#or was he holding the spare freddy suit and sobbing

[gamequeenanya]

Keep in mind, Michael Afton didn't have a real support system.

His father didn't pay attention to him unless he was manipulating him to do things (Sister Location). His teenage friends were bullies and implied to have left him after The Bite. The people on the street who waved to him probably only wanted free pizza coupons from him.

So when Michael hears someone on the phone actually telling him he's doing great? That he's proud of him ? And doesn't expect anything in return (except possibly finding his body so his daughter knows what happened)? And all while Michael is fighting for his life against everything else that wants him dead??

That's Michael's brother in arms.

When Michael finds his body, one week later, would he hesitate to embrace him?

Is that why he gets fired for odor?

[byorder-fanfic]

Finn’s Lost Loves

Summary: Finn’s lost more than anyone else knew because of the war, and every stupid thing his family have done afterwards to keep themselves in charge.

Word count: 2019

Warnings: Mentions war and blood, talks about eating disorder, self harm and self-esteem, and homophobia (only a little bit, period accurate), a lot of toxic masculinity 

Author’s note: This is a lot of angst with little bits of fluff and a sad ending. Sorry. It’s basically an overview of Finn’s character, backstory and his relationships with the family that we’ve never gotten to see! It’s based off a piece of prose in my drafts, so if you guys like this, I might post that as well. Hope you enjoy, and please comment, I love hearing your opinions and any constructive criticism you might have xx

Finn loved books. Once upon a time, he really did. He loved the way Tommy did the voices, and Arthur made those wild motions with his hands, and John could always make him laugh as he told him about that thing that happened in the pub last week. He loved how Ada and Polly would tuck him up in bed, place a kiss on his temple and read the letters from the boys. Then they came back, and he didn’t need to read letters. Or books. Or anything really. Soon, he didn’t even go to school. He just wanted to be with his brothers. Now they tell him to piss off more than they beg him to stay. Tommy and Polly scold him for not being able to read off the betting boards, and John makes everyone else laugh when he holds a big volume under Finn’s nose, so that everyone knew that Finn was still illiterate. Finn hates books.

Finn loved Church. He didn’t need Polly to drag him by the heels as he sobbed under the Virgin Mary’s stare like his brothers when he hopped, skipped and a jumped all his way down the road. He always sat by Isaiah, the two boys out-screaming each other in the hymns and seeing who Polly would scold first. He wore the crucifix everyday, and treated his rosary with all the sacred carefulness a six year old could manage. He loved the psalms and Jeremiah’s voice ringing through the streets and the way everyone was always together (even Charlie) on Sunday. Then he had to light candles, praying for his brothers’ safety that was only answered with their damnation as they dragged back blood and French mud into Watery Lane. Now he cries through the paper thin pages of a Bible and his only prayers are that the boys never see his tears. What did he have to cry about after all? He was never a soldier, but he should learn to be a man. Finn hates Church.

