s back as she stood behind him. However, Nika’s hand lowered in the hug and grasped for the gun before stepping back.

Y/N dropped her hand and groaned. “Nika,” she said, taking a step forward, hands up. “Give me the gun.”

Michael watched her, calm and collective.

“I loved you, Michael,” Nika began. “And I thought I was gonna get that back, but you just used me.” The gun was pointed to Michael.

“That’s not true,” he mumbled.

“I deserve more than this. I deserve more than just being the girl that you call when you need something. I deserve to be picked over some murderer you call your girlfriend.”

“You really think you’re going to find the money in Utah?” Lincoln asked.

“I don’t care about the money in Utah!” she screamed, pointing the gun on the three of them. “I don’t want any more crime. I turn you in, I get $300,000. Legal money.” She walked over to get the phone. “You’re the policeman’s problem now.”

“Nika,” Michael warned.

“Don’t come any closer or I’ll shoot you!” she yelled, voice filled with passion.

“No, you won’t,” Lincoln piped up, taking out the round that was needed.

It was useless without it and Y/N started the chuckle and Nika wasn’t impressed. “Shut up, bitch!” she yelled.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Michael tried to calm down.

Nika looked defeated as Michael took the gun and phone from her and walked away. Michael stared at her, disappointed. “Good luck to you,” he mumbled.

Y/N walked away, going into the car and sitting in the back, watching as Michael came and sat in the front. Then they drove off, leaving Nika behind.

-

The car hummed softly as it cruised down the desolate highway, the stars stretching endlessly above them. The roads were quiet, just the occasional flicker of headlights passing by, and the air inside the vehicle was thick with exhaustion. Y/N was curled up in the backseat, fast asleep, her face turned toward the window, illuminated by the faint glow of the passing streetlights.

            Lincoln sat behind the while, his eyes focused on the road head. While Michael sat in the passenger seat, glancing back at Y/N so often. She had been asleep for hours, exhaustion finally catching up with her after everything they’d been through. Lincoln studied her a moment through the rear view mirror before shifting his gaze to Michael who was looking back at her.

            “She’d been out for a while,” Lincoln commented, keeping his voice low.

            Michael glanced briefly behind him, his eyes softening as they land on Y/N. “She needs it. She hasn’t had much rest lately.”

            Lincoln nodded but did not drop the subject. He had been thinking about Y/N for a while now, especially since Michael had insisted she come with them. His brother was a private man – always had been – but Lincoln could sense there was more to this.

            “So, I need to ask…what’s going on with you two? You said partner…girlfriend. I just want to know how serious this is,” Lincoln mumble his tone casual but probing.

            Michael’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but his face remained impassive. “What do you mean?”

            Lincoln let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Come on, man. You bring her along with us, you’re keeping her out of the mess she was…that’s nothing. Where do you see this going?”

            Michael kept his focus on the road, his jaw tightening slightly. He was not the kind of person who opened up easily, but this was his brother. Despite their challenges over the years, he owed Lincoln a lot. But there was no denying that Y/N meant something to him. She had always meant something.

            “She’s complicated,” he finally muttered, his voice measured. “We’ve been through a lot together and there is definitely feelings.”

            Lincoln was not satisfied with that. He knew Michael too well. “I’ve seen you with her. You don’t do things halftway. Especially not with people you care about. You’re saving her from the mob life, from all the danger she’s in. You wouldn’t do that if she didn’t mean something.”

            Michael grasped the door handle and for a moment he didn’t say anything. He glanced behind him again, watching as Y/N slept. There was something about her that had pulled him in from the beginning, something he hadn’t been able to shake no matter how much he tried to keep his distance. He wanted to reach out and touch her. God, he wished he could hold her as she slept.

            “She deserves more than what she’s been through,” Michael said quietly. His voice was barelt audible over the sound of the engine. “She’s been fighting to survive for so long, and I don’t want her to feel like she’s alone in that.”

            Lincoln turned his head to look at his brother, his brow furrowing as he tried to read between the lines. “You lover her.”

            Michael did not respond right away, but his silence was enough of an answer.

            “With everything in me,” he admitted, his voice low but stead. “But it’s not that simple. She’s got a past that I’m slowly learning. I don’t know what to believe, what’s been manipulated or twisted.”

