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whump-tr0pes · 3 years

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Honor Bound 5 - 7

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Content warning: permanent injury, chronic pain, mild implied spice, PTSD, accidental triggering, past captivity, really fucked up parenting

“What kind of tea do you want?” Edrissa said, her head in the tea cabinet. “I have chamomile, mint, the spice tea, basil and mint, lemon balm, green tea, Gavin’s headache tea, and that new black tea I got yesterday that’s really really good. It’s almost like Oolong but it’s a little more, I don’t know, intense? Maybe it’s an Oolong blend. I haven’t figured it out yet. Mx. Sadey said the labels fell off when the box got wet and so it’s just kind of a surprise any time they pull teas from that box…”

Sam glanced at her from where they stood at the counter kneading bread dough with one hand. Their right arm was slinged. It was feeling better since they’d hurt it again three days ago, but Finn wasn’t taking any chances. It still throbbed sometimes, still sent those agonizing stabs of pain through them when they moved just wrong. Still, it didn’t feel like anything more was wrong.

Edrissa’s blue eyes met theirs. Their heart squeezed as she blushed.

“Umm…” They scrunched their nose as they thought. “Chamomile, please.”

Edrissa nodded and turned her gaze to Zachariah, who stood across the kitchen at another counter chopping onions for the stew that would feed the family tonight. Her lips curved into a faint smile.

“I’ll, um, take chamomile too, please,” Zachariah said softly.

Edrissa nodded once and pulled the tin from the cabinet. She flitted to the stove and began to heat the kettle. Then she spun and went to Sam’s side, her hip just brushing against theirs. Sam wanted to pull her close and kiss her, right there.

“How’s the bread going?” she murmured, and Sam flushed, hoping she was dropping her voice so she’d have an excuse to draw even closer. The faint, sweet flowery smell of her shampoo wafted over Sam, that and the smell of sunshine that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

“Um, good,” they said, and their voice cracked. They cleared their throat. “Good. I think it just needs to sit… right?”

Edrissa beamed. “Right. We’ll let it rise, then place it in the pans. Speaking of.” She darted to the oven. “I should preheat this.”

Zachariah set the knife down on the counter and crossed to the stove. He steered clear of Edrissa as he slid the onions into the stew pot. She watched him carefully, her gaze following his hands. Her eyes flicked to his face and back, and she smiled again.

It would be so good if she liked him, too, Sam thought with a flush.

“Celery next?” Zachariah said, already crossing to the refrigerator.

“Yeah,” Edrissa said. She pulled three mugs down from the cupboard as Zachariah took a giant stalk of celery from the refrigerator and began to cut it into bite-sized pieces on the cutting board. Edrissa scooped three spoonfuls of chamomile into the tea strainers and set them each into the mugs.

“What’re you making us?” Vera said as she walked into the kitchen. Sam looked up at her and saw her smiling, wandering over to the stove. “Need any help?”

“Not yet,” Edrissa said. “Actually…” She glanced around the kitchen at Sam and Zachariah. “I think we might have it covered.”

“Fair enough,” Vera said with a nod. She turned and went to the barstools that stood along the counter that looked into the kitchen. She sat down with a groan.

“Where’s Tori?” Sam said as they gently placed the dough into a bowl and covered the bowl with a cloth.

“Reading,” Vera said with a shrug. “She wanted some alone time, so I’m out here harassing you.” She laughed. “Are you feeling harassed?”

“No,” Edrissa said, raising her eyebrows at Vera.

“Yes,” Sam said at the exact same time, throwing an impish grin Vera’s way.

Vera snorted and looked to Zachariah. “What about you, kid? You break the tie. Are you feeling harassed?”

Zachariah’s eyes went wide and his face went pale as he looked up at Vera. His gaze darted to Sam and Edrissa and back to Vera. He swallowed hard, his hand curling around a stalk of celery. “Um… y-yes?”

Vera burst out laughing and high-fived herself. “Mission accomplished,” she said with a smile.

Sam looked towards the back of the house as the door opened. They smiled as Isaac and Gavin wandered in, Isaac’s arm slung over Gavin’s shoulders. In the corner of the eye, they saw Zachariah tense and turn back towards the cutting board. Edrissa didn’t seem to bat an eye, but returned to Sam’s side, winding her arm around Sam’s waist and pressing a kiss to their cheek. Sam flushed as they pulled her close and kissed gently into her hair. Their flush deepened as they noticed Vera look at them – and then waggle her eyebrows at them with a wide grin on her face.

“How’s the lake?” Vera said from her seat at the counter.

Isaac drew his free hand through his hair and laughed. “Completely devoid of fish, as far as I can tell,” he said with a shrug. “At this point we’ve put lines down the whole way around the lake and caught nothing.”

“It doesn’t count if you’re making out the whole time and not watching the lines,” Vera said, and cocked an eyebrow at Isaac.

Isaac and Gavin both flushed an almost painful-looking red. Isaac opened his mouth to protest. “I…”

“Oh, just ignore her, Isaac,” Sam said good-naturedly, their arm still around Edrissa’s waist. “She’s been harassing us since she sat down.”

Vera idly chewed a fingernail. “Which, as I said, was my mission,” she said. “And I think I’m pulling it off beautifully. Who else am I supposed to bother if Tori’s not around?”

“Where’s Tori?” Isaac asked as he went to the sink and filled a cup with water. He drank the whole thing and filled it again.

Vera shrugged. “She wanted some time to herself. She’s reading. And I wanted to come bother you lovely people.”

“Lucky us,” Isaac grumbled, and shot a winning smile in Vera’s direction. “I think it might be worth it to talk to someone in Burmingham about stocking the lake. Having meat around would be good.”

Edrissa wrinkled her nose. “Oh, good. More fish.”

The kettle on the stove began to whistle. Edrissa left Sam’s side to go take it off and pour steaming water into the three cups on the counter. “I can make tea for you guys, too,” she said, and looked up at Vera, Isaac, and Gavin.

“No, no thanks,” Gavin said quietly, his cheeks still red. Isaac shook his head.

Vera smiled. “I’m okay, thanks,” she said.

Edrissa nodded and put the kettle back on the stovetop. She picked up two of the mugs. She took one to Sam, carefully passing it into their left had before she kissed them gently on the cheek again. Then she went to Zachariah’s side. He dwarfed her, standing as tall as Isaac, and broader in the shoulders and hips. Sam’s heart skipped as Edrissa handed him the cup, having to crane her head back to look up at him, her pale blonde hair looking almost like white gold against Zachariah’s warm brown skin. Sam’s throat bobbed as they swallowed, their mouth going dry at the thought they’d had ever since Zachariah appeared into their life again.

Maybe…

Zachariah smiled shyly at Edrissa as he took the cup. “Thanks, Edrissa,” he murmured. “You’re a sweetheart.”

The smile on Sam’s face disappeared. Their stomach lurched. Gavin and Vera both gasped.

Edrissa spun around to look at Vera, and her gaze drifted to Gavin. “W-we don’t say that word,” Edrissa said tightly.

Zachariah fell a step back, his hands still clutching the mug. He seemed to shrink before Sam’s eyes. “I’m… ‘m sorry,” he said through trembling lips. “I didn’t… I… I’m sorry.”

Sam glanced at Vera. She was staring at the counter, drawing in slow, deep breaths, her hands clenched into fists in front of her. She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled her neck, and Sam could hear it pop from across the kitchen. They chewed their lip.

Movement in the corner of their eye drew their gaze to Gavin. He stood huddled against Isaac’s side, his eyes wide and filled with horror – and staring right at Vera.

“Oh, fuck,” Gavin whispered.

Vera opened her eyes and blew out another breath through her lips. She met Gavin’s gaze. “Well,” she breathed. “That’s a fucking horrifying realization.”

Zachariah blinked and looked at Vera. “Wh-what? I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” Vera said evenly, but her hands shook as she clasped them together. She looked up at Gavin, and the pain in her eyes made Sam’s chest ache. “And I didn’t even… make the connection.”

“N-neither did I,” Gavin whimpered softly. His fingers tangled in Isaac’s shirt. Isaac pressed an anxious kiss against Gavin’s temple.

Sam wet their lips. “Um, Zachariah…” They walked to Zachariah’s side, standing just beside Edrissa. They could feel everyone’s gazes on their back. “We, um, don’t say that word because, um… that’s what Joseph Stormbeck used to call Vera when he… captured her.” They gently rested their hand on Zachariah’s arm, and felt Zachariah relax slightly under the touch. “And that’s what Colleen Stormbeck called Gavin while she, um…”

“My whole life,” Gavin said with a hollow voice. “That’s what she called me my whole life. That’s what she called all her playthings. And I never even… noticed.”

“I’m sorry,” Zachariah said in a small voice. “I’m sorry.” He drew himself up to his full height and looked at the others. Sam turned and saw Gavin still looking right at Vera, and she looked right back at him with a matching expression of horror and understanding. Sam’s hand slipped from Zachariah’s arm, and they flexed their fingers as their hand fell to their side. Edrissa’s eyes were fixed on Sam, a strange sort of sadness crossing her face.

Slowly, Vera pushed herself up from the barstool and crossed to Gavin’s side. Tears shone in Gavin’s eyes. Vera’s were dry, looking almost fevered. She held out a hand to Gavin.

Gavin slid from Isaac’s embrace and fell against Vera as she wrapped her arms around him and crushed him to her chest. He squeezed her tight and laid his head on her shoulder.

“Now we know,” Vera said heavily, her voice tight with tears.

“H-how did we… miss that?” Gavin said, and his voice broke.

Vera huffed out a broken laugh. “Don’t make me remind you this early in the afternoon that you’re a dumb—”

“I’m a dumbass,” Gavin grumbled against her shoulder. “I know.”

Isaac stepped forward and wrapped his arms around them both. “I’m… um… s-sorry,” he croaked. “For both of you. That they… hurt you that way.”

Vera sniffed and pulled away from them both. She still held Gavin by his shoulders. “Yeah,” she said weakly.

Zachariah shifted his feet next to Sam. “So… so they… Gavin, you…”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, and swiped at his eyes. “I mean, I knew she… used me, but I didn’t realize… she…” He cleared his throat. “Um…” He blew out a slow breath, and shrugged out of Vera’s grip. “Isaac… I’m going to go, um, change.”

Isaac met Gavin’s gaze, and Sam’s heart ached at the pain they saw there. He always blames himself. He always feels like he has to fix it.

Isaac nodded. “Okay. Do you want—”

“I just need a minute,” Gavin rasped, and sidestepped Isaac. He disappeared down the hall, with Isaac looking after him.

When Isaac finally looked away from the hallway, he turned to Vera. “Do you…?” He held out his hands to her.

“Yeah, sure,” Vera said brusquely, and dragged Isaac into a crushing hug.

At Sam’s side, Zachariah crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the floor. “Is there, um… any, anything else I shouldn’t say?”

Sam glanced at Edrissa. “Edrissa… Do you—”

“Honey,” she said with a tremulous voice. She set her jaw. “They called me ‘honey’.”

Zachariah nodded.

Sam wet their lips. “And… please don’t call me, um… Sammy,” Sam said, looking up at him, their heart speeding up as his light brown eyes found theirs. They glanced to Edrissa, and to Vera and Isaac, who had let go of each other and now stood close enough that their shoulders were touching. “Guys, can you think of anything…?”

“I think that about covers it,” Vera said, a hint of bitterness in her voice. “I mean, I’m guessing we’ll be finding shit like this for a while.” She fixed Zachariah with her gaze, and he seemed to wither under it. “But it’s not your fault, kid. Okay?”

Zachariah swallowed loudly. “Um…”

“It’s not,” Sam said gently, finding their own hand once again settling on his shoulder. “We all make mistakes with this stuff, and you didn’t know.”

Zachariah’s mouth twisted. “But I do now,” he said. He looked at Edrissa as she crossed to Sam’s side and tucked herself under their unslinged arm. “And I’ll… I’ll remember.”

Sam nodded at Zachariah, and turned to look at Edrissa. She was looking at them both with a sad, wistful smile on her face.

Continued here

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#honor bound 5 #angst #permanent injury tw #chronic pain tw #mild implied spice tw #PTSD tw #accidental triggering tw #past captivity #Colleen Stormbeck is her own content warning #child abuse tw #Edrissa rants about pretty things #the throuple #Isaac/Gavin #Vera and Gavin: the friendship we didn't know we needed

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whump-tr0pes · 3 years

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let's be honest Mother Knows Best from Tangled is actually mega Colleen Stormbeck vibes

Oh my god yes

#colleen Stormbeck is her own content warning

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whump-tr0pes · 4 years

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Honor Bound 2 - 76

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound.

