#like he's got some dripping from his socket so why not the gaps underneath his chin too

[deliriuxe]

workshopping a Nightmare design and yes he's even zestier now

[the-walking-memelords]

A2 - Chapter 6: Search for Safety

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Series is rated M

Word Count: 2528

Clementine finds herself reintroduced to the horrors of the world outside her secluded home.

Read it on Ao3!

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The smell of pine sap permeated the air as the fallen green needles crunched under her boots. The hardness of the ground below her was the only real indication that this was a paved road as leaves and branches masked the abandoned route. White clouds formed in front of their faces with every exhale as the chilly morning air clung to their skin. The clouds above their heads danced with the strong winds as they darkened with every passing hour.

I hope we find the others before that storm hits.

Eli followed along in silence, hands jammed into his pockets and seemingly locked inside his own thoughts. Clementine walked behind him, not willing to let him out of her sight just yet. She wanted to trust him, she really did, but caution was required with someone unknown and unpredictable. 

Clementine had decided that she would do what she could to help the boy, but if he tried to throw it back at her, she wouldn’t hesitate.

Louis led the way with AJ at his side. The two of them talked in hushed voices that couldn’t reach her ears, but AJ was smiling, so she wasn’t worried.

Eventually, the trees grew sparse as they approached a hint of urbanization in the seemingly endless forest. At least in the forest, you could pretend all was right with the world. Untouched wilderness remaining uninterrupted by humanity. But approaching something like this, shells of burnt-out cars overtaken by vines scattered and crashed along the cracked pavement. The faded yellow lines that once divided the lanes became ignored as this flurry of people rushed to get away from the first of the walkers. The cars sat rusted and charred, crushed together in nearly unrecognizably twisted clusters.

The four of them walked past the automotive graveyard, ignoring the unmoving jaws of the scorched skeletal figures slumped in the seats. Their remains fused to the very material. 

A small, high-pitched gurgle was barely audible from one of the cars. It was a minivan. Red paint chipped and melted in the front half leaving the back to be weathered down but more or less intact. Another wheeze came out of the heat-shattered window.

The four of them stopped as the shuffling of the agitated walker became more apparent. Louis and Clem looked at each other as they gauged the possible threat.

Louis stepped forward silently, reaching his bat out in front of him as he tapped the metal under the opening. 

A small, bony hand gripped the edge on the window frame, unconcerned about the glass shards digging into its skin. The face of a child appeared over the frame, half of her face burned to a crisp with an empty eye socket. The other side that still had some remnants of functional flesh was twisted into a dark scowl. Locks of thin and matted hair hung from a ponytail still tied in a bow with a stained yellow ribbon. The little girl lunged out of the window, the glass tearing into her yellow dress staining it with her nearly black blood and holding her in place.

Clementine stared at her with eyes filled with shock. 

Why did it have to be a kid?

Even now in her 20’s, seeing a child as one of them made her think of how close she came to being just like that. She would have been dead in a week if Lee had never found her. Dead, and turned. Without ever knowing what was happening around her. Just like this little girl. 

Maybe that’s why the kids always made her hesitate. Killing an adult walker was more dangerous and more difficult, but she would never stop for even a second. But a kid? Looking into their blank eyes triggered a flash of all of the kids she knew to appear with those eyes in place. 

Looking at this little girl’s white, unfocused eye made her think of every kid she watched die.

She could feel Louis’ sympathetic gaze on her. Clementine forced herself to find more interest in the mud on her boots than the dead child and shook her head. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Louis’ boots walk towards the van as the growls intensified. There was the shing of a knife and then silence. One final thump and it was all over. When Clementine looked back up it scene was as empty as it had been when they arrived, save for a piece of torn yellow fabric stuck to the broken glass.

She can rest now.

You didn’t know her. 

Just don’t think about it.

“Let’s keep moving.” Clem said plainly as she took the lead.

---

The rushing rapids of the river could be heard from quite a ways away even over the whistling of the winds. The road approaching the substantially large steel bridge became even more clustered with abandoned vehicles lost to nature. 

