#gonna attempt to draw gore but i’ve never drawn anything like that before

[whumpy-wyrms]

every time i see my aunt she always asks me if there’s anything new going on with Aspen and Silas and then i infodump about them for an hour it’s really funny

like YES ask me about my gay cannibalistic vampire mortician who eats corpses and his equally deranged and weird immortal werewolf bloodbag at the family function! this is a totally normal and family-friendly thing to talk about in front of all my little cousins

[kyber-kisses]

I, Alone (Part 5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

wanna start from the beginning? Here is the masterlist!

Warnings: Dean continuing to lose his mind, more angst, spn level gore🤷‍♀️

Summary: as Dean continues to search for the missing piece in his life, the reader hits a snag on a case.

A/n: ahhh I am really loving writing this series! I hope you guys are enjoying it! Anyhow, the spn Taglist is still open and please tell me what you thought!

You missed home. There was no doubt about that.

No matter how fast you ran, no matter how many miles you put between you and the home. . . You missed it. You couldn’t help it.

Tucking your hands into the pockets of your coat, you moved silently down the street, eyes scanning over every inch you could see. Though the cobblestone street was empty, there were still street-lamps shining stubbornly into the night, casting sharp shadows on the opposing brick walls. It was as if they simply loved to share the amber glow. Under their steady watch the cream brickwork brought back a nostalgic feeling you couldn’t quite pinpoint. As you walked you let a hand trace over the bricks, slowly getting lost in thought.

Home. It had been so long. So long. At first being gone felt slightly weird, but now it just felt wrong. You didn’t belong here. You belonged on the other side of the Atlantic, not here on some abandon street in some small town in Spain. This wasn’t home. . . It was the furthest thing from it.

Home was the bunker and it grey walls, and the library with its massive collection of lore books. Home was the abandon back roads of America, the small motels with their flickering neon signs. Home was the backseat of Baby and her worn leather and faint scent of gunpowder, the sounds of Classic rock rolling freely out of the speakers. . . Home was Dean and his terrible jokes and contagious smile. You missed the last one the most, almost to the point where you could feel your heart breaking in your chest all over again and suddenly you had tears in your eyes to go along with it. Maybe it was because you knew he didn’t miss you in return.

No,no- now was not the time.

Quickly shaking your head, you cleared the haze in your mind. You were hunting. Now was not the time to be reminiscing about the past. Up ahead you could see the building you were aiming for, the slowly collapsing farmhouse only a silhouette as it sat at the end of the street, beyond where the lamplight ventured.

One thing you learned very quickly when you set foot in Europe was that the spirits were different. They were older and stronger and so much more restless. The ghost you were currently hunting was something of a poltergeist, and had killed several people in the last two weeks. No-one had survived a night in the abandoned rock built dwelling in living memory either. The locals said to stay away if you knew what was good for you. ( the victims clearly hadn’t listened.)

It was said that in life he was a mild mannered farmer, but around 1820 he watched his entire family get slaughtered before being treated to a particularly brutal death. He was hung by the neck and had his guts cut from him while he was still alive. Now he was restless, unable to rest in peace and full of fury.

Tightening up the straps of your pack, you eased open the lone door in front of you. The hinges creaked harshly making you wince as you stepped through the threshold, the darkness swallowing you for a moment before you adjusted again and turned on the headlamp, your other hand tightly gripping your shotgun. All you had to do was find his bones which were supposedly underneath the floorboards somewhere and burn them, and then you would be on your way and to the next town that needed saving. Easy peasy.

The rotted floorboards moaned with age as you crept through the space, ears and eyes alert to every little movement and sound. An uneasy breeze blew through the slowly falling apart building, bringing the scent of mildew and rot with it, a scent you knew all too well. Every step you took was met by another discordant shriek from the worm rotted floor boards, but you didn’t stop. You had done this so many times that not even the sounds up head of you made you flinch. A fine layer of dust coated the place and as you walked deeper into the belly of the home the floor got dustier, the floor boards got creakier and there was torn paint everywhere you looked. The vintage furniture was broken, chairs without legs and cabinets without doors - like a body with no soul that would never work. 