AO3

DISCLAIMER: hey folks, as most of you know Vera is ex-law enforcement. This is an important part of her character and backstory. In this chapter, she relies a lot on her training, using tactical skills that aren’t specifically isolated to law enforcement. If you’re uneasy about engaging in that sort of content right now, please just ask me for a cliffsnotes version!

Cw: dissoci@tion, death thoughts/mention/discussion, Colleen Stormbeck, death, blood, mild gore, suicidal thoughts a la ‘I deserve to die’, self-hatred

Vera sat in the open door of the passenger seat, her hand clamped so tight around her gun that her fingers ached. Thirty seconds had passed, if that, since the team reached the car. Every second flayed her alive. She pushed her tears down, pushed down the terror welling up in her chest. Sam is dying. Sam is dying. Sam is dying.

She couldn’t look in the back seat. She couldn’t look at Finn helplessly wringing their hands over Sam, muttering to themselves. She caught only a few words at a time.

“…tourniquet for eight hours…”

“…need fluids, but…”

“…Sam, please, stay awake…”

Her eyes shone with tears. She blinked them away, her gaze fixed on the front door. The door where Ellis and Gavin were supposed to come out any time now.

Any time now.

Any time.

She pushed away the sound of Isaac sobbing in the middle seat of the car. “Sam, no, I’m s-so sorry, I should ha-have put my vest on, on you, p-please, Sam, no…”

Almost worse than Isaac’s sobs was Tori’s silence. She sat huddled beside Isaac, her arms wrapped around her legs, her knees against her chest, and shivered. Her eyes were unfocused, far away. If Vera hadn’t had to watch the door, she would’ve had her arms around Tori, her face buried in Tori’s hair, her lips anywhere Tori would let Vera kiss her. But she couldn’t do that. Not with Isaac falling apart in the middle seat.

Tori probably isn’t even here.

Vera whimpered softly, and tossed her head to clear the thought.

She couldn’t listen to any of it. She couldn’t stand the waiting, the knowing that they were moments from freedom but they couldn’t leave. Couldn’t leave their family behind. If they left Ellis, Finn would break. And if they left Gavin…

I’m not fucking leaving Gavin. I said he’s on the team. He’s not… family… but he’s ours, just as much as any of us are. He’s suffered right alongside us. He broke, so we’d have a shot at escaping. I’m not fucking leaving him.

Bang.

The muffled gunshot punched Vera in the chest like she had taken the bullet. That was right behind the door. Her gun snapped up to point at the door. If someone’s shooting, they’re probably shooting at Ellis. Or Gavin. No…

Bang.

Vera lurched forward, ready to charge the door and help whoever it was behind it. They didn’t have a gun. There’s no way it’s them shooting. Unless they got one… The thoughts flew through Vera’s mind in the moment it took for her to climb the first step.

Vera’s heart nearly burst as the door banged open. Ellis ran out. Gavin wasn’t behind them. The door slammed closed.

“Finn. Finn…” Vera dashed around to the back door and pulled it open. “Finn, it’s Ellis.”

Finn looked up from Sam where they lay across the back seat and let out a strangled sob. Finn launched themselves out of the car. Just as they got to their feet Ellis collided with them and slammed them back against the car so hard it rocked to the side.

“Finn,” Ellis sobbed, barely able to speak through their tears, their hands touching every inch of Finn that they could reach. “Finn, I love you so much, I thought you were dead, Finn, I…” Ellis pulled Finn into a kiss, shoving their mouth against Finn’s with a desperation that bordered on violence. Ellis spoke against Finn’s lips as tears poured down their cheeks. “Finn, babe, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…”

Finn wrapped their arms around Ellis’s waist and pulled them tight against them, wailing Ellis’s name. “Ellis,” they cried. “Oh, Ellis, you… you’re here, you’re alive…”

“Ellis,” Vera rasped, putting a hand gently on their shoulder. Not pushing them away from Finn, but pulling them closer to her. Her fear stated bitter on her tongue. “Where’s Gavin?”

Ellis twisted to look back towards the house. “G-Gavin, he…” Ellis tore a hand through their hair and whined softly. “L-Leo—”

“No,” Isaac whimpered from the middle seat, straining forward towards the door, one hand still stretched back into the back seat, reaching for Sam. “Did Leo… did he…?” Isaac covered his mouth and sobbed.

“Leo shot at us b-but he didn’t hit us,” Ellis said, tears running into Finn’s shirt. “G-Gavin stayed behind, to, to… to give me a ch-chance to run…” Ellis hiccoughed as they cried.

“No,” Isaac said, staggering out of the car. “Finn, give me your gun, please, let me—”

“No,” Vera growled, looking back at the house. “Isaac, no. You’re hurt. I’m going in.”

“N-not without me,” Isaac whimpered. “Vera, please, I n-need to find him, I need, I need…”

Vera placed a hand on Isaac��s vest and pushed. Not roughly, but enough to prove her point. Isaac grimaced and sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“No,” Vera said softly. “You can’t help him like this. I’m going in.” She lifted her chin. “If I’m not back in ten, or if someone comes out that door who isn’t me, run. Run like hell, okay?”

“Vera,” Isaac sobbed, and clutched at her. “V-Vera…”

Vera took Isaac’s chin roughly in her hand. “Don’t insult me by saying I can’t do it,” she said, forcing a smile across her face. “I’ll be right back.” She released Isaac.

“Okay,” Isaac whispered. He crumpled back into the car and leaned over the middle seat, reaching back to take Sam’s hand. Sam stirred and whimpered weakly.

Vera turned back to the house and adjusted her grip on her gun. Carefully, she climbed the stairs, every nerve buzzing. Her skin felt like it was on fire. She blew out a slow breath as she reached the door. Her hands shook as she pulled it open, her gun held out in front of her. There was no one on the other side. She swallowed hard and stalked down the hall.

There was one place Leo would take Gavin, if Gavin was still alive. There was no way Leo would kill Gavin outright. He’d take Gavin to his mother, so his mother could do it. And if his mother truly was as much a creature of habit as she seemed, she would only do it in one place. And Vera remembered how to get there.

She made a left. No guards. Then a right. She shuddered, hoping they were somewhere else in the house, searching for the others. Every second seemed to slow, her own body moving through the air with an unshakeable sense of unreality. Any moment, she could die.

Any moment, she could find Gavin’s body.

With a jolt, she realized she’d made a mistake. She hadn’t taken Finn’s ammo with her. I have four rounds left. God fucking help me. But if the guards found the family outside, Finn would need it.

Besides, if she killed any more guards, she’d just take their ammo. I’m three-two with Isaac. I could stand to up my count with these fuckers. If her family wasn’t at stake, she might have stayed, just to make sure she killed every single one of them. They deserve to die.

Another turn. Another turn. Another turn. Why Colleen would have such a fucking maze for a house was beyond Vera. Maybe it’s to keep captives confused. Maybe it’s to keep us from finding the way out. Somehow, Vera figured captives didn’t find their way out of here very often. Maybe they were the first.

She made another right. Her heart pounded in her chest. She approached the door of Colleen’s office. Vera’s hand shook as it settled on the doorknob. Her blood thundered through her ears. Another slow breath. She twisted the knob and shoved the door open. Her eyes went wide.

Gavin was on his knees, hunched over, sobbing at his mother’s feet. Colleen was staring down at him with a smug, poisonous smile on her face, her arms crossed delicately across her chest, looking like the picture of ease.

Vera’s heart clenched as the door swung open all the way. Leo stood behind Gavin, a gun pointed at the back of Gavin’s head.

THREAT.

Two to the chest, one to the head.

Vera’s finger pulled the trigger almost before her brain sent the command. She felt the recoil of the gun. Heard the shots. Saw Leo jerk, then crumple to the floor.

Vera snapped her gun to the side and pointed it at Colleen. Adrenaline poured through Vera’s system. One shot left. She took aim. She fired.

Colleen lurched to the right, the bullet punching through her shoulder. Colleen toppled to the floor. The slide on Vera’s gun locked back. Empty.

Vera lunged towards Leo where he lay unmoving on the floor, blood running from the hole in his skull. She snatched up the gun that had fallen from his hand. Vera stepped over Colleen and looked down at her, pure hate boiling in her stomach. Vera shivered as rage swept through her. I’m going to fucking kill you, Stormbeck.

Colleen stared up at Vera with terror in her eyes. Colleen clutched at her shoulder, gasping, blood pouring out from between her fingers. Vera licked her lips, savoring the feeling of burning retribution that clutched at her chest. Colleen looked fragile. Weak. Colleen looked like she was nothing, now that she didn’t have her guards around her to hurt whomever it was that Colleen wanted hurt.

She is nothing.

Vera pointed her gun at Colleen’s head. “You should never have touched my people,” Vera spat through her teeth. She pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through Colleen’s skull.

For a moment that could have been an eternity, Vera looked down at Colleen and watched her die. Colleen’s forehead was a mess of blood and shattered bone, and her eyes went dull, unfocused, all the life gone from behind them. The look of terror was still etched on her face.

Vera shuddered as she looked down at the woman who had tortured Tori, who had hurt every single one of her family. You’ll never touch my people again. A spasm of dying rage gripped Vera for a moment. Vera clenched her jaw and pushed it down. Mission’s not done. She turned back to face Gavin.

Gavin was still on his knees, his hands raised above his head. He cowered away from Vera, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Tears poured down his face and he stifled a sob. “Okay,” he whispered, and nodded.

Vera’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “Um… Gavin… what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” he said weakly. “I’m so sorry. God, I’m sorry. But please, j-just… please don’t make it hurt, please…” He dissolved into sobs.

Vera’s mouth fell open slowly. “What… what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I kn-know you’re going to kill me, I d-deserve it, just… please… please don’t make it hurt, I…”

“I’m not gonna kill you, Gavin,” Vera said, impatient, taking a step towards him and holding out her hand. “Come on. Get up. We don’t have much time.”

Gavin cast a glance at his mother where she lay dead on the floor. He shivered and ducked his head. “But… you s-said… she sh-shouldn’t have… hurt your people, and I—”

“You are my people, dumbass.” Vera grabbed Gavin’s arm and tried to pull him up to standing. “Come on.”

“No!” Gavin sobbed, and pulled away. “P-please don’t, don’t take me out there to do it, I… I can’t… f-face them, please don’t… don’t make me… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I… can’t… please just do it here, please…”

“Okay, Gavin, get your shit together,” Vera snapped, her chest tightening with a growing panic, her heart beating hard, counting away the seconds. “We don’t have a lot of time. We have to go, now. You can lose your shit after we’re on the road.”

“Vera, please!” Gavin sobbed, clutching at Vera’s hand. Reaching for the gun. Pointing it at himself. “I know it’s going to happen, it has to happen. Please, please d-don’t make me look at the others, they… I kn-know I don’t deserve f-forgiveness, but I… please, will you just… do this for me…?”

Vera jerked her hand away, pulling the gun out of his reach. Is this what Colleen did to him? Made him think that…?

Ryan said the same fucking things.

Vera swallowed hard and yanked Gavin to his feet. “Enough of that shit,” she growled. “We’re going. Get your shit together. They’ll leave without us.”

“No,” Gavin whimpered.

Vera checked the gun. Five rounds. Dammit. “Let’s go. Stay behind me. Keep up, or I swear to Christ…”

“I will,” Gavin whispered, his face wet with tears. “I’m s-sorry.”

Vera pressed her lips together as she pushed the door open and stalked out into the hall. She pulled Gavin behind her. Her eyes burned with tears.

He was good, she thought with a wave of grief. He was good, he was ours, he was becoming good. And Colleen took that away from him. A tear escaped to roll down her cheek. He can be that again. We’ll help him. We’ll help him remember who he really is.

Gavin stumbled along behind, crying softly. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, over and over and over. “I’m sorry.”

What if he’s broken? So broken we can’t fix him?

No. I was broken, and I found my way.

She retraced her steps, one hand clamped down on Gavin’s shirt, the other tightly clutching her gun.

She stepped out to clear the hallway and nearly collided with a guard. He reached for his gun. Before he could get it out of its holster, Vera fired a shot. The guard crumpled to the ground.

“Motherfuck,” Vera hissed. “Why haven’t we seen any more?”

“I don’t know,” Gavin whimpered. “I don’t know.”