Finn loved healing. Ada dragged him along to her nursing classes and soon his only reason to come to Church was to learn how to tie bandages and fix up cuts and bruises. No one noticed his long absences- they either assumed he went to school still, or they were far too busy with the race tracks to care for the whereabouts of their youngest brother. But then he'd slipped up, and he'd never seen his brothers laugh so hard when he proudly told Polly he was going to be a nurse one day. Even his aunt and sister, usually the ones on his side, had to purse their lips together as Arthur roared out: "Hear that, Tom? We got ourselves a Nurse Shelby here! Want a dress and hat to go with it?" He told them all to fuck off and stamped out, but he didn't understand what he said that was so funny. When he asked Isaiah, who had just turned fourteen and starting to see Finn less and less, he just said that being a nurse was a woman's job. He didn't like being laughed at for being a girl, but he didn't know why. He still hoarded textbooks about anatomy and the like under his bed, tracing over the detailed pictures with his skeleton finger as he wished. And wished. And wished. And almost prayed that he could read the little ink words. When he found Arthur with another red line on his neck, he offered him some medicine to cure his big brother's blues, thinking just a bit of Tokyo would keep his brother here with him. No one asked why Finn was sad. Oh well, at least he could protect his brothers now. Finn hates healing. Finn loved food. Always the big eater in the Shelby household, he managed to always have a full stomach despite the poverty that reigned. He was a stickler for sweets, though, and as soon as he mastered the art of sneaking rings and wallets from unsuspecting strangers, he soon graduated to thieving lollipops and boiled sweets and even some toffees that he proudly deposited into his aunt's hand with a toothy grin. But the boys would look into his empty plate and his skinny frame and tell him he'd better watch out, soon he might actually have a shape under those bulky clothes. They always laughed, and he felt himself completely embarrassed at the dinner table. He dumped more sugar than milk into his tea and stole chips when they went to the seaside. He'd always offer to share, wanting to provide for them for once, but they'd tell him he was the one who needed it. He sees his ribs and the little vertebrae of his spine and wonders why can't he just be strong like his brothers. Even though he despises it, he picks up boxing to fill out his form. Maybe training with Isaiah was an extra benefit, but the older boy had long since talked to Finn on the regular, and made a point to laugh at him when he fell onto the floor. So, Finn graduated from second helpings of lunch and too-sweet tea to the sour delights of whiskey and cigarettes. Just like his brothers. Finn hates food. Finn loves his family. He loves Polly, the mother he never had, and will never feel like he does enough to repay her for his entire childhood. Then Michael came back, and soon there wasn't any chore lists on the downstairs table for someone to read out for him, or little check ups throughout the day as she makes sure he's okay. That was when he realised exactly why Polly raised him in her empty arms. He loves Arthur: his eldest brother, who used to lift him up on his shoulders and teach him to draw. Finn still has faded old pictures of galloping stallions (signed in block letters: A.W.S) slipped between the filled out pages of the sketchbooks he hides in his wardrobe. Then Arthur came back, with what everyone calls Flanders Blues, but no one explains, and Finn feels like he's losing his brother everyday when he comes back smelling like a brewery with blood on his fists. Finn loves Tommy. A father figure to him, the kind of man he wants to be when he grows up. But then Greta died and Tommy went to war, and the man who took him horse riding every weekend was gone, and this Tommy was colder. Finn loves John as the best friend he's ever had, always laughing together, giving sometimes useful advice and finding days to just spend time with each other. Despite John's bazillion kids, widowerhood, and then his new wife, he's always had time to spare for his little brother. John was the one who told him what bisexual was when he found Finn sobbing in his room, he was the one that took him to the doctor when he passed out from malnutrition, and he's the one that made him swear to never use razor blades on himself again. Finn loves Ada. He sees why Freddie calls her an angel, and used to love it when she pretended to take Finn to the library when in fact they were both slipping away to a Communist meeting, which would usually end up in Ada and Freddie slipping away and leaving Finn in the trusted supervision of leftist radicals that he happily chatted away to. Ada always took care of him, making sure he was never involved in the business (on either side) and telling him that being a soldier is a life sentence, not an honour. He lives because Ada keeps him safe and sane. Then Ada leaves. Finn hates the Shelby name that everyone screams at him like a condemnation, that invites slurs and hatred that only he gets because he doesn't look like a proper Shelby man. Finn hates his family. Finn loved Isaiah. A childhood crush that brought butterflies to his stomach and blushes to his freckled face. He sketched the boy's face so many times, he knew it by memory. They held hands when they were chased down the streets, laughing and sprinting as their spoils stayed securely in their pockets. But Isaiah was older than him. Soon after adolescence hit the Jesus boy and Peaky Blinders offered him a role, without the constant of Church, the two greatest of friends became almost strangers to one another. But Finn still loved him. He never told anyone, of course. He knew he wasn't a real homosexual, because he most certainly did enjoy holding hands and kissing the cheeks of girls his age (poor boy was flustered to ever do more!) but his heart still belonged to the preacher's boy. With more faithful women in the family than ever before, Finn knew he would be crucified if he ever told anyone. John was the only one who knew, and that was based on the fact he paid more attention to his brother than anyone else combined. He said he should just go for it, but Finn knew Isaiah couldn't be like him. And even if Jeremiah was always the kindest man that Finn ever met, he still didn't trust that the cross on his neck wouldn't shame him or laugh at him for the fact he was completely enamoured with his son. Then Finn got drunk, and when he woke up, his entire family knew exactly how he felt and Isaiah wouldn't look at him in the eye. He ran away to the stables, crying on Uncle Charlie's shoulder who told it would be alright. He made sure to keep an eye on Finn ever since, keeping an eye on his wrists and fists. The incident was soon forgot by everyone but him. Finn couldn't find it in him to hate Isaiah, but he knew he didn't love him any more. Finn has never loved Michael. He thought he could, at first, when he saw the tweed suit and a face more innocent than his. But then Tommy promoted him almost on the spot, and Finn had never at once felt so much rage bubble inside him. Everything he has done for his brothers, every passion he sacrificed, every humiliation he shouldered, just so they could see him as an equal. But no, there are only three Shelby brothers as far as anyone else is concerned, and Finn carries on as errand boy. He ignores all Ada's good advice, and swear that he will make his brothers proud of him one day. So, he puts on the thorn crown of a Peaky cap and wears the waistcoat and wool coat of his brother's likeness, and parades about Small Heath like he actually was apart of the makeshift royal family. Then Finn found Michael and Isaiah kissing in the alleyway. Even though Finn had made a point to announce that his brothers had started giving him more work, Isaiah still fucked off to the pub with Michael every night, devoting his time and attention to only him, and Finn couldn't understand why. Now he did. If Finn had been violent like Arthur, he certainly wouldn't have thought twice about taking the cup on his curls and cutting the smirk off of his cousin. He had stolen his brothers' respect, his surrogate mother's attention, his place in the business, the affections of the one boy Finn had ever loved. He had stolen Finn's everything, and Finn hated him. They both froze and stuttered. Excuses about just being friends, just experimenting, but he saw the way they held each others shaking hands just as he and Isaiah used to hold onto each other as they raced through the streets. "I'm glad you're together." He shocked them both with a forced smile. "You both deserve to be happy." The two were kinder to him after that, almost back to the old friendship he had missed, and Finn knew he didn't hate Michael. Or Isaiah. Or any of his family, really. No, Finn hated himself.

[jaysworlds]

i wrote a mermay fic :)

i wrote a fic! for mermay! because i love mermaids!

it’s freddie/alexei, who are my ocs who i adore but you don’t actually need to know anything about them to read it (course if you read it and then WANT to know more my ask box is always open :)

Word count: 6365

Content Warnings:

-hallucinations

-near death experience

-a lot of ocean shenanigans

-like one mention of a dead body

Alexei loves the sea, always has. It’s always been a refuge when everything gets too much. He knows it could kill him, but he’s never felt safer than when he’s sitting underwater, getting washed back and forth by the waves.

It kind of makes sense that he goes into diving. He doesn’t think he’d survive a job in an office for hours every day, unable to get outside. He hates being trapped.

He loves diving. It suits him perfectly, really, getting to spend every spare moment in the water.

He doesn’t spend a lot of time with his co-workers outside of work, though he should. It’s always safer to have a diving buddy, he just … like diving alone, if he has the option.

It’s not the safest, but he accepted long ago that it probably wouldn’t be old age that killed him, and drowning is better than the alternatives.

They say it’s rather pleasant.

He’s good at it, anyway. All the money he can spare goes into keeping his gear in good condition, and he’s not in the habit of being reckless.

But it’s not skill that saves you, down there. It’s luck, and everyone’s luck runs out eventually.

Alexei’s runs out on a cold weekend at the beginning of October. The diving season is over, and so he’s not working, just diving for fun, and he’s alone.

There’s a ship (or what’s left of it) about a hundred and eighty-five feet below the surface. He’s been there before, and he loves it, just drifting through the empty corridors. It’s a little deeper than the recommended dive limit of a hundred and thirty feet, but he’s done much deeper dives, and he doesn’t worry too much.

It’s cold as he’s driving down the beach, sky overcast, but the sea is perfectly calm. It’s a good day for diving.

The beach is almost empty. It’s not surprising, on a day this cold, but it’s nice not to have to manoeuvre his car past a thousand people who’ve parked on the ramp clearly marked access required at all hours – do not obstruct.

