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the-kr8tor · 5 months ago

Text

Snake Eyes

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 7.6k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), TW death, CW blood and gore, CW violence, TW abuse mention, CW injury, CW guns, Cowboy AU, Wild west AU.

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere Masterlist

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CHAPTER 6 >>> CHAPTER 7

Hobie looks at you before he exits the train car, wind blowing in his face, the loud chugging of engine roaring in his ears— but the only thing he could think of was you, you who stands behind him quietly as if you weren't right behind him. He'd take your hand in his, grasp blindly from behind to hold you and make his heart feel at ease with the simple gesture. He'd take your hand in his if not for his hands occupied with instruments of death. He hates that he can't stand not seeing you.

He still feels that he doesn't deserve you, he still feels that he hasn't done anything to deserve his atonement. In his entire life he has faced the worst things, dodged a hundred bullets, shot a hundred more, endured the soil in his lungs and faced death itself— but this is nothing compared to those, because you weren't there to see it, you weren't there to experience it just like how he did. You weren't caught in the crossfire, until now.

“Hobie,” your voice cuts through the fog that envelopes the mountain side where the train tracks wrap around like a snake eating itself. Your hand lays on top of his own that tightens around the doorknob to the next car. The same calloused hands that carry the weight of all of his wrongdoings and death he has committed. And yet, you still hold on to his rough hands like light at the end of a dark tunnel. “You're trembling,” he flicks his eyes downwards, seeing his hand shake under your own. “We can do this.” You smile, brightening up his view.

“What if we just leave.” His mind speaks before he even lets the thought escape. You blink, sliding your palm over to his thundering pulse. Everything overwhelms him, how his lips felt upon yours, how the smoke clings to his clothes and how everything is loud in his ears akin to lightning hitting and splitting a tree. He feels like that tree. “Uncouple the caboose and take the horses out of ‘ere.” He already knows what you're about to say. Leaving means giving up on the innocent bystanders behind the door, but if it's between them and you? He'd choose you everytime.

“And leave them?” You point towards the car door with your head. “What about Clementine and her family? We can't leave all those people behind, Hobie.” Your eyes shine in the moonlight, and he nods.

“Alright,” Hobie's vision plays tricks on him, he sees blood and carnage all over you. Your once hopeful eyes now lifeless, staring back at him without the shine he's used to. His heart pounds in his chest, he can tell that you're terrified too. “Just stay close to me, yeah?”

You grip tighter on his hand, feeling how cold he is and none of the usual warmth you're used to. “I'll stay close, I promise I got your back.”

“The second I open the door you duck and find a table or a fuckin'—”

You cup his jaw gently, “we'll be fine, we'll get out of this and ride into the sunset with Bucky and Cherry.” You try to be positive for him.

Hobie inhales, letting your honeyed scent waft over him. “If we get separated, head towards our cabin. We'll meet there.”

“And then what?”

He nervously chuckles. “I've got no bloody clue, love.”

“Me neither.” You snort, laying your forehead on his bicep briefly. “You ready, Mister Larry Brown?”

That puts a smile on his face. With a twist of the doorknob, you're met with a handful of men wearing shiny gold pins on their chests. They're startled by the sudden sight of you, and Hobie takes their shock as an opportunity to fan his gun, palm on the hammer, trigger finger pressing, bullets flying and hitting its mark quickly. They couldn't even take out their guns. The sound of their bodies hitting the ground made you sigh in relief. You think it's awful of you.

“Good shooting, Hobs.” You pat his back, hand lingering on his coat. Maybe it's your own nerves that's making you say such things.

Hobie recognizes that this is how you cope. “Rate it?”

You crack a wobbly smile, gun heavy in your hand. “Eight point five.”

He makes a face, “not that bad—” The sound of a bottle rolling across the floor immediately has Hobie raising his gun. An old man you recognize as the conductor comes out of the bar, hands raised in surrender. You both now notice the passengers hiding under tables and behind the bar. They're all unharmed, except for a few bruises and scratches. “How many?” His gun is still comfortably in his hand aiming below just in case. He's not taking any chances.

The older man doesn't speak, only shaking his head. He might be afraid of you and Hobie, seeing how the man next to you just flattened five men without hesitation. You want to tell him that there's nothing to be afraid of, but you fear that he won't believe you.

“He doesn't know. Knowing our bounties— if I was them I'd bring the whole cavalry.” Hobie mumbles, thanking the man with a nod. He takes bullets from his belt, immediately reloading the ones that he used up, metal rains down on the carpet. With a click, he gestures for you to follow while he walks towards the other side of the car; stepping over dead bodies and leaving blood trails in his wake. There's determination behind his jade eyes, and anger swirling behind them like a dust storm rolling just across the field. “They brought out the whole bloody lot of them for us.”

“Guess we're special.” You crouch down to take a rifle from one of the dead men. It's weirdly looking, there's a hunting knife strapped above the muzzle, all tied together by a thick rope— a makeshift bayonet. You figure the former owner is a psychopath for adding a blade on his gun, it's not like the bullet wasn't enough but he still wants his pound of flesh. A part of you is glad that he no longer breathes. After taking the rifle, you then lift up his torso to grab his bandolier, putting it over your shoulders and wearing it like a sash. Taking inventory of the gun, checking if it has jammed, Hobie takes watch on the door, peeking from the sliver of opening from the ajar door.

“You good, love?”

“Yeah, I'm a better shot with a rifle.” You holster the gun Hobie gave you as your last resort.

He knits his brows. “I've never seen you hold a rifle back then. I taught you with a six shooter.”

Shrugging, you hold the rifle in place, the butt of it is rough against your shoulder, barrel cold on your palm. “I taught myself with a rifle.”

“Huntin’?”

You sigh, giving him a weak smile. “Sure. I didn't see Clem or her parents behind the bar.”

“They might be inside their cabin.” Hobie understands the worry behind your words. “We'll find them.”

You nod shakily, licking your dry lips. “We will, I know it.”

Hobie gives you a once over, he doesn't ask if you're alright or to tell you to stay behind because he knows the answers to both of those questions. “Okay, opening the door now.”