Then like a switch being flicked, the temperature dropped and your breath came out in wispy little clouds, and within seconds you were on high alert. the beam from your headlamp bouncing across the room as you whirled around.

But unfortunately you weren’t paying enough attention because a cold hand shot out of the dark and wrapped around your ankle, sending you to the rotting floorboards with one sharp pull along with a shout of surprise. Your shotgun slid off into the dark, leaving the light from your headlamp as your only ally. And then the poltergeist was on top of you, hands wrapped firmly around your throat as you desperately clawed at the floor trying to find something to help fight back. The spirit pulled you foreword slightly before slamming your head harshly back to the ground. Your mind quickly went into autopilot, in a last ditch attempt to survive—

And then the world went dark.

*. *. *. *. *. *. *

The bunker was a mess.

That was the only proper way to describe it as Sam stood stoic in the middle of the library. Books had been piling up on the table for the past few days, the shelves slowly becoming more vacant, some even littering the ground along with scribbled notes.

“Dean, what the hell?!”

As if on cue his brother poked his head up from where he was seated on the other side of the table, a mountain of literature dividing the two.

“What?”

“The place is a mess! What the hell are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out what the hell is happening to me and why I can’t remember things!” The older brother fumed, throwing his hands up in the air. “I just need to find a spell or something to help. Cas was helping me-“ Dean paused, eyebrows drawing together as he looked over his shoulder for the angel. “But he left. Angel business or something.”

Not this again. Sam thought, letting out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dean how many times do I have to tell you that you are not missing anything? You’ve been droning on about this for weeks. You need to stop.”

“I’m not stopping, Sam. I’ve lost something important to me and I intend on finding whatever it may be.” Dean flipped the page of the book he was currently buried in, a set look on his face. He wasn’t gonna let this go.

“Alright whatever. Continue on your crazy quest or whatever to find this ‘missing thing’. I’m done trying to stop you.”

“Alright, fine.” Dean muttered, eyes still fixated on the words in front of him as he picked up his book and moved out of the library, no doubt moving to his room instead.

Dean didn’t even have to look up from the massive leather bound book in his hands as he navigated the quiet corridors of their home. It was like shifting into autopilot. He knew this place like the back of his hand. His steps only faltered once when he came to the door from before, the brass numbers staring back at him intimidatingly before the Winchester shook his head and continued on towards his room, nose back in the book.

Nudging the door open with his foot, he flicked on the lights. The hinges of the door slightly squeaking as he closed it behind him fully and moved to take a seat in his desk chair, kicking his feet up on the worn wood of the desk. He was gonna find something soon. He could feel it in his bones.

He had maybe been seated for a mere minute before he paused, looking up from the book with eyebrows tightly drawn together. A sudden wave of curiosity rippled through the hunter as his jade eyes look across the room towards his nightstand, head tilting ever so slightly.

It was as if he was being pulled because he slowly closed his book and moved across the linoleum tiles, searing himself on the bed as he cautiously slid open the top drawer. He had no clue as to why he was doing it but he didn’t stop himself. Shifting through the contents of the drawer he came across an unfamiliar book at the bottom. . . Or was it familiar? Ignoring the rest of the contents he pulled the small book free before closing the drawer with a sharp thud.

The photo album was small. The front and back wrapped in a deep green leather that was soft to the touch, his initials burnt into the lower left corner of it. It was his. . . But he had no memory of ever buying it.

“Well hello there.” Brushing off the thin layer of dust collected on the top, Dean opened to the plastic pages, recognizing the the photographs held within as he flipped through them. They were pictures of him and Sam, Bobby, Cas. Even the one of him with his mother. His most cherished photos were all there, safe and tucked away.

But what got him wasn’t the photographs in front of him. It was the blank spots between them where other photographs clearly used to be. No person in their right mind would leave open spaces between photographs in a photo album. Something was meant to be there. Those spaces weren’t supposed to be empty. . .

Deans eyes stayed glued to the laminated pages, as he let his fingers dance along an empty photo slot. “Someone. . .”

