#if i hear him shit talking himself i fear i shall do something drastic

[my-fall-from-grace]

logan pookie who cares about q3 you’re too pretty for that anyways. you’ve done so well today muah 🫶

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The Devil You Know: Part One

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,466

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

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Before, you could understand Dean’s hurt at your betrayal of your family. Before, seeing him so upset actually made sense. Before, you were okay with him distancing himself from you. He just found out pretty upsetting news about how you killed your child without even asking him about how he felt. His feelings are validated, and you’re not trying to tell him they aren’t…

But enough is enough.

He’s taking this too far, and he’s crossing the line into dickhead territory. A part of you thinks he’s doing this just to get back at you like revenge of some sort, and the other half of you thinks this is how he truly feels still. The latter is winning, which is why you’re not taking drastic matters to try and force this upon him. If only he would just sit down and talk to you, then maybe you can start the healing process.

“Dean just listen to me!” you yell in the empty motel room.

If there are neighbors, they will surely hear this.

“I am done listening to you! I don’t want to hear another word out of you!”

“You’re being a fucking dick! Boo hoo, your feelings got hurt. Yeah, well, so are mine! You don’t see me throwing a fit whenever you walk into the room because that’s exactly what you’re doing. Forget us having a kid, you’re the fucking child right now! Do me a favor and grow the fuck up!”

Dean’s chest puffs out in anger at being called out on his bullshit. Yes, he does realize he’s being a bit dramatic, but how can he let something like this go so easily? He gives you a death glare and stalks over to you. It’s only when he gets an inch from you that he stops. His fists flex at his side, and he clenches his jaw in anger.

“Do it,” you say without hesitation.

“Do what?” he says in a low voice.

“Hit me. Punch me. Kick me to the ground. Do whatever you have to do. Whatever will help you sleep at night, right? Take your anger out on me because I know you want to. I can see it in your eyes.”

He stares deep into your soul, and behind the layer of anger and frustration, you can see the hurt and betrayal that’s left behind. He knows you can read him better than anyone else in the world which is why this hurts so much more. You know stuff about him that no one else does which is why this hurts so much more. He scoffs and turns away from you. He heads out of the motel room, letting the door slam behind him.

This relationship isn’t going to continue if things are like this. It’s up to you if you want to try and salvage it.

Following Pestilence’s trail is a lot easier said than done. He’s hitting town after town, and whenever you do get to it, you’re eating his dust. He’s infecting a lot of people along the way, but what you don’t understand is why he’s infecting people with things such as swine flu, colds, and other meaningless things. He has the power to unleash the Croatoan virus, so why isn’t he?

You can ponder on the unknown, or you can deal with what’s happening right here and now. Since Dean obviously wants to act like a child, then the only thing left to do is focus on the case. You’re at the hospital with the brothers talking with the head doctor who’s overlooking every case. In order not to contract the swine flu, you four are wearing doctor’s masks to block the infection from spreading to you even though your magic will protect you from it.

“Don't get me wrong, I'm glad the CDC is here, but what we really need is vaccine,” the female lead doctor says when she enters the main room where dozens of sick people are coughing and sneezing.

“You got that right,” Dean scoffs.

“Then, tell me, have you noticed anything unusual about the strain? Any signs of behavioral change, like aggression, maybe?” you ask her.

“Excuse me?”

“Have the flu victims shown any signs of, uh, homicidal tendencies?” you went in another direction.

“Uh, symptomatically speaking, we're looking at a relatively mild case of swine flu here. Probably add up to a miserable week off of work, and that's about it,” she chuckles nervously.

A male nurse approaches her with a clipboard, and she takes it to sign whatever paperwork is on there.

“So, nothing unusual?” Dean asks.

“A day and a half ago, we didn't have a single case. Now we're looking at over seventy—the infectious equivalent of a briefcase bomb. So, yeah, I might call that a little unusual.”

“Day and a half?” Sam whispers to you and Dean while she consoles with the male nurse.

“That's the same time those statues started crying,” Dean confirms.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“What was what?” you chuckle nervously.

“Did you just say a bunch of statues started crying?”

“What?” Sam laughs nervously. “No. W-who would--”

“Who would say that, huh? Crazy people,” Dean cuts off his brother.

“Exactly.”

“Which we’re not,” you add.

“Just get us some vaccine,” she says and walks away.