The wind rushes inside as he flings it open, rusty metal squeaking on the door hinges. Droplets of cool water hits your cheeks, knees aching a bit, cold breeze howling and nipping at your neck. Rain is coming.

You stalk behind Hobie, he enters the door, you follow. He shoots, you shoot the stragglers that can still hold their gun up. It's an elaborate dance of death.

Blood seeps into the floorboards and on the soles of your boots. Your eyes are alert, heartbeat raging in your ears as you don't falter in your aim, trigger finger always on the metal. You smell like gunpowder and steel, and there's crimson splashed across the men's once gilded badges.

“You still good?” Hobie asks in front of you, his footsteps are calculated and silent save for the soft clicking of his spurs. “Y/N,” he asks once again when you don't answer within a second.

“I'm okay, sorry, I was looking for them.” You scan the dining car. The tables have drops of red coating the white marble, plush chairs reeking of gore. It's devoid of any passengers, you're not sure if that's a good thing or a bad one.

Hobie is already positioned at the door, waiting for you. “Alright,” his mind keeps telling him that your luck will soon run out. That the element of surprise won't be on his side the next time he opens the door. He's never been this afraid since he was buried alive five years ago. You arrive at his side, he can finally breathe. “The next car is the kitchen. They might've heard us coming by now.”

You nod, you're terrified but not for your own safety but for Hobie's, and the passengers. You've made your peace that you might not make it out of this alive just like how you've done when you escaped that horrid place. “I'm ready.”

He looks at you for a second before sliding his hand over your cheek, calloused hands that almost feel soft atop your skin. His thumb rubs along your cheekbones, silently wishing for an outcome where you both live to see the sunrise. “Don’t die on me.”

You lean to his touch, moving your head slightly to kiss his rough palm. He stops breathing for a second. “I won't die on you if you don't die on me.”

With a soft smile and a peck to your forehead, he nods his promise. “I promise.” He opens the door, the drizzle has turned into a downpour, it soaks his clothes, sticking to his scarred skin, and cold water splashing over his hat and atop the warm barrel of his gun. He opens the door with a creak after crossing the small distance.

You're both met with a barrage of bullets, Hobie pushes you to the side, effectively hiding you behind a counter while he gets nicked by a bullet across his thigh as he jumps behind a metal box.

“Fuck!” He yells, taking off his bandana to wrap it around the wound. Crimson immediately drenches the cloth, turning the already dark bandana into a darker shade.

“Hobie!” You call for him above the sound of guns going off and bullets hitting where you stood. Your breath gets stuck in your throat when you see the identical gold ring wrapped around a piece of twine, the necklace sits pretty on his clavicle, shiny and well taken care of; A stark contrast to the jagged scar lined on his neck.

He gives you a thumbs up, unbeknownst to the mixture of emotions you're experiencing. He even winks at you while he groans in pain. Your eyes are full of longing, tears pricking at the corners. He points at the gunmen, counting down, waiting for them to use up all their ammo.

He puts a finger down, three. One by one, the guns click.

Two. You hear panicked yells behind the counter.

One. The bullets stop flying. They frantically reload, metal scraping against metal.

Hobie nods and quickly lifts himself off his cover, fanning his gun, he shoots them down while you do the same. You both hit your marks just as when the last of your ammo pings out— metal meets flesh in a firework of rubies and torn insides. The entire kitchen smells of iron and gunpowder, you hide behind the counter again to reload.

“Shit.” You whisper as you reload the rifle, it makes a ping sound when you take out the cartridge. Fingers sliding on the metal from how the rain water has slicked your palms. Your pulse beats to the tune of the thunder outside the train. Trees whizz by the windows, raindrops clinging to the fogged up glass outside. Just as you finally finish reloading, you see Hobie stand up and confidently walk forward with his gun raised, shooting until not a single one of them twitches. You watch him work in awe.

The door next to you suddenly opens, the unmistakable silver muzzle of a gun peeking from the door that hides the man from your view, strong hands aiming directly at Hobie who's reloading. Without hesitation, you shoot the door where you've calculated where the man's torso is supposed to be. Splintered wood flies all over you, the gunshot rings in your ears, and your face is covered in something warm.

Hobie watches as the man goes down, almost dead, choking on his own blood for you have shot at the stranger's trachea. He scrambles towards you who's covered in blood. Crouching down, he slowly moves the barrel of the rifle away from him to wipe your face clean. Your eyes are wide, staring at the body lying just a few feet away from you. The man still desperately breathes, hand uselessly cupping at his gaping wound, blood seeping through his fingers, teeth stained with crimson, and dark bloodshot eyes looking at you. You watch as the light in his eyes goes out, and you realize, you're the last thing he ever saw.

Your ears stop ringing and you can finally hear Hobie call your name. “Love, just breathe.”

“I'm okay,” you say, blood smudged all over your soft skin. “I'm okay.” You utter it like you're trying to convince yourself. He hates that he has made you into this, a killer.

“Can you stand up?” His hand clasp your own, fingers kneading at your shaking palms.

“Yeah, I-I think so.” You stand up on wobbly legs, inhaling deeply, a mistake on your end, for the air has gone stale with iron and boiling water from the abandoned pot.

Hobie's palm is on your chest, encouraging you to breathe. In and out, in and out, you almost gagged. “You're doin' great, just keep doin' that—” A shot rings out, two men enters the train car, one is huge in form, brandishing a pistol. The smaller one has a shotgun with a crazed look in his eyes. The bullet misses your head by mere inches, leaving a gash across the shell of your ear. “Fuckin' wankers!” Hobie exclaims, the hand on your shoulder makes you sit back down, the other shooting at the men. Your blood soaked your once pristine collar. You don't feel the pain.

“Not her, you moron!” The bigger one shoves the other, Hobie is emptying his bullets, gunpowder permeating the stale air, mixing in with the iron and heat.

Everything else was a blur to you as you look at the pool of blood that's slowly making its way towards you. You hear your heartbeat quickening, the metal of the rifle in your hand stings, leaving indents on your palms. With a pained yell from Hobie, you wake up from your trance, just as you stand up, you're met face to face with the man who wields a shotgun. He yells, the butt of his gun aimed at your head. But you're faster, so you jab his stomach with your rifle, digging the bayonet into his flesh, blood seeps out of his white shirt from the knife. Despite his size, you've got the advantage, you've got everything to lose if you fail, so you fight, and survive, and will fight again because you promised Hobie.