The moment the word left his lips his eyes widened and he sucked in a breath as realization struck him, And then Dean Winchester was shooting off the bed like it had caught fire, throwing the door to his room open and bolting back down the hallway, the photo album clutched tightly in his hands.

“Sam!”

“God, what is it now?”

Deans socked feet slid across the floor as he rounded the corner into the war room, practically vaulting over the steps as he entered the library.

“Found it!”

“Found what?” Sam let out a sigh, before slightly jumping as Dean slammed the open photo album down on the table, a wide smile on his face.

“Look!”

Peering down at the page the younger Winchester shrugged, looking back up to his brother. “What am I looking at exactly?”

“The blank spots, see?!” Dean rapidly tapped on an empty space in the book, wide eyed and out of breathless.

“Yeah, you don’t take a lot of pictures-“

“No! No you don’t get it- it’s a someone.” Dean breathed, both excited and relieved that he was finally getting somewhere. “I’ve lost someone very important to me.”

To Be Continued. . .

SPN Taglist (still open)

@familybusinesswritingbro​@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti​ @callmekda​ @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum​ @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll​ @fandomnerdespressourself​ @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl​ @neerness @totallyluciferr​ @supernaturalenchanted​ @dolanfivsosxox​@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278​ @defenderrosetyler​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy @idksupernatural​ @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @beanie-beebo​ @xoxoaudreymarie​ @greenarrowhead​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Thirteen | Nuclear ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Hatake Kakashi ] [ Verse: In the Fallout ] [ Vulgarity, gun, gore ]

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“Hey!”

Glancing up from his cards, Obito scowls. “Kinda in the middle of something here.” And by ‘something’, he means a game of poker. He’s in a good position, and he really doesn’t want to be interrupted. If he can win the pot, he’ll get away with far more than he first put in.

“Fine, just...hurry up, will you? I’ve got news.”

“Yeah yeah” Obito replies blithely, adjusting his hand. “It can wait.”

Rolling his remaining eye, Kakashi turns to the barkeeper. “Whiskey.” Might as well do something in the interim. He sits backward on his stool, watching the game. Obito bets the rest of his cash, earning uncertain glances from the other three players. And then one by one, they all fold.

Grinning and deepening the scars on his face, Obito slaps down his cards. “Straight flush, bitches! Fork it over!”

Kakashi gives a slow shake of his head.

With a great deal of grumbling, they all shove the pot to Obito, who rakes it in greedily. “Pleasure, gentlemen. Until next time.” Pocketing his winnings, he sits beside Kakashi just as the bottle is delivered. “Guess this is on me!”

“Wonderful. Now can you give me five minutes to explain something to you?”

“Depends on if I get drunk in five minutes,” is Obito’s counter, knocking back a shot.

“Just...don’t get too hasty. All right?”

The Uchiha gives his friend a look. “The hell’s got you so worked up?”

“A new place to plunder, that’s what. Word is, it hasn’t been touched yet. And you know what that means.”

Pouring another shot, Obito slows. “...what is it?”

“Some old lab. Pre-war. Supposedly a lot of good tech certain folks would be more than happy to get their hands on. There’s a building on the surface that’s been hit, but some old wanderer I met tells me the real load is underneath, in the actual lab no one’s bothered to look for.”

“And if it’s some well-kept secret, how’d this old geezer know about it?” Obito counters, looking skeptical as he knocks back another shot.

“He’s a loner. Found it by accident, but there’s...complications. He couldn’t do much with it, so he sold me the info.”

Immediately, Obito deadpans. “...so you took the word of some crackpot old man about a secret lab and paid him for it? Kakashi, that is the stupidest fucking -!”

“Keep your voice down!” the Hatake hisses, shoving Obito’s head toward the counter and earning a grunt. “I already scoped it out before I came here. Seems pretty damn legit to me. If we can find even a few pieces of tech -?”

“I don’t want tech,” Obito spits. “I want cash, Kakashi!”

“Then you sell the tech for it, you dumbass! Not everything is a quick cash grab! Sometimes you have to work for it, huh? Think about it. This stuff is pre-war - undamaged by any nuclear fallout or blasts. Just sitting there. There are plenty of people who would die to have it.”