The fence separating the solid ground from the cliff’s edge was nearly non-existent at this point, leaving little to prevent someone from talking the steep and long plunge should they get too close.

The bridge seemed like it was the site of another panicked tragedy that was never resolved. The lone trailer of a transport truck laid perpendicular to the road, sitting on top cars it must have rolled onto.

“How do we get through?” AJ asked as they surveyed the trailer caught in both sides of the bridge’s supports. 

Clementine walked to the edge and peered around. Looking down, barely visible in the water was the cab of the truck.

We go this way and we’ll end up down there with the driver.

“If the others made it around this thing then we’ll find a way too.” Louis said confidently as he looked around for a way across.

“What if we don’t.” Eli spoke for the first time in hours. 

“What if we don’t find a way through? What does that mean?”

“It means they didn’t go this way and we have to look somewhere else.” Clementine responded, looking him dead in the eyes. She refused to consider the alternative. 

A burst of thunder echoed in the distance. A warning of what was to come.

“We won’t be able to track them well in the rain so let’s hurry up and look around.” She walked past both Eli and AJ.

Louis sat crouched next to one of the crushed cars, rubbing something between his fingertips.

“What did you find?” She asked as she crouched next to him. 

“Blood.” Louis’ fingers were covered in the sticky red substance.

“Living blood.”

Louis pointed ahead to the area underneath the trailer. It was a gap a few feet wide and tall that was a straight shot to the other side where it was boosted up by the car. A small yet sharp piece of metal stuck out from the side, covered in red that dripped to the road below.

“It’s still a little wet, so it’s not old. And it’s too light to be a walker’s blood.” Louis reasoned as the light from the other side of the bridge became a small beacon of hope as he rambled on.

“The spike is easy to see normally, but if someone was in a hurry, if multiple people tried to get through at once, or if someone couldn’t see very well, they could easily get cut.”

“You think this is where they got through?”

“I know it.”

From what she could see, the other side of the bridge was clear. A few dead walkers littered the road as well as…

Shit.

A mess of orange hair whipped around in the wind, the body it was attached to limp as the walkers.

No.

She’s too tall.

It’s not Ruby.

“Something happened over there.” Louis said.

“Let’s check it out.”

“I’ll go first.” A voice came from behind them. 

Eli stood with a determined look in his eyes, and a hunting knife in his hand.

“I’ll look for walkers or signs of people being through here.” His determination faltered and revealed a tone of desperation in his voice.

“I can help.”

What is he trying to prove?

“Fine” Clementine relented. “I’ll go second, then AJ, then Louis.” Clementine stumbled onto her hands and knees as she crawled under the metal trailer, keeping in mind the sharp debris around her. This thing’s been solid for over a decade, what are the odds it falls now?

Her thoughts were halted by the boy frozen in place in front of her. Clem was about to ask what the matter was when she heard something unexpected answer her.

A horse whinnied from somewhere near the end of the bridge accompanied by the muted arguing of two men.

“What’s the holdup?” Louis asked from the other side.

“Gravediggers.” Eli growled.

Clementine squeezed in beside Eli to get a better look. Two men wrapped in fang-marked cloaks pulled a horse-drawn cart. The first man made a beeline to the dead woman, holding the sides of her head in his hands and bowing his head.

“She gonna come back?” The second man asked as he grabbed one of the walkers and threw its body into the cart.

“No.” He replied.

“Somebody put a bullet in her head.”

“Let’s just get her home and get her in the pit.” The second man said as he came to console the other.

“Word is the boss had his eye on her. She’s better off this way.”

“That don’t make this right.” His voice broke as he scooped her up in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte.”

The man placed her into the back of the cart gently as the other threw in the last walker. Just as quickly as they arrived they pulled the horse alone a side trail and disappeared into the trees.

They waited several minutes under that trailer to make sure the men would not return. When they determined that they had truly left, the four of them crawled out to survey what remained of the battle scene.

“What the hell was that about?” Louis asked, breaking the silence.