Your attacker's gun falls from his grasp, staggering on his own two feet. He yelps as you push and push him into a table as you launch yourself quickly. The edge of the table stabs the small of his back, groaning, adrenaline rushing through you, you don't hesitate in pulling the trigger.

“No, wait—!” There's a gaping hole in his stomach, his entrails lay bare to you. That warm liquid is on your face again, it coats your white shirt, on your shoes as it drips down, and now your hands.

Hobie hears the gunshot, he looks over his shoulder to check, a mistake for he gets a punch to the gut. Hobie desperately fights the other assailant, dodging fists as they've both run out of ammo without time to reload. The man is visibly bigger than him, taller, and with more muscle. He's outmatched but he's not going to give up. Hobie has his fists shielding him, standing just a few feet away from you, if the man wanted to get to you, he had to get through him first. while the lawman does the same, both of them spit out blood that stains their teeth. The stranger smirks, eyes flicking over to you who just shot his partner. Before he could rush towards you, Hobie leaps up effortlessly, hands gripping a metal pipe above, swinging his legs towards the man to kick him. Steel toed boots hit his chest, but it's no use, even with the momentum, the kick barely fazed him.

“Fuck—” Hobie groans as the man grabs his middle, pouncing on him, trying to take him down but Hobie's grip on the metal is too strong. His legs wrap around his opponent’s neck, squeezing in hopes that it’ll choke him. Hobie’s side stings while the attacker takes a few hits in, using him as a punching bag. He squeezes tighter, trying to twist and snap his neck. The man gasps for breath but his fists still connect to his side.

You take out your gun from the man's dead body, rushing towards them, rifle aimed at Hobie's attacker. You pull the trigger but it clicks and nothing happens. It's jammed, your mind quickly decides for you, with the adrenaline rushing, mind addled, you pick up the boiling pot with your bare hands. It's hot, but only for a moment. You fling the searing water towards the man's back, Hobie lets go before the water hits him, lifting himself on the pipe, legs raised up and perpendicular to his body as he dodges the boiling water. Steam and water flies, landing directly at the lawman's face just as he turns towards you. He screams in pain, his shirt now burning into his skin, melting into his flesh. Hobie drops down, the pot clangs as you let it go.

The screaming gets into your ears, worming its way into your ear canals, so you do what you should've done to the man behind the door while he suffered— you put him out of his misery. Quick drawing the six shooter Hobie gave you, you shoot, hitting your mark as his body falls loudly on the floorboards.

Hobie heaves, and you stare at the carnage before you, carnage you've had your hand in. You suddenly feel rough hands on your own, he helps holster your gun back before checking the damage on your palms. The pot burned your skin, it's red and angry, lines in the shape of the handle have permanently etched into your flesh, right next to the scar Hobie helped stitch years ago. Weirdly enough, you can't feel the blinding pain.

“‘m sorry,” he says, reluctantly letting your hands go as he picks up his fallen gun off the corpse-ridden floor.

“What for?” Your voice cracks, barely recognizing it as your own.

“For everythin’, we shouldn't have gotten on this train in the first place, or any train.” Hobie sees how dull your eyes have become, the iris of your eyes have become restless, always moving, always checking for threats. You've become like him in the span of a few minutes.

You try to smile, it ends up looking like you're in pain. “Apology accepted, make it up to me by surviving the night—!” There's a lasso around your neck, you see Hobie's face contort into horror as you get pushed down on the floor, noose getting tighter as you gasp for air. Before he could shoot the one on the other end of the lasso, you're quickly dragged across the floor, body flailing like a ragdoll as the one dragging you around laughs.

“No! Y/N!” Hobie's thundering footsteps follow behind, shooting someone behind you. But you're still getting dragged around through train car to train car, rain battering your body whenever the person hauls you outside, the rough floor stings against your back. “Let her go!”

Black dots dance around your vision as your fingers try to get between the harsh rope and your neck. Your other hand reaches desperately at your gun holster. Fingers brush along the cool metal, ceilings whizzing above you. You're running out of air, and Hobie's running out of ammo. His panic and the rattle of the train makes his aim terrible. The man continues to lug and pull you as if you're a prized doe that they just hunted down.

The rope is choking you, leaving you with a mark around your neck and a skinned back from the floorboards that slash at your coat.

Gasping, you lift your leg up, finally reaching for the gun, quickly pushing down the hammer and leaning your head back to aim. The man dragging you about keeps moving from side to side, you shoot a couple of times but to no avail, panic sets in as your arm gets weaker, breath getting shallow, and your eyesight blurring. Your gun falls from your grasp, left behind as darkness envelops you.

Bang!

A body thuds, Hobie runs after you, the barrel of his gun still smoking as you lay limp on the carpeted floor. He gets to your side, immediately untying the noose around your sore neck. Your eyes fly open and you gasp for air, laying on your side as you try to take in breaths. You blink away the black dots and you're met with Clementine’s familiar eyes. Her mother holds her to her chest, hands covering her daughter's ears. While her father shields them both even with blood coating his forehead. They're terrified, you wonder if they're terrified of you.

Hobie pats your back for you to breathe better. “‘m sorry, fuck, Y/N,” he gingerly holds your face. “Look at me,” there's unshed tears in your eyes. He was almost too late, if his aim was just a few inches off— he doesn't want to think about it. Your eyes are glued to Clementine’s terror filled expression. “Oi, love, can you look at me please?”

You turn your head, neck aching and tender, you're met with soft viridescent eyes that smile when you finally stare back. He briefly turns his attention to the family cowering in their cabin before turning towards you again. “I have a plan,” he says while you hold his wrists, unable to speak. Hobie's heart aches at the sight of your bloodshot eyes. “We need to get to the engine, there's more comin', I can hear them.” Hobie struggles to breathe, so you slide your palm on his chest just like he did to you, wordlessly telling him to breathe. Nodding, he inhales deeply. “Uncouple the engine from the rest of the train. That's the only way we can get out of ‘ere.”