Vera sighed and ground her teeth together. He’s not Gavin Stormbeck anymore. Why does he have to be such a fucking dumbass about this right now?

A left. A right. She could see the doors to the outside. Christ, I hope they don’t shoot me as I come out. She shook her head. Isaac’s not stupid. He’ll make sure nobody shoots us.

She reached the doors. Gavin pulled away from Vera, making a desperate lunge back down the hall.

“Hey!” Vera barked. She grabbed the collar of Gavin’s shirt and yanked him backwards. He stumbled into her. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Please, no,” Gavin whimpered. “I know I… I’m fucking evil but I… please just kill me here. Please. Please d-don’t make me… please…”

Vera’s hand closed on the front of Gavin’s shirt and she jerked him close, so close their noses were almost touching. “Fucking stop that,” she said, her voice trembling. “Fucking stop. There isn’t a single one of us who blames you for this. We know you did what you had to do. We fucking know how much it hurt you. Okay? I see it. We all saw it. We’re not going to kill you, okay?” Vera’s vision blurred with tears. She furiously wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “You’re Gavin fucking Uriah,” she said softly. “And you’re our family.”

Gavin erupted into sobs, nearly falling to his knees, held up only by Vera’s hand on his shirt. She pulled him upright again. “Get your shit together, Uriah,” she spat through her teeth. “We’re almost out.” She pulled him towards the doors again.

Gavin hesitated for a moment. Vera adjusted her hold on Gavin and dragged him down the stairs, her hand clamped tight on the back of his shirt like he was an unruly kitten. He panted behind her, sobs making their way out between breaths. The car door opened and Isaac stumbled out. The front of his pants and the lower part of his vest were still soaked in blood.

Gavin gasped. "Isaac, oh god, no…"

"Not his blood," Vera rasped. "Not his—”

As they reached the car, Isaac lunged forward and pulled Gavin into a bruising kiss.

Oh. Cool. So Isaac's completely lost it.

Isaac broke the kiss and opened the front passenger door, shoving Gavin inside. "There's blood," Isaac said harshly. "There's, there's blood, stay up here so you can't, um, smell it…” He went to close the door.

"Who is it?" Gavin whispered, his hand shooting out to brace the door open. He threw a glance over his shoulder into the car. "Is it—”

"It's Sam," Isaac sobbed.

Gavin folded forward with a sob, his hands going to his hair. “No,” he whimpered. “NO!”

Vera closed the car door on Gavin, muffling his sobs. She pushed Isaac into the middle seat next to Tori and Ellis. Finn’s hands still moved over Sam in the back seat.

Vera threw the door closed and dashed to the driver’s seat. She slammed the car into gear and tore out of the driveway, leaving the house behind.

Final chapter here

@untilthepainstarts, @womping-grounds, @free-2bmee, @quirkykayleetam, @walkingchemicalfire, @inpainandsuffering, @redwingedwhump, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @insomniacscoprio, @cursedscribbles, @whumpywhumper, @stxck-fxck, @omega-em-z-02, @whumps-the-word, @slaintetowhump, @finder-of-rings, @cinnamonflavoredhugs, @thatsthewhump, @im-just-here-for-the-whump, @orchidscript, @this-mightaswell-happen, @newandfiguringitout, @whumpkitty, @pretty-face-breaker

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whump-tr0pes · 4 years

Text

Honor Bound 2 - 60

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound.

AO3

Cw: isolation, dead family mention, thoughts of death, mention of suicide (to escape torture), panic attack mention, Colleen Stormbeck, gendered slurs, ableist slur, death, death threats

Ellis couldn’t even pace around this fucking cell. They couldn’t move around, couldn’t walk, could barely stand up with their wrists chained to the wall. Alone, for at least a day. Ellis had no idea. They’d kept the lights on the whole time, although Ellis had slept and then been awake long enough that they thought it had to be afternoon. Truly, though, they didn’t know. And they had no way of knowing when, if ever, they’d see anyone ever again.

They’d been left with enough food and water to make it through the day, and had been given one bathroom break. Otherwise they’d been left alone in the cell, with nothing to do. Nothing to think about, but their own horror.

And their rage. Their entire body quivered with a wrenching, burning rage that consumed them. Rage at Colleen, rage at the syndicates, rage at the whole goddamned world. At the twisted fucking system that let the families with the most power and least scruples take over the fucking world. Or whatever was left of it; Ellis had no idea what lay beyond the region they’d lived in their whole life. It was too dangerous to travel for it to be worth it most of the time. There was only running, and hiding. They’d tried to hide with their family, before they’d been taken from Ellis. Before Gavin’s fucking uncle Benjamin took them from Ellis.

That old agony washed over them, the familiar abyss they were constantly one bad day from falling into. Christopher. Galen. Chloe. The ones who still haunted Ellis’s dreams, who still called to Ellis from wherever they were, every day. Maybe they were nowhere. Maybe they were gone forever, and that’s what Ellis would be, once Colleen killed them.

They didn’t understand why Colleen hadn’t killed them already. They figured the others were being held together, what was the point of specifying they be in solitary if Colleen was going to separate them all later anyway? No, they were probably held together. And Ellis couldn’t bear to think about what was happening to them right now.

Maybe she knows I’m the one who loses my fucking shit when I’m alone, Ellis thought bitterly. Maybe she knows about my family and just fucking assumes I’m the one who lost my fucking mind when I was first alone. Ellis had done more than lost their shit. They’d done things that they couldn’t bear to think about. They’d disappeared down a path that consumed them, one that they traveled for a year before Gray found them—

No. Can’t think about Gray either.

Other than Tori, Ellis had known Gray the longest. Seven years. Tears burned Ellis’s eyes and they let their head fall back against the wall. I was the first one they saved. The first one. Now Gray was halfway across the region, completely unaware that they’d been taken at all. Unless Colleen sent them a message to brag. But no, that wasn’t possible. If Colleen knew where Gray was, she’d have sent people to wreck the north months ago. There was no way Colleen would know where Gray was. Unless one of us tells her under torture.

Ellis’s heart lifted for a moment. She doesn’t even know they’re still alive. She doesn’t know about Edrissa, either. They’re both safe. Colleen wouldn’t even think to ask.

Ellis’s hands curled into fists and they screamed into the cell, just to hear something besides silence. They didn’t fear torture, or punishment. They knew it was probably coming at some point, and their body rebelled against the thought, but their mind was awash with a slippery sort of apathy.

What they really feared was the isolation. Their hands trembled. I’m going to lose my shit. I’m going to be alone until she kills me.

They let their eyes close, their mind drifting from thought to thought. Where in the house am I? How often am I going to be fed? What time is it? How long is it going to take before I start hallucinating? Briefly, they hoped they would hallucinate their family. Honestly, why the fuck not?

They didn’t know where they were in the house, but they did know where they were in relation to the room they’d all been brought to last night. They’d memorized the route, forcing themselves to repeat it over and over and over in their head. Take a left, hallway turns to the right, pass three doors, go through the fourth on the left, go down the steps, first cell on the right. Not too complicated. All they’d have to do to get back to that first room was do it backwards. Not that there was any value in getting to that room, but it was something. It was the only information they had. It had to be important.

Not that they figured escape would happen, either. There was absolutely nothing they could use. They’d been thoroughly searched before being thrown into the cell and chained to the wall. The guards had taken their knife and the shoelaces from their shoes. Can’t have me trying to kill myself, Ellis thought with a vicious stab of hatred. God fucking forbid I escape that way.

But they had to focus on something. Had to… maybe not hope, but wait. Maybe an opportunity would present itself. Maybe it wouldn’t.

All Ellis wanted, all they really wanted, was to be back with their family. They wanted to be back with Finn, back with Isaac… they wanted to see Sam again, with their almost-annoying ray-of-sunshine soul. They could use a little sunshine now. They wanted to be around Tori, around Vera…

A dark cloud settled over their mind as they thought of Gavin. The others trusted him so much, even Isaac and Vera. The two people Ellis thought would never let him in. And yet, they were the ones who protected the family the most. They had more reason than anyone else to be suspicious of Gavin, and they trusted him. A tiny, nagging doubt scratched at the back of their mind. Maybe Gavin planned this whole thing. Maybe he sold us out to his mom. Maybe the whole thing, the whole thing, has been a trick from the beginning.

Their mind went to how Gavin had looked yesterday, bleeding, screaming as that fucking idiot Leo tortured him. Remembered the fucking brokenness on Gavin’s face as he gave away Isaac’s worst fear. There was no one on earth who could fake that. No one who was that dedicated to a lie.

It hadn’t even been Isaac’s worst fear.

Ellis knew Isaac’s worst fear just as well as anyone else in the family. They’d seen it as Isaac had unraveled, fallen apart and then slowly put himself back together again over the past few months. They’d seen the panic attacks, heard about the nightmares. They’d been there as Isaac had begged to the empty air not to be left, sobbing that he could be good. Ellis knew that Isaac’s worst fear was abandonment. And Gavin had somehow kept that to himself, despite the torture. As Leo’s knife had cut into him, he’d somehow found a way to spill Isaac’s secret, with the only other witness standing over him, and spill it in such a way that Leo might not even think about the fact that Gavin was wrong. There was no way Gavin could have done that if he’d betrayed them all. No way in hell. For a dizzying moment, Ellis thought, holy shit. He must care about us so fucking much.

Unless Gavin legitimately didn’t know that waterboarding isn’t technically Isaac’s worst fear. Could Gavin just have completely missed it, both during Isaac’s torture and during his recovery up north?

No. Gavin’s a dumbass, but even he isn’t that stupid. Gavin knew, and Gavin lied. And Gavin had screamed as Isaac was drowned right in front of him. Sobbed like his heart was being torn out.

Ellis let the image slide from their mind.

They weren’t sure how much longer they were left alone; it could have been minutes, or it could have been another hour. The door of the cell opened, and two guards walked in.

Behind them was Colleen, Mommy Dearest herself, queen of Colleen’s Fucking Crazy Castle. She stared down at Ellis with a smug grin spread across her face.

Ellis shot to their feet, grinding their teeth together. Their wrists pulled against the chains. They weren’t going to be able to break them, they’d tried for hours when they’d first been brought in. But in that moment, all they wanted was to tear the chains from the wall and beat Colleen to death with their bare hands.

“Afternoon, Ellis,” Colleen said, her voice twisting sinuously through Ellis’s ears. “How are you faring?”

“Suck my entire asshole, you vicious bitch, come over here and I’ll show you how I’m faring,” Ellis snarled.

Colleen let out a peal of delighted laughter. “Lord, you’re all so feisty! I enjoy this to no end. Such a fire in each of you. It’s like a new advertisement for anger management each time.” She gestured at Ellis. “Shut them up, please.”

Ellis leaned forward, a flush creeping up their neck and over their face. “Fuck you, you flaming piece of shit, I’ll take your whole fucking arm and tear it off your fucking body and shove it up your—”

They growled as a guard slapped his hand over Ellis’s mouth, reaching for the gag that hung around their neck. Ellis twisted their head and bit down hard on the guard’s hand.

The guard yelped and pulled their hand away from Ellis’s mouth. They slapped Ellis across the face with the other. Ellis staggered and lunged forward again, wincing at the pinch of the manacles on their wrists and not giving a single flying fuck. They shrieked as one guard grabbed them by the hair, the other shoving the gag back in their mouth. Both guards stepped away.

The bitten one shook out his hand, glaring at Ellis. “Fucking psycho,” he hissed at them. Ellis raised both hands as far as they could go and flipped the guards off.

Colleen laughed. “I could have warned you against that, Jones. I’d avoid going near any of their mouths. Apparently Vera’s habit of biting has spread to all of them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the guard muttered, and stepped back against the wall with the other.

Ellis turned their glare on Colleen, wishing her head would burst into flames. I would die for the chance to kill you. Maybe that’s what they were hoping for. Not rescue, but the chance to kill Colleen Stormbeck.

Colleen smirked. “Something I love most about the gag is that…” She took a sauntering step closer. “…you’re left with nothing but your eyes. That’s the only thing you can use to tell me how much you hate me.” Her voice dropped to a low murmur. She took another step closer. Just out of range of a kick, or a headbutt. Standing there, calmly, grinning at Ellis with an open posture. If I wasn’t chained up, she wouldn’t be so fucking smug. She’d be fucking dead.

Colleen tilted her head at Ellis. “Do you know why I decided to keep you separated from the others?”