“Which means finding them, first! You wanna haul all that junk around before you have a buyer?”

“The hell do you think caches are for, huh? Why is every conversation I have with you an argument...why are we even partners?”

“I ask myself the same thing!”

The pair reach a deadlock, glowering at each other.

“...let’s just check it out. If you’re not happy with it, fine. But I want to at least see if we can turn a profit on anything. Because your gambling isn’t always so fruitful.”

“And neither is your spending money on supposed tips. But yeah, sure, let’s go.” Obito slaps the money for the whiskey on the table, taking the rest of the bottle with him.

He might need it.

Outside the dusty bar in the remnants of a town, they start walking, Kakashi pulling out a worn map. “It’s right out here, a few miles out.”

“Won’t it be dark by the time we get there?”

“We’ll just camp in what’s left of the building. Then we’ll have a full day to check things out.”

“More like a full day to waste…”

“I heard that.”

“Good!”

The rest of the walk is done in a stony silence, neither of them willing to concede any ground. And as the sun sets, the lab looms up atop a hill. All of the windows are smashed, part of the right side collapsed.

“Looks like a shitshow,” Obito remarks, earning a sigh from his companion. “Something this obvious has surely been picked clean.”

“On the surface, sure. But it seems no one ever realized there was more underground.”

“And how did some random old man figure this out?”

“Because he actually sat and read the documents in this place. Realized there was more to it. You think anyone else is going to care about that kind of thing?”

“I know I wouldn’t.”

Kakashi gives a brief lift of his arms in defeat. “...yeah well, exactly.”

“So he didn’t have the physical means to take advantage, or…?”

“According to him, it was ‘too stressful’. Which, to be fair, could mean...a number of things. There might be lingering security down there. Structure might be faulty. Flooded. No idea until we look.”

Obito grumbles. “When are you gonna learn that people being vague rarely means good things?”

“Well after last week, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Hey, I’m making up for last week!”

“And until you do, we’re giving this a shot.”

Heaving a sigh, the Uchiha decides to just play along, moving to gather some broken wood to get a fire going. The sooner he lets Kakashi play this out, the sooner they can get moving again. The wasteland is vast, and opportunities can easily pass one by. And he’d prefer something a bit more exciting than rummaging around some old science junk.

Once they cook some of their rations and find dry, level places to unfurl their bedrolls, the pair of them hunker down for the night.

And like every day since the bombs fell, the sun rises again, scorching the Earth’s devastated surface.

By the time Obito rises, Kakashi’s already been up, examining some documents with his one remaining eye. “You’re up early. Now I know you’re serious.”

“No day like the present,” Kakashi rebukes. “Seems they were working on some kind of DNA...stuff. I dunno, I’m not a scientist.”

“Obviously. Which is why this stuff is just money to you, not of actual interest.”

“And which is why you shouldn’t complain, because money is money. Now help me find the way down.”

“You haven’t found it yet?!”

“No! I found the documents. Which confirm there’s something under this building. The only question is where, specifically.”

“...I’m gonna punch you,” Obito mutters. “Can’t we just take a sledgehammer to the floor?”

“Do you have a sledgehammer?”

“...no.”

“Then the answer is no. Come on, it can’t be that hard.”

They spread out, looking for any manner of descent. Obito checks doors in search of an elevator shaft, Kakashi attempting to find stairs.

In the end, it’s Kakashi who’s successful.

“Over here!”

Obito closes the gap, revealing Kakashi pointing to a button. “...and? This place obviously doesn’t have any pow-”

With a bop of the end of his closed fist, Kakashi pushes the button.

A grating whine sounds, and the floor before them quivers. Then slowly, it slides back beneath the floor beyond it, revealing...stairs.

“...what the hell…?”

“Weird lab, weird stairs, weird power,” Kakashi replies with a shrug. “Look, there’s even lights. How convenient.”

“And you wanna go down there?!”

“Yes, yes I do. Stay up here if you want, you big baby. We’ve been in shadier places before and you’ve been fine.”