“Scouts don’t usually go alone with just walkers. She probably had a partner that booked it and left her to die.” Eli explained with a dark expression.

“Gravediggers pick up the bodies. Human or Walker. You’re worth the same to Wolfgang.”

---

They walked for a few miles along the road as the trees faded into abandoned fields which opened up for the outlines of a few buildings to appear in the distance. Thunder continued to periodically boom across the sky, getting closer and closer as the clouds threatened to unleash the storm upon them.

A truck stop sat next to a few large retail buildings. As soon as their shoes hit the parking lot they realized they weren’t the only ones headed to the old Save-Lots.

A sizable herd had converged in the wide-open area. The sounds of nearly a hundred of the dead drowned out anything else as they wandered aimlessly.

So much for this place.

“I don’t think they’re here.” AJ said as he held his binoculars up to his eyes.

“Theres so many.”

“Do they look like they’re trying to get inside?” Clementine asked.

Who knows how long they’ve been here.

Could’ve been days, could’ve been hours.

We can’t give up on this place yet.

“The front doors are all boarded up. There’s a few standing close to it but they’re not hitting it.”

“Whether they’re here or not we gotta find a place to hide before those clouds break and we get drenched.” Louis pointed out. As if on cue, the sky lit up with a flash of lightning followed by the crash of thunder.

“No time to backtrack. We gotta go through them or around them.”

AJ handed Clementine the binoculars. Looking through, walkers surrounded nearly every building. Though thinly spread, there was no getting in anywhere without being seen.

“Looks like there’s less around that smaller building past the Save-Lots. If we have to hold up here tonight it should be easier to clear and less likely to be noticed.” Clementine pointed out.

“Now for the gross part.”

---

Slicing her machete down the abdomen of the fallen walker released a burst of foul air around them that made her stomach turn. Clementine bit her lip as she stuck her hands into the gorey mess, trying not to breathe as she stained her red shirt darker.

I liked this one, too.

Louis gagged and spit off to the side as he made sure AJ was good and covered. Eli didn’t hesitate to join in, smearing his face first before his clothes. He’d probably done this more often than any of them, being covered in guts to move walkers from place to place.

“Alright.” Louis said as they all donned their camouflage.

“This is where we’re starting. We all know where we’re going. Don’t clump together but don't spread too far apart. Got it?”

“See you on the other side.” Clementine squeezed Louis’ hand and nodded to the boys.

---

There was something surreal about walking through a herd. Being surrounded by the creatures that had hunted her for most of her life yet being utterly ignored. Walking as one of them, but the only one with a purpose in mind. The only one who knew where she was going. It made part of her wonder what drove them. What could they feel if anything at all? 

Was it a hunger? 

A rage?

What force made them walk one way while she walked the other?

Once the years numbed the horror into normality it sparked a morbid curiosity. Sadly, she knew she would never have the answers to any of her questions.

Where did they come from? And why? What made them tick? How did they manage to bring the entire world to its knees?

Now’s not the time for idle thoughts.

A cold droplet landed on the tip of her nose as Clementine gazed up at the foreboding dark clouds over her head. A second droplet hit her cheek and rolled down her face as more followed. The rain began to fall quickly as it soaked everything around her.

Clementine looked around her frantically for any quick way out of the herd, but everywhere she looked the dead swarmed. She wasn’t even sure what way she had came from anymore. Desperate but trying to maintain her composure, she pushed through the walkers wherever she could, trying not to attract too much attention while also getting the hell out of there.

There was nothing. No one. She resisted the urge to call out to the others. How far had she been separated? 

So much for sticking close…

She didn’t have time to worry no matter how much her heart wanted to. Her time was limited as the dribble slowly began to turn to a downpour. A red puddle formed underneath her as her camouflage began to wash away. 

She bit her lip and forced her breath to remain steady.

They’ll notice me soon.

Find a way out, Clementine.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the abrupt grip of a hand on her shoulder.