“No, I have no fucking idea. Let’s have a fucking conversation about it,” Ellis mocked through the gag.

Colleen huffed out an amused breath. “Cute.” She licked her lips, as if in anticipation. “I kept you separate from the others because… I can’t even imagine what losing your family for the second time must do to you.”

Ellis’s eyes fell closed for a fraction of a second but they opened them again, throwing a look of pure hate at Colleen. They forced down the tears that welled up in their eyes because there was no way, there was no fucking way they were going to show her how much this hurt. Colleen could burn in hell if she thought she was going to get a reaction from that. It hurts more than anything else in my entire fucking life.

Colleen’s lips quirked up. “Thought so. Although… just being separated from them… is that really just punishment for the one who kidnapped my nephew?”

A trickle of dread rolled down Ellis’s spine. No. No.

Colleen shrugged. “No. I mean… obviously we’re going to put you to work, I can’t just have you wasting away in this cell doing nothing. I have yet to decide what your assignment will be, but I’ll figure something out.” Colleen’s eyes locked on Ellis’s. “Although I won’t bother you much. You won’t see me again until I’ve killed another one.”

The air rushed out of Ellis’s chest like they’d been punched in the gut. Their eyes moved frantically over Colleen’s face, searching desperately for a sign she was lying: a shifting of her eyes, a twitch of her lip, a motion made just a little too quickly. They found nothing. Nothing but a cold, placid stare that betrayed nothing but truth.

Ellis cried out and fell to their knees. Who was it? Was it Isaac? Was it Vera? Did she kill her for killing those guards? Oh, god, oh god no, was it Sam? No… no, god, please no, they’re innocent, they didn’t do a fucking thing to Colleen… Tears streamed down their cheeks as their shoulders heaved with sobs.

“Wouldn’t you like to know which one I killed?” Colleen said, her voice smooth and dripping venom. Ellis looked up at her, their heart beating out of their chest, terrorized with their need to know, and wishing they could drown out Colleen’s voice so they wouldn’t have to hear which one of their team, their family, was lying lifeless somewhere.

Colleen’s face slid into a poisonous smile. She opened her mouth to speak and paused for just a moment. Relishing it. When she spoke, each word fell from her lips like a physical weight.

“Finn Dunham is dead.”

Ellis let out a scream. They sagged forward, gasping desperately around the gag, struggling to draw a breath as they wailed against the floor. They panted as they sobbed, trying to breathe around the tearing in their chest, trying to grasp the words that were echoing through their mind: Finn Dunham is dead. Finn Dunham is dead. Finn Dunham is dead. Finn Dunham is dead. Finn Dunham is dead. Finn Dunham is dead.

NO. FINN’S NOT DEAD. THEY CAN’T BE DEAD. THEY CAN’T BE… NO NO NO NO NO NO.

Colleen smirked and turned to go.

Ellis dragged the gag out of their mouth. “SHOW ME THE FUCKING BODY,” they screamed.

Colleen paused and slowly turned around, her face twisted into an amused half-smile. “Excuse me?”

“SHOW ME THE BODY,” they sobbed. “I don’t… I don’t believe you.” THEY CAN’T BE DEAD, PLEASE, NO, FINN CAN’T BE DEAD.

Colleen scoffed. “When I’ve killed them all, I promise I’ll take you to them. That’ll probably be months from now, but once they’re all dead, I promise, I’ll take you to all of their bodies. You can take one last look before I put a bullet in your head and dump you all into the same grave. How sweet is that? You can all be together then.” Colleen grasped Ellis’s hair and dragged their head upright, her gaze moving over Ellis’s face as they wailed. “But until then,” she murmured, leaning towards Ellis, “That’s more goodbye than you deserve.”

She dropped Ellis’s head and turned on her heel. Ellis sagged forward, their forehead pressing to the floor as they buried their face in their hands and sobbed.

Continued here

75 notes · View notes

whump-tr0pes · 4 years

Note

are we sending anon hate? well I’m sending mine to Coleen Stormbeck

#colleen stormbeck is her own content warning #colleen stormbeck is a mean mean lady

8 notes · View notes

whump-tr0pes · 4 years

Note

Gavin Whump Anon: What if, at some point during the family's time in Stormbeck "hospitality," Gavin stopped calling Colleen "Mom"

Now that 50 has come out, how much more likely do you think this is??

#honor bound 2 #gavin is my bisexual disaster child #colleen stormbeck is a mean mean lady #colleen stormbeck is her own content warning

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whump-tr0pes · 3 years

Text

Honor Bound 5 - 4

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

The Sam-Gavin moment requested by @newandfiguringitout, and chronic pain for Sam requested by @endless-whump and @the-whumping-willow

Content warning: chronic pain, permanent injury, flashbacks, dissoci@tion, blood, pain medication

The pieces of the bowl shattered across the kitchen. Sam didn’t have time to blink before one drove into their leg, just below their knee. They gasped at the bite of pain and stumbled backwards. Their foot landed on another shard and they staggered back, blindly, and tripped over their own feet.

They toppled over and fell directly onto their injured arm.

Pain exploded through them, sharp as a knife, knocking them loose in their own mind. Their lungs were being crushed in their chest. They struggled to breathe around the pain that twisted inside them, choking them.

They struggled to breathe around the collar around their neck.

They fumbled blindly for their arm, feeling for the blood, for the pain, for the lack of pain that radiated across their hand, their forearm. There was no numbness now. It was all fire. It was all agony. There were no bones left, no muscles, no skin. There were only nerves, and they were nothing but pain.

Their throat was raw before they realized the sound they heard tearing through their ears was the sound of their own scream. Their eyes rolled back and they twitched on the floor, chest heaving, skin damp with sweat, holding their arm tight to their side and shuddering at the pain that crashed over them in unbearable waves.

“S-Sam?”

“Sam, are you—”

They trembled and wailed against the floor. The pain spiked and sunk claws into their brain, pushing everything else out. Pushing out the knowledge of where they were, of who they were.

There was nothing but pain. Just like when they’d been shot.

Was I shot?

Sam writhed against the cool, hard floor, twisting against the pain, trying desperately to push it away, to breathe. They felt hands on them, in their hair, on their shoulders, pushing them up and leaning them back against something. Blonde hair flashed before them, and dark skin, and hazel eyes, a kaleidoscope of faces and colors and voices. None of it made sense. They gagged against the pain.

“Sam. Shit.”

“Oh, oh god, Sam… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…!”

“Get my kit. Did they hit their head?”

“U-um, um, I—”

“Edrissa. Did they hit their head when they fell?”

“I d-don’t think so… Zachariah…?”

“Um… n-no. I didn’t… see them hit their head.”

“Okay. Edrissa, go get my kit. You know where it is. My room, under the bed.”

Sam panted as fire poured into their arm. They grasped at it and sobbed against the hard surface they leaned against. They blinked their eyes open – when did they close? – and found Finn. Their face was drawn, lines carved around their eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there… before. Before…

“F-Finn,” they croaked. Tears were wet on their cheeks. “Finn…”

“I’m here, Sam. You just hurt your arm. You’re alright. Can you—”

Sam sobbed and leaned their head back against the wall behind them, shivering against the cold that crept into their body while their arm blazed with agony.

Colleen wanted their pain, and she took it, every day.

“F-Finn, Finn, can you fix it, please, please…?” Sam’s eyes streamed with tears.

“Working on it,” Finn mumbled.

Finn was given ten minutes to fix them up, then they’d be dragged back to their own cell to be chained to the wall again.

A guard knelt beside Finn, wearing only a t-shirt and pants, no vest, no belt, no knife, no gun. Sam blinked their confusion and turned their head away.

This one hasn’t hurt me yet, but he will.

Finn looked over their shoulder at someone and pulled their kit to their side. Sam looked at Finn, only at Finn, desperate and sick and sobbing with the pain.

Finn gently pulled Sam’s sleeve up to reveal the wound on their arm. They shot me. The guards shot me. Please, Finn, please please fix it before they take you away and chain me to the wall again… Their hand drifted up and they reached for the collar around their neck. Their fingers brushed bare skin. They shivered.

Sam groaned as Finn pushed gently against Sam’s arm, their fingers sure and light as they moved.

“Don’t feel any breaks. You may have torn something inside.” Finn’s voice was rough as sandpaper.

“P-please, Finn,” Sam begged, arching back against the cold cement wall behind them. “Pl-please, please, please, please make it numb again, please, Finn, give me something to make it numb again…” Their tongue stuttered over the words. Their lips were numb.

Finn blanched where they crouched in front of Sam. “Wh-what?” they breathed.

“M-make my hand numb again, please…”

Finn’s hand trembled on Sam’s shoulder. “Make your… your hand…”

The guard kneeling beside Finn looked away. He had a nice face. He was waiting for Finn to finish fixing Sam up, giving them time, instead of laughing from outside the bars of the cell door. He was giving Finn time to fix Sam before he dragged Finn away, to be chained again, so Sam would have to listen to the sounds of their family sobbing while they shuddered with pain…

Finn still stared at Sam with a horrified expression on their face. Sam blinked tears out of their eyes and their vision cleared, still fuzzy at the edges, still spinning around them, colors and light pressing down into their eyes, against their skin, so bright for the cold, dim gray of their cell.

As they cast their gaze around the room – it was unfamiliar, but then, most of the rooms in this house were – their heart stuttered and sank in their chest. A bitter curl of terror twisted in their stomach, and they heaved forward with a desperate sob.

In the doorway of the room stood Gavin Stormbeck.

∴

Isaac heard the crash, and that made him look up towards the house where he sat outside, Gavin beside him, just being together in the sun.

He heard the scream that came after, and that made him leap to his feet.

Gavin was up, too, in an instant.

The breeze played with the hair at the back of Isaac’s neck, and he shivered in the warm afternoon sun as he stumbled forward, not even aware that he was moving, only aware that he had to go find Sam – because he knew it was Sam, he shuddered to realize that he’d recognize the sound of their screaming anywhere – and stop whatever it was that was hurting them. The long grass swished under his feet as he rushed to the back door, the grass that Edrissa had asked Gray not to cut, because it was so nice to lay on, so nice to see the imprints of where the family was lying after they got up—

Isaac threw the back door open and rushed in, Gavin right on his heels. He dashed through the laundry room and skidded to a stop on the wood floor of the kitchen as he took in the scene in front of him.

The floor was absolutely covered in what looked like whipped cream. It looked like an explosion had gone off. Shards of a bowl littered the floor. Blood was smeared on the floor in a trail that led to—

Just as he saw Sam, they turned their head and looked up at him. Their eyes widened in what looked like terror when they saw him.

No, not him. When they saw Gavin.

“P-please,” Sam whispered, not even seeming to register Finn’s touch now.

Isaac was across the room in an instant. “Sam,” he croaked, reaching out to touch their leg before he realized their pant leg was stained with a thin line of blood just below their knee. “Oh, shit. Sam…?”

“We were just playing,” Edrissa whimpered, standing back and covering her mouth with her hands. Zachariah stood beside her, his hands held out as if he didn’t know whether to help – or didn’t know whether he could help at all. “We were just… it was an accident…”

“Finn,” Isaac snapped. “What… what’s wrong? What—”

“I don’t know,” Finn rasped, their hands outstretched towards Sam, shaking. “They… Sam, is your hand… numb…?”

Isaac’s heart plummeted.

“Please,” Sam whimpered. “Please, please, G-Gavin, no…”

Isaac threw a glance over his shoulder and saw Gavin standing in the doorway with tears standing in his eyes and a look of horror on his face.

“Gavin, you don’t… you d-don’t have to, Gavin… I’ll… I’ll t-tell… please, no…”

“Oh, no, oh no, no, no, no…” Gavin whimpered softly. “Oh… Sam…”

Isaac stood and held a hand out to Gavin. “Gavin, just… maybe wait outside, I’ll—”

“Isaac!” Sam cried, arching back against the cabinets. “Isaac, don’t go, please!”

“I… c-can’t find any, um, s-signs of, of new injury,” Finn said numbly, crouched in front of Sam, their eyes wide. “But… Sam, has your hand b-been numb for… a wh-while?”

“It’s…” Sam sniffled and clutched their arm, their gaze still fixed on Gavin. “It’s been, um, for a while…”

“What?” Finn gasped.

“Finn,” Isaac said with a shaking voice, crouching again and reaching out with shaking hands. He was hollow on the inside, where there was nothing but endless space for Sam’s pain. “What’s wrong with them? What happened?”