“Shady people I can handle,” Obito retorts, following as Kakashi begins to descend. “It’s shady stuff that weirds me out. You can’t just kill shady stuff.”

“You can break it. Same difference.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it!”

Down and down they descend, the staircase having switchbacks every ten feet down or so. Obito watches their surroundings suspiciously. The air is cool and pleasant, which...is odd. No dust, no smoke, and perhaps even slightly humid. Nothing like the stale, dry air above.

After who knows how many flights...they reach a door.

Kakashi presses an ear to it, listening. “...don’t hear anything.”

“It better not be locked.”

Testing the knob, Kakashi feels it turn in his grip. “...seems not.” Just in case, he draws a pistol from his hip. Obito, in tandem, takes out his trusted machete.

Inside...it’s like another world. Clean, immaculate, and almost entirely made of metal. Desks are neatly arranged, with all manners of equipment seemingly left just as they were before the war.

“...wow,” Obito has to offer, tone breathy in amazement. “This is…”

“Yeah. Never seen anything like it.” Approaching one of the desks, Kakashi finds more documents. “...‘genetic enhancement and manipulation’. That sounds...ominous.”

Obito, in the meantime, works his way further in. Computers, diagnostic equipment, and who knows what else is everywhere, pristine and spotless. It almost freaks him out. Opening another door, his face pales.

“...uh...Kakashi…?”

“Hm?”

“...you need to see this.”

Gun still drawn, Kakashi approaches, trying to look over Obito’s shoulder. “What?”

Wordlessly, Obito steps inside, pushing the door open further and letting his partner past him.

It’s a long, narrow room. In the middle is more tech neither of them could begin to name, but...it looks serious. A few metal tables the length of a person stand nearby. And along the other three walls are a series of glass tubes filled with an off-green liquid. Within them...are rotting bodies.

“...Christ,” Kakashi can’t help but mutter. “Looks like these all got left behind.”

Obito, only half listening, works his way in. “...is it just me, or...does it get less bad the further you go…?”

“What?”

“Look.” He points. While the first few tubes are nothing but cloudy liquid with skeletons and deteriorated flesh, he’s right. The decomposition seems less and less the more they circle around. At the top of the tubes, screens are empty of power, clearly drained over time. Until -

“Oh shit!”

The very. Last. Tube. Above it, the panel flashes red in warning. Power is almost completely drained. But within the tank, seemingly in some kind of suspended animation...is a person.

Slightly curled into a fetal position the body - seemingly female - floats weightlessly in the fluid. A series of wires are strung into their flesh, and a mask with a tube provides oxygen. And bubbles occasionally release as she exhales.

“...holy fuck.”

“How can this be possible? The bombs dropped over a hundred years ago. And whoever this is, they look no older than us!”

“Maybe some kind of...delayed development?” Kakashi muses, still staring. “I have no idea. But you know what this means…? This is probably the only living person from before the war. Untouched by radiation. You know how valuable that would be to the right people? People trying to find ways to -?”

“What?! You wanna turn her over to a bunch of freaks in lab coats? Kakashi, she’s never even been outside this tube. You really think she should just be shuffled off to another one to be studied? That’s fucked up!”

“You’re the one who wanted this whole thing to be worthwhile and make us some cash!”

“Yeah, with tech. Not with people! We might as well be like the slavers at that point, and fuck that.”

Sighing, Kakashi runs a hand back through the mess of his hair. “So, what...you wanna just let her out and wish her luck on her way? You think taking someone like this and just...turning them loose in this world is fair, either?”

“I dunno! But I’m not gonna sell her as a lab rat, Kakashi. No fucking way.”

“Then what, leave her here? Seems she’s got a few days left of power. Less now that we’ve sucked some up with the lights and the stairs.”

“And let her turn into goop like the rest of these poor bastards?”

“There really doesn’t seem to be any fair option here, Obito. So make up your mind. You found her, you decide.”

Obito balks, heart leaping to his throat. He didn’t ask for this…!

“You better hurry because we’re running out of lights down here the longer we dawdle. I’m gonna go pack up what I can. You figure this out.”