[moonshotsandstarsocks]

I Can Make You a Man

When you’re thirsty for revenge, but also thirsty for that D

A story inspired by @mozg-art and their wonderful Rocky Horror Picture Show Roadrat comic! You can see it here 

Small warning, there are some descriptions of blood and gore in this, so just be mindful if that’s not your thing. And as always, let me know what you think!

The good doctor wasn’t used to entertaining guests. Engrossed day in and day out in his work there was hardly such a time for the luxury of company, so most usually he simply chattered to his robots whenever the urge for conversation struck him.

Fixing loose wiring, adding on new weaponry, Junkenstein would talk at his precious machines as if they had a will of their own and could understand him. A one sided banter that would last for hours and only ended when the doctor got pulled away to work on something else.

Rarely the imagined conversations took a turn for the worst. Days where Junkenstein would return from the village and the voices he often imagined would turn cruel and mocking, echoing the disgusted sentiment the king shared. Ceaseless, they would rattle around in his brain and mix together into a deafening static until Junkenstein felt like his brilliant brain would melt away into nothing.

Maddened by it all he knew that there was only one way to get them to stop: by throwing them carelessly into a pile out in his courtyard and letting his rip-tire loose on the whole lot of them. The Zomnics were in need of upgrades anyway, scrapping them was helping him skip the annoying intricacies of adding on new patches. And whatever parts of his mood that wasn’t improved by the raining robotic body parts was cheered up by the bottles of chemicals he would toss into the fires to create different colors. The green flames brought on by the boric acid were his favorite.

So maybe Dr. Junkenstein wasn’t used to guests. Maybe. But it was hardly a bad thing because it brought him to his greatest project yet: the creation of life. It was all very under lock and key, the last thing the doctor needed was another angry hoard of villagers at his castle doors once again. Their screams of fear grew stale after the first two or three times he sicked his Zomnics at them.

That’s why, on a cloudy night with only the full moon to illuminate the land below, Doctor Junkenstein was surprised to see two uninvited guests in his lab. Two guests not from anywhere on Earth. They were ethereal, but not in any way that angels were.

The witch had a commanding presence both in the way she held herself and the sheer aura emanating off of her. A beautiful face couldn’t hide the evil in her eyes no matter how blue they could be. The staff gripped tight in her hand was radiating a pulsing yellow light at the top, and with the tome strapped to her hip it made Junkrat’s fingers itch to take them both and learn her secrets. Surely he could put them to better use than her.

But perhaps he wasn’t the first to think so, because the thing next to her could only be described as some type of underworld bodyguard. Leather on top of leather with a popped collar, his orange and black scheme matched the witch’s and covered him head to toe. The only exception was his head

The witch had a subtle malice to her, but her bodyguard was the exact opposite. Residing above his shoulders (with no connection by a neck) was a round pumpkin with a cruel face jaggedly cut out to replace its head. The markings stretched and shrunk with the same elasticity of skin, and when his head moved it revealed nothing but the same ominous yellow light glowing from within his body.

Oh, they were just practically begging the doctor to cut them open and see what they’re made of. However, when they explained themselves and their desire to see his creation, Junkenstein was ecstatic and quickly forgot his plans of dissection.

“Well he’s not a creation per say.” Junkenstein said, making a noncommittal, back and forth gesture with his hand. “Creation implies makin’ somethin’ from nothin’. It’s a creation in the sense that I had to draw up the schematics, write the equations for the right amount of transfusions, shit like that. But everythin’ else is organic and recycled from fresh graves, so it’s less of an artistic creation and more a scientific invention. Though I would like to say my design is nothin’ short of artistic gen-”

“You’re getting off topic, doctor.” The witch’s voice dripped with annoyance, betraying the impassive expression she had on her face. The pumpkin, however, was more expressive than she was, openly scowling at Junkenstein.

The two supernatural entities watched Dr. Junkenstein pace about his lab, his back now turned to them as he walked over to a large slab with a mass on top obscured by a large blanket. In his hurry to get there the doctor’s uneven gait became over exaggerated and made him look like he was bobbing up and down while walking on a flat surface.