            Lincoln considered that, nodding slowly. “Yeah, but you’re bringing her with us. You don’t let just anyone in. Not in your life, not into your plans. That’s how I know this isn’t just some fling. It’s more.”

            Michael glanced at him, he expression unreadable, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes that told Lincoln everything he needed to know.

            After a beat, Lincoln leaned back in the seat, getting a little more comfortable. His tone was more serious now. “What about the rumours? What Bellick said. The ones about her killing those men? Are they true?”

            Michael’s jaw clenched, and Lincoln cold tell he didn’t want to talk about it. But Lincoln was his brother, and if they were all in this together, he needed to know the truth.

            “She did do it,” Michael said after a long pause, his voice heavy. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. The way the file, witnesses, rumours and the mob talk about, she’s a cold hearted killer who mocked these men, humiliated them. However, she told me she had no choice. It was life or death. Survival. Did she have joy doing it? I don’t know.”

            Lincoln raised a eyebrow, waiting for more.

            “Her husband set the whole thing up,” Michael continued, looking to see if she was still asleep. “A mobster that groomed her from a young age. He’s a lot older. However, she told me she witnesses things, heard things, found out about things she wasn’t suppose to know, so he pinned it on her. But she did do it. I’m trying to fill in the blanks.”

            Lincoln whistled low under his breath, shaking his head. “Damn. That’s some heavy stuff.”

            Michael didn’t respond, but the weight of the confession hung between them. Lincoln looked over at him, seeing the tension in his brother’s face, the conflict that came with loving someone so deeply but knowing they were haunted by their past.

            “You trust her, though?” Lincoln asked, his voice softer now.

            Michael’s eyes flickered to her, watching Y/N for a long moment before answering. “With my life. I love her with everything in me.” Then he took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect her. I didn’t plan her and that still terrifies me as I am improvising her, the plan with her…our future. I’m terrified of her husband and what he may do to retaliate. He hurt her in prison, but he did divorce her.” Michael then whispered, “I have her engagement and wedding ring still to pawn. Some Cartier bracelets too.”

            Lincoln rose a brow. “Does she know?”

            “She asked me. I looked at her stuff in receiving. Designer. Everything. She is covered in dirty money.”

            “How much did she get paid to kill those men?” Lincoln asked.

            “I’m still trying to figure that out. She told me she has a lot of money stored away from Sebastian, her husband. I will ask when we’re ready,” Michael whispered.

            “Will the truth change your view on her?” Lincoln asked.   

            “I don’t know,” Michael said honesty. “I think the truth will hurt me though.”

            Silence came between them and Y/N fluttered her eyes. She heard the whole thing and her heart dropped. Michael trusted her but for how long till he learnt the truth of her…

-

“This morning, authorities in Illinois issued an update on the escaped convicts known until now as the Fox River Eight,” the radio rang through. Y/N was looking out of the window when she heard it.

            “Morning,” Michael said.

            She had just woken up and she glanced to him in the front. His hand came back, and she took it, squeezing it. “Morning,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes and running her hand through her very messy pony tail now. She fixed it.

            “Chicago mob boss, John Abruzzi, was gunned down outside of a Washington D.C. motel last night, after investigators received a tip from an informant. The other escapees are still at large and considered dangerous…” The radio was changed by one of the men in the front.

            “How did you sleep?” Michael asked.

            “Fine. Rough. In and out, but slept for a bit. Did you sleep?” she asked.

            “A little,” Michael responded honestly.

            “I didn’t think Abruzzi would be the first to eat it,” Lincoln spoke up, ending the couple’s conversation. He was still driving after several hours.

            “I have a feeling we’re in for lots of suprises,” Michael mumbled, looking out of the window.

            “They said eight are still out there…so much for faking our deaths,” Lincoln stated in disbelief.

            “I bought us some time, that’s what counts,” Michael countered. “How much further?”

            “70…80 miles,” Lincoln responded.

            “Good, we should be hitting the double K ranch by this afternoon,” Michael stated.

            “Or we can keep driving, pick up LJ and hit Panama,” Lincoln interrupted, voice filled with concern and passion.

            “We can’t hit Panama! We can’t hit anything! We can’t do anything without the money. We need to find Charles’ stash,” Michael raised his voice, voice serious.

            “I know some other guys who are thinking the same thing,” Lincoln exclaimed.