There are only a couple of other people on the pier, and they wave to him as he parks and starts unloading his things. He knows everyone who works here, and everyone who dives regularly, and they know him.

He’s got a boat, a tiny thing that just about fits him and his gear, and he loads it up, humming to himself. The wind picks up a little, blowing his hair into his eyes, and he pauses for a moment to tie it back, looking out at the grey sea. He likes days like this.

There aren’t many other ships about. Not many people still dive at this time of year, and those that do mostly stick to shallower waters.

He leaves a slip of paper with where he’s going scribbled on it, just as good practice, and then heads out onto the sea, the wind playing with the strands of hair too short to make it into his ponytail.

The wreck isn’t far, but it’s too deep to see and so he has to rely on his instruments to tell him when he’s made it.

His instruments aren’t the best, but they do the job, and his life doesn’t depend on them working.

It’s about forty minutes from the docks, he knows that, and the time is about right when the GPS tells him he’s arrived. The boat bobs gently as he cuts the engine and starts collecting together his gear.

The sea is grey and opaque, and he stares down into it for a moment. Some days it’s almost clear enough to see down to the wreck, but not today. Today he can see barely ten feet.

It’s alright, though. He doesn’t need to see.

It starts raining as he’s pulling on his gear, and he shoves the bag with his dry clothes under a seat. The rain isn’t heavy, just pattering quietly on the surface of the sea, and for a moment he stops to listen. It’s comforting.

He didn’t come all the way out here to listen to the rain, though. He checks his gear twice, just to be sure, and then tips back off the edge of the boat.

The first few seconds of being underwater are always his favourite. The cool water pressing in around him makes him feel safe.

His weights start pulling him down immediately, towards the wreck nearly two hundred feet below him, and it’s not long before the surface is completely out of sight and he’s surrounded by dark water on all sides.

He has a flashlight, but it’s not much use here. He could see a few more fish, maybe, but the fish come up to him anyway, curious. They’re only small, nothing big around here, and they scatter when he reaches towards them. He laughs softly, waving his hand back and forth and watching them flee.

He pauses to check his equipment at fifty feet and a hundred feet, but everything’s fine. Better than fine, really, though he fumbles with pressure gauge and nearly drops it. It’s fine, though, everything’s attached to him, so he couldn’t lose it anyway.

He doesn’t bother at a hundred and fifty feet. He’s nearly there and everything’s going so well that he doesn’t think he even needs to.

It’s not long before the wreck is in sight, a huge, hulking shadow looming out of the darkness. He watches it get bigger until he’s standing on the deck, looking around at the rusted metal jutting out of the dark. He’s been here before, several times, but looking around at the ship he can’t remember the route he used to get in. The first door he tries is rusted shut and won’t budge, as is the second, so he drifts over the edge of the ship, looking for a hole big enough to get in.

There is one, the edges sharp and ragged, and he drifts through it and into the belly of the ship.

It’s a big place, the metal walls covered in algae, and small fish dart out of his way if he disturbs anything.

It’s still too murky to see far, and after a few minutes of wandering aimlessly, squinting to see, he remembers his torch and fumbles with it, trying to switch it on. He’s struggling with the switch, though he never usually struggles, but his gloves seem to be getting in the way and he drops the torch to take them off, forgetting that the strap isn’t around his wrist. The torch sinks slowly, disappearing into a tear in the metal of the ship’s floor. Alexei watches it disappear, almost confused, and then realises he needs that.

The hole isn’t big enough to fit him, so he reaches into it, hoping his torch hasn’t fallen far. The metal is sharper than he expects, and after a moment of trying to find it he feels a rush of cold water against his bare skin and tears his arm out of the hole, confused.

His wetsuit’s torn all down the arm, blood oozing from a shallow cut and being carried away by the water, but he can’t feel it, so it can’t be that bad.

It’s cold, though, without the protection of his wetsuit. The water drifts in and out of the tear, cold against his skin, and he shivers, trying to hold the rip closed. It doesn’t work, of course, and he can’t swim like that anyway, so he lets it go and resigns himself to being cold.

The cut on his arm is still bleeding, but he isn’t worried about it. It doesn’t hurt, and there are no sharks around here anyway. He’s unlikely to get eaten.

His torch is probably a lost cause, but it’s fine. He should probably start heading up soon, as soon as he’s found his way out of the ship.

He has time, though. It’s not a pressing matter.

The ship creaks as he moves through it, swaying a little in the currents around it. It’s at an odd angle, and it’s a little disorientating to manoeuvre through. More than once Alexei manages to swim into the walls of the ship, or a doorframe he’s trying to get through. He’s not moving fast enough for it to really hurt, though, just drifting aimlessly through the dark water.

He’s just started looking for a way out in earnest when he hears someone call his name and hesitates, looking around. No one came down here with him, and he didn’t think anyone had planned to dive here today.

The sound comes again, but he shouldn’t be able to hear anything, not underwater like this. Even if there is someone down here, how would they be speaking?

He checks his radio, but it’s silent, the light off. It wouldn’t work this far down anyway and he drops it, forgetting the strap isn’t around his wrist.

Whoever it is calls again and he forgets about the radio drifting towards the ground, trying to head towards them. Sound carries strangely underwater, but it sounds clear enough.

It sounds like his father.

“Hello?” he calls, or tries to, but his voice is lost in a rush of bubbles.

They call out again, more urgently this time, and he kicks his feet, trying to move faster through the wreck. He doesn’t know why, but he needs to find them.

And find them he does.

He’s seen bodies underwater before. The way they drift back and forth, buffeted by the currents and staring unnaturally.

That doesn’t make it any easier though, not this time.

It’s his father. He doesn’t know how; his father has been dead for years, but somehow…

“Alexei.”

Alexei sobs. It’s lost in a rush of bubbles past his head.

His father smiles, and it looks so wrong.

“It’s okay,” he says, and reaches out, towards Alexei. It should be comforting, but it’s not. “Come here.”

Alexei hesitates, not sure what to do. He wants to reach out, misses his father so badly it hurts, but this … this isn’t right.

“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops. He can barely speak through the regulator, and he reaches up to pull at it. It’s tight, and his fingers faulter with the straps.