Undeterred, the doctor laughed before replying to the witch. “Of course, of course. Trust me, I’m jus’ as excited to get to the main event. So,” He rounded the table, facing the witch and her servant. “Shall I show you my latest obsession?”

Before either could answer the doctor took hold of the blanket and with a flourish it flew off the table to reveal the body underneath.

Had the witch been mortal, it might have taken her breath away.

Laying on the table was not any man, but a monstrosity. Death had stained the skin a sickly green, different areas being different shades because the creature was so large in mass that it needed the skin of multiple bodies simply to cover it all. Gaps between the stitches To add to the inhuman nature of the thing, it appeared that the doctor had taken the liberty of adding a mask made of pigskin complete with a snout to obscure the monster’s face.

Slowly, the witch approached it to get a closer look. Her eyes were drawn first to the conducting rods sticking out in various places on the creature’s body. The shoulders, feet, even the large screws that had been drilled into its jawbone were a testament to the doctor’s initial dabbling in electric shocks to try and reanimate the bastardized corpse. The Witch of the Wilds had laughed at his primitive efforts from afar, but now up close she could fully appreciate how far the doctor had come.

Being so close also allowed her to view some of the... aesthetic choices the doctor made with his design. The clothes were custom made, they had to be, and while the stitching was good it was more on the gothic side with the leather jacket and spikes. That wasn’t even mentioning the ‘D3AD’ belt buckle or the ‘TERROR’ tattooed poorly across the monster’s large gut. It seemed that her servant took notice of it as well, his clawed finger gently scraping along the word.

Though his eyes were only empty sockets of a carved pumpkin, the way the light shifted within it indicated that he was looking at Junkenstein.  “A little tacky, don’t you think?” He asked.

With a loud gasp, Junkenstein threw himself on top of his creation defensively, swatting her servant’s hand away. “”Fuck off! I didn’t make him for you!”

“Then what did you make it for, doctor?” The Witch of the Wilds asked, stifling a giggle over the petty squabble between the two.

“Well,” Junkenstein stood up, letting his hands drag slowly along the creature’s stomach as he did so. “He’ll have a great many purposes I assure you. Now of course there’s the more obvious.”

Eyes gleaming behind his goggles, Junkenstein was looking down yet a thousand miles away as his vision came to him. He could picture it all as clearly as he could the very first time he put his plans into motion for making his monster. “What he might lack in brains, he will more than make up for in brawn. An’ he’s gonna use all that brawn to go straight down to the village an’ slaughter everythin’ in his wake ‘til he’s right at the doors of the castle. Oh they’ll all scream, probably beg like the fuckin’ cowards they’ve always been. But he won’t listen, an’ the last moments of their insignificant lives will be used to finally appreciate my genius!”

The lab fell away, the dark stone and lights melting and morphing into the streets of the town. Dr. Junkenstein could see through the eyes of his monster as it tore its way through the crowds. Strong hands extending outward from a behemoth body, strong enough to lift the townsfolk by their heads with just one hand and able to crack their skulls open like eggs just as easy. Blood and entrails painting the cobblestone streets red. The people could try and fight back, but without the help of the Zomnics they took for granted they stood no chance.

Of course there would be weaklings within them, the lambs among the sheep, who would try to run or hide. A twisted mind ever moving, the doctor tweaked his imagination to accommodate the problem. Where rippling muscles could not reach, a gun could. It would need to be large for his monster, something to slow down its prey for the eventual slaughter. Not enough to outright kill, but something to make them suffer. To bleed and cripple, prolonging the inevitable. Or perhaps he could fashion something simpler for his dimwitted creation; something to draw them in close. Maybe he could make both.

God, he was practically salivating at the imagined carnage. For a moment his words trailed off at his tongue, savoring their taste rather than expunging them from his mind. They tasted like copper, the bitterness of ale, and the decadent sweetness of revenge. Junkenstein licked his lips as he finally continued. “An’ then when the lord comes out from hidin’ he’ll get to admire my monster’s good work jus’ long enough before his head gets ripped off an’ I get to drop a big one right down his throat.”