“Um…” Finn blinked and swallowed hard, looking around as if they’d forgotten what they were doing. “Um… they f-fell. I think… hurt their arm again. And—”

“S-Sam,” he said, and there was an edge to his voice that he couldn’t smooth out. “Sam, where are you right now? Are y-you… in… C-Colleen’s house?”

“Isaac,” Sam sobbed, and clutched at their arm. “Isaac, please…”

“You’re safe, Sam,” Isaac said. His vision was blurred. He blinked, and tears streamed down his cheeks. His sibling… Sam was suffering again, and it was his—

It was his—

It was his fault.

He shoved the thought away. This is not about me. This is so far away from being about me.

“Finn,” he rasped. His throat was dry. “Can you…? For the pain, is there something—”

“Vicodin won’t do shit for a while,” Finn snapped. “But it’s what I have.” They already had the bottle out and dumped a pill out into their palm. “I’ll get water. You get them… get them back. Okay? You get them back.” The words were twisted as Finn spat them between their teeth. They stumbled to their feet and stepped back, avoiding the shards of broken bowl.

Isaac swallowed his despair, his guilt. “Sam,” he said softly, cradling their face and turning their head towards him. “Sam, look at me.”

“I-Isaac,” Sam sobbed. “Isaac… he… please, make it stop, I’ll do anything…”

“Shh,” Isaac murmured. He kept their head turned away from the doorway. He could see Gavin still there, in the corner of his eye – Gray was at his side now, gently rubbing his shoulder and pulling him towards the living room. Gavin didn’t move. He was rooted to the spot.

Isaac glanced at Finn. They were by his side again, their shoes squishing in the whipped cream. They crouched in front of Sam.

“Open up, Sam,” they grumbled, and held the pill to Sam’s lips.

“P-please—”

“This will help,” Finn said, and Isaac’s stomach twisted at the pain in their voice.

“Sam,” he said softly, as Finn tapped the pill against Sam’s lips. Sam obediently opened their mouth, the sobs pouring out from between their lips, and took the pill. They held their breath as Finn tipped the glass of water against their lips and helped them take a drink. As the pill went down, Sam gasped and looked to Isaac again.

Isaac wet his lips. “You’re in the north house. Look around and let’s say things we see. Alright? Deep breaths.”

“Isaac,” Sam sobbed, tears rolling down their cheeks. They winced as Finn pulled their pant leg up to check the cut there, but kept their eyes on Isaac. Isaac could have been the only person in the room. The only person in the world. “Please, it hurts…”

“Finn’s helping you,” Isaac murmured. “Take a deep breath, Sam.” He drew in a slow, deep breath, and that pushed away the shroud of numbness he’d cast over his mind as soon as he heard Sam’s scream. Something in him shifted, moved, and his hand tightened on Sam’s leg.

“This won’t need stitches,” Finn mumbled. “Neither will, not the leg or the foot.”

Isaac glanced down. Finn was gently wiping the cut on Sam’s leg with alcohol. They made quick work of cleaning and bandaging Sam’s leg, then their foot, and slumped back, their eyes red-rimmed and unfocused.

Sam panted as they leaned their head back against the cabinets. “Isaac,” they whimpered. “Why… Isaac…” They blinked rapidly and cast their gaze around the room – Isaac noted how Sam’s eyes skipped over Zachariah and lingered on Gavin.

“Deep breath, Sam,” Isaac said, taking both their hands in his now, being careful of their injured arm. “Deep breath. Finn just gave you some medication that should h-help. And… look around, Sam, tell me what you see?”

“I… I s-see…” Sam coughed and whined softly against the pain. “K-kitchen?” Their eyebrows pulled together. “Why… in the kitchen?”

“You’re north, Sam,” Isaac said heavily. “Do you remember…? We made it north. We’ve been north for… a-a month.” They drew in a slow, quavering breath, and he nodded. “There you go, Sam. There you go. Good. Take another deep breath, there you go. Are you with me?”

Sam’s gaze finally returned to Isaac’s. Their lips trembled, and they nodded. “Isaac…” They pulled their hands out of his grasp and gently touched their right hand with their left, their fingers brushing against the skin from front to back and front again… as if feeling the sensation on one side, and the numbness on the other.

“Th-that medication is gonna take a bit longer to kick in,” Finn said flatly. “But… Sam, it looks like the pain is… is a little… better?” The lines on their face looked deeper than they ever had been. “Sam… your hand… wh-why didn’t you… tell me?”

Sam swallowed hard and wrapped their uninjured hand around their other wrist. “Um… I… I w-was hoping it would… g-get better on its own.”

Finn let out a wordless groan and leaned forward, burying their face in their hands.

Sam bit their lip and whimpered. “F-Finn…”

“We can talk about it later,” Finn whispered. They raised their head. Their eyes were haunted, faded, swimming with tears.

Sam nodded weakly. They raised their gaze to Gavin. He was still standing in the doorway. Isaac doubted anything could have moved him from that spot.

“Gavin,” Sam murmured, their lip trembling. Their face was clouded with… with guilt, why would Sam ever feel guilty? It wasn’t their fault, it was Isaac’s, it was Isaac’s…

He forced down his tears, and forced down the darkness that had settled in his chest again. I never helped them by thinking that.

Sam cleared their throat. “Gavin, I’m s-sorry…”

“N-no,” he stammered as he fell forward a step. He kicked a piece of bowl and it skittered across the floor. He didn’t seem to notice. “Sam… you don’t ha-have to… apologize, Sam, it’s, it’s okay…”

“I know… you’re not going to hurt me,” Sam rasped, trembling from head to toe. They drew in another breath and whined softly, clutching their arm. “And I’m… I’m… sorry.” They blinked and looked at the ceiling, before their gaze drifted to where Edrissa and Zachariah stood. “I… I’m sorry. It was just… a-a game—”

“And it still is,” Gray said from Gavin’s side. “It was a game, and it was fun, and it was an accident that you got hurt, Sam.” Their mouth made a thin line. “It’s no one’s fault.” They cocked an eyebrow, and threw a painful-looking half-smile at Sam, Edrissa, and Zachariah. “Although, I’m wondering if you knew how much I was looking forward to having some of that whipped cream with the berries from the garden for dessert tonight.”

“I’ll make more,” Edrissa whispered, looking away from Sam for the first time to meet Gray’s gaze.

“And I’ll get a mop,” Gray said. They squeezed Gavin’s shoulder, and then went to the supply closet in the living room. “Isaac, if you could get the large pieces of the bowl? I don’t have shoes on.”

#honor bound 5 #Sam whump #it all goes wroooong #chronic pain tw #permanent injury tw #flashbacks tw #dissociation tw #past torture #past captivity #blood tw #pain medication tw #Isaac's self-loathing #the trouple #whumpees misunderstanding the caretaker and thinking they're going to be tortured again is like... my thing

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whump-tr0pes · 4 years

Text

Honor Bound 5 - 3

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Thank you so much to @butwhatifyouwrite for helping me finally get this out. Jesus, this one was stuck. @eatyourdamnpears thank you for all your ideas for this one. You both are lovely.

Content warning: pain medication mention, mild imagined spice, chronic pain, permanent injury

As the kettle came to a boil, Zachariah whistled softly, matching the tone the kettle was making. Edrissa snatched up a potholder and turned off the burner as she took the kettle off the stove. As Sam turned to get a mug for Ellis from the cabinet, Zachariah was already there, pulling one down.

How does he already know the kitchen so well? It took me a week to—

I guess he’s been here a week. Huh.

Sam’s mind spun. It didn’t feel like it had been a week. It felt as if Zachariah had arrived a month ago – or yesterday.

Time was strange up here. Sam didn’t need the pain medication as much anymore, so their mind was usually clear, able to think past the pills and the pain. They spent as much time outside as they could. Edrissa seemed to be constantly pushing them outside, urging them out into the fresh air – and then coming with them, lacing her fingers through theirs, walking the lake and pulling them behind trees for furtive kisses. No one was up here to see, but Sam liked it.

Sam liked everything about it up here. The air was cool and crisp, and the sun rose so early, warming their skin with its rays, seeming to melt the jagged edges of their pain. At night, they slept in a warm, soft bed, with the lights off, so unlike the cold, hard concrete and constant hum of the fluorescent light that lit their cell in Colleen Stormbeck’s house. They could stand to go without the sling sometimes, gently moving their arm in guided motions with Finn’s help, slowly bringing the strength back.

They didn’t think about how they still couldn’t move the fingers on their right hand, and couldn’t feel a good deal of their arm. They were getting stronger. And they were safe.

Sam turned to the fridge to reach for the milk – and Zachariah was already there, too, pulling out the bottle that they would bring to Burmingham for refilling once they ran out. For a moment, Sam felt a prickle of irritation, a wash of frustration. They bit their lip and caught Zachariah’s gaze.

“I can do that,” they said softly, trying so, so hard to keep the hurt out of their voice. They made themself smile. “You don’t have to do everything.”

Zachariah’s eyes went wide and he pressed his lips into a line. Edrissa took the milk out of his hand, outstretched and frozen in front of him. He stared at the floor and swallowed loudly.

“S-sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m not trying to… to do everything. I know you can do it. I just…” He slowly retracted his hand and curled it into a fist. “I just want to… to help. To help you.”

Zachariah raised his gaze to Sam, and Sam felt a flutter in their stomach at the light brown eyes meeting theirs. He couldn’t be much older than they were. They remembered, faintly, in flashes, him carrying them down the stairs from the Stormbeck house, how he’d screamed just before Sam was shot. And he was…

He was pretty.

Sam shook their head and cleared their throat. “Um. Oh. Thank you.”

Zachariah wrapped his arms around his chest. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, um… to do stuff for you. I just want to help.”

Sam could hear the meaning under the words: I just want to make things right.

Sam glanced at Edrissa where she stood behind Zachariah, the cup of tea held tight in her hand. She was staring at Zachariah with an unreadable expression on her face. She blinked and walked out of the kitchen with the tea. Ellis had returned from the bathroom, looking pale, their skin gleaming with a thin layer of sweat, the circles under their eyes darker than before. They took the tea with a grateful glance at Edrissa. Finn rubbed distracted circles into their back as Gray stared at the floor, their face torn between expressions of joy and worry. Ellis held the cup to their lips. They didn’t take a sip.

Sam chewed their lip and turned back to the kitchen. Zachariah was staring over the counter into the living room, his eyes fixed on Edrissa and Ellis.

“H-how did you do it?” he whispered.

Sam blinked. “What?”

Zachariah’s throat worked and he brought tear-filled eyes to theirs. “How did you… survive?”

A twinge of pain shot down Sam’s arm, lighting up the inside of their arm, their forearm, their hand, with fire. They hissed in a breath through their teeth and clutched at the wound with their left hand. It didn’t help.

This was the only time they could feel those parts of their arm anymore: when the pain burst through them, when it felt like their arm was being held down in a pot of boiling water. Sam slowly pushed a breath out through their lips. The pain was already fading, like it always did. The feeling of a shock of electricity was ebbing away, leaving the inside of their forearm, and the palm of their hand, numb once again. Sam shivered at the sudden dampness of their skin. They threw a glance into the living room, but Finn was looking at Ellis with their near-perpetual look of worry. Sam breathed out a meager sigh of relief.

They raised their gaze to Zachariah. He was staring back at them, his gaze fixed on their arm, his hands slightly outstretched.

“Are… are you alright?” he rasped.

“Y-yeah,” Sam breathed, and pulled their hand away from the wound.

“Is that…?” Zachariah wet his lips and drew in a deep breath. “I c-can’t believe that bullet didn’t kill you. I thought…” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

“I was very lucky,” Sam said tightly. Zachariah opened his eyes to look at them. “Both with where the bullet hit me… and the fact that I had Finn.” They looked into the living room and watched as Finn laced their fingers through Ellis’s and squeezed.

Edrissa appeared at their side, and they jumped slightly. The motion sent a wave of pain through their arm – but it wasn’t unbearable. It didn’t feel like a knife going through their flesh, or a flame held against their skin. It was a pinch of soreness. Nothing more. They heaved a sigh of relief.

Edrissa brushed her lips against Sam’s cheek and squeezed their hand once before she turned and went to the fridge. Sam’s stomach burned at how Zachariah watched them both with reddened cheeks. Their gaze moved over him, lingering on his shoulders as he crossed his arms over his chest, on the dark, bruise-like circles under his eyes that had only just begun to fade.

“Hey, Sam?” Edrissa said from the fridge.