“Alexei,” his father says, with more urgency, and Alexei gives up trying to take it of carefully, tearing it away from his face hard enough that the tube snaps. His remaining air disappears in seconds, and without the added buoyancy he sinks towards the floor of the ship.

“Alexei,” his father says again, and Alexei finally reaches towards him, not caring about much else.

His father smiles once more, and Alexei just manages to brush his fingers before he disappears, melting into water.

“No!” Alexei cries, and suddenly he’s choking, lungs filling with water.

It’s at this point, of course, a little too late, that his mind catches up to what’s going on.

He’s fucked up. He’s fucked up, and he’s going to die.

He’s not as upset about it as he should be. Lux will miss him, he knows that, but there are worse ways to die.

Maybe if he’s lucky they’ll even find his body.

His lungs are already burning, and his vision is beginning to blur and fade.

It’s going to be over soon. It’s going to be over soon.

Except … it isn’t.

It’s dark, when he wakes up, and he aches all over, but he’s alive. He feels alive, at least. Not that he really knows what that should feel like.

He feels around for his torch, but he dropped it back in the ship, and so he has no chance of looking around. The floor is damp, though, cold stone, and it feels like an underwater cave.

How did he get here? He doesn’t remember any cave systems around the ship, and it would have taken a miracle for him to somehow make it here himself, but who else could have dragged him into a cave like this, especially as they would have had hardly any time before he drowned.

Things are starting to come back to him, and he’s starting to realise how stupid he was. He can recognise the symptoms of nitrogen narcosis, though he’s never had to actually experience it before.

He kind of understands why you’re not supposed to dive alone, now. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it had just been … bad luck.

He should be dead, really. He doesn’t understand why he’s not.

He’s been sitting there for a few minutes, anxious, when he hears something moving about in the darkness. He reaches for his knife this time again, which he doesn’t remember dropping, but that’s gone too.

It goes silent again as soon as he moves, and he exhales slowly, nervous.

Nothing happens for a moment, and then the sound comes again, slower this time.

“Hello?” he calls, squinting into the darkness as if he has any chance of seeing what’s going on.

There’s a long silence, and then…

“You’re awake.”

Alexei exhales slowly. So it’s a person. That’s good, at least.

“Seems that way.”

“Good,” the person says, after a pause. “I thought maybe you were dead.”

Alexei huffs a faint laugh. “I nearly was. I guess I have you to thank for that?”

“I guess so,” they say. They sound kind of nervous. “I’m glad I could help.”

Alexei nods, though he knows they can’t see him. “Where … am I? Did you take my knife?”

“A cave,” the person tells him. “And … yeah.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want you hurting yourself. Or me.”

That’s fair, Alexei supposes. He was somewhat manic earlier, and he could have lashed out.

“Fine. How deep are we?”

“How deep?”

“Yeah. How many feet?”

“How many…” the person laughs softly. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Sorry.”

Alexei sighs, feeling around for his gauge. It’s still attached to him, thank goodness, but he can’t see it in the darkness. He should’ve gotten one of the ones with the light-up faces.

“I can check my gauge,” he says. “But I don’t have a torch.”

“Oh,” the person says. “You can’t see.”

“No,” Alexei says, a little confused. “Can you?”

The person doesn’t answer. “I’ll get you a light,” they tell him, and he hears a quiet splash.

“Okay,” he says, although he thinks they’re gone.

They’re back a few minutes later, and he hears the faint clink of metal on stone.

“There,” they say, and something touches his leg.

He picks it up, cautious, and finds that it’s a torch. Not his, it’s heavier than his, an older model, he thinks, but when he pushes the switch it still lights up, though it’s dim.

He checks his depth gauge before anything else, and finds that he’s nearly two hundred and fifty feet down. Nearly sixty feet lower than he’d been in the ship.

How did he get here? He’s sure he didn’t sink that far in his narcosis induced haze. He’d still been in the wreck when he lost his oxygen.

He sighs, turning the torch towards the person on the other side of the cave.

It’s hard to make them out properly in the dim light, but they’re not quite what he expected. They’re still half in the water, just their head and shoulders visible above the dark water, but they’re definitely no one he knows, no one he even recognises from the dive school.

They’re not wearing any kind of gear, as far as he can tell, not even a wetsuit, and that … that’s stupider than what he was doing. It’s not safe to free-dive around here, especially not at this time of year, and especially not if you’re going to be exploring.

“How did you get down here?” he asks, kind of amazed.

They shrug, as though it doesn’t matter. “I live not far from here.”

“I mean … how did you get this far down with no equipment?”

He’d hoped they’d have something, perhaps a spare regulator, because he’s no free-diver and he won’t make it to the surface from here without something.

They laugh a little, surprised. “Why would I need equipment?”

“So you don’t drown?”

They laugh again. “I won’t.”

Alexei shakes his head, rubbing his hand over his face. “It’s your funeral, I suppose.”

“You’re the one who nearly died.”

“I guess,” Alexei says, though he’s not convinced. “Thanks, by the way.”

They smile. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m Alexei.”

They smile again, a little brighter. “I’m Freddie. Hi.”

“Hi,” Alexei echoes. “You planning on getting out of the water?”

Freddie shrugs. “Not really. It’s comfortable.”

“It’s freezing.”

“To you, maybe.”

Alexei sighs, looking up for a moment at the roof of the cave. “I don’t understand you.”

“I don’t understand you either. Why did you pull the mask off your suit?”

“Nitrogen narcosis,” Alexei admits. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“What’s that?”

“What’s…” Alexei trails off, confused. It would take an incredibly skilled diver to free-dive this deep, but this guy doesn’t even know what nitrogen narcosis is? “Drunkenness of the deep, you know.”

“I know what drunkenness is.”

Alexei shines the light back at him, watching him squint, and studies him for a moment. He’s got dark skin, hair pulled into a messy bun, and he’s resting his head on his arms, looking sideways at Alexei. Something about him seems … off, but Alexei can’t tell what it is, and he’s starting to suspect that maybe the nitrogen narcosis hasn’t worn off as much as he’d thought it had.

“Can you get out of the water?” he asks, cautious.

Freddie eyes him for a moment and then sits up a little. “Alright. If it’ll make you feel better.”