Dean lets out a relieved sigh, and he’s the first one to leave the area. You look at Sam and follow him out to the car. You take off your doctor’s mask as Dean pulls away from the curb, and you slide to the middle. Your dad did want to be updated on what was happening, so you pull out your phone and dial his number. He answers on the third ring.

“Let me guess, another steaming hot pile of swine flu.”

“Yeah.”

“It doesn't make any sense, Bobby. Pestilence touched down here. I'm sure of it,” Sam sighs.

“My question is,” you voice your thoughts, “why is he infecting people with stuff like the flu when he has the power to deliver the Croatoan virus? I don’t get it.”

“It doesn't matter what the sick son of a bitch is doing. What matters is this is the fourth town he's hit—that we know of—and we're still eating his dust. Did you get anything? Maybe about where he’s headed?”

“No pattern we can see,” Sam answers.

“Okay, well, as far as I can tell, he’s headed east so head east.”

“East?” you, Sam, and Dean say at the exact same time.

“Bobby, we're in West Nevada. East is practically all there is,” Dean sighs.

“Yeah, well, you better get to driving,” he says and hangs up.

You put your phone away and slide back to your side of the seat. It’s better for you to be directly behind Dean so he can’t look at you while he’s driving. Sam’s got a better view of you than his brother. It’s weird to say, but ever since the secret came out, Sam has been very caring towards you. He knows how hard this is for you and Dean, and he’s trying his best to make sure he doesn’t make it any harder. Right now, you consider him your only friend since it’s clear Dean doesn’t want to be yours.

“Say,” Crowley’s rough voice comes from next to you, “I’ve got an idea.”

Dean slams on the brakes and swerves the car to a screeching halt. When the car finally stops moving, you and Sam go after the demon together. He uses Ruby’s knife, and you use your magic. However, Sam stabs the leather seats because Crowley is gone.

“Did you get him?” Dean pants.

“He’s gone.”

“Fancy a chat?” Crowley knocks on the back window with a smile. All three of you exit the car immediately, and Crowley backs away in fear Sam might actually kill him. “You’re upset. We should discuss it.”

“You want to talk? After what you did to us?” Sam yells.

He’s more pissed about Crowley than you are even though Ellen and Jo are just as dear to you as they are to him.

“After what I—what I did to you?! I gave you the colt!” Crowley shouts.

“Yeah, and you knew it wouldn't work against the devil!” you yell.

“I never!”

“You set us up. We lost people on that suicide run—good people!”

“Who you take on the ride is your own business! Look, everything is still the same. W-we're all still in this together,” the demon chuckles nervously.

“Sure we are,” Sam nods.

He attempts to stab Crowley again, but he teleports behind him. Sam looks around for the demon, and when he spots him, he starts to head over to him.

“Call off your dog, please,” Crowley begs.

Dean puts his arm out to stop Sam, but you can tell he’s close to snapping.

“Give me one good reason.”

“I can give you pestilence.”

“What do you know about pestilence?” you ask.

“I know how to get him. That's got your interest, doesn't it?”

“Are you actually listening to this?” Sam gasps when he gets a good look at his brother’s facial expressions.

It’s not ideal, but the sooner you get the keys, the sooner Lucifer gets put back in the cage.

“Sam—”

“Are you fucking nuts?”

“Shut up for a second, Sam!”

“Shut up, the both of you!” Crowley butts in. “Look… I swear... I thought the colt would work. It's an honest mistake. It's all part of the learning process. But nothing's changed. I still want the devil dead. Well… onething's changed. Now, the devil knows that I want him dead. Which, by the way, makes me the most buggered son in all of creation.”

“Holy shit,” you gasp as if you suddenly came to a realization. “We don’t care.”

“They burnt down my house! They ate my tailor! Two months under a rock, like a bloody salamander! Every demon on hell and Earth's got his eyes out for me! And yet... Here I am… Last place I should be, in the road, talking to Sam and Dean Winchester and Y/N Singer, under a fucking spotlight!” he gestures to the streetlight above, and it explodes. “So, come with me. Please. Do you want the horsemen rings or not? Yes, I know all about that. Shall we?”

“Lead the way,” you sigh in defeat.

First Dean and now Crowley. You can’t catch a break.

Apparently, Crowley lives in an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. It’s a step down from the mansion that you and Jo broke into a few months ago. If he’s on the run, then he’ll want low profile places like this one. You’ve been in his shoes, actually, so you know what it feels like to go from something so “luxurious” to this.