“What about them?” You manage to let out, you don't recognize your own voice. He knows what you mean.

“They're after us, not them. The most they can do is question them.” He tries to convince you even though he's not convinced himself.

You gesture towards Clem's father. “He's bleeding from his fucking head, Hobie—!”

“I'm alright,” Jesse chimes in, his wife nods along but she doesn't let go of Clem or his hand. “I got this because everyone started running away from the gunshots. I got trampled but I'm fine now.” His eyes pleads with you. “He's right, they won't touch us.”

“What if they do?” Tears cling to your lashes.

“There's more of us than them.” You don't expect him to chuckle, the pistol in his hand glimmers under the yellow light of the cabin. “Trust me, we're more trouble for them. I'm from the south, these kinds of things happen on the regular over there.” The scar on his brow tells you of his struggle, telling you that he can protect his family. “Worry about yourself.”

Hobie nods, thanking him silently while he still holds on to you.

“Get out while you can, sweetheart.” Florence addresses you. “I don't know what you two did but we don't care about them, just you. And you've got a good heart, so go.”

“Thank you,” you say, voice breaking. “Get to the caboose, there's more people there.”

They take your advice, standing up while Florence carries Clementine. Jesse goes in front of them, gun at the ready. Hobie helps you stand up and you watch as Clem waves goodbye to you.

“Bye, Clementine.” You whisper, a jar of honey rolls around the cabin and you frown, mind telling you that you might've traumatized the poor kid.

“They'll be alright.” Hobie brushes his knuckles against the back of your hand, careful of any injuries you're not telling him. “Let's go, love,” as he leads you outside of the cabin car, you spot a few more passengers running towards the back of the car.

You swallow thickly, neck stinging, burn marks left at your palms and neck. Your back throbs, but all the pain doesn't compare to the torture back home. Your great aunt throws despicable words at you, as if her jabbing you with stationary wasn't enough, with your so-called uncle always watching every punishment from the corner like a peeping tom. And him, he'd do worse than those two combined, perhaps he learned how to hurt you from them. And perhaps he has mastered the torture.

Suddenly, you're back at home in your pretty dress, pristine and looking like the perfect lady. But your velvet sleeves and satin skirts hide the tiny pin pricks and drying blood, the expensive jewelry outshines the apocalyptic look in your eyes. The ring around your ring finger keeps it all hidden— they call you lucky, they say that you glow under the chandeliers like the diamonds around your neck, yet, they pretend to be blind from how you stare outside the mansion like a doe caught in a bear’s trap longing to be free.

The rain hitting your face wakes you back to the present. Hobie's arm is around your middle, hovering just above your wounded back. With the cold raining down on you briefly, entering the next car, a group of men greet you on the other side.

“Finally made it.” The man in the middle says, he has a gilded star on his chest, twirled mustache on his face, and crow's feet around his green eyes. There's a hand cannon on his hand, the metal is all worn out and scuffed. “The name's Lee, I'm the sheriff around these parts.” He says, stubbing his cigarette atop a plush seat. You're in a regular train car that's lined with seats for the ones who're not in for the long haul. The rain outside keeps battering the windows, their guns are aimed at Hobie. “There’s a bounty on your head, Mister Brown. And I heard someone's lookin’ for you, pretty lady. You two got us running without our heads out there while you were on the dodge. But we got you now, eh?”

Hobie gets shoved from behind, and you both stumble forward. A couple of Lee's men appear, pushing you both closer to the sheriff with the muzzle of their guns. Hobie holds on tighter to you, and your gaze pierces the man in front of you.

You're surrounded. And Hobie feels like he's being buried again.

His eyes flick towards the windows, behind the water droplets lie a familiar view of a large lake— he knows this place, he knows where they're heading, all he needs to do is stall for time.

“You're lawmen, not bounty hunters.” Hobie taunts, “government not paying enough, sheriff?”

The man in front of you chuckles, lighting up a new cigarette with a flourish. You feel the acrid smoke enter your lungs. “A man's gotta eat, y’know?”

“Yeah, I know. Just like dumb and dumber who tried to ambush us by the river.” Hobie has a smug look, acting nonchalant, but his grip on you says otherwise.

You're worried when the lawman drops his confident stance. “What are you doing?” You whisper to Hobie, eyes never leaving your enemies.

“When I tell you to run, you run.” He whispers back, glancing briefly at you.

You don't protest, trusting him completely. You don't say, ‘alright,’ or ‘okay’ for confirmation that you'll follow whatever he's planning. Instead, you say the three words you've wanted to say to him, the real him, not the one from your dreams or hazy illusions— Hobie, your Hobie who used to greet you with a boyish smile under the oak tree. “I love you.”

His brave façade falls, you smile sweetly at him as you lean your head against his clavicle. Hobie makes an oath right there and then that he'll say it back when he deserves to say it to you, when he gets you to safety. For now, he holds onto you like how he desperately grasps onto the memory of you while you were thousands of miles away from him.

“That's a sweet sight,” the sheriff drawls, “looks like she knows that it's all over. But I can see that you don't.” He exhales smoke, it fills the cabin with sickly air. “You're off to the widow, mister Brown.”

Hobie smirks, you can see the cogs in his mind turn. “I think I remember you now, old man.”

Lee licks his teeth, the men at his command adjust their hold on their guns. “You remember now haven't you?” His spurs click against the floor when he moves closer, you notice he walks with a slight limp that he tries hard to not be noticeable. Hobie flicks his eyes outside.

“Yeah,” Hobie laughs to your surprise, “how's your leg? Or better yet, how's your son?”

“You motherfucker! Hobble your fucking lip!” Lee finally raises his pistol, cigarette ash falling from his lips that curls around the stick. It makes Hobie more amused. “Bet you don't even remember his fucking name.” He says through gritted teeth.

Hobie tilts his head, clicking his tongue, pretending to think. “Was it Jerry? Or Ronald? I don't remember, he didn't leave much of a mark on me.”

“I should shoot you right now.”

“Why don't you?” He raises a brow. A tall willow outside whizzes past. Hobie counts down in his head.