            When Charles told Michael about the stash, T-Bag, Tweener and C-Note were in the same room which means they could be going there as well. Y/N sighed, focusing out of the window.

            “Y/N?” Michael hummed. She hummed back. “We’re almost there.” Y/N nodded, not saying a word back.

-

Here you go!

Hope you enjoy :)

I had so much fun writing this.

Much love,

Ava <3

-

Taglist:

(let me know if you want to be tagged)

@enha-stars @wonuskie @believeinthefireflies95 @esposadomd @peachmartini @rougegenshin @lindsayjoy444

[hetheymerrill]

Shears voice Boys gotta eat boys gotta have his supper.

[cannibalisticcorpse]

i can be normal about things. that being said, boy's gotta eat. boy's gotta have his supper

[charleslee-valentine]

Merry Christmas! Have 3.8k of the Sawyer family celebrating their holiday! Featuring Radiohead/Vietnita/Brocktop and Franknub as ships!

Warnings for graphic abuse (Drayton Sawyer is NOT nice), implied sexual content, and brief alcohol mention. Note also that Bubba uses they/he/she pronouns and is referred to as the Sawyers’ sister in this’n

~~~~~

Work or no work, Sawyers don’t skimp on tradition.

It don’t matter that Bobby has changed up the expectation, got a job at a radio station up north, he’s expected to be there every night at supper time.

Not that he’d ever miss it for a thing. He hasn’t been late even once.

The holiday is no different. His family don’t do the prayers or the singing or the cuddling up by the fire, but trading gifts and eating good food is kind of their thing. A holiday where that’s the focus? Shit, they can’t pass up that opportunity.

Nubbins is even known to do a little decoratin’, getting Bubba to help put lights in the trees outside and maybe wrap the house in them too. Never as fancy as in the movies, but it’s not about fancy really.

That’s sort of why Bobby is nervous.

See, in the seven years since he’s been back from ‘Nam, nothing really changed until now. Currently, there’s a pretty girl in his passenger seat, one he’s promised his love to forever and ever with a little engagement band on her finger. The family knows she’ll be coming along to Christmas dinner with Bobby, but that only makes him more nervous.

“M-Miss Stretch, I-I oughta warn ya, m-my family a-ain’t gonna be fancied up, o-or nothin’. Not like you.” He stammers a little more than his usual stutter. It’s noticeable and makes him feel weak.

His fiancée, his promised partner, soothes him, “That’s alright, honey. I’d just like to meet ‘em.”

No she wouldn’t. She don’t know what they’re like. Not really. She’s too good for them, too good for him. Something like jealousy and fear and anguish all combine and pitter pat in Bobby’s chest.

He tries to get her to understand, “Well, I-I just don’ know. M-My brothers.. th-they ain’t like, w-what you’re expectin’. I knows it. You’re g-gonna be f-freaked out!”

“Sweetheart, I’m goin’. We’re already on our way, and I wanna know them.” Her smile is so real, as her hand goes up to stroke his hair, “My Bobby boy must’ve come from some real polite and kind folk. Even if they seem strange to you, I’m sure I’ll love ‘em all.”

It’s sweet, but it doesn’t ease his concern, “I-I don’ think so. They’s vicious.. r-real vicious. Y-You gotta be careful.”

“Alright. But you know I ain’t no housewife.” She warns, giving the long hairs at the back a playful tug.

Bobby giggles. If anyone was the housewife, it’s him. “N-No ma’am.”

She leans over and plants a kiss on his cheek, over the little dent of a scar on his right side. It makes his stomach flutter, especially when she trails those kisses back to his ear, speaking softly,

“Throw it in gear, honey. We’ll burn off some of that tension on the way there.”

Now, what happened next isn’t exactly family friendly, the kind of thing you couldn’t torture out of Bobby in front of his siblings. Sure got them home twice as fast though, Bobby slamming on the gas every time his system got a jolt.

At least he’s decent again once they’re pulling down the length of driveway, buttoned up and straightened out by nimble hands, a much better job than his shaky ones could’ve done.

As soon as they’re stopped, he’s hopping out of the truck and dashing inside, forgetting, in all the combination of excitement and nervousness, to even put it in park. His Vanita does it for him, rolling her eyes a little at her man.

To her, the house seems well-tailored and nice, maybe a little rustic around the edges, but at least put together. There’s even decorations for the holiday strung up by the rafters. A makeshift wreath woven out of burlap and leaves.