“Here we are, my life on the lam. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Single-pane glass, used contraception in the fireplace,” he flicks his hand at the fireplace and the logs go up in flames. “The water damage alone—”

“My heart's bleeding for you. Now, how do you know about the rings?” Dean interrupts.

“Well, now… I've been keeping a close eye on you lot.”

“We got hex bags. We're hidden from demons,” Sam points out.

“All but one,” he motions to himself. “That night you broke into my house, our first date, my valet hid a tracking device in your car. It’s a magical coin that easily trumps your little bags o' bones. It allows me to hear things, too—and, my, the things I've heard. So, you want to cram the devil back in the box? Cunning scheme. I want in.”

“You said you could get us pestilence,” you keep him on track of why you’re really here.

“Now, I don't know where pestilence is per se. But I do know the demon who does. He's what you might call the horsemen's stable boy. He handles their itineraries and their personal needs. He's who you want, believe me. He'll tell us where Sneezy's at.”

“Well, how do we get him to spill? Rip out his toenails?” Dean questions.

“No. Nuts at his pay grade don't crack. We bring him here, then I sell him.”

“Sell him?” you scoff.

“Please. I've sold sin to saints for centuries. Think I can't close one little demon?”

“Fine, where is this demon of yours?”

“I’ll lock in his location, you get ready. It’s going to be one hell of a fight,” he chuckles.

He leaves the room, and you and Dean get the duffel bags ready. You two still aren’t talking, and Sam can see how this is going to be played. It’s either he talks to either one of you or he becomes a middle ground for your fighting. He doesn’t want to deal with the fighting, so he opts for the former.

“Why are we even listening to him, Dean? This is totally insane.”

“I don’t disagree,” he shrugs.

“What other choice do we have, Sam? We’ve gotten nowhere on our own, so I think it’s time to bring in some outside help. We have no clue where Death and Pestilence are. Crowley does,” you whisper the last part.

“She’s right,” the demon says when he enters the room. “One big happy family, are we, then? Fantastic.”

“You ready to go?” Dean asks him.

“Yes. Sam, keep the home fires burning.”

“Excuse me?” you stop him.

“Sam's not coming.”

“And why the hell not?” Sam gasps.

“Because I don't like you, I don't trust you, and oh, yes, you keep trying to kill me!”

“There's no damn way. This isn't gonna happen!”

“I’m not asking you, am I? Because you’re not invited. I’m asking you two,” Crowley points at you and Dean. “What’s it going to be?”

Since this is in regards to the case and the fate of the world, you and Dean make eye contact as if you’re considering this. He doesn’t hold it long, and he passes it to Sam who keeps it a lot longer than you did. Crowley takes the silence as his answer, and he backs away slowly to give you three more time to change your minds before he’s gone for good.

“Gentlemen, lady, enjoy your last few sunsets.”

“Wait,” Dean stops him. Sam looks at him like he’s crazy, but it’s the only choice we have right now. “We’ll go.”

“Sam, we have no other choice,” you say as you follow him.

“She’s right. What can I say? I believe the guy,” Dean shrugs.

“Just stay warm, okay?” you offer and leave with the two men.

Being with Crowley is a lot better than being alone with Dean because who knows what might happen if you two are unsupervised.

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[lexxierave]

Why Should I Care - Billy Russo Part 24

A/N: This is a long chapter!

Warning: Unwanted touching

"It's good to see you again Wilson." You greeted the man.

"I've told you before my friends call me Willie." He corrected you

"So we're friends?" You gave him a questioning gaze as you stepped out of his touch. You almost forgot how imposing he was.

"I'd like to think so. I've always preferred your company to that of your ex's." He told you as he gave you a smile.

You knew Wilson Fisk could be a very dangerous man but you also knew he never took a shining to your ex, which was funny because your ex introduced you to him. You figured it was to get on Fisk's good side but the joke was on him. Fisk still didn't give two shits about your ex but did take an immediate liking to you.

"I think we can both agree on that." You gave him a genuine smile.

"Well, shall we?" He asked gesturing to the door leading to the gala.

"I'll be in a bit." You told him. "I need a breather after that mess outside."

"Very well. Just remember not to be a stranger." He smiled at you before he left.

You wished you could have walked in with Wilson, it would have made you feel safer but you needed to get your head on right. Your ex was somewhere on the other side of those double doors and you were going to have to get close enough to touch him.