“Because the pay is higher if I bring you alive.” The man's green eyes stare at you. You feel like you're being scrutinized on stage. “Besides, I don't want to shoot you in front of your woman.” He gives you a toothy smile. “Why don't you come over here, sweetheart, I won't do you any harm. I'm just going to bring you home.”

You shake your head, trying to act brave now that the adrenaline has sapped out all of your energy. “That's worse than hurting me, sheriff.”

“Now why is that? Your family misses you.”

“I'd rather you shoot me with him than bring me back home.” Hobie listens in, guilt gnawing at his insides.

Sheriff Lee makes a face, befuddled by your words. “You’d rather die?”

“Without hesitation.”

He nods, looking like he's weighing his choices. “Now that's the love of a woman right there. I've only seen it a couple of times, one is from my own wife.” More ashes fall from his cigarette, the stick getting smaller and smaller with every exhale. Hobie uses it as a countdown. It's near, he can feel it from the rumble on the tracks.

Hobie scoffs, “‘m surprised that your wife stuck around with your ugly mug.” His fingers subtly unclasp the whip hanging on his belt.

Lee runs out of patience, clicking the hammer of his pistol, “this is for my son.” The last of the ashes from the cigarette falls, light completely going out from the stick.

Your eyes widens, body already moving to shield Hobie. In an instant, He yells, “Run!” Darkness engulfs the entire train car, gunshots let out muzzle flashes of light as the lawmen shoot with panic in their trigger fingers. You run forward, bodying Lee in the process. You hear the crack of a whip as you shield your head with your arms.

You land on the metal door, vision still dark while you blindly feel for the doorknob. Panicking, a familiar form presses behind you, immediately finding the doorknob and opening it for you. Stepping outside in a rush, you almost fall off the train if not for your reflexes making you hold onto the railing beside you.

With a creak of the door closing, gunshots muffling, you spot Hobie's silhouette amidst the darkness, you can't decipher what he's doing with the door. Noticing the rain has stopped, you look above, but in a second, rain hits your form like a waterfall, and the moon shines brightly. You were in a tunnel, and Hobie knew that the dark would give you an escape.

“Holy shit!” Like a thunderbolt, you whirl around to face Hobie to either kiss him or hug him. But you're met with his pained face, hand clutching his side as blood seeps out from his fingers. “No, no, no!” You press hard on his wound, he yelps, but he's grinning at you. “This isn't funny!”

He smiles wider, you think he has lost it. “It isn't, I just can't believe you told me you love me in there.”

You'd smack his shoulder if not for his injury. “You're an idiot, Hobie Brown,” he laughs, you smile, “a brilliant idiot.”

“I am quite brilliant.” You nod, tears mixing in with rain water, kissing his cheeks, you hear a muffled, “I can't believe that worked.” From him, so you pepper more kisses on his wet cheeks. “‘m lovin’ this, but we need to uncouple the cars. And we have an audience.”

You look over your shoulder, hands still on his wound. Two men look at you from the smokestack, one pauses from shoveling coal into the engine while the train driver blinks rapidly in shock.

“We're commandeering this train,” Hobie straightens up, jumping over the gap to get to the controls. Both men don't even protest, just silently raising their hands in mock surrender. He makes them stand in the corner that's further away from the controls, they obey. “C’mon, love.” He beckons you over, fingers opening and closing.

You hold out your hand just as when there's loud banging on the other side of the doors. Jumping the gap, you stand chest to chest with Hobie. There's hope yet for you two to safely escape.

The door doesn't budge from how Hobie locked it using his whip to tie the doorknob around the railing on the side. But it won't hold on forever.

The scenery has changed from the mountainside to a straight muddy plain. The tracks seem to go on forever, and you can see the next station just a few meters away.

“Alright,” He looks at the confusing controls. “Which button to unclasp the cars?” He thanks his adrenaline for keeping him on his feet.

“No button,” the one with the official looking uniform says. “You have to do it manually.” He glances at the floor where there's metal connecting the engine to the carriages.

You immediately get on your knees, wet hands sliding on the rusted metal. Desperately pulling on the large nail that connects both winches. You keep trying to pull it off. Your hands slide off so you try again. And again. Your hands smell of rust. And again. But it's all in vain, the hold is too strong.

“Shit—!” Hobie tries to help by crouching down but his wound denies him. Wincing, he lays his head against the wall, eyes flicking between you and the door that's barely holding on. He weakly raises his gun, seeing the chambers now devoid of any ammo. “Fucker.” He tries to find more bullets from his bandolier and pockets, but he finds none.

You look at the two men wordlessly watching you fail. The rain and harsh wind still smacks your face. “Please, those men on the other side will kill us if you don't help.”

The driver shrugs and joins you on the floor, but instead of pulling onto the nail, he leans further down, sliding his hand underneath the winch and turning a wheel counter clockwise.

“You turn, not pull.” He says to you, continuing to loosen the connection.

“Now you tell me.”

Hobie tells the other person to keep shoveling in coal so when the engine is free, the four of you would be way ahead of the car. The engine runs hotter with every coal shoved inside, you suddenly feel warm, clothes slowly drying from the intense heat.

You can see the metal loosening, you'd exhale a relieved breath but the door bursts open. Sheriff Lee comes out covered in blood with a pistol. One eye closed and bleeding. Behind him, you can see the bodies of his men littered around the car, all shot to bits, the seats covered in their blood. Only Lee and a couple of them survived who now stood beside him while clutching their gunshot wounds.

“You made me shoot my own men!” He seethes, without a beat, he shoots but his aim isn't straight. The bullet pierces the man helping you. His headless body falls limp and falls out of the train and under the tracks, leaving crimson trails behind.

You don't have time to scream when his warm blood splashes across your face and sleeves. Hobie grabs you to the side, a small sliver of metal wall shielding you both. His hand shields your head, arms encasing you. The train passes by the last station in a blur.

The other train worker does the same, crouching down on the other side, shielded by the same small wall. Hobie sees the man's pistol hidden in the waistband of his denim jeans.

“Oi!” He yells above the gunshots, “throw me your gun!”

“What?! No!”

“You're not even bloody using it!”

“You're an asshole!”

“Just give us the fucking gun!” You yell back in a quick tone.