“But -?!” Reaching out, he’s denied as Kakashi heads back into the other room. “...ugh, damn it!” Huffing a breath, he turns back to the tube.

Given she’s likely never had any light, the woman is pale as milk. And...maybe for the same reason, so is the rest of her: long, wavy hair almost seems to glow in the strange fluid. It’s a bit hard to tell given how much she’s floating, but it almost seems to be as long as she is tall.

...then again, he figures she’s never had a haircut.

...he can’t leave her here. And he won’t let her get snapped up by some freak wanting to study her like a bug in a jar. So, that leaves one option. Looking at the right side of the tank, Obito finds a kind of keypad: maybe a mechanism for opening the door? Cuz something tells him just...smashing the glass isn’t smart. “Uh…”

He needs a password.

Moving to the equipment, he shuffles through a bunch of papers, opening a filing cabinet and finding folders for the specimens. Glancing to her tube, he finds the number, a finger tracing down the paper until -

“Two four seven three,” he murmurs, repeating it under his breath until he’s back at the keypad, pressing the keys in sequence.

A loud beep sounds, and he startles as massive bubbles flood up from the floor of the tube. The liquid, it’s...it’s draining! She slowly sinks to a tangle of limbs at the bottom.

And then, with a pressurized hiss, the glass swings open, and she nearly tumbles out.

“Oh, shit -!” Kneeling, he manages to catch her, nose wrinkling at the smell of...whatever she was in. And she’s wet. Eugh.

Carefully, he starts taking out the wires, wincing as the sites bleed. And off comes the mask, letting her breathe air on her own for the first time.

“What the hell is -?”

“Kakashi! Find a rag or something, she’s bleeding wherever I take the wires out.”

Seeing that Obito apparently made up his mind, Kakashi sighs and finds a dispenser of paper towels. Handing those over, he then grabs one of the abandoned lab coats.

Since she is, after all, completely nude.

Obito mops her off, trying to wipe both blood and mystery liquid off her skin, going pink as he nears anything intimate. Once she’s a bit cleaner, he lifts her up and lets Kakashi help him get her as dressed as they can manage. A spare bit of cable ties it shut around her waist.

“...why isn’t she waking up?” the Uchiha then asks.

“No idea. Maybe she’s dead?”

“No, no - she’s breathing.”

“Try slapping her.”

Obito shoots him a look. “...hey, miss? Uh...hello?”

No response, her head lolling around on her neck.

“...well, let's - let’s get her back upstairs. Then we can come back down for any stuff you wanna haul out.”

“I’ve got a few bags full. And you’re gonna have to keep an eye on her. I’ll make a few trips in the meantime.”

“...all right.” Hefting her up on his back, Obito begins the ascent back to the surface, admittedly sad to leave the clean air behind.

Well...he has a person. Now what?

Back in their camp, he lays her on his bedroll. Her hair is still wet, and he mulls it over before turning her on her side. Deft fingers then start braiding. Once she has a long tail of plait, he ties it off with some wire. There...that’ll keep it from getting too out of hand.

“...mn…”

He stiffens. Is...is she waking up? “H-hello?”

Her eyelids twitch, leading him to notice her white lashes. Then they open to reveal a soft pair of grey eyes.

...Obito then realizes that she’s likely got no memories, no language...nothing.

Oh boy.

“...uh...hi?” he greets sheepishly, lips briefly flickering up into a smile. “...I’m Obito.”

Completely blank, she stares at him.

“...you, uh…” He sighs, rubbing his neck. “...can you...understand me?”

More unaware staring.

“Aw, crap. Well, uh…” Adjusting to sit cross-legged, he puts a hand to his chest. “...Obito.”

Her eyes drop to his hand, then back to his face.

“Obito.”

“...O...bito…”

He perks up. “Yeah!”

“...yeah.”

...okay, maybe she’s just copying him. Thinking it over for a moment, he recalls a book he got to read a while back, stolen from a camp they’d stayed at. It had a heroine, and her name was…

He then (very shyly) puts a hand to her chest. “...Ryū.”

Again, she looks to the hand, then back to him. “...R...Ryū…?”

A nod. “Ryū.” Hand back to his own chest. “Obito.”