All her Bobby sees when he looks at the house is the nostalgia of his childhood, probably why he’s bouncing up and down excitedly on the porch while he forces the unlocked door open.

The screen door pulls back so hard it hits the wall with a rattle, as he steps in, all his gangly limbs stretched out wide, and shouts, “I’m h-hoooome!!”

There’s a long delay of silence, where there isn’t really much noise but a couple of birds outside in the trees. Stretch starts to question if anybody is even there, “Are you sure they’re-“

She’s interrupted abruptly when the sliding metal door to the cellar whips open. Behind it are two people, both of them a good bit taller than Stretch herself, presumably Bobby’s siblings.

It wouldn’t have really mattered much, except for that the sound scared her. Covering a soft gasp with her hand, she startles with a jump in her whole body.

Bobby grabs her shoulders and pulls her back towards him like he’s protecting her from something, even though he knows damn well who it is.

Stretch steps forward anyways, feeling her man stalking around behind her but ignoring him, “Oh my goodness! Are you Bobby’s brothers?”

The siblings exchange a look, the taller of the two clasping their large hands together and shaking them up and down. It looks like they’re begging for their brother to help them answer maybe.

The one with jet black hair does answer, with a mean sneer, correcting her, “Brother and s-sister. W-What’s it to ya?”

In response to that bitter tone, Bobby strides in front of Stretch and cuts the conversation off, introducing her, “Th-This is Miss Stretch!”

Realization strikes the tall one, who wastes no time embracing her. With a delighted squeal, they squish Stretch in the tightest hug she’s probably ever received.

Even though it squeezes the air right out of her lungs, she appreciates the appreciation, so she pats their back, exchanging breathless attempts at niceties, “It’s nice.. to meet.. you too..”

Bobby gives them a moment, but after a minute attempts to pry them apart, angrily snapping, “P-Put her down leatherface!”

Stretch doesn’t miss the way they flinch. She attempts to soothe that with a quick, disapproving glance at her boyfriend.

“Now, now, it’s alright. You’re Bubba, right?”

It’s pretty easy to tell, given he doesn’t speak, doesn’t have a birthmark, and can’t possibly be much older than Stretch herself. That narrows it down to the youngest in front of her who she’s already heard about.

A quick nod from Bubba signals she guessed correctly, making her smile.

“Well it’s very nice to meet you, Bubba.” Normally, she’d go for a hug or a handshake or something, but she’d rather not get the life squeezed out of her again. Instead, she reaches into her bag, “I hear you like makeup. I brought some for you, a gift!”

She hands them a little box she compiled of eyeshadow palettes and rouge and lipgloss, all adorned with a bow. Even though she knew from the beginning that the family was too poor to give store bought presents like that, it still sort of surprised her how excited Bubba got.

Clutching the box, he runs off with it, babbling and giggle-laughing all the way.

Things come to a tense stand still when they hear the distant voice of who must be Drayton yelling at Bubba, accompanied by a faint hitting sound short after.

“Quit your foolin’ around! Get to work in that kitchen girl! We got guests to feed!”

That leaves just Nubbins.

The anxiety has become too much for Bobby. He’s stepping off to the side, snapping his wrists, shaking his arms, bouncing his knees. Everything he can do to wriggle out his nervousness over feeling like his two favorite people might not get along.

Stretch decides to be the one to braven up. She extends her hand, the one with the small engagement ring on her finger, and offers a handshake.

“Hi. You must be Nubbins.”

To her surprise, he takes her hand, but he doesn’t shake it. He just sort of, examines it. Overturns her wrist, leans in close, his hot breath fanning across her skin. Stretch resists the temptation to flinch away, trying to convince herself that he *probably* won’t bite her.

Nubbins remains critical all the same “I-I might be. I d-don’t know who you are though.”

“I’m Bobby’s-“ Stretch starts to explain, but he won’t hear it.

A look of disgust crosses his twitchy features before he tosses her arm away from him. Shutting down any attempts at conviviality or connection.

“You’re a st-stranger.”

Stressed beyond his limit, Bobby, now all the way in the other room, balls up his fists and hits himself on the front of his head. Stretch wants to comfort him, but comfort won’t fix this situation until the conflict is resolved. Steeling herself, she steps forward to level with Nubbins.