With a shake of the stranger's head, he reluctantly tosses you the gun. Lee sees the opportunity and shoots the guy's hand. He screams as blood gushes out, the gun clangs on the floor just an arm away from you.

The poor man's screams get louder, and suddenly he stands up, pushing himself off the floor and jumping out of the moving train and into the muddled swampy ground. You don't know if he survived the jump, or if the gators got to him first.

Hobie whispers a shocked, “what the fuck,” in your ears. He groans as his wound gets rattled by the tracks. “The gun,” before he could even get a toe outside, a bullet nicks the steel point of his boots. Taking his foot back, he curses and punches the wall behind him in frustration.

You stare at the weapon that's slowly moving downwards and into the space between the cars and engine. It's going to fall off if you don't act fast.

“They need to reload.”

“What?” Hobie asks tiredly. He hears the guns click, indicating that they've run out, “wait— Y/N, no!”

Without missing a beat, you reach towards the gun swiftly before they finish reloading. Hobie yanks you back the second you get the gun in your hand. A bullet pierces the floor where you were just a second ago.

“Get the fuck out of there!” Lee taunts.

You clutch the gun on your chest. Checking the chamber, you only see two bullets in it. Hobie leans over to see it. “Fuck!” You both say simultaneously.

“We've got two shots at this, Y/N.” Hobie looks at you, his green eyes gets darker even though dawn is just about arriving. His hand slides around the gun and your hand. “Let me do it.”

You shake your head, briefly laying your forehead on his. “No, you've done more than enough.”

He furrows his brows, “let me do it, love, I owe you that much.” It's not because he doesn't trust you and your aim, he knows better than that. He just doesn't want you to be in their crosshairs again.

The gunshots seize, without a reply, you leave his side, sliding on the floor to shoot. You find no one on the other side, just a brief last look at Lee's retreating back. Hobie pulls you back in, “they left.” You say, confused. Standing up, you help Hobie up, eyes widening at the front of the train.

“Cowards.” He says with a victorious smile. He expects you to smile back but you only have a look of terror. “What is it?” He follows your line of sight, and sees the lack of tracks looming closer and closer. “Fuckin' hell!” Hands immediately trying to pull down the brakes, he ignores the pain on his side as he keeps trying to push it down with his weight. “Y/N!” Looking over his shoulder, he sees you crouched down, uncoupling the car from the engine. Within a second, you free the train cars, leaving it in the dust as it slowly comes to a stop. He thinks of Bucky and Cherry, and the innocent passengers.

You turn to face him with glossy eyes, the rain has subsided, grey clouds parting away for sunlight. Hobie shakes his head, refusing to give up as the train chugs on, smoke billowing out. Pushing the brakes down, he feels your hands wrap around his own.

“Together.” You say, smiling softly just like how you did amidst the crowd back home.

He nods, your hands are uncharacteristically cold against his own. “Together.”

With one final push from the two of you, railway workers run away from the tracks they're working on as they see you continue to move fast. They yell and wave their hands to get your attention, but your eyes are only on Hobie's face. Everything happens slowly, the brakes screech, sparks flying as metal hits steel, but the momentum is too fast, and the engine bursts from the speed and heat. You slam against the controls with a sickening thud. Arms embrace you as the train crashes and you're once again in darkness.

—

Hobie's head throbs, he feels numb, fingers tingling, and his field of vision is blurry. Blobs of colours fly past him, screams muffled in his ears as if he's caught under the tides. He tries to blink the fuzziness away, after a few weak tries, he sees your bloodied soot-covered face, and feels your hands on his cheeks.; desperately holding on to him.

“Hobie!” You cry. He wants to comfort you and tell you everything will be alright. “Someone help us please!”

His perception darkens, inky spots appearing just as he sees a metal beast creak and groan while it burns in the fiery destruction. There's hundreds of fiber-like metal bursting out from within, like an angel losing its wings, fallen from grace. That's the last thing he sees before he succumbs to the pain.

—

“Try to keep him awake!” An unfamiliar person says.

Hobie feels like there's water inside his head, sloshing around in his pain-addled brain. He forces his heavy eyelids to open, Bucky's face greets him. I'm dead, he thinks, then your hands wrap around his own, squeezing a dozen times. “I'm in heaven then,” he tries to speak but it only comes out as a jumbled mess of words.

“Stay awake, Hobie!” You yell, “please! Hurry up, mister! He's starting to bleed from his ears!”

“Love—” he says before blacking out again.

—

His nose picks up something musty in the air, it's humid, crickets chirping outside, and he's sweating a lot. His head still aches, a pounding pain right behind his eyes. Hand reaching upwards, he feels bandages wrapped around his head, groaning in pain at the simple gesture. He smacks his lips, realizing that his throat is dry. Time has passed, he surmises based on how his wounds are starting to itch, indicating that it has been at least a few days.

He opens his eyes wide, panic settles in his stomach, remembering your terrified bloody face looming above him. Sitting up from the lumpy bed, his sight darkens for a second from how fast he sat up. Whispering your name, he coughs dryly, arm perching him up. He calls again, a bit louder this time, but he doesn't hear a pip anywhere except for the rushing water outside and the insects.

“Love?” He heaves, rolling to the side. Moving his heavy head up, he sees your coat draped over a lone armchair, but still no you. “Y/N!” Yelling with all his might even though his head bangs against his skull. After a few seconds, his ears pick up your muffled voice that seems to be coming below him. He calls once again with a soft smile on his lips, hands fisting the sheets when a wave of pain crashes down on him.

Ears ringing from the blinding pain, he's sure he hears numerous unfamiliar voices downstairs. He blinks the warbling vision away, then his heart picks up pace from the sound of a loud thud. Eyeing the plain door, your piercing scream brings his greatest fear come to life.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Custom banners by @thatsapillowcase

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pjsk-story-summaries · 9 months ago

Text

Leo/need Main Story Summary

TL;DR: Though they all were once close, after Tenma Saki's prolonged hospitalization, Hoshino Ichika, Mochizuki Honami, and Hinomori Shiho had drifted away. Despite Saki's attempts, she can't find a way to get them all back together.