Junkenstein’s entire body shook with his manic laughter, throwing his head back in unrestrained glee. In his lab, the laughter bounced off the cold stone walls until his cackle reverberated enough to ring in his ears.

The two beings shared looks with one another. Doctor Junkenstein’s bloodlust was something to admire, certainly outside the normal threshold of most mortals. It was what had drawn them to him in the first place; extreme intellect mixed with a chaotic and unstable personality. Unpredictable on his own, but with the right tools easily manipulated.

The Witch of the Wilds had been watching mankind for centuries, reveling in their tiny squabbles and even adding to the chaos when she saw fit, but her frivolous tendencies were backed with restraint that came from a woman destined to watch the world slowly pass by until time itself disintegrated to ash at her feet. She was smart, careful, and when it was time to give away her gifts she didn’t like to leave any uncertainty or loose ends.

Arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow the witch asked, “What are you planning to do once it’s all over? Once you’ve had your destruction.”

Idle hands now found themselves on the monster’s chest, gloved fingers brushing through the course hair that laid on top of it. Upon hearing the witch’s question Junkenstein’s face nearly split in half with a large grin.

“Well, strength in itself is all find an’ dandy. Keeps ya from gettin’ the sand kicked in your face. But there’s something about a deltoid, and a bicep.” Junkenstein fell prone against his creation again, eyes and hands following along to the according muscle as he spoke. They paused on its body as his eyes tilted down.

“A uh,” He paused himself to giggle, unable to bite back the grin even as his crooked teeth sunk into his bottom lip. “And a tricep. It just makes me wanna shake!” He wiggled his body to the point of indecency, but the creature under him barely shifted. “Makes me wanna laugh right at the lord’s ass-hair covered face!”

“That’s… fine.” The witch replied slowly, unable to think of the right words as she caught on to the doctor’s intentions. Her servant had as well, his posture rigid next to her and his arms crossed tight over his chest. He was wise to stay silent.

Raising her hand aloft to the sky, the witch rose from the ground. Her wings ignited and expanded out, holding her effortlessly in place as she called upon her magic in her native tongue, a language lost to time and incomprehensible to those who didn’t already know it. Light enveloped her until it focused itself into a beacon on her hand, manifesting a crystal.

Jaw going slack, Junkenstein slipped off of his monster to witness the magic before him. It had an otherwordly pull on him, beckoning him closer. The light didn’t even seem natural, resplendent and powerful. Smaller circles of light twirled aimlessly within the beam for a few moments until, like a swarm of fireflies, the all floated up together and conglomerated into a singular bright mass. In a flash, light became a glowing green crystal hovering above the witch’s palm. Junkenstein’s fingers itched to touch it. It looked like it would burn.

Lowering herself to the ground with grace, her feet barely made a sound as they reconnected to the floor. Not a hair out of place or a breath too strained, she held out the crystal to Dr. Junkenstein.

“Behold, good doctor.” She said, the crystal’s green light reflecting against her devilish eyes “I offer that which you seek. The Spark of Life. I will give this to you, and you may use it to finish your work. I want only one thing in return. A day will come when I will call on you for a favor.”

“And no matter what it is,” Her servant was well versed in her deals, and his intimidation often helped seal the pact. “You will honor it.”

The crystal held no discernable weight. If not for the tangible feeling of it in his hands, the doctor would not have known it was there at all. Set deep within the center was a light trapped inside, beating rhythmically. A heartbeat. The choice was simple.

Tearing his eyes away, he cast them upon his monster. No more sleepless nights would he have, futile in his attempts to see his creation breathe and walk. Now, it was all literally within his grasp.

“Jus’ ya wait, baby.” He murmured. The pulse in his hands quickened, matching the beat in his own chest. “I’m gonna make ya a man.”