“I am for now, but I’d like to get to know y’all.” Stretch even gives Nubbins a genuine smile, knowing his distrust is only to protect his family. Speaking of, “If you’re as sweet as your brother, I think we’ll get right along.”

“I-I’m not sweet. I’m the- the mean twin. E-E’rybody says, Bobby’s the b-bark, a-and I’m the b-bite!” Nubbins bares his teeth to prove it.

Stretch doesn’t let it phase her, “I like that. I respect protecting your brother. He’s real sensitive. It’s good he has someone like you.”

The protection aspect comes into play quickly.

Drayton starts a screaming fit again and thwacks Bubba with something. Pained squealing can be heard. They all frown or shake or do their frustrated, painful movements. That pain looms heavily over the whole family.

Nubbins finally murmurs, just a little more quietly this time, “Y-You don’ get it.”

“I don’t and I’m not going to pretend I do.”

It’s simple as that. The tyrannical presence in the house, the manic energy infecting the usually bubbly spirit beside her. It’s not like she grew up. The whole house feels cursed. Bringing in a newbie must be nerve-wracking for anyone.

“You c-can’t fix Bobby.” Nubbins warns, though it doesn’t have the same fire behind it. It’s worried. He’s at least softening up some.

“Good. Because I like him the way he is.”

That’s the easiest truth for Stretch to admit. Can’t put it more simply than that.

She fell in love with Robert Sawyer even after watching him fall ass backwards off a table while black out drunk, and stayed in love when he accidentally picked his scar open and bled all over her favorite dress. They’ve been sick together from staying out in the rain all night, and felt good together dancing to music at the station after hours. They’re in this life together.

Nubbins seems to examine the situation for a long moment. Stretch in her skirt and blouse, a fancy jacket over top, and accessories like earrings with her hair pulled back in pearl pins- she’s all dressed up, while Bobby is wearing his favorite patched jeans and an old comfortable shirt probably three sizes too big for him, with some tie dye long sleeves underneath.

Already, it’s obvious she’d never change him. Some consider them opposites, though those who say that probably wouldn’t understand their shared love for music and peppermint schnapps and all things bright and colorful. To Stretch, it feels like a match made in heaven.

She just hopes Nubbins can see that now.

Through the frown on his face and the tight-knit expression of his brow, he seems to get it a little, though his frustrations don’t end there, “A-Are you gonna take him away?”

“No, honey. Not ever.” Stretch promises him softly, “Maybe I’ll move in one day, once we decide to get married, but I won’t take him from you.”

Suddenly clarity crosses his dark-featured face, “Like Franklin.”

Stretch doesn’t let her smile falter, but she does look between the twins in confusion. Bobby’s nervous smile isn’t helpful, and neither is Nubbins’ sudden and unexpected delight.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Franklin. My Fr-Franklin. Y-You gotta meet him!”

Nubbins only explains briefly before he drags Stretch away to the dining room, by her skinny elbow.

There’s a man in a wheelchair, holding a guitar at the table. He looks shy, and distinctly unlike the Sawyer boys. His hair is cropped above his ears and parted neatly to the side, but not gelled flat. There’s no grime on his face, and his shirt is buttoned almost to the top, with a little chain necklace on.

Nubbins introduces the man for him, since he doesn’t talk on his own, only acknowledges Stretch with a soft little nod.

“Th-That’s my F-Frankie. He.. He decided to s-stay a-after what his sister done. S-So you’re like Franklin. Y-You’re gonna stay, e-even though you found out, w-we’re no good.”

She’ll ask Bobby about the sister thing later, but for now, she focuses on one thing.

The abuse makes him think they’re bad. Like rabid dogs that snap at folks just trying to be friendly. A pack with no outsiders. Stretch feels awful. A few more things make a lot more sense about her Bobby.

The way he looks over his shoulder when he’s doing something he deems bad, waiting for punishment to come. His angry tears and exhausted laughter when he can’t stop moving his arms up and down and up and down. The way the tiniest bit of stress can make him start to hurt himself, relapsing into habits they’ve been trying to kick.

These boys think it makes *them* the problem.

Stretch can’t stand that, “Honey, you’re not-“