He pulls himself out of the water with apparent ease, and Alexei shines the torch down his body, not really caring if it’s kind of weird.

The light glints off scales, deep red as far as Alexei can tell, and he switches the torch off, angry with himself.

There’s a silence.

“Are you okay?”

“Go away,” Alexei says, a little petulantly. Telling what’s almost certainly a figment of his imagination to go away probably won’t do any good, but maybe it will make him feel a little better.

“Did I do something wrong?”

That throws him off a little. Freddie sounds … anxious, a little concerned, and real or not Alexei feels a little guilty for snapping at him.

“No, it’s just … I’d rather be alone right now.”

“Oh.”

There’s a long, drawn-out silence. Alexei would like to believe Freddie’s left, but he can still hear breathing, soft and low.

Maybe that’s his own.

He picks the torch up again, cautious, and flicks it on. Freddie’s still sitting in the cave, tail wrapped around his body, and he jumps when the beam hits him.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just … can I help?”

Alexei sighs and turns the torch off again. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

Alexei puts the torch down, though he’s careful not to let it roll away, and pulls his knees up to his chest. “Yes.”

“What are you upset about?”

“I’m going to die down here.”

“No,” Freddie says, and he sounds very sure about it. “You’ll be okay.”

Alexei just snorts, not bothering to respond, and hears Freddie sigh.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, again. “I can bring you food, if you need, and…”

“You’re not even real.”

There’s a long silence. Alexei kind of hopes saying it out loud snaps the hallucination, though maybe a hallucination is better than being alone.

“I’m real,” Freddie says. He sounds a little confused.

“Sure,” Alexei says. He’s pretty sure arguing won’t help, and he doesn’t really have the energy.

“I am,” Freddie insists, and Alexei feels him shuffling around in the dark. “I promise.”

“Sure,” Alexei says, again, and hears Freddie sigh.

“Really,” he says, and something cool brushes Alexei’s wrist.

It takes him a moment to realise that Freddie’s touching him, and he snatches his arm away, shuffling away and picking the torch up, shining it in Freddie’s eyes.

He seems almost frozen, hand hovering in mid-air.

“Don’t touch me,” Alexei says, a little too harshly. Real or not, Freddie’s a stranger, and he didn’t ask.

“I’m sorry,” Freddie says, withdrawing his hand.

Alexei shrugs, leaning against the cave wall and leaving the torch on. He doesn’t want to be taken off guard again.

He doesn’t really know what to think, honestly. He doesn’t know if it’s normal to be able to feel a hallucination, but if Freddie’s not a hallucination then…

Well.

“Maybe I should go,” Freddie says, after a few minutes of silence. “I … I can bring you some food, if you want?”

“Alright,” Alexei says, and he thinks he’s kind of relieved.

“Okay,” Freddie says, nodding to himself. “I just, um… what do you eat?”

Alexei thinks about that for a moment. “I don’t suppose you cook your food?”

Freddie shrugs. “I … don’t know?”

“Fine,” Alexei says. “I can eat most fish, just … bring my knife back, please.”

“Okay,” Freddie says, though he sounds a little nervous. “Please don’t use it on me.”

“I won’t,” Alexei tells him, and leans against the wall.

Freddie nods and wriggles over to the entrance to the cave, dropping himself through the hole and disappearing into the dark water.

Alexei keeps the torch trained on the hole for a moment, to make sure he’s actually gone, and then switches it off. He doubts there are any spare batteries around here.

If Freddie comes back, he tells himself, then he’ll have to seriously consider the possibility that he’s actually real, somehow, and not a symptom of the nitrogen narcosis that hasn’t completely worn off.

He’s not sure which outcome he hopes for. If he is real then at least Alexei isn’t alone down here, at least he has a chance of survival, but mermaids being real is kind of a lot to process, really.

Maybe they’re just very good at hiding.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but it’s very dark, and the only sounds are his own breathing and the soft back and forth of the ocean lapping at the mouth of the cave, and they lull him to sleep after a few minutes.

When he wakes it’s to someone calling his name gently, and he sits up. Sleeping on the floor of a cave hasn’t done wonders for his back, and he aches, but he fumbles around for the torch.

Freddie’s back, still half in the water, and he waves when the beam of the torch hits him.

Maybe he is real.

“Hi,” he says, and pulls himself out of the water, offering Alexei his diving knife and a dead fish.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, taking them both. The fish is a large salmon, and he spends a minute trying to set up the torch so he can gut it.

Freddie’s watching him, but he tries to ignore him, carefully descaling and gutting the fish, leaving the offcuts in a small pile.

The knife isn’t ideal for the job, and he makes a bit of a mess, but food is food, even if he has to eat it raw in a cave in the dark. At least he won’t starve.

Water is probably going to be more of an issue, but he doesn’t ask about that right now.

“Can I have those bits?” Freddie asks, pointing at the pile of offcuts, and Alexei nods, curious.

He drops the scales and bones out of the cave and eats the guts, humming to himself, and Alexei huffs a faint laugh, chopping his part up into neat slices, or as neat as he can manage with the knife he has.

“Why don’t you eat those bits?” Freddie asks, when he’s finished and watching Alexei eat.

“Taste bad,” Alexei tells him.

Freddie wrinkles his nose. “That’s not true. They’re good.”

“If you say so,” Alexei says, a little amused. “I don’t like them, though.”

“Weird,” Freddie says, thoughtful. “There were a lot of people in the ship, just now.”

Alexei frowns. “The ship you found me in?”

Freddie nods. “They were collecting your stuff, I think.”

“Right,” Alexei says. They must be friends of his, who’ve realised he never went home and come looking.

He must have been here longer than he’d thought.

“Yeah,” Freddie says. “They were upset, I think.”

“They must think I’m dead,” Alexei says, and buries his head in his hands.

Poor Lux. He wants to find her, tell her he’s okay, but he would never survive leaving the cave without equipment.

“Are you okay?” Freddie asks, quiet, and Alexei glances up at him. He reaches out and then pulls his hand back, apparently remembering how Alexei reacted last time.

“I need to get home,” Alexei says, although he has no idea how. “My friends will miss me.”

“Oh,” Freddie says, and he sounds almost disappointed.

“Was Lux there?” he asks. “She’s … tall, white hair?”