[marvelhead17]

Miracle (Original Female Character x Cable Fic)

Chapter 6

Summary: “How did you fix it?” he asked. “Ask Ellen the Teenage Warhead,” Wade shrugged as he stood up, “As for baby Hitler he ended up having a diaper change, funny story I was actually going to call Cable since he was so keen on killing Russel, I thought this would be like taking candy from a baby, if that means replacing it with a bullet that is,”

  Warnings to cover the whole fic: Graphic depictions of violence, use of weapons, mild to strong language, mentions of rape, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, referenced torture and psychological abuse/manipulation, nightmares and night terrors, sexual humour, sexual content.

A/N: Chapter was cut into two parts for easier reading, so look out for Chapter 7!

Word Count: 1.5k

It took a week or so for the pair to settle into their new environment, Nathan eased in faster than Hayden did, after all he had lived in an apartment before so he was used to living around other people.

Hayden on the other hand was growing twitchy and appeared to be exhausted, dark rings formed under her eyes, and whenever Wade would ask if she was okay she would snap at him. Her skin would often glow the familiar violet as she sat still on the couch in the rec room, with earphones in listening to music, talking to nobody unless they addressed her first.

    The water rushed down around her from every angle, trapped in a tank that was quickly filling with water, the air was getting thinner and thinner by the minute.

“Let me out please!” she begged and tried to bang on the glass with her fists, she could feel herself slipping under as she was losing the energy to keep herself afloat to breathe.

“Please!” she gasped for one last breath before she slipped under and everything went black.

                              Hayden gasped as she sat up in her bed, sweat dripping down her forehead, yet another nightmare. Unsettled for umpteenth night in a row she grabbed her phone with earphones plugged in and headed to the rec room so that she could feel less trapped.

She made her way down the stairs quietly before reaching the couch and crossing her arms over her legs and rocking slowly back and forth, tears began streaming down her cheeks as she tried to breathe to remain calm.

    Nathan took in a deep breath before he leaned over her, his lips a mere inch away from hers, they touched and he found that they were soft. Ridiculously soft, if it weren’t for the current situation he felt like he would linger for some time, he forced the air out of his lungs and into her mouth.

She was unresponsive, but it was rare that the first attempt would give results immediately; he tried again, and again, and again.

She remained still. He moved his head back and looked over her features, her eyes were glassed over but the spark was gone, her skin was ice cold underneath his hands.

“C’mon kid,” he leaned over and pressed his lips onto hers and breathed air into her before compressing her chest once again.

He stood back and ran his hand through his hair, if he had just tried harder-

If he had just stayed by her side-

He stared at her with hot tears that were fighting to fall from his eyes, her eyes open and unblinking as they looked to the ceiling, Hayden was lifeless and he recalled the last words he had said to her, ‘Fine, be a stubborn bitch then!’

He collapsed into a nearby chair and put his face in his hands, the tears flooded out.

  He breathed heavily as he shook his head back to reality, sitting up before standing up and then washing his face from sweat and hot tears that had rolled out in his sleep; he dried his face with a towel before looking hard at himself in the mirror.

“What the hell is going on with you Summers?” he asked himself.

He walked back to the bed uncertain if he would be able to fall asleep after that nightmare again, he sat down on the bed letting a big sigh out and rubbed his face with his hands, he closed his eyes but a soft sound caught his attention and he listened carefully.

It’s one in the morning who else could be up? He wondered as he heard bare footsteps tread passed his door and down the stairs. Curiosity got the better of him and he left his room to follow the mysterious sound.

    He rounded the wall of the stairs and noticed a glowing light in the rec room immediately, a mix of white and dim violet, he recognised the small figure that was sobbing on the couch and felt his heart drop a little though admittedly it was mixed with relief.

Instincts kicked in as he hurried to sit himself next to her, his arms wrapped around her shoulders and she nearly screamed at the sudden touch, when she realised who it was she relaxed and sniffled, removing the earphones before preparing to stand up and leave.

“Hey,” he gently grabbed her wrist and she sat back down again. “C’mere, bring it in.” he grumbled.