She can’t even finish the sentiment before another shouting match begins, much closer this time.

Drayton appears in the flesh, screaming his face red and dragging Bubba by the strings of her apron. Once they reach the closest dining chair, despite the obvious size difference, Drayton slams Bubba down in it like a rag doll and points a finger in their face.

“I’ve had about enough of your messes. Sit your ass down until you calm down.”

Bubba nods and babbles and tries to explain something with their hands, but Drayton doesn’t acknowledge it this time. Largely because he's noticed Stretch.

A smile stretches over his lips, attempting to look kind, but reading as more sinister.

“Miss Brock… uh.. Drayton Sawyer.” He introduces, extending his hand for an uncomfortably tight, sweaty handshake.

Stretch doesn’t know what to say, so she settles on a polite, “I’d introduce myself, but it seems you already know ‘bout me.”

“That damn radio don’t ever shut off. Chop Top running his damn mouth all the while. ‘Course I heard of his.. his *ungodly* fascination with ya.” He explains it casually, but there’s a hint of resentment in there.

Stretch smiles and just hums in acknowledgment. It’s better than the things she’d really like to say. Drayton’s expression gets tighter. She can tell he sees how uncomfortable she’s been made from the way he rocks side to side, not knowing what to do with himself.

“Supper should be out soon. Long as these jackasses don’t try to pull something else.” Drayton assures, with a tight and mean hand directly placed on Bubba’s shoulder.

They yelp and Draytons hand flies back like it was burned. Not because he hadn’t meant to hurt them. Because Bubba wasn’t supposed to make a noise.

The slimy bastard tells Stretch what to do, “Take a seat. Just.. Just gonna be a minute longer.”

When he leaves he slams the door to the kitchen behind himself, his mumbled curses being heard through the tense, thick silence that blankets the dining room.

Nubbins has taken his seat next to Franklin, more crouched in the chair with his knees drawn up than really sitting. There’s a little bracelet on his wrist made of some kind of dried wood or something that he plays with. Anxious again.

He glances at Stretch, those pitch black eyes just screaming ‘I told you so.’

The man named Franklin is trying to talk to him, but Nubbins hardly acknowledges him. It doesn’t look like it bothers the other at all. Stretch understands what it’s like comforting these stubborn boys.

Bobby himself finally follows them into the room, settled down by some but still very on edge.

Stretch reaches out for him, “Hi, baby. You good?”

He sits right next to her and huddles up in her arms. She presses a kiss to his temple, and some more to his angry red knuckles too. They both probably feel the presence of his twin brother watching them like a hawk.

Stretch hugs her Bobby tight anyways, declaring enthusiastically, knowing it’ll cheer him up, “Relax. We’re here together. And it’s Christmas Eve!”

It certainly makes him smile, his head rested on her shoulder, looking up at him with a sparkle in his eyes, “Y-You got a gift for me?”

“Actually, I have one for your brother.” Stretch remembers, producing another small box and sliding it across the table, “I got some film for your camera Nubbins. I hope it’s the right brand and all.”

Nubbins immediately snatches it. With a tilt of his head, he observes the package. A smile actually grows across his face after a moment, shakily unwrapping the little box and dumping the film out.

He was already wearing the camera around his neck, so it’s easy enough for him to load the pack of film inside. After a second for it to get ready, and to aim the camera, he takes a photo, snapping a shot of the couple in front of him.

It develops slowly, but the look on his face is pure excitement when he peels the sheets apart and the picture isrevealed. The result is a little blurry, but it captures Stretch and Bobby looking at each other with gentle smiles.

“U-Usually, th-them ain’t f-free. B-But you can have it.” He tells Stretch specifically, pushing it close just to her.

“Oh thank you, sweetie. I love it.” She coos, holding the photo up to really appreciate it, and she does. The candid moment feels as warm as her heart is now, even surrounded by all the evil cold.

She shows it to Bobby too, but he isn’t satisfied with it, “W-Well what about m-me?”

“You already got *your* gift, mister.” Stretch reminds him of earlier, with the tiniest hint of a smirk.

It makes him blush and open and close his mouth like a fish. Nothing comes out before Drayton comes back in, with a shout announcing supper is ready. Stretch gets served first, out of respect.