“Okay, I’ve got the first -”

Obito points. “Kakashi.”

Following the gesture, Ryū sees Kakashi freeze. She also points. “...Kakashi!”

Amused, Obito bursts out laughing, clapping his hands and making her startle. “Hahaha! You got it!”

“Well this is going to be fun,” Kakashi mutters. “You’ve got an adult with the mental awareness of a baby.”

“She’ll learn!”

“With you as her teacher, that scares me.”

“Then you’ll just have to help, Kakashi.”

Sighing, he approaches and sits nearby. He points to Obito. “Idiot.”

“Hey -!”

“I...diot?”

“No!” Obito cuts in, waving his hands.

“Yes, idiot,” is Kakashi’s reply, laughing as Obito shoves him.

“...Obito.”

The pair pause, looking to her. By now, she’s more bright-eyed, clearly curious. She points. “Obito.” Her hand moves. “...Kakashi.”

Obito then points to her. “Ryū!”

“What kind of a name is -?”

“It’s her name! I got it from a book, okay?”

“All right, all right...guess you get the right. But we need to get her some supplies. And we better keep her out of the sun for too long for a while, let her get used to it.”

“Yeah…” There’s a lot to think about.

“...well, welcome to the nuclear waste dump that is Earth,” Kakashi offers. “You’ll learn to love it. Or hate it. Likely both. But at least you won’t turn into soup like your friends.”

Obito’s nose wrinkles. “...okay, but...let’s never tell her about that part once she understands, okay? It’ll only upset her.”

“Fine. Now, I’m gonna haul up some more stuff. Be on your best behavior.” Kakashi points warningly to the two of them.

“Kakashi!” Ryū replies, watching him go.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back. Sadly,” Obito notes with a snort. Elbow on his knee and chin in his palm, he watches as Ryū takes in her surroundings, and then starts fiddling with anything within reach: debris, his bag...and then him.

He stiffens, but lets her curiously prod at him. She pulls at his clothes, seemingly understanding it’s separate from him. Then he takes his hand in her hands, turning it over and back before comparing it to her own.

...then she moves to his face.

Unlike the rest of her touches, these are more...hesitant. Careful. She seems to know it’s a bit more fragile. Eyes roam over it, drinking in his image.

“...ugly, huh?” he murmurs, knowing she can’t understand.

But she doesn’t flinch, a hand tracing along the ridges of his scars.

“Got those from a mutant. Plus a lot more you can’t see. It’s how Kakashi lost his eye, too. But he can tell you about that.”

She pauses to listen, but doesn’t comprehend. “...Obito.”

“...mhm. That’s me.”

More touches to his face, and then, tone softer, “...Obito…”

Blinking, he feels his face get warm. “...uh…?”

The phenomenon surprises her, jolting before pressing her palms to his cheeks, squishing them slightly to feel the heat.

And then she giggles.

It’s a sweet, chime-like sound. And Obito immediately adores it. “...you’re so cute,” he mumbles.

“...cute?”

“...uh -?”

“All right, I think that’s all we can reasonably carry. Especially since she can’t really...uh…” Kakashi perks a brow. “...am I interrupting something?”

Flustered, Obito leans back from her grip. “No!”

“...then let’s get ready to go.”

By the time they finish packing up, the afternoon is fading into evening. Obito draws a spare cloak over Ryū to keep her out of the sun. “There we go.”

“Ready?” his partner asks.

“I guess so.” The pair start walking, and...Obito realizes she’s not following. “Aw, jeez...uh…” Heading back, he holds out a hand.

After a pause, she does the same.

“Come on,” he mumbles, taking her grip and urging her to keep up.

“Obito!”

“...yup.”

     Okay not gonna lie, I...did not have high hopes for this prompt, but by the end I really enjoyed it xD I don’t, uh...participate much in the apocalypse genre (besides watching my brother play Fallout 4 lmao) so I don’t have much imagery to go off of. So I gave it my best shot .w.      While kinda gross in the middle there, it turned out cute by the end xD Obito’s got his work cut out for him, bahaha! But that’s all for today - thanks for reading!