Freddie considers for a moment. “I think so.”

Alexei nods. She doesn’t dive very often, but she would’ve come down if they thought he was in trouble.

He’s glad he didn’t die there. He would hate for her to find his body.

“How will you get back?” Freddie asks.

“I don’t know,” Alexei admits.

Freddie considers for a moment, opening his mouth as though to say something, and then apparently changes his mind. “Oh,” he says, finally. “Okay.”

Alexei closes his eyes, painfully close to tears, though it’s stupid. He’s lucky to be alive.

“Do you know if there’s fresh water around here?” he asks, just kind of hoping that Freddie will leave.

“Yeah,” Freddie says. “Why?”

“To drink?”

“I can probably get you some,” Freddie says, although Alexei can tell he doesn’t get it.

“Please,” Alexei says, and he nods, slipping back into the water.

Alexei turns the torch off and puts a hand over his mouth, trying to silence himself, though there’s not one to hear him.

He can’t help crying, really. He misses the triplets and his friends from the dive school, and he just wants to go home. He can’t live down here.

He doesn’t know how long Freddie will be gone, and he stifles the tears as soon as he can, taking deep, shaky breaths. He’s going to be okay. He has to be.

Freddie comes back a while later with what looks like a bucket, though an odd one, full of water.

“Here,” he says, and offers it to Alexei.

It’s fresh, despite being carried through the salt water, and that’s kind of impressive, honestly.

Alexei drinks a little of it and then puts it aside, careful not to spill it.

“Why do you need fresh water?” Freddie asks, curious, and Alexei shrugs.

“Humans need water to survive.”

“But there’s salt water everywhere. Is that not good enough?”

Alexei shakes his head. “If I drank too much of that I’d go crazy and then die.”

“Weird,” Freddie says, thoughtfully. “Humans seem kind of fragile. No offence.”

Alexei shrugs. “I guess so,” he says. “We’re pretty hardy in some situations, though.”

“Like what?”

Alexei doesn’t really want to sit here talking, but it’s not like he has much else to do, and Freddie’s so curious. It’s kind of sweet.

“Sometimes people survive huge falls,” he says, humouring him. “And there’s this thing called hysterical strength, that helps people do crazy stuff like lift cars in emergencies.”

Freddie considers that. He looks a little sceptical, and honestly Alexei doesn’t blame him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Alexei says. “It’s pretty cool.”

“Can you do that?”

“I assume I would, in the right situation. Never happened, though.”

“Huh,” Freddie says. His tail is twitching, just a little, where it’s laying on the stone, and Alexei wonders if it’s just a nervous tic. “That is pretty cool.”

“Have you talked to humans before?” Alexei asks, and Freddie shakes his head.

“No. We’re not … really allowed. Kind of dangerous, you know?”

Alexei nods, a faint smile pulling at his lips. “Makes sense. Humans can be kind of … shoot first, ask questions later.”

“Yeah,” Freddie says. “I probably shouldn’t have rescued you, honestly, but it felt unfair to let you die.”

“Thanks,” Alexei says, kind of touched. “I appreciate it.”

Freddie’s really nice, honestly. It takes a few days for it to really sink in that he is real, but Alexei knows well enough that the nitrogen narcosis has worn off by now, and anyway, he thinks he actually likes Freddie.

He’s very chatty, full of questions, and Alexei tells him about his life, about Cas and Lux and Gem and his friends from the dive school, about life on land. Freddie tells him things in return, about his friends and the city he grew up in, and it’s honestly fascinating.

It’s nice enough, living in the little cave, but Alexei’s still pining to go home. He likes Freddie, really he does, but he misses the sun, and he misses his friends, and he just wants to go home.

Freddie doesn’t want him to leave. He never says it outright, but Alexei can tell from the way he reacts when he talks about.

He kind of gets it, that Freddie likes him around, but he can’t help it, and he just wants to see Lux again.

Freddie must realise eventually that he’s unhappy, because he asks one day.

“Do you really want to go home?”

Alexei glances up at him. “Yeah.”

Freddie sighs, tail flicking back and forth in the water. “Is it … because of me?”

“No,” Alexei says, rolling the torch back and forth across the ground. “You’ve been really kind to me, but I just … miss it.”

“I’m sorry,” Freddie says. “I could … I could take you home?”

Alexei stares at him for a minute. “You could?”

Freddie nods, biting at his bottom lip.

“Could you have done that this whole time?”

“I … kind of,” Freddie says, not looking directly at him. “But I … didn’t think you’d like it.”

Alexei exhales slowly. “Why not?”

“It’s kind of … invasive?”

“What do you mean?” Alexei asks, cautious. He wants to get out of here, but he’s not sure how far he’d go.

Freddie glances up at him for a moment. He looks almost shy. “I … breathe out the kind of air you need, you see? I could get you back to shore.”

Alexei thinks about that for a moment, letting it sink in. He thinks he could deal with that. He trusts Freddie.

“Is that what you did to get me here?” he asks, and Freddie nods.

It’s like … CPR, kind of. He’s done a couple of first aid courses, he’s fine with CPR.

“Okay,” he says, and exhales. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Freddie echoes. “You’d, um. You’d have to let me touch you.”

Because they haven’t. Not since Alexei pushed him off and said don’t touch me, because Freddie’s good like that. He hasn’t pressed.

“That’s fine,” Alexei says. “I don’t … mind being touched, exactly. I just don’t like it when it’s without warning.”

“Okay,” Freddie says, nodding, and Alexei can see him thinking about asking, but he doesn’t. Not now.

“When can we go?” Alexei asks, after a moment’s silence, and Freddie shrugs.

“We should go at night.”

“Okay,” Alexei says. “When is that?”

“Soon,” Freddie tells him, and he nods.

“Just … tell me when, I guess. I can’t really go anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Freddie says. “I should … go tell someone where I’m going. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” Alexei says, and watches him disappear out of the cave.

It’s a while before he comes back, and Alexei is half asleep when he hears the familiar splash and feels around for the torch.

“Hi,” Freddie says, waving a little when he switches it on.

“Hi,” Alexei tells him. “Are we going?”

“Yeah,” Freddie says, a little sadly. “It probably won’t take too long.”