Sam blinked. They glanced at Edrissa where she stood framed by the light from the fridge, the edges of her hair lit up like they were on fire. There was a warm, fluttery feeling in their chest as she smiled at them and beckoned them over.

“Come help me with this,” she said with a grin. Her lips were pressed flat, her eyes lit with a mischievous gleam. They were across the kitchen before they realized their legs were moving. Just as they drew to her side, their hand already outstretched to rest gently on her arm, she whirled and dabbed a bit of whipped cream onto the tip of their nose.

Edrissa leaped away with a squeak as Sam stood frozen beside the fridge, blinking slowly, letting their mind catch up with what just happened. The whipped cream was cold on their skin. They stuck out their tongue and licked at it, savoring the sweetness on their tongue.

Finally, they turned and fixed Edrissa with a playful glare. She giggled and held her hands to her mouth, shuffling backwards. Sam turned and glanced into the fridge, eyeing the large ceramic bowl of whipped cream, partially covered by the plate Edrissa had pushed aside. They scooped their left hand in and turned with their entire hand covered in whipped cream.

Edrissa shrieked and dashed to the other side of the kitchen, throwing open cabinets, searching for her own weapon. She finally emerged with a large baking sheet that she held out in front of her like a shield.

Zachariah’s eyes darted between the two of them, his hands held out as if he was going to try to ward both of them off.

Sam grinned. They could see the whipped cream still on their nose at the edge of their vision. They lunged forward and drew a stripe of whipped cream across Zachariah’s cheek.

As they stumbled back, they were aware of Edrissa’s eyes on them, how her gaze moved between him and them. They flushed as Zachariah slowly, distractedly wiped the whipped cream from his face, and then licked his fingers clean.

Everyone was still for a moment.

Then, Sam turned and snatched the heavy bowl of whipped cream from the fridge. Their left hand made smears of cream on the outside of the bowl. They plunged their right hand in, shivering at how one side of their fingers could feel the cool, soft, sticky texture of it, and the other side felt nothing at all.

Edrissa let out a high-pitched peal of laughter and darted behind Zachariah for protection. His eyes went wide as she leapt onto his back and wound her arms around his neck.

“Get the whipped cream!” she cried, and held the baking sheet out in front of them both.

Sam lunged forward and swiped weakly at Edrissa with their whipped-cream-covered hand. Zachariah jumped away, just as Edrissa brought up the baking sheet to block. Sam realized with a start that they could move their injured arm without agony, without the stab of pain that had gripped them over and over since they’d arrived north. Their arm was weak, and Sam could feel the strain of muscles that hadn’t been used in over a month, but they could move it.

“Hey, no fair!” they said with a laugh. “I can barely move my arm and there are two of you!”

“You have a whole bowl of whipped cream,” Zachariah said tentatively, standing like a deer in the headlights with Edrissa hanging on his back.

Sam chewed their lip as they regarded the two, a subtle heat moving under their skin as their gaze moved over them both. Edrissa’s light blonde hair was wild around her face, her cheeks pink, her eyes sparkling with something Sam had caught glimpses of on their walks together. Zachariah’s eyes caught Sam’s, and his muscles moved under the shirt he was wearing. He scooped his hands under Edrissa’s legs to hold her up until she wrapped them tightly around his waist.

Sam’s cheeks flushed as they imagined, just for a moment, how it might feel to be between them, to feel all their hands on them at once, kissing Edrissa… and maybe going a bit further than that with Zachariah…

Sam grinned. It seemed like Edrissa was maybe getting that idea, too.

They walked to the opposite side of the kitchen and put the bowl down on the counter – but not before they dipped their left hand in again, and emerged with a gigantic handful of whipped cream.

“Come and get it,” Sam said with a smile.

“Oh, we will,” Edrissa said, her eyebrows pulled together in a look that Sam figured was supposed to be menacing. On her, it just looked goofy, and they just longed to kiss her until she was laughing again.

Zachariah took a slow, plodding step forward, his lips pulled into a smile. “Better watch out, Sam,” he said, grinning.

“Or what?” Sam shot back, also taking a step forward, the handful of whipped cream held out threateningly in front of them.

“Or else,” Edrissa said. Zachariah took another step forward.

“You’ll never take me alive!” Sam yelled, holding their hand aloft. They charged at Edrissa and Zachariah.

“Nooooo!” Edrissa cried, holding out the baking sheet and blocking Sam’s first attempt. Zachariah jumped back and dodged the second, as Sam swiped at his nose. Sam was backing the two of them into a corner. Heat curled in their chest as they thought about what they might get to do when they won.

“Zachariah!” Edrissa said, brandishing the baking sheet. “Get the whipped cream!”

Zachariah leapt past Sam, just escaping the whipped cream on their hand. He skidded to a stop on the wood floor and bumped into the counter. Edrissa leaned down and snatched up the bowl of whipped cream, triumphantly holding it aloft with both hands.

“I got it!” she shrieked. Sam lunged forward, both arms outstretched, ready to absolutely cover the two of them in whipped cream.

Zachariah moved to the side. Edrissa lurched sideways, not able to catch herself with her hands busy holding up the bowl. The bowl slipped from her hands.

As if in slow motion, Sam watched the bowl tumble to the floor, a little dollop of cream spilling over the side in a wave. The bowl shattered against the floor.

Continued here

#honor bound 5 #fluff #flirting #pain medication tw #mild spice tw #chronic pain tw #permanent injury tw #Zachariah: a boy who needs a nap #Sam/Edrissa/Zachariah #Zachariah is a snacc and Sam is hungry #the throuple #food fight #past captivity #this god this chapter is finally done jesus christ #I've never had so much trouble with a chapter before

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whump-tr0pes · 4 years

Text

HB4-34/Whumptober day 15

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, and Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Content warning: homelessness, offscreen parental death, children’s reactions to parental death, child lashing out at a sibling, minor separated from caretaker, dissoci@tion, missing person

The town hall was absolutely packed with people. Isaac had always thought the hall strangely large for a town that had such scant traffic through, but now… he understood.

It was a surge day, according to Schiester. He’d told Gray and Isaac over and over that afternoon that he was grateful for their help. Gray was with Schiester now, processing the applications the citizens of Crayton had sent in to become temporary homes for the refugees.

As Isaac’s gaze moved over the fifty or so people crowded into the atrium, milling about, looking for loved ones and shouting across the wide space, his stomach churned. These people, every single one, were refugees from the chaos that had risen up in the wake of Colleen Stormbeck’s death. They’d arrived this morning, a strange caravan of two decrepit school buses full of people.

Isaac started as a man all but appeared in front of him, herding his three children close to the table that held the paperwork Isaac had this morning been shown to fill out. The man’s eyes were wild, red from lack of sleep or crying. Or both, probably. His arms encircled his children and pushed them towards Isaac. Underneath the bone-deep exhaustion that radiated off him in waves, Isaac could see a tenuous disbelief. He knew that look so well. He knew he’d worn it many times.

We made it, the look said. I kept them safe.

Isaac clenched his jaw and picked up the pen.

“We’ll start with you,” he said to the man, his voice low and carrying over the crowd. “What’s your name?”

“T-Thomas Koran.” The man wet his lips and swayed in place.

Isaac wrote it down. His hand was already cramping. He couldn’t remember the last time he wrote this much at once, and he’d only checked in two families and a loner so far. “Date of birth?”

“Um…” The man’s eyes went blank, his jaw opening slowly. “Fuck. Why don’t I… what…?” He scrubbed his face with his hand. He had dried blood under his fingernails. “Oh! Fuck, why did I forget my own birthday? Jesus—” The man went rigid and threw a nervous look at his children.

The oldest one, with the man’s deep brown skin but someone else’s hazel eyes, rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “You just said ‘fuck’, dad,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t get weird when you say ‘Jesus.’”

Isaac had to suppress a half-smile. The kid looked like he was thirteen, maybe fourteen, and wore a look of bored hostility like a mask. Isaac shook his head and glanced at the next line. “That’s okay. We can skip it. This is just a preliminary screening. When you get checked in for placement then—”

“Oh, no, it’s November eleventh, 1992,” Thomas said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Sorry. I remembered.”

Isaac carefully wrote it down. “Great. Town of origin?”

Thomas glanced up at Isaac, and his eyes widened just a fraction. “Oh. We’ve been, um… we’ve been pretty, ah, m-mobile.”

“We’re homeless!” said the little girl who seemed glued to the man’s side. She looked like she was four or five, with her thick black hair up in a messy ponytail that reminded Isaac of Edrissa’s haphazard buns on the top of her head. Distantly, he wondered if either style was intentional.

Thomas blushed and stared at the wooden table in front of Isaac, marred with nicks and dents from years of heavy use. He chewed his lip and wouldn’t meet Isaac’s gaze.

“Y-yeah,” he whispered. “We’re homeless.”

“That’s okay,” Isaac said quickly, and made the note. “A lot of people who come through are. My family was a mobile one, too, before we came here.” He offered Thomas an awkward half-smile.

Thomas smiled back, his shoulders drooping. “Oh,” he said, and distractedly rubbed his little girl’s back. “That’s… that’s good.”

The third child, a girl looking not much older than the youngest, watched Isaac with wary eyes from the circle of her father’s arms. She tugged at her father’s shirt and loudly whispered, “Who’s that?”

“That’s the man who’s helping us get checked in, honey,” Thomas said, a thin smile on his lips.

“My name is Kira!” the youngest one said, pulling away from her father and standing right up against the table.

“Oh.” Isaac’s hand drifted down to the next section and scribbled it in.

“I’m four!” she said, holding up a hand with four little fingers splayed wide.

Isaac’s lips quirked into a smile. “Um… wow!” he said stiffly, suddenly unsure of what to say next.

“Wait your turn, Kira,” Thomas said heavily, and took her hand, pulling her away from the table.

“Sorry about her,” the boy said, rolling his eyes again. “She’s precocious.” The boy said it with such seriousness that Isaac had to laugh, just a little. “I’m Alec. It’s nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand at Isaac.

Isaac wiped his hand on his pants, grimacing from how damp his palm was. “Isaac,” he said, and took Alec’s hand. The boy shook it once, his hand trembling from how tight he was squeezing. He pulled back and crossed his arms over his chest.

Thomas blinked and scrubbed his face with his hand. “What, what other questions…?”

Isaac glanced at the sheet, and scribbled in Alec’s name below Kira’s. “Occupation?”

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m trained as a welder,” he said with a shrug. “But I haven’t… it’s been a while since…”

“Who did you used to work for?” Isaac said, moving down the list of questions.

“Um…” Thomas blinked again, slowly. Isaac wondered when the last time was that he got some sleep. “My last job was with Synchrony Building… they build, um, built skyscrapers…”

Isaac wrote it down. Vaguely, he wondered what this had to do with anything, but he shook his head. I didn’t write the form.

“Last question for you,” Isaac said, his shoulders tensing as he did. “Do you have any ties to the Stormbeck, Anderson, Torr, or Wilson syndicates?”

Thomas swallowed and stared at Isaac. “What… ties? What do you mean?”

“Um…” Isaac wet his lips. “Familial ties, history of employment, that kind of thing.”

“No,” Thomas rasped. “I… I’ve spent the past… three years staying as far away from those bastards…” His face went red, and his hand tightened around his daughter’s. “I… I have nothing to do with…”

“Okay,” Isaac said quickly, placating. “I’m sorry. I have to ask everyone.”

Thomas blew out a slow breath through his nose, his eyes sliding shut. “Okay. What… what else do you need?”

“Just their names and birthdays,” Isaac said, gesturing to the children with his pen.

“I’m four!” Kira said again, holding up her hand with four fingers up.

“What’s your birthday?” Isaac said.

“November!” she said with a grin.

Isaac blinked. “Okay, what else?”

Kira looked up at her father, her eyebrows drawn together.

“Your birthday is N-November thirteenth, 2025, sweetheart,” Thomas said gently. A shiver rolled over Isaac’s shoulders. “Two days after mine.” Thomas smiled down at her.

Isaac wrote it down. “And… Alec? What’s your date of birth?”

“August fifteenth, 2015,” he said, looking at the paper Isaac was writing on.

Isaac looked up at the last girl. “What’s your name and date of birth?” he said, more sharply than he meant. The girl cringed back against her father and murmured something Isaac couldn’t hear.

“Hm?” He leaned forward. The girl looked up at her father, then back at Isaac, fixing him with her wide hazel eyes. Just like her brother’s, and her sister’s.