You almost turned to run when your phone buzzed. Taking a quick glance at it you saw it was a text from Maria.

-Hope you're having fun.

-Kids miss you! We miss you!

She sent you an attached picture of all of them and that's all you needed to see. It reminded you why you had to stop running.

You took a deep breath and straightened your back before you walked to the large double doors.

There were two men there opening the doors and you gave them a small nod before entering. Your eyes scanned the room looking at all the party goers until the landed on Billy.

Billy had hoped he got there before you. He set himself up by the bar, facing the doors, as he scanned the room. He didn't spot you so he ordered a whiskey to keep up the ruse.

Once he received his drink his eyes scanned the room again as he brought his lips to his glass. His whole body stilled when he took in the sight of you.

He knew he saw you in that dress before but seeing you now took his breath away and he couldn't help but to stare.

"That's a nice piece of ass," A man next to him said and Billy had to restrain himself for decking the guy.

"That's a piece of art." He corrected him with a sneer, still not taking his eyes off you.

You watched him as he gave you a small nod and you finally tore your eyes away. 

You had to do the daunting task of going face to face with your ex.

You took another deep breath before you set out. 

You made the small greetings when someone called out your name and did tour best to avoid getting stuck talking to someone. You wanted this night to be over quickly.

While it seemed like forever it didn't take long to finally spot him. He was off to the side chatting up some rich older men. And if you didn't know him better you would have found him charming and extremely good looking. But nowhere near as good looking as Billy; every bit of him was different compared to Billy.

He wore his traditional light tan suit, the same one he wore when he first took you out. He said it brought him good luck if it got a second date with you. At the time you thought the notice was cute and loved to see him wear it. Now you hated it with a passion, especially since he wore knowing he was forcing you to go with him.

His bleached blonde hair, which had once reminded you of a surfer now all it reminded you of was how it reflected how cold his heart was.

You gave a glance over to Billy in hopes to convey you'd found your mark. To your surprise, he was already staring at you. His dark eyes almost hypnotizing you but you managed to give a small motion with your head in the direction of your ex before you turned away.

When your eyes landed on him again he was already looking at you and a cocky smirk spread across his face; you wanted nothing more than to wipe it right off him but instead forced a small smile on your face.

He wasted no time, as he quickly excused himself, and made his way over to you and soon was standing inches away from you.

His hands quickly went to your hips and he held a tight hold, that you were sure was going to leave bruises. He pulled you flesh against his chest and rest his face in the crook of your neck. You noticed the two men off in the corner of the room take a few steps closer, rich boy really didn't go anywhere without help.

"God I missed touching you." He said as he nuzzled his nose against your skin.

You shivered from how cold his presence made you feel but unfortunately, he thought it was a different type of shiver.

"Don't worry Baby Girl, I'll warm you back up real quick." He whispered just loud enough for you to hear and his hands traveled to your ass, where he gave it a quick squeeze. You gave a gasp at the sudden contact but barely had time to do anything before his hands started to circle back to your sides. His right hand gripped your hip again while his left hand continued to trail down to the slit of your dress.

"This isn't the dress I picked out for you Baby Girl but I do love the easy access." He said as he slides his hand under the cut and moved his fingers up your inner thigh.

You tried to push him back but his grip was too strong and his response was to bite down on the flesh of your neck.

Billy was still seated at the bar nursing his drink when you ex approached you. He noticed the drastic difference between himself and the man in front of you. The difference was night and day and he had to wonder if you would have given him a second look if your ex didn't turn out how he did.

Would you have flirted with him the way you did if you could have that glamorous rich lifestyle? He didn't think so. He was damaged goods and you deserved only the best in life. Things he couldn't give you.

He was snapped from his thoughts when he saw what your ex was doing to you. His jaw tightened and his lips pursed as he was forced to sit there and watch him pull you close and roam his hands all over your body. He knew he couldn't make a scene but he lost it when he saw him slide his hand in the slit of your dress. He gripped his glass so hard it broke. He was thankful that the room was loud enough for only two other people to pay notice, the bartender and the man who made the comment about you.

You had your eyes shut tight trying to remember how it felt when Billy had done the same but you couldn't; it all felt wrong. You needed to stop this but he was just too damn strong. Stupid personal trainer was what you thought as you shot a quick look over to Billy to ask for help but the notion didn't go unnoticed by your ex. His grip on your hip increased and he pulled his other hand back.