Alexei nods, casting around for his mask and pulling it on, then standing up and walking over to sit by the edge of the cave. Freddie hesitates for a moment and then offers him a hand, cautious.

Alexei gives him a tiny smile and takes his hand. His skin is cool, kind of damp, and he smiles back, squeezing Alexei’s hand gently.

“Come on,” he says, and pulls Alexei out of the cave and into the ocean.

It’s just a good as ever, and Alexei closes his eyes for a moment as Freddie starts towing him. He’s surprisingly strong, stronger than he looks, and Alexei opens his eyes again just to watch him moving, fascinated.

They swim for a few minutes and then Freddie stops, waving his tail lazily back and forth to keep them in place. Alexei thinks he says something, inaudible through the water, and then he cautiously leans in to press their lips together.

It is kind of like a kiss, no matter what Alexei tries to tell himself, though it’s not like he’s ever kissed anyone but Lux. Still, it means he can breathe.

He thinks he probably wouldn’t mind kissing Freddie even if not for the oxygen.

They can only move for a few minutes at a time before Alexei’s lungs start to burn, but they cover a surprising amount of distance in that time. Alexei barely has to do any work at all.

It’s only about half an hour before the ground beneath them starts sloping upwards towards the surface, and maybe five minutes from there before they break the surface and Alexei gets his first breath of fresh air in weeks. It’s dark, the moon casting a little light over the waves, and the beach is abandoned.

He can see the dock from here, easily close enough to swim to.

“I guess this is it,” Freddie says, and Alexei turns to face him. He hasn’t let go of Alexei yet, but he doesn’t mind so much.

“Yeah,” he says. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“It’s okay,” Freddie says, earnest. “I’d do it again.”

“I hope you don’t have to.”

Freddie smiles a little. “Yeah. Me too. Still, I’d like to see you again?”

“I’ll visit,” Alexei offers, and Freddie smiles.

“I can come up to the dock, if you’d like.”

Alexei nods. “I work there,” he says, “I’ll be there most days.”

“Okay,” Freddie says, pulling him a little closer to press their foreheads together. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you,” Alexei says, and Freddie finally lets him go, letting him find his own feet.

It’s only a short swim back to the beach, and he stumbles out onto the sand, looking out at the sea one last time. Freddie is still floating there, and he waves when he sees Alexei looking.

Alexei waves back and then turns towards the road, pulling his mask off and letting it hang around his neck.

It’ll be a miracle if his car is still on the dock and even if it were he left the keys in his boat, so no chance of getting home that way. He’s not sure what the time is, but hopefully the buses are still running, because walking all the way home isn’t an appealing prospect.

It’s not until he’s actually getting on the bus that he realises he has no money, and the driver raises an eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, running a hand over his face. “I’ve had … one hell of a week.”

The driver laughs. “I can see that. Just get on, I’m not making you walk.”

“Thank you,” Alexei says, genuine. “I’ll make it up to you.”

The man just waves a hand and lets Alexei walk into the back.

He doesn’t sit down, not wanting to get salt water on the seats, just stands and clings to the pole as the bus bumps along the country roads.

He’s so tired, and he can’t wait to see Lux again.

It’s about a ten-minute walk from his stope, and he feels dead on his feet when he gets to the peeling yellow front door. The bell’s been broken for years, and he knocks harshly. Someone will still be up, he’s sure.

It’s Gem who opens the door, in their pyjamas, and for a moment they just stare at him.

“Surprise,” he says, and does half-hearted jazz hands at them. “Not dead.”

“Holy shit,” they say, and beckon him in. “Cas!”

“What!” Cas yells, down the stairs. “I’m busy!”

Gem rolls their eyes. “Tell Lux to come down!”

Alexei can imagine the expression Cas is making, but a couple of minutes later Lux jogs down the stairs and Alexei gives her a little wave.

She just stares at him in the same way Gem did, as though she can’t believe he’s here. Not that he blames her, really.

What she signs, finally, and then fuck.

Surprise! Alexei signs, and gives her a tired half-smile. Not dead.

She narrows her eyes and runs over to stand in front of him. Idiot. Hug?

He nods and she wraps her arms around him, soft and familiar. He buries his nose in her shoulder and hugs her back.

What happened? she asks, when she pulls away, and he just shrugs.

Explain later, he offers. Sleep now, please.

She sighs and shakes her head. Shower first. Then bed.

That’s reasonable enough, and he lets her push him into the shower before she disappears, presumably to tell Cas what’s going on.

A shower does him a world of good, washing the salt from his hair after days, but he’s even sleepier by the time he stumbles out and dries himself off.

Cas is waiting for him when he gets out, but he doesn’t ask questions.

“Good to have you back,” is all he says, and then he lets Alexei wander down the hallway to his room and collapse into bed.

He has no idea how he’s going to explain in the morning, but he’ll find a way. For now he just falls asleep, so glad to be home.

[cranetreegang]

4) 7 Day Fallout Writing Challenge: Coming Home

Day 4!!! This one was way too much fun to write. Decided to do present tense, and nearly wanted to die. Present tense sucks. It’s a bit on the longer side too. It’s like 1,400 words. 

Fallout 3 again! I remember the first time I did Trouble on the Home-front, and I nearly blew the whole place up after I ‘saved’ them. Vault 101 is literally the breeding ground of assholes. EXCEPT for my main man Officer Gomez. He’s a real G.

Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: one curse word and mentions of dead people

Some dialogue (specifically at first with Amata) I did take straight from the game. So credit to Fallout 3 for that.

Amata gives me a smile of relief. The dark circles under her hazel eyes really aged her and her raven black hair is dull and tangled into a messy bun. With the conflict over, I can tell a weight is lifted from her. We move closer together, filling me with a certain nostalgia. I’m finally back with my best friend and I can’t wait to tell her everything that’s happened. To finally catch up without chaos ensuing. The stories I have will stomp anything we ever read in the Grognak Comics. I’m already forming plans on who we can go to for supplies. How I can help protect our people from the Wastes.

“I… I can’t believe it.” Amata whispers, pulling me from my grand plans. “My father… I can’t believe he’s stepping down. I can’t believe you got through to him.” 