If she notices the way everyone, even respectful Bubba and nervous Franklin, stare at her as she eats her roast dinner, she doesn’t give any indication. Maybe it’s awkward, and quiet, and awfully tense, but they all are satisfied enough with that, if it means no more arguing or hitting.

A little green candle burns in the center of the table, a bayberry Bobby explains, that’s supposed to give them good luck if it burns all through Christmas Eve and into the next morning.

Things are going smoothly until the reflection makes him remember, “H-Hey, w-where’s Aunt Nancy and them?”

His older brother just growls, “Ain’t coming.”

“Oh. I-I wanted them t-to meet my girl.” Bobby’s shoulders sag heavily with disappointment.

Stretch puts her hand on the small of his back, offering comfort, since she already had to swat his hand away for resting it too high up on her thigh under the table.

“Some other time.” Drayton dismisses Bobby’s feelings with a wave of his hand.

“B-But-“

“Enough. You're embarrassing the lady. She don’t.. girls don’t like all that attention.”

Bobby whips his head around, blue eyes all wide (and pupils dilated down in size. His head injury is getting to him and his brother is taking pure advantage of that.) He almost pouts as he says, “Oh. S-Sorry Van.”

She uses one hand to gently stroke his hair, refusing to hide her affection even when it gets stares from the others. It’s not normal in their house, caring about each other that way. Stretch wishes she could fix that.

“That’s alright, sugar. It’s sweet, you wanting to show me off and all.”

He’s blushing as red as the glow of the lights outside, coming in through the dusty curtains, “Y’all hear that? I-I’m sweet!”

The old man gets bitter again. “Shut up. All your asses’re gettin’ coal. No such thing as sweet in this house.”

Looking around the table, they all sort of internally roll their eyes. Nobody says it, but it’s just flat out mean for the sake of being mean, and even these poor abused boys can see that.

“Not my Stretch. My girl, i-is the best.” Bobby declares it with a big smooch to her cheek.

Nubbins nods along, getting the idea, “F-Franklin d-didn’ do nothin’ either! He’s real n-nice!”

The twins work each other up, bouncing off of one another naturally. Bobby adds on, “A-And Bubba’s innocent! Sh-She can’t be on the naughty list.”

“Me- Me and Bobby, w-we’re nice too, ‘cause we.. we fell in l-love! A-And you’re just jealous, th-that your dumb boyfriend l-left you, t-to become a c-cop!” Nubbins accuses, pulling out the same mean tone he’d used on stretch earlier.

She knows now that had meant he was insecure and covering it up. The comment from Drayton may have dug a little deeper than she assumed, but at least he’s willing to stand up for himself. With such drama too.

“You’re on the n-naughty list, Drayton!” Bobby cackles with a point of his finger, wiggling around like his spine is on an axis as he turns his mockery into some kind of game, “Drayton’s on the naughty list, Dr-Drayton’s on the naughty list, Drayton’s on th-the-“

Two fists slam on the table. Stretch can’t help the shrieky little gasp she gives. Her heart is racing and her face has gone red from a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and mostly anger.

This isn’t the way holidays should be. This isn’t right.

It’s somewhat a relief when Drayton gets up and leaves, taking his half-finished plate with him. Probably either to eat alone in his room upstairs, or to starve himself into a rage.

At least he’s gone. A collective sigh of gratitude is granted to the remaining family members.

Bobby has a moment to process, his mind settling on guilt. It isn’t uncommon for this to happen, he’s beyond used to it at this point, just not in front of his lady. He bashfully apologizes, “S-Sorry, Miss Stretch.”

Stretch assures him immediately, “Not your fault, sugar. Nobody’s fault.”

Well, it is somebody’s, but that’s not a conversation to be had right now.

It’s Christmas Eve, and goddamnit she’s going to try to appreciate it for what it is. To savor what’s left. The boys and their sister seem to have the same outlook.

Bubba produces the kit of makeup he was gifted and tries to fix himself up, to feel a little better. Nubbins pokes Franklin in the shoulder until he laughs, playing some imaginary, boundless game together. Bobby looks at her for some answer, so Stretch gives him a little kiss on the end of his nose.

Holiday spirit, and a little bit of spite, fuel her to make this struggling evening as nice as possible for her man.

A whisper in his ear. “Since you asked real nice earlier, I’ll have a present for ya later.”