#DysfunctionalHouseholdAU

[thecharlester77]

Kitchen Conflict - DH AU Short

A DH AU short, featuring mainly OG and RC Scientists.

Enjoy!

Kitchen Conflict - DH AU Short

He sighs, placing down his empty coffee cup...He needs another cup. As he rises from his chair, he notices her also jump up from the floor. He glares at her, and she quickly sits back down.

"Just...just give me some time alone, kid," he mutters, turning to go to the kitchen.

Quickly, he heads to the coffee maker and begins pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee. He notices the Nice One at the stove, who is whistling and stirring something or other.

He glances back into the living room, and then back at the kinder version of himself. Deciding he'd prefer the gentle one's company to his kid's, he takes a seat at the kitchen table and sips his coffee.

"Good afternoon," the Nice One greets.

The other raises his hand in a half attempt to return the greeting. He isn't in the mood for conversation.

He takes another sip of his coffee before resting his head on the table. He's so tired...

"Hard day?" the kind one's voice comes from the counter again.

"You could say that," the spiteful one mumbles.

The Sad One hears a pan be laid down, and suddenly notices the Nice One sitting down across from him.

Great.

"Wanna talk about anything?" the kind one asks, his voice angellically calm and soft as usual.

"No."

"Ya sure?"

The melancholy one's head suddenly snaps up. He glares at the kind one.

"Don't you have your 'daughter' to take care of?" he snaps.

"...Whadya mean 'daughter'," the gentle one counters, inserting air quotes as the other did. There's an unfamiliar edge in his voice.

"You know, the one you replaced Evie with."

The Nice One rises from his seat, giving the other a look tinged with contempt.

"I did NOT replace Evie," he mutters, folding his arms.

"Oh sure," the mean one rolls his eyes, "That's why you treat her as your daughter and practically GAVE her Evie's life!"

"I didn't replace Evie! I have TWO daughters, and they are both completely different, unique individuals."

The spiteful one takes a long sip of coffee, glaring at the kinder version of himself.

"You always act like you're better than me," he mutters, his voice low and quiet, "But you made her for the same reason I did."

"Yes, only I abandoned her...Prior purpose once she proved to be sentient," the Nice One snaps.

"Oh!! You mean you gave up on Evie!"

"That's not - I didn't -!" the gentle one's frustrations are beginning to rise. He knows he should step away, but he can't.

"Well you didn't save her either!!" the kind one suddenly retorts.

The two stare at each other in silence.

The kind one glances at the doorway and suddenly claps a hand over his mouth. Both the girls are right in the doorway...

"Ah...kid..."

The Sad One looks up at his child and glares at her.

"I thought I told you to leave me alone?" he snaps.

Before she can stutter out a reply, she notices the girl in the blue hoodie dash out of the room.

"Kid..." the kind one sighs before following after her.

The two Sad ones are left in silence.

"He's not wrong," he mumbles, "I didn't." He turns and glares once again at his kid. "Thanks to you."

"I-I'm sorry," she whispers, tears coming to her eyes.

He groans and rises from his chair, coffee in hand,

"Don't start crying," he mutters, "And don't follow me either."

He heads out of the kitchen and towards the hallway. She remains stood in the kitchen doorway.

"Because of me," she whispers, "...

B-because of me..."

[thecharlester77]

Suspicion - DH AU Short

It’s been a while since I’ve written a short! Here’s another DH one; enjoy!

Suspicion - DH AU Short He quietly enters the kitchen and makes his way over to the coffee machine. Apart from the Sad One, he's completely alone in the kitchen. He places his cup down on the side and reaches for the sugar. As he goes to tip a little into his mug, a small amount of sugar spills on to the counter top. He stares blankly at it, before a sudden surge of frustration grips him. Letting out an angry shout, he violently tips the contense of the entire sugar packet all over the floor. It's not enough. He grabs his mug and smashes it recklessly on the side. Almost as quickly as the rage came, it abandons him, leaving him feeling empty again. He becomes aware of a throbbing pain in his hand...It's bleeding. Silently, he turns to leave, but is immediately confronted by the Nice One. "Sit down," the kind one orders, blocking the kitchen doorway. He expects a rebuttal, but doesn't receive one. Instead, the Scary One silently obeys. Sighing, he scans the mess made on the kitchen counter top. "Look at the mess you've made!" he scolds, "I warned you about breaking things!" "I know where this is going, and I don't want to be a part of it," the spiteful one mutters as he exits the kitchen. The kind one rolls his eyes before turning his attention back to the crazy one...Who is sat there in silence. He suddenly notices blood trickling from a cut on the violent one's hand. "Did you hurt yourself?" he asks, gently taking the other's hand. There is still no reply as the Scary One looks at the floor. He sighs, frustrated by the psychotic one's sulking. "Wait here," he says, "Don't move." Hurriedly, the kind one goes to the living room and grabs a first aid kit off the bookshelf. He then returns to the kitchen, finding the erratic one exactly where he left him. He hadn't moved...As instructed. "...Good," he mumbles, trying not to be unnerved by the Scary One's uncharacteristic obedience, "Give me your hand, please." After a couple of moments, the crazy one holds out his hand. "Thank you." In silence, the kind one quickly disinfects the cut and bandages it. "Alright, your hand's fine now." The Scary One returns his hand to his side, still averting his gaze. "So," the Nice One pulls up a chair and sits across from his crazy-self, "Ya wanna tell me what all that was about?" Still, there is no answer. The Nice One sighs frustratedly. "There's no point in sulking," the kind one snaps, "I just want to know what happened." After another long period of silence, the crazy one looks up. "...I spilled sugar...So then I spilled all the sugar. And broke the cup..." "You did that just because you spilled sugar?" the Nice One sighs, "What are you, five?! I am constantly having to clean up after you and-" he cuts himself off, suddenly noticing how...empty the other looks. He feels a pang of guilt for having snapped at him...He should have known something was wrong sooner. "Are...Are you okay?" The crazy one nods, saying nothing. "Are you sure? You're...being very quiet. This isn't like you." "I'm fine," the other mumbles. "I...I'm going clean up the mess," the kind one sighs, "Stay there, okay?" "...Alright." "Okay, good..." The kind one quickly grabs a broom and heads over to the other side of the kitchen. Being wary of broken pottery, he begins cleaning up the mess. He steals a couple of anxious glances back at the crazy one as he clears up; he's sat quietly at the table, staring vacantly at the wall. The silence feels strange. Especially from him. A couple of minutes later, he returns to his seat opposite the crazy one. "I've finished cleaning up your mess," the Nice One mutters, breaking the awkward silence, "How's your hand?" "Fine," the violent one answers quietly. "Why are you being so quiet?" the kind one asks, "You usually won't shut up." He receives only a shrug in reply. "Is something wrong?" The Scary One eventually looks up from the floor, meeting his calmer-self's eyes. Hesitantly, he nods. "What's wrong?" He quickly looks back at the floor. "If you're not going to tell me what's wrong, I can't do anything a-" "You can't fix it anyway," the psychotic one interjects quietly. "Do...Do you want to talk about anything?" the gentle one asks. "I don't