One fateful day, the four stumble upon "Untitled" and the mysterious world of SEKAI. Saki asks if they can reform their childhood band, but Shiho and Honami refuse. In the meantime, Saki and Ichika form their own band with the hopes of inspiring the other two to join.

Shiho says she will consider it if they can play a song of her choosing perfectly within a week, but Saki ends up collapsing from overworking when showing their progress. Shiho recognizes both the hard work they've put in and her own love for her friends and joins the band. She also explains that she abandoned them only to protect her standoffish reputation from rubbing off on them.

Honami, however, still refuses. Saki realizes it's probably for the best to leave Honami be now that she's no longer getting bullied by her classmates. Shiho disagrees and confronts Honami. Ichika realizes her true feelings about wanting to be together with everyone and talks to Honami herself, bringing her to the SEKAI to watch the stars. Honami realizes her love for her true friends is stronger than the fear of her bullies and officially joins the band.

Official English Youtube upload / Song (needLe) / Animation

Chapter 0: Ichika reflects on the band she, Saki, Honami, and Shiho had formed for fun as children. She recalls having been incredibly grateful to the others for joining her, and how they all wished to be together for a long time to come. They go watch the shooting stars from a jungle gym. In the present day, Ichika sees Honami out the classroom window, but the latter reluctantly ignores her. The same happens with Shiho after crossing paths in Scramble Crossing. Back home, Ichika notices her phone flash and is transported to the SEKAI, where Miku and Luka introduce themselves. The duo want to help them find their true feelings again, but Ichika doubts it could ever come true. She's then forced out of the SEKAI. All four childhood friends separately watch the stars.

Chapter 1: Ichika encounters Honami in the courtyard, but Honami leaves as another classmate calls her. She again has another awkward encounter with Shiho. Ichika worries the other two might not consider her to be friends anymore. Her fears are interrupted by Saki's arrival as a new student in her class. Saki is as cheery as ever, but ignorant to the dissolution of the former friend group.

Chapter 2: Ichika is hesitant to tell Saki the truth. All four cross paths in the school hallway, but Honami and Shiho both leave quickly. Saki chalks it up to them being busy. Later, Honami talks to some current classmates about Saki's arrival as Shiho walks by. They discuss Shiho's cold personality, but Honami is too scared to admit they used to be good friends.

Chapter 3: Saki takes Ichika around town with her, excited to catch up on all the life she missed while in the hospital. They end up talking about how fun their childhood band was. Saki realizes it's lonely just being her and Ichika. After parting ways, Ichika wants to find a way to have the four of them together like it used to be, but the thought seems impossible. Miku pops out of the SEKAI and asks for her to visit with friends. Ichika is still confused, but agrees that it would be fun to have a band again. The next day, Saki tries asking Shiho to hang out, but she refuses. Honami gets pulled away by other classmates before Saki can ask her. Saki tries to confront Ichika about their weird behavior, but backs away when she fears there might actually be a problem. She asks about Miku instead and finds a strange song called "Untitled" among the playlist, accidentally transporting them into SEKAI.

Chapter 4: The duo search for the mysterious sound of Miku's guitar. They end up running into both Honami and Shiho doing the same. The four find Miku in an empty classroom, along with all their old instruments. Saki begs to play together again, to which they hesitantly agree.

Chapter 5: Ichika and Saki are starting to have fun playing when Shiho suddenly stops them mid-song. She is frustrated with the current skill level of the other three. Miku asks to join in this time, impressing the others with her skill. Secretly, Ichika hopes Shiho and Honami remembering this song means they also might wish to bring the band back. Saki has the courage to say that out loud. Shiho flat-out refuses, and Honami hesitantly denies, both departing the SEKAI. Miku urges Saki and Ichika to not give up on their feelings.

Chapter 6: Ichika reflects on her SEKAI encounter. She truly hopes that reforming the band might bring things back to how they used to be. The next day, Honami and Shiho cross paths in the hallway. Neither know what to think about the SEKAI. Shiho asks if Honami really does harbor such strong feelings about them all, but she's pulled away by her classmates before she can answer, upsetting Shiho. Her classmates still believe Shiho to be rude and sketchy. Honami tries defending her, but denies ever being friends out of fear of upsetting them. This only makes Shiho angrier. Meanwhile, Saki and Ichika have their own discussion about SEKAI. Saki is excited they all have Untitled on their phones, even though she was shot down. Ichika proposes starting a band, just the two of them. Saki accepts, hopeful Honami and Shiho will follow behind.

Chapter 7: Ichika and Saki head back to SEKAI to thank Miku and tell her the news. Luka pops in to introduce herself as well, and offers to mentor the both of them. The Virtual Singers reassure the two that their wish to be reunited is worthwhile, strengthening their resolve.

Chapter 8: Saki and Ichika walk around, grateful for the Virtual Singer's help. Ichika is grateful for Saki's presence, but again doubts her decision to not tell her why Shiho and Honami are so distant. In a flashback to middle school, it is revealed that one day, Shiho decided to completely isolate herself, declining to give any other reasoning than to practice bass. Back in the present, Ichika accidentally runs into Honami buying apple pies. She tells her that she and Saki had started a band and invites her again, but is turned down. Later that night, Honani questions why she turned down the offer yet again. Ichika thinks about how lonely Honami looked in middle school, despite her insistence everything was fine. The current Ichika berates herself for not helping sooner.

Chapter 9: Saki brings Ichika to a music store after school to help her choose a keyboard. They run into Shiho there. Saki begs Shiho to join their band so they can hang out again. Shiho reveals that she had been invited to join a band in middle school, but after arguing over not taking things seriously, she had been kicked out. Shiho gives Ichika and Saki a song to practice, with the promise to join their band if and only if they can manage to play it perfectly by the next week. Later that night, Shiho begins questioning if keeping her distance truly was the right move.

Chapter 10: Ichika and Saki run to tell Miku and Luka the good news, and to ask for help perfecting the song. While practicing, Saki plays Ichika an original melody. She then talks about Ichika's old love of writing song lyrics, and how she hopes to write with Ichika one day. Miku brings the pair to the rooftop to look at the stars. Ichika and Saki chat about their fond memories of watching the Leonids as kids. They're determined to watch the stars as a unit once again. A few days later, Ichika and Saki are ready to show Shiho the song. Honami sees the three of them talking from afar. She thinks her not joining them is for the best, but begins to wonder why it makes her feel so lonely.