"Perhaps Drew was right in trying to collect you." He seethed gripping your jaw tightly.

Your eyes were wide in shock for a brief moment before a glare settled in your features. "I have no idea what you're on about?" You lied

"You don't think I wouldn't have my eyes on the door the whole night? I've seen the looks you've been sending pretty boy over there." His said, his voice was growing with anger at every word.

He turned you around and pressed your back to his chest. He made sure you were facing Billy. You could see the silent rage on Billy's face even from this far away.

"Do you think he enjoyed the show?" He whispered in your ear.

It was then that you realized he had set a trap. His location in the room and his actions before, they weren't just to search you for a weapon but to display his claim on you in front of Billy and show you that he was steps ahead of you.

Billy noticed the look of distress on your face and moved to help you but was stopped short of taking a step forward. He felt the press of a gun's barrel on his lower back.

You watched as Billy started to move towards you but quickly froze in his movements. "You've had a man on him all night." You realized in fear.

"You always were a smart woman AJ. Just not smart enough to stay where you were supposed to." He whispered in your ear.

"Maybe you just couldn't handle me." You spat back. You weren't going to give him any satisfaction in his victory.

"And pretty boy could?" He laughed "I'll make you a deal. Come back home with me and I'll let this one live and leave that cute little family you're so fond of alone." 

You knew that was a lie. You knew he would never let any man you were interested in live, especially if he found out how close you two had gotten. But you also knew Billy was trained and that was something he didn't know. You just hope it would be enough of an advantage.

"Fine. You win. I'll go with you. So long as you don't kill him." You turned your head to look him in the eyes.

"Shall we seal it with a kiss?" He asked before placing his mouth over yours. You gave no response to the kiss and it was over almost as quickly as it began.

He pulled away, still filled with rage when you didn't return his kiss.

"Let's go." He ordered moving his hand to your wrist before pulling you towards the doors.

You failed to see the signal he sent his man to lead Billy out to finish him off but you already knew it would happen. This wasn't the first time it's happened after all. 

You were quickly rushed through the doors followed by the two men who held the door open for you, his men you realized.

He noticed the paparazzi still outside and turned to lead you out a side door of the hotel.

On your journey to the carpark, you heard one of the guy's radio goes off. 

"Boss, it's for you." The guy to the left of him told him handing his radio over

"Go ahead." He said with a grin you knew too well. 

"I got him out the back. Want me to finish him?" The man, who you assumed was the one behind Billy at the bar, asked.

"Yeah. Have fun. Radio when the job is done." He answered.

It a long walk to the carpark, due to going out the side of the building, but it seemed all too quickly that the radio transmitted again confirming the kill. Billy was dead. He was dead and it was your fault. It was always your fault. All the deaths you've caused over the years because you were foolish enough to think you could escape this man.

And now you lost the only person you thought could help you permanently escape. You should have just left instead of trying to leave that stupid letter; then Billy would still be alive

 You felt empty as you allowed your body to be pushed into the back of a limo.

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[classic-cherryberry]

For the *cough cough* self-harm reactions post (because, as someone who's gone through it before, it breaks my heart), assuming Red is the one who did it (of course, who else?... poor guy...) ‼️⭕️ Blue, ❗️♨️ Classic

This little drabble ran a bit long. Heh- w o o p s . That’s why it took way longer than both you and I expected- so sorry for the wait. In this story, Undertale Sans shall be referred to as Comic and Underfell Sans will be referred to as Red. I didn’t incorporate Blue’s piece here since this bit took long enough to write on its own.

Ugh… it is HOT today. Red sighs as he flops onto the couch, feeling sweat drip down his skull. Weather on the surface is so fuckin’ weird… he doubts he’ll ever get used to it. He sub-consciously wipes his forehead, feeling another heat pulse run through his covered arms. Must.. take… off… jacket…

He grumbles and slips his arms out of the cursed thick, black sleeves and carelessly tosses the black mass across the room, watching with slight amusement as it lands on the stairs and falls down a step. Serves the sun-soaker right… he groans as the heat stops pulsing through him, his now bare arms relieved from the pain of that winter jacket.

In the kitchen Comic is sitting on the counter, lazily swinging his legs a wooden spoon magically stirs a pitcher to his right. Of course, stirring it himself is just too much of a bother. He hears the set of groans from the other room and opens his eyes, his curiosity and slight concern sparked. “hey, everything going alright in there red? you good?”