“We talked. I think for the first time, he actually listened. He… he didn’t even realize how wrong he was.” I take in the disarray state of the medical room. A place I saw as a sanctuary growing up. I could still see Jim laying stiffly against the wall when I first arrived. Or even Beatrice’s mangled corpse in the next room. A shake of my head returns me to the present. “But I set him straight.” 

“Well, thanks for keeping your cool. Violence would only lead to more problems in the future.” She puts her hands on her hips with a prideful smirk. “It’s time for our dusty old Vault to have a new beginning and it’ll start by opening it up again, and this time for good. It’s a bright new day for the Vault…,” Her pause takes me off guard. She looks at me sheepishly. The same look she gave me when I first got here. “But I’m afraid there’s one thing that has to change.”

“Whatever it is, I’m happy to help.” I reassure her. 

“I know you are and, on behalf of the Vault, I thank you for all you’ve done.” She places her hand on my shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze. She sounds too much like an Overseer already. “But there are still many who blame you for everything that happened. So I have to ask you to leave. I’m sorry, but the situation is just... too delicate for you to stay.” 

My stomach feels like it’s in a knot; like I had been punched in the gut. I know I’m making a face as Amata continues, “Please. If you want to help the Vault, you need to leave.” 

The sting of tears began and my throat’s tight. I stare her down with a bitter smile. “Just like that, huh? After everything I’ve done, you’re kicking me out.” I laugh a bit as I realize that was her plan all along. She knew I would come, she knew I would help, and she knew I wasn’t allowed to stay.

“No, it’s not like that.” Amata grabs my hands to bring my attention back to her. Her hands are so soft compared to mine. “But if you stay, it’ll just keep causing more problems. The Vault can’t take any more in-fighting. It’s just what has to be.” Her explanation only makes my blood boil. I swear, I knew raiders that were less cold-blooded than her. “It’ll be awhile before we’re ready to really go outside. But once the Vault is stable again, maybe we’ll see you out there.” She smiles sweetly at me, which feeds my disgust toward her. I let the silence fester before I rip my hands from hers. She frowns, but switches back to a sweet smile.

“I guess this is goodbye for now.” She reaches behind her and hands me a dirty utility suit. “It’s not much, but take this with you, to remember us by. With luck, we’ll meet again.” 

I look at the grimy suit for a moment in a state of absolute shock. This is it? All that she sees me worthy of is some piece of shit suit? 

“Goodbye, Amata. I have a feeling you’ll do just fine as Overseer.” The ice in my tone causes her to flinch. I give a parting glance to the room that was my whole life with my dad. Him teaching me how to treat cuts, bruises, sprains, and numerous other ailments. The trash and overturn tables made the bile crawl further up my throat. Freddie and Mr. Brotch walk over to me just before I turn away. 

“Goodbye. We’ll miss ya.” Freddie says. His ‘Tunnel Snake’ leather jacket slipping off his slim frame. 

“I never thought you would be back. I’m sorry you have to go. You were always a pleasure to have in class.” Mr. Brotch adds with his warm brown eyes giving me pity. But he does nothing to object to my banishment. 

I almost roll my eyes at their pathetic attempts at a goodbye. “Good luck out there. You’ll need it.” I walk through the familiar yet ruined hallways of my home… former home. I pass by my room. My heart nearly shatters upon seeing Dad’s old bed, but I force myself to keep going. Residents line the hallways as their whispers and glares follow me.

“Good riddance.”

“Get out.” 

“You don’t belong here.” 

“This is all your fault!” The voices say as I pass by.

I hold my head up high despite wanting to yell and scream at them. They’re supposed to be my family, yet here I am leaving with my tail between my legs. I’m at the security room when a familiar guard brings me out of my haze. 

“Officer Gomez?” 

He looks at me with sorrowful eyes. “You aren’t leaving already, are you? Goodness, you just got here.” 

I curse my growing bad luck. He’s always been so kind to me. His salt and pepper hair made me think of a time long before that. The fondest memory being when he got onto Butch for stealing my sweet roll. I thought of him as my hero from that moment forward. I find it hard to look at him now.

“Yeah. It’s… for the best. Or so I’m told.” I mumble. 

He places his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry about your daddy. And I’m sorry that… I wish you could stay.” I meet his gaze and he looks more upset than I am. “Good golly, I don’t know what’s happened to you out there, but you’re different now. I can see it in your eyes. You’re not... ,” He laughs a bit before giving me a beaming grin. “You’re not a kid anymore. I’m real proud of ya. I know you’re gonna do great things, kiddo. Always have. I hope we get to see you one day. Out there. Maybe you’ll be the one giving us the big tour of the place.” 

I bite my lip to keep a sob at bay before hugging him as tightly as I can. “Thank you, Mr. Gomez. I’m gonna miss you.” My voice cracks and a few tears stream down my cheek.

He chuckles a bit, but hugs me back. “Stay safe.” 

I nod my head and smile. “You too.” 

He pats me on the back as I walk towards the exit. I spare him one last look. He waves with a warm parting smile. I walk outside and open the wooden slat door. The ground shudders from the vault closing. The breeze rifles through my hair and the dust fills my nostrils. The heat of the waning sun warms my skin. I hear the metal screeching of the vault sealing. My breath leaves my chest and a choked cry follows. It’s done. 

I stare at the scorched landscape around me. Echoes of the past are all that’s left. Megaton catches my eye against the evening sun. I suppose that’s not entirely true, I realize. I think of Gob, and Lucas, and even Moriarty. I start to think of the Brotherhood, and the people of Rivet City. So many people that I’ve met, helped, or killed. I notice a furry blob heading towards me. A wide grin forms on my face when I realize who it is.

Dogmeat barrels up to me with yips of excitement. I pat his head while scratching behind his large ears. His rough fur feels great against my near numb fingers. His brown and blue eyes fill me with a comforting warmth. 

“I missed ya, too. Ya mangy mutt.” I tease.

He nudges my wet cheek then takes off down the hill. I look back at the Vault. I feel over the utility suit in my hands. The 101 is a faded yellow against the dingy navy. I hang the suit on the wooden door and re-shoulder my rifle. I meet up with the enthusiastic pooch at the bottom who huffs at my lack of rush. He spins in place a few times before taking charge towards Megaton. Our home.