Slowly, she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest, her face was wet as it pressed against his hot shirt, his human hand ran through her hair while the metal one rubbed her back soothingly which made her body relax.

“Wanna talk?” he whispered and she shook her head. “Alright, that’s fine too. Just take your time.”

  After a long time had passed he began to wonder if she had fallen asleep, he glanced down at her and saw how relaxed and soft her usually angry demeanour was in her sleeping state, he smiled slightly before he scooped her up and walked upstairs.

He lowered her slowly onto the bed so as not to wake her or place her down awkwardly, and then he tucked her in carefully and looked at his handiwork, still got it.

He retrieved the teddy bear that belonged to his daughter Hope and placed it under the cover with her and paused as she suddenly began to move, her arms wrapped around the bear as she turned in her sleep, he walked out the room and turned to look at her one more time.

“Sweet dreams kid, Hope will keep you company tonight,” he whispered in his gruff voice.

                                  She woke in the morning feeling well rested for the first time in two weeks, she frowned at the fuzzy soft warmth that she had unknowingly cuddled close to herself, when she could see clearly she realised it was Nathan’s daughter’s teddy bear.

­Oh God I must have fallen asleep in his arms, embarrassing much?

She sat up and eyed the bear curiously, so this is what normal children have?

A soft racking on her door distracted her thoughts, it began to open slowly, and Nathan’s voice spoke through the gap.

“Okay to come in?”

“Yeah,”

“How you holdin’ up kid?” he asked as he sat on the foot of the bed.

“I was holdin’ up, just fine until you called me kid, I’m twenty-eight not ten,”

“Fine, but you’re a terrible liar Hades,”

“Sue me, I just woke up,”

“Been that long since you had decent sleep huh?”

She sighed, “Yeah, thanks for uh- last night.”

  “Last night! What happened last night?” a dramatic gasp came from Wade who was now standing in the doorway, “Did you two fuck last night?”

“Jesus.” They both said, they looked at each other and a small smirk appeared on Nathan’s face as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

“You two fucked with Jesus?” Wade looked even more shocked, “Why didn’t you call me? We could have made it a party,”

“Because out of all the people you’re the most sinful shithead in the world Wade, Jesus would burn just from your presence,” Hayden responded.

“Ooh baby’s got some fire in her,” Wade smiled making Nathan roll his eyes and moved further to the edge of the bed as Wade decided to jump onto it in-between the two of them.

“Watch it,” Cable growled and the soft expression and concern he had moments ago vanished.

                               As if Nathan hadn’t threatened him Wade had wrapped his arms around both of their necks and hugged them close to his head, they both squirmed uncomfortably as their faces squished against his own, Wade took no notice.

“Look at my two amigos getting along so well huh!” he laughed, “We make a great threesome, speaking of, wouldn’t it be fun to-”

They each escaped from his hold and grabbed his arms, before twisting them and hearing an audible popping sound from both sockets, Wade yelled.

“Ooh yeah Mommy and Daddy know just how Baby likes it-” They both dropped his arms and gave him a disgusted look. “What, just me?” He looks down at his limp arms and practically squealed, “It’s too early in the fucking morning to deal with this bullshit!” he stood up.

“No, it’s too early in the morning to deal with your antics Wade,” she corrected.

“I was thinking the same thing,”

“How the fuck am I supposed to have my morning masturbation now?” Wade whined as he swung his arms around playfully. “Unless, Cable-”

“Fuck no.”

“Wade?” she stood up on her bed and approached him.

  “We have a volunteer!” he cheered.

“Eww no, get out, that’s what I wanted to say,” she started pushing him out the door; once he was out she closed the door.

“He’s your brother?”

“Honorary brother, a decision I’m regretting every day,” she sighed but smiled. “I love him like a brother but sometimes his crap is just, too much.”

“How long have you known him for?”

“At least 6 years now,”

“And you still hang around him?”

“He- he helped me let’s say, and he’s the only friend I’ve managed to make since, I escaped,”

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>> Chapter 7 <<