“Yeah, I’m about as chill as I can get in this heat.” Comic snickers a bit at that, and can practically feel Red smile in return. “Izzat cold shit done yet? Been waitin’ for AGES…”

“it’s literally been three minutes, bud.”

“Time is an illusion.”

Comic rolls his eyes. “you need to stop watching so many cartoons, you dork.”

“Yeah, that certainly means a lot coming from you- it’s no secret you binge sit-coms.”

“well, at least neither of us have watched the same documentary about bees seven bajillion times in the last week.”

“Good point.”

Ah, nothing like a good old conversation ending in poking fun at Blue’s weird obsession over cheezy documentaries to pass the time. Comic glances over at the pitcher, which is now a nice steady shade of pink. Looks wonderful for this dreaded weather.

Summer is truly a hoodie-lover’s nightmare.

Comic takes the pitcher, letting his left eye flicker out, as it is not in use anymore, and brings his normal white pupils back into existence before pulling two tall glasses from the cupboard. “you gonna come over here, you lazy butt, or do i have to come serve ya?” Comic calls. He hears Red snicker.

“As if I’M the lazy butt here, Comic.”

“well, i’m not wrong.”

“Just come over here with the fucking gay sugar water, eh?”

“it is not ‘gay sugar water’, it is pink lemonade. i’ll have you know that pink is a very mascul-”

Comic was in the process of crossing from the kitchen to the other room, eyes half-lidded and the lemonade literally only not spilling all over the place due to sheer magic, when his little response got cut short.

Oh.

Fuck.

His gaze is immediately drawn to Red’s bare arms. He had never actually seen him without a hoodie or long-sleeved shirt, and now he thinks he knows why.

“…ine…. color.”

Red just rolls his eyes, oblivious. “Are ya just gonna stand there all day? Get the fuck over here, I’m DYING.” he complains, throwing an arm over his forehead dramatically to emphasize his point. His arm… Comic’s smile tightens a little as he resumes his walk over, deciding not to ask questions… yet.

He can’t bring himself to say anything witty, his soul feels like it’s being weighed down and his metaphorical throat is suddenly dry. He makes no comment as he sits down on the couch, pours Red’s glass, his mouth is shut as Red keeps snickering over his own stupid(ly hilarious) jokes.

It takes Red a few minutes to even realize Comic is being unusually quiet and still. He playfully rams into his shoulder, amusement glimmering in his red pupil. “Whazza mattah wit’chu? Heat melt your tongue off?”

Comic jolts a little, pink lemonade sloshing onto his lap and making his cheeks heat up with a light blue glow. “u-uh-”

Red snickers and leans his head against Comic’s shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “Ay, common- I ain’t stupid. Tell me what’s goin’ on in your weird mind.”

Is Red completely clueless? Does he even realize that his slitted arms are exposed? A chill runs down Comic’s spine, sweat beginning to gather on his brow. “oh, it’s just that it’s weird that you don’t have your hoodie on. i know you don’t take it off much.”

Red shrugs. “So? You’ve seen that shit before, didn’t bother you then. Just fucking spill the beans.” He reaches over with his empty hand to boop Comic on the nose when he sees i t. O h . His joking demeanor suddenly deflates, his arm freezes and his pupil disappears.

Comic tenses as well. “red-! fuck- don’t leave me buddy- come on, i ain’t mad-” oh no, oh no- Comic quickly places the pitcher on the floor, as well as the two glasses, and Red doesn’t even twitch as the cup is plucked from his hand. SHIT.

Comic gently cups Red’s face in his hands. “buddy, red- stay with me- listen ‘ere, i’m not mad at you for- f-for- t h a t- but i need you t’talk to me- please, red-” Red is being unresponsive. This isn’t good. Steeling himself, Coming takes a deep breath, trying to convince his voice to stop shaking.

“red. you’re checkin’ out again, bud. c’mon, wake up.” He uses the loudest, deepest voice he can without yelling in Red’s metaphorical ear. As he hopes- the volume shakes Red back to reality.

“Wha- huh? C-c-” Red jolts a little and gasps, his red pupil returning to his right eyesocket.

“yeah, bud. i’m right here, kay? nobody hurtcha. it’s only been about twenty seconds. you got nothin’ to freak out about. just… here.” Comic bends down and takes up Red’s cup of lemonade again, gently guiding Red’s still frozen fingers around the glass. “drink some of that. it’ll help ya ‘chill’ a bit.”