Chapter 11: Shiho is impressed with how much Saki and Ichika had practiced. Suddenly, Saki collapses. Shiho regrets asking her to practice so hard, but Saki reassures her it wasn't her fault. Shiho tells Saki how she had kept refusing making new friends in middle school and turned into an outcast. Shiho had distanced herself from Ichika and Honami to protect their reputations from getting tainted, too. Shiho joins the band.

Chapter 12: The next week, Ichika finds Honami standing outside of her classroom to ask about Saki's recent absence. Ichika is glad Honami talked to her normally again. She then reveals Shiho had joined the band and asked her again if she'd like to join, too. Ichika expresses her guilt over not helping Honami when things got rough, to which Honami immediately shuts down. Honami explains how her middle school classmates had often taken advantage of her kindness to vent, which made others mad about her being a people-pleaser. The girls began bullying her behind her back, which began to spread to Ichika. Honami decided to cut ties to protect her. The current Honami is scared that accepting Ichika's friendship again would make the bullying resume. She runs away.

Chapter 13: Ichika, Saki, and Shiho talk about telling Miku and Luka about the new addition. Saki asks if Honami would want to come, too, but the other two doubt it. They proceed to tell her about what they know of Honami's middle school bullying. Shiho is upset with Honami over how submissive she's being, because she knows the true Honami knows how to stand her ground. She doesn't understand why Honami is giving up like this. Saki realizes it's probably best to give up on getting her to join the band to avoid causing her any trouble with her classmates.

Chapter 14: Luka notices Ichika's worries over the Honami situation. Luka tells Ichika that "there is no right or wrong in music",- there's no one right decision here, and that they should follow their hearts. Saki decides to tell Honami that they'll leave her be and apologizes for the trouble. She returns to Ichika and Shiho, but begins crying. She's sad about leaving her friend, but knows it's the right decision. Later, Ichika and Shiho discuss the matter, to which Shiho reveals how wrong it feels.

Chapter 15: Shiho confronts Honami in the hallway. She questions if this is what Honami really wants, and if she really cares about Saki's feelings at all. She calls Honami out for only caring about herself. Honami knows she hurt Saki, but she's terrified of being bullied again. Later that evening, Shiho runs into Ichika and regrets the harsh things she had said to their friend. Ichika praises Shiho for her determination. Shiho returns the compliment over Ichika's rationality.

Chapter 16: Ichika, Saki, and Shiho walk around after a productive SEKAI session. After Shiho departs, Ichika and Saki talk about how nice it is to have her back. Back home, Ichika reflects on how much she's changed since she was younger, and how powerless she feels when it comes to helping Honami. Suddenly, she finds an old notebook of song lyrics and gets an idea.

Chapter 17: Ichika goes to SEKAI for help. Miku realizes Ichika has found her true feelings: she loves her friends more than anything and wants to play with them again. Ichika realizes the star chart on the chalkboard must represent Honami's true feelings, too. The next day, Ichika asks to meet Honami after class.

Chapter 18: Ichika brings Honami over to the SEKAI's rooftop to show her the stars. They talk about their fond memories of the past, and how the stars always looked brighter because it was the four of them together. Ichika asks if Honami wants to be friends again. Honami is still scared of her bullies, but realizes just how much her true friends matter to her and berates herself for being so selfish. She really does want to be back with them. Saki and Shiho run over with Miku and Luka to congratulate her.

Chapter 19: Honami apologizes for distancing herself because of her lack of courage. She thanks Shiho for what she had said and officially joins the band. Untitled flashes and forms into a song: needLe.

Chapter 20: The next day, Honami tells her classmates about the events of the past few days. They're genuinely happy for her and the new band. It was a lot easier than she had feared. (Saki, Ichika, and Shiho watched from the window.) Later, the four of them discuss their band name. They all come up with the name "Leo/need", after the Leonid constellation, the slash of a shooting star, and how each member is needed in the group. In SEKAI, Miku and Luka watch a shooting star pass overhead.

Card Stories: Ichika / Saki / Honami / Shiho

Virtual Singer Chapter 1 (Pre-Chapter 0): Miku practices guitar on her own, hopeful the others will meet them soon. She wonders if she should start acting more like a senpai would, but isn't sure what exactly that entails. She decides that it means doing what Luka would. Miku tries it out, with little success. Luka comes in and questions what Miku is doing, reassuring her that she's always here to support in whatever way she can. Miku asks Luka what "senpai" means to her. Luka believes it's all dependent on the people around her.

Virtual Singer Chapter 2 (After Chapter 5): Miku waves Ichika and Saki goodbye after the first practice session. She trusts their resolve to bring them back together. Luka enters, having let Miku take the lead to introduce herself as a proper "senpai". She's proud of the hard work Miku had (secretly) been putting in for this day. They reflect on how each member's sound was hiding a piece of their personality within: Ichika's determination, Saki's joy, Shiho's distance, and Honami's fear. They banter a bit about the senpai role before practicing once again.

Virtual Singer Chapter 3 (After Chapter 14): Luka talks to Ichika about the latter's concern over Honami, and Miku Saki's. Miku reassures Saki that she's proud of her for considering Honami's feelings when deciding to leave her be. In the meantime, Luka and Ichika had finished their conversation and came over. Luka talks about how Miku has been working hard to become a proper senpai to the others, much to her embarrassment. They're certain Honami will realize her true feelings eventually.

Virtual Singer Chapter 4 (After Chapter 20): Miku and Luka discuss their feelings over the new Untitled song and the band's formation. Leo/need pop in and ask if they'd like to join a session, to which they happily agree. Saki talks about how they want to start writing their own songs and hands them Ichika's lyrics. Despite Ichika's embarrassment, they find them to be cute and sincere. Luka comments on Miku's excitement to be with the girls as their senpai.

#project sekai #leo/need #main story #hoshino ichika #tenma saki #mochizuki honami #hinomori shiho #l/n miku #l/n luka #shizuku shows up in chapter 6 and tsukasa is mentioned in chapter 12!

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