“T-Trisha,” she murmured, and blushed furiously. She turned her face against her father’s side.

Isaac wrote it down. “And your date of birth?”

When Trisha turned her face to look at Isaac, tears were welling in her eyes. Isaac leaned back, embarrassed and horrified and so confused. His mouth bobbed open and closed.

What did I do wrong?

“It’s February ninth, 2023,” Thomas said, and wrapped his arm tight around Trisha, crushing her against his side. “S-sorry,” he mumbled. “Ever since… we um… she’s been…”

Trisha’s lower lip wobbled and she shoved her face against Thomas’s shirt. She whimpered and began to cry.

Isaac rocked forward, horror flipping immediately to protective concern. He paused as Thomas gently stroked her hair and let her take hitched sobs against his shirt. Tears shone in his eyes.

“That’s…” Isaac cleared his throat. “That’s all I needed. Um, the mayor should be down the hall with the other volunteers to assign your… t-temporary living situations. Is there anything—”

“Daddy, when’s mommy coming?” Kira said, her little arms stretching as far around both of Thomas’s legs as she could reach.

Isaac froze. Thomas’s face fell, devastation flashing across it. He blinked, and lifted his chin, staring up at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath. Isaac glanced at Alec and saw him doing the same thing, his face twisted with rage and grief. Trisha cried harder against Thomas.

“I told you, sweetie,” Thomas croaked, forcing a twisted smile across his face. “Mommy isn’t coming.”

Isaac felt something tear in his chest. The room blurred, and his eyes burned with sudden tears.

“But why?” Kira said, tilting her head so far back to look at Thomas that she started to bend backwards. “Where is she?”

“Sh-she’s dead, Kira,” Alec snapped, dashing tears from his eyes. “She’s never coming back.”

Kira flinched back from the venom in her brother’s tone. Her face twisted and she burst into tears. Alec sniffed back his own, his arms squeezing his chest.

Thomas sagged and drew his arms around his children again. Alec shrugged off his father’s arm and took a step back, his face turned away.

Isaac felt the crushing tide of their grief as Thomas forced back his tears. He raised his eyes to Isaac, desperate sorrow and pain shining darkly in his eyes. “Where…?”

Isaac shook himself and pointed to his left, towards the hall. “That way,” he said, his voice breaking. “They’ll assign you homes until a permanent…” Isaac trailed off. The man’s gaze was far away, and Isaac wasn’t sure if Thomas could even hear him. “You’ll be safe,” he said, weakly.

Thomas’s eyes flicked up and met Isaac’s, a weak blaze of gratitude burning in them. “Thank you,” Thomas rasped, and herded his children down the hall.

No one else was in line behind them. Isaac glanced around the atrium, his shoulders sagging. How many of these new refugees had stories like that? How many of them were leaving behind the bodies of their loved ones, desperately grasping for the only chance at safety they had?

Someone on the steps caught Isaac’s eye.

They were just a kid, sitting on the staircase leading upstairs, up high enough that their head was visible over the crowd. They sagged against the railing, their eyes open and sightless, tears streaming down their face. They looked like they were as old as Thomas’s oldest kid, maybe a little older. Isaac made his way out from behind the wooden table and pushed through the crowd, slowly crossing the atrium to them.

He reached the bottom of the stairs. The kid didn’t look at him. Barely even blinked. Isaac couldn’t tell if they were looking at the crowd, or lost within their own mind.

“Ah… hey, kid?” he said, placing his foot on the lowest step. They didn’t stir. He climbed the first step, then the second. “Kid?”

The kid started and stared at Isaac. They blinked slowly. “Y-yeah?”

“Hey. You alright?”

“I’m…” The kid swallowed thickly. “I’m looking for my brother. Caleb.”

“Okay…” Isaac climbed another step. “What’s your name?”

“A-Aryn.”

“Aryn,” Isaac said. “Nice to meet you. When did you—”

“I don’t know where my brother is,” Aryn said softly, their eyes red and swollen. “I don’t… don’t know where, where Caleb is…” They shuddered and buried their face in their hands.

“When did you last see him?” Isaac asked, his stomach sinking.

“This morning,” Aryn sobbed into their hands. “I, I s-saw him this morning, I’m positive. But I… I thought… I could have sworn I saw him this morning. He was… he was there at our last bathroom break, and that was this morning a few hours out of here… I… but I thought… I didn’t mean to, I fell asleep and, and when I woke up we were, were here and he wasn’t here and… I thought… shit, I was just so tired and I… I didn’t mean to lose track of him…”

“Okay, how old is he?” Isaac said, dread brewing in his chest. Please don’t let it be a kid, please don’t let it be a kid…

“He’s nineteen,” Aryn groaned. “He’s got blond hair like mine, but his eyes are green, not brown. And he’s got a tattoo here.” They gestured to their left shoulder. “It’s a stupid bird. He was wearing…” They ground the heels of their hands into their eyes. “A… a brown shirt, and jeans, and…” They lurched forward with a sob. “I don’t know where he went!”

Isaac carefully climbed the last three steps and sat beside the kid. His hands twisted in front of him, his knuckles almost turning white, as he stared out at the crowd in front of him. Aryn whimpered and heaved another sob.

Isaac draped his arm across their shoulders and rubbed their arm. They shivered and covered their mouth with their hands. Their shoulders shook. Their wails carried over the sound of the crowd. Isaac ran a hand through his hair, forcing down the sharp stab of grief in his chest.

Is this what it’s like to help the refugees? Jesus Christ, I thought I had a rough time of it. I’ve never lost someone like this. I always had someone else that I could stay with, at least.

The kid leaned against Isaac. Isaac squeezed their shoulders.

Gray walked from behind the staircase out into the atrium, towering over most of the refugees. Their head swiveled like they were looking for Isaac.

“Up here,” he said, and they turned. Their face softened when they saw Aryn huddled against his side. A moment later, Daniel Schiester walked in behind them. He followed Gray’s gaze and found Isaac.

Gray tilted their head at Isaac in a silent question. He raised his shoulders, biting down hard on his lip. He glanced at Schiester. “Um…”

“Who’s this?” Gray said gently, their tone pitched low and even, their face open and calm. Isaac felt a pang of jealousy of how easily Gray fell into that role.

“This is Aryn,” Isaac said, gently shaking them. They looked up and looked at Gray and Schiester in turn. “I haven’t checked them in yet. They’re looking for their brother.”

Gray’s eyebrows drew together. “Oh. Did he come with you?”

Isaac rose and eased Aryn up beside him. As they walked down the stairs their body seemed disjointed and numb, as if Aryn was merely coasting by, standing beside themself, instead of driving their own movements. It made Isaac shiver.

“Um…” Aryn wiped their nose. Gray’s arm went around their shoulders on their other side.

“Let me get you checked in,” Gray said, glancing at Isaac. “Isaac, I can take them, if you want.”

“Sure,” Isaac said weakly. He let Gray lead Aryn to the table with the stack of intake forms. Gray picked up a pen and began to fill one out with them.

“It’s hard,” Schiester said, starting Isaac out of his reverie. “Especially seeing the young ones hurting.”

Isaac’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “D-does… does that happen a lot?”

“What, them losing family along the way?” Schiester nodded slowly. “Yes. It’s very frequent. Raids, syndicate checkpoints, bounty hunters, even soiled food can make the journey north very, very hard. Some people we see come through here walk. From what I can gather…” Schiester motioned with his head. “Just about every person here was a walker, before Jess and Trudy picked them up.”

Isaac blinked. “Jess and Trudy?”

“The drivers of the buses that brought them,” Schiester said with a smile. “Those two women picked up every refugee they could find as they made their way north. I’m actually talking to them about making that a regular thing.” Schiester laughed, and the was sound perfectly-pitched, warm and yet mirthless. “I get to meet the most incredible people through this job.”

Isaac shifted uncomfortably. “No, I mean…” He shrugged. “They said they saw him this morning. They were pretty sure. They said they saw him at the rest stop, and then…”

Daniel tilted his head, regarding Isaac with his cold blue eyes. “‘Pretty’ sure?”

“Look, I know sleep deprivation can do some pretty weird shit,” Isaac said, staring at the floor. “I don’t blame them for—”

“Neither do I,” Schiester said, placing a gentle hand on Isaac’s shoulder. He missed the cuts and the cane marks, although they were all almost entirely healed. “I wasn’t trying to imply…” He laughed once, his face pulling into an easy smile. “I apologize. What I was trying to say is, yes, people lose track of the others on their journeys north. People get lost. People die. People get separated during chaotic situations.” Schiester tilted his head, regarding Isaac coolly. “It’s completely possible that he fell behind, and we’ll see him on the next shipment. Stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah,” Isaac said weakly. “Yeah, they have.”

Schiester looked at Isaac for another moment, then squeezed Isaac’s shoulder. “I appreciate your help today, Isaac,” he said, and the hair on the back of Isaac’s neck prickled. He breathed a meager sigh of relief as Schiester released his shoulder. “This is my life’s work. I’m grateful to have the likes of Isaac Moore on my team.”

The words left Isaac feeling… empty. They went through him like air. He swallowed hard.

Schiester turned away. “I have to get back to my part in this, Isaac,” he said, giving Isaac a nod. “If you have any questions, or any more missing to report, please get me.” He turned and walked down the hall.

Isaac watched him go, opening and closing his fist. Finally, he turned back towards the check-in table, where Gray was taking down the info of an older woman, trembling from head to toe. He clenched his jaw and made his way to it, to help with the next refugee.

Continued here

#honor bound 4 #whumptober2020 #no. 19 #survivor's guilt #OC #fic #homelessness tw #parental death tw #anger between siblings tw #family separation tw #dissociation tw #missing person tw #sleep deprivation #Daniel Schiester is such a good person #whoops made myself cry with this one boys

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whump-tr0pes · 4 years

Text

HB4-33/Whumptober day 13

Honor Bound 4 - 33 (Forced To Watch) - @badthingshappenbingo

Requested for Fillis by anon

Thank you to @sableflynn for the flashbacks idea...

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, and Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Content warning: burns, human trafficking/slavery, death thoughts, pain medication mention, gendered slur word used not as an attack to anyone, cutting with a razor (field surgery), blood

Finn touched the bandage on their arm, and even the feather-light pressure sent a spike of pain exploding through the wound on their arm. The brand. They were branded, like a damned animal. Like property. The burn on their arm throbbed like a hot coal was being held there – or a hot branding iron. The skin itched, and the feeling was like fire. They wanted to tear the ruined flesh from their arm, just to get the damned mark off of them.

The urge, still. It was like an unbearable pressure, a compulsion, to look again. To look at the mark that had been seared into them hours ago, marking them as Stormbeck chattel. The others were playthings: there to be used, and hurt, and discarded when Colleen was done with them. The others were bodies for Colleen to break. Finn was exactly what Gavin had said they were, all those months ago: a brain and a pair of hands, and a body to drive it all around. Finn served a purpose. Finn was useful.

At least that’s what the guard had said when they’d dragged them out of their cell and pressed a red-hot piece of iron to their forearm, burning the skin until Finn was sure they’d gone down to the bone.

They stared at the wall and wondered if Ellis was alive. They wondered how long it would take for them to be the only one of their family left. They wondered how long Colleen would keep them after that.

Finn shivered in their shorts and tank top. They looked over the things littering the table in front of them, an old plastic one they’d helped carry from the yard into the bathroom at the back of the house. It wasn’t much: gauze, alcohol, bandages, all looking pristine in the fluorescent light fixed to the ceiling.

They couldn’t bring themself to look at the razor sitting beside the other supplies. They gulped and stared at their hands, twisting their fingers together, squeezing so tightly their knuckles went white. They glanced up at Vera as she walked in and stopped at Ellis’s side.

“Everyone out of the house?” Finn said weakly.

Vera bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah. Sam and Edrissa are out walking the lake, and T-Tori is, um…” She smoothed the pad of her thumb along her jaw, her eyes going distant for just a moment. “Tori is walking down the lane a bit. Just seeing what’s there.”

“Good,” Finn murmured. They blinked slowly. “Gavin?”

“I don’t know where he is,” Vera said with a rush of breath. “He’s not in his room, not in Isaac’s, not anywhere in the house.” She shrugged. “He’s around. He’ll show up again.”

“Once he needs something,” Ellis said tightly. Finn looked down at the floor.

“With Isaac and Gray out, I don’t blame him for wanting some time, um, away,” Finn said, and their gaze drifted to the razor. “He was trapped in the Crayton house for—”

“I don’t want to talk about what Gavin has been through when he’s part of the reason we’re doing this,” Ellis said, tears swimming in their eyes.