That definitely helps Red back to the present, his shoulders relax and he lets out a single, distant sounding, “Heh.” He then shakily brings the glass to his teeth, his eyes closing as the cold liquid splashes past the barrier under his skull. Comic breathes a sigh of relief, wiping a bit of the sweat off of his brow.

Once Red swallows Comic decides that he needs to press now. He just… has to know. “you uh… remember why you blanked out there?”

Red hesitates before nodding slowly, his expression darkening a bit. “Yeah.”

“you… think you can talk about it?”

Red looks uncertain. “I-I dunno, man- it- it ain’t somethin’ I enjoy thinkin’ about…”

Comic feels himself losing patience. Some small part of him fears that he was the one to cause Red to do this to himself. The rest of him just needs to know if he’s okay. “red, please… talk to me. i- i just wanna know what’s wrong. wazzit something i did? i mean- some of those look pretty recent- are blue and i doing something wrong?” Well… that all came spilling out quickly.

Red looks a bit shell-shocked. “Wh- Comic- n-no- it- it’s not you, it’s all just… me. It’s… stupid.” He looks away, trying to distance himself from the concerned body pressing up against him.

“…it’s not stupid, red. it’s hurting you. it can’t be stupid if it’s bringing you to such drastic measures.”

Red still looks uncomfortable, but he looks back for a brief moment, long enough for Comic to give him a gentle smile. Red sighs, suddenly itching to disappear into his embrace… though, at the same time, he wants to disappear into the oblivion so that all his lovers could forget about him. About this moment. He’s been dreading it for as long as he’s known Comic and Blue… he knew it was only a matter of time before they found out, and the anxiety of just WHEN had been crushing.

“I’ve just… been worried, I guess.”

Red goes quiet for a few moments, and Comic feels a mighty need to wrap his arms around his anxious doppleganger and envelope him in a hug that never ends. But… he doesn’t know how Red would react to the contact. He’ll… play it safe. As much as it kills him to do so.

“I… some part of me thinks that this is all fake, yanno…?”

Comic bites down on his metaphorical tongue. If he intervenes, Red may never open up about this again. He wants to tell Red that it isn’t- all of this is real and genuine, those thoughts are just old habits-

“I’m scared that yer just puttn’ up with me for the hell of it. Maybe to get some sick laugh from it. I… I’m scared that I’m not doing enough for the two of you. All I do is laze around while Blue works his ass off- and you’ve been takin’ care of the house… I-I’m useless- aren’t I- just a pathetic l-lump-”

Red’s voice begins to break and crack and Comic can’t hold himself back anymore.

Sleeved arms wrap around bare ones, and a smooth skull buries itself into the nook of the neck of the scarred one.

“that isn’t true. none of it. red, i am not acting. blue isn’t just putting up with you- i’ve seen how he looks at you. you aren’t useless. we both love you being here- our lives wouldn’t be complete without you tellin’ jokes, helpin’ out with the laundry… just… being here. you don’t mean less than blue or me in this relationship, red… you just can’t see yourself in the same light as blue and i do. there’s nothing wrong with that… you’re doing your best. that’s all blue and i care about. We’re just so, so happy you’re here, red…”

Red lets out a tiny sob, nearly transparent globs of wet magic pooling in his eyes and blurring his vision.

“That’s why it’s so stupid… I can’t bring myself to believe that.”

Comic can understand that. Sometimes he gets little spells in which everything feels fake as well… is that what Red feels all the time? That’s a lot of pressure on one guy.

“hey, it’s okay. i get that. just try and remind yourself that blue and i are here for you, okay? just… talk to us if it gets bad enough for you to… do that.”

Comic feels Red nod in response. Good… maybe he can prevent this happening in the future. A few quiet moments pass before Red finds his voice again. “Couldja get offa me now? Yer hot as hell…”

This only makes Comic grin. “i don’t need you to tell me that, hun.”

“Oh- come on- I didn’t mean it like that- yer makin’ me overheat here!” Red’s cheeks are flushed. Damnit- as much as he loves Comic nestled up to the crook of his neck like this, his body is considerably warm, especially since he hasn’t taken off his jacket. How he manages in this fucking summer heat is beyond Red. “but you’re so comfy, red…”

“Fuck you.”

Comic is glad that Red doesn’t feel too horrible after that conversation. He’s well enough to make a scene… Comic decides to take that as a good sign.

They’d be okay.