The defense rose up in Finn, the words stinging their tongue: Not his fault. He had no choice. He was a prisoner, too. He was tortured, too. He was ready to die for us. Tried to die for us, like Vera said. They met Ellis’s eyes and the words died in their throat.

They never saw any of that. All they saw was white walls and Colleen’s face when she told them I was dead.

“Whatever,” Finn murmured. “He’s around. He’ll come back.”

“Why shouldn’t we make him watch—”

“Ellis, please,” Finn huffed. Their hands shook, and they squeezed them together, hard. “Let’s just… get this done.”

They’d spent all day yesterday looking through the book of emergency medicine Gray had brought them from Crayton. There was plenty of information about how to treat acute burns: remove the thing causing it, remove surrounding clothing and jewelry, dress the burn in sterile gauze, give fluids… was it 20 mL/kg in the first eight hours? Or the first four? They shook their head. Doesn’t matter.

It didn’t matter, because the book didn’t contain any information on how to repair a burn once it had already healed. There was no information on how to reduce scarring, or heal a burn completely.

Simple solution: cut it off. Or, at least, cut enough that the brand was unrecognizable.

I still get to keep the scar.

Vera’s mouth hardened into a line as she stepped forward. Her eyes moved over the little table and the tools that sat on it. Then she raised her gaze to Finn. They shivered at the blankness that flashed through her eyes, for just a moment.

They wet their lips. “Thank you for doing this,” they rasped.

“Of course,” Vera mumbled, her lips trembling. “You’ve done so… so much. For us.”

Finn looked at Ellis where they stood behind the table, their arms crossed over their chest. Finn’s gaze dropped to look at Ellis’s stomach and warmth washed over them. Ellis and I made something beautiful, and it’s right in front of me. Everything Finn wanted, everything that could be, dropped away at that simple truth. Ellis and I made a baby, and it’s already the most beautiful thing in the world. I don’t give a shit if it’s only a few thousand cells right now.

For now, though, they had work to do. Yesterday they found out there was a baby growing inside Ellis. Today they were desperate to get the brand off their skin that put their baby in harm’s way, if they were ever discovered. The thought of it sent a bolt of terror scalding through Finn. Pain flared in the brand like it was fresh.

“Let’s do this,” Finn said, curling their hand into a fist.

Vera swallowed, and the sound filled the bathroom for a moment. Finn shifted forward and laid their right arm out across the table. They turned their palm up to the ceiling and looked at the healed scar on the inside of their forearm. A perfect circle, a little bigger than a robin’s egg. The silhouette of a raven’s head sat in the center, with vines curling around the edges. The Stormbeck family crest, marking Finn as their property. Owned.

“Wh-what does this mean?” Finn sobbed as the guards released them. They slumped to the floor, trembling with shock. “I… what…?” They looked at their arm, at the red, open wound of the burn. They could just make out the shape in the center. Their stomach heaved and they gagged on the smell of burnt flesh. Their burnt flesh.

“What’s it look like?” one of the guards sneered. His hand shot out and closed on Finn’s collar. He jerked them upright. They clawed at the collar and cried out as the movement made the burned skin spike hotter.

“Finn!” Sam screamed weakly. “Leave… leave them alone!”

The guard snorted. “I’d be more worried about yourself, little one,” he said over his shoulder. Finn shuddered as he turned around again to look at Finn. “I would have thought the collars made it pretty fucking clear what you are now, Finn Dunham.”

“Parallel lines, right Finn?” Vera said softly, her finger moving gently over the brand. Her touch over the scar felt distant, as if she was touching them through a layer of cotton. Nerve cells only exist in the dermis layer of the epithelium— “Like this?”

“Yeah,” Finn said, watching her finger move. “Diagonal, like that. I would but a star of life there instead, but…” They laughed tightly, the sound far too loud in the small room. “That seemed a little morbid.”

“Yeah,” Vera said, straightening. She drew herself up to her full height and crossed to the sink against the wall.

“Might be a good idea for you to wash your hands, too, Ellis,” Finn said, keeping their eyes down. “Even if you don’t touch—”

Ellis rushed to the sink and waited their turn to wash up. “Y-yeah, babe,” they whispered. “Whatever you need.”

Vera dried her hands on a paper towel and went to Finn’s side again. She chewed her lip before she finally took a seat in the chair across the table from Finn. Her gaze was fixed on the brand on their arm.

“I wish you had those, um… those rubber gloves. The sterile ones,” she said in a small voice.

Finn snorted. “Yeah, same,” they said, and laughed again so they wouldn’t whimper. “But apparently they’re fucking hard to come by. Gray ordered me some. Crayton should get a shipment in a week or so, but… we’re going to have to volunteer for a while until those are paid off.”

Ellis blew out an irritated breath through their nose. “As if we haven’t paid our debt to fucking society…”

“They can’t just give us free shit forever,” Finn said weakly. They eyed the razor where it sat on the table, resting lightly on a bed of sterile gauze. It glinted in the light, a cold, grey gleam.

“They absolutely can,” Ellis grumbled.

Finn’s eyes slid shut for a moment. This had to happen now, before they pulled back, before they ran like a coward from the razor and from the pain. They were the only one, the only one, that Colleen hadn’t touched. They hadn’t even seen Colleen, after the first night they were taken. They could take a little pain, now. They could take it for their family. For their baby.

But only if it happened right now.

“V-Vera,” they murmured. “Vera—”

“We can try something else,” she said, leaning away and lifting her hands. “We don’t have to—”

“No,” Finn said, and their voice broke. Shame burned on their cheeks. They cleared their throat. “Now. Come on.”

Vera looked at Finn for a long moment, her eyes moving back and forth between theirs. Then she leaned forward and unscrewed the cap from the bottle of alcohol. “Okay,” she said softly. “Let’s do this. Ellis, you want to—”

“Wh-wherever they want me,” Ellis said, tripping over the words. “Anything. Finn, what do you want?”

Finn held out their left hand, and flushed with embarrassment at how badly they were shaking. “Hold my hand?” they said softly. Ellis reached out and laced their fingers through Finn’s. They stood by their side at the table. They both looked to Vera.

Vera poured some alcohol out onto a square of gauze. “You sure you don’t want to take some—”

“Those pills are Sam’s,” Finn said, setting their jaw. “I’m not taking them. They’re recovering from surgery. This is—”

“—cosmetic surgery,” Vera said, an edge to her voice as her mouth twisted in a bitter, lopsided smile. She gently pressed the gauze over the brand and cleaned it, wiping the gauze in widening circles out and out. She dropped the used gauze into the trashcan beside her. Her hands hovered over the table before she finally took the razor into her hands.

“Well, then, make me pretty,” Finn said through their teeth. “I want what I’m paying for.” They laughed, once, and the room fell into a painful silence.

“This is gonna hurt like a bitch,” Vera said finally. Finn raised their gaze to her and she held theirs, the razor held tightly in her hand. “I’m just saying. Like… it’s going to fucking hurt.”

You would know.

Finn nodded. “I know that,” they rasped. “It’s okay. I’m, um… r-ready.”

“Might consider taking a pill after this, then,” Vera mumbled. She gently took Finn’s wrist in one hand and steadied the razor above the brand in the other. “Ready?” she said, and the word fell heavy on Finn’s ears.

“Ready,” they whispered.

Vera took in a deep breath through her nose. She blew it out slowly through her lips and brought the blade of the razor to Finn’s arm.

Finn instantly went rigid as the razor pressed against the brand, cold and sharp. Vera glanced up at them and set her mouth in a hard line. “Don’t pull away,” she croaked, her voice flat and empty.

“S-sorry,” Finn whispered. The hair on their arms stood up as Vera brought the razor to their skin again.

The razor dipped into their skin, and they hissed in a breath. “Fuck.”

“I know,” Vera murmured, and dragged the razor across the brand.

“Aah, shit,” Finn whimpered, turning their head away. Vera cut diagonally across the corner of the brand, a short, thin line of blood. They leaned towards Ellis. Ellis dropped to their knees beside Finn and wrapped their arms around them.

“Sorry,” Vera said softly, as she finished the first line. A bead of blood appeared in the cut.

Finn stared at it, the pain stabbing into their awareness, chasing all their thoughts away. “But… will that…?”

“I can make it deeper,” Vera said, gently turning Finn’s arm to inspect the cut. “But if I make some shallow ones and you pick at them as they heal, it’ll still scar, and it won’t hurt nearly as much.”

“P-picking increases risk of infection,” Finn said dully. The words tasted metallic and bland.

Vera smiled slightly. “Yeah,” she said softly, “But since your genius ass decided to hold off on the meds, I don’t think I’ll be able to cut deep enough for it to scar on its own.”

Finn chewed their lip as they stared at the blood shining a garish red on their arm. “F-Fine,” they said softly. “I’ll do that.”

“It’s still gonna hurt like a bitch, Finn,” Vera said, razor hovering an inch above Finn’s arm.

Finn swallowed against the nausea rising in them. They blew out a steadying breath and forced themself to meet Vera’s eyes. “Ready,” they rasped.

Vera nodded curtly and brought the razor to Finn’s arm again.

Finn shuddered and bit down on a scream as Vera pressed the razor in harder. They buried their face in Ellis’s shoulder and groaned when Vera lifted the blade from their skin.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “The scar tissue is… um… thick, thicker than I thought it would be.”

A slash of fire burned across Finn’s arm. The razor had to have cut through most of the brand. The pain was everywhere, sweeping away every other sensation in Finn’s body. They could no longer feel the cold tile on their feet, or the press of Ellis’s hand in theirs. Their awareness had narrowed to a single, searing pain that seemed to stretch across their entire arm.

They pulled away from Ellis and looked at the cut. Only the slightest sliver of the edge of the brand had been cut through. They whimpered and squeezed their eyes shut.

“You can scream if you want to,” Vera said softly. Finn nodded, and she let the razor press against their skin right beside the cut she had just made. Blood smeared on Finn’s arm.

Again the razor drew a line of fire against Finn’s skin. The scream that tore from them broke with their sob.

“Ahh,” Finn moaned, tears suddenly streaming down their face and mixing with the sweat shining on their skin. “F-fuck. How…” They raised their eyes to Vera. She kept her gaze studiously down, fixed on the blood oozing up from the slits across the brand. “H-how did you and Isaac deal with this?” they whispered.

Vera froze. Her lips trembled and her mouth twisted. “I-Isaac and I didn’t have a choice,” she said weakly. “You do. You’re strong. You’re choosing to take this pain.”

“You said you had to take it so Joseph would trust you,” Finn said, trembling violently.

Vera paused, the razor held tightly in her hand. “Th-that was different,” she whispered.

“But Vera, it—”

“You ready?” she said, tremulously, like she was moments from running from the room. Finn’s hand squeezed into a fist. They nodded.

The razor dipped into their skin again. Finn’s mouth fell open in a desperate scream as their skin split under the blade. The muscles in their arm tensed, pulled, trying to wrench away from Vera’s grip even as Finn desperately tried to hold themself still. It was like holding a hand over a flame, while the pain built and built until their body took over and tried to make it stop.

Finn’s arm jerked. Vera pulled the razor away from Finn’s arm. Her throat worked around a swallow and her eyes brimmed with tears. “Finn,” she said, and darkness moved in her voice. “I need you to not—”

“Ellis,” Finn gasped, shivering, as the pain tore at their mind. “I… I need you to hold me down.”

Ellis pressed their hand to their mouth and muffled a whimper.

“Please, babe,” Finn said, their free hand clamped down on Ellis’s. “Please. This…” Finn blinked tears away and met Ellis’s gaze. They pushed away the dread, the inescapable need to pull away, to cower, to hide. They reached out in their awareness for the tiny bead of light they’d imagined growing in Ellis, and drew upon its strength. “For the family, Ellis,” they rasped. “For… for the baby.”

There was a flicker of hesitation behind Ellis’s eyes, and for a moment, Finn crumpled. We’ll have to ask the others. We’ll have to ask Isaac, and it’ll hurt him. He listened to us all scream and hated himself every single day for it. He can’t hear me scream again. I can’t put this burden on him.

But I can burden the others?

Ellis’s mouth hardened, and their eyes flashed with something that made Finn’s heart thud in their chest. Ellis leaned forward and pinned Finn’s arm down to the table with an iron grip.

“Do it,” they said, with a voice like iron.

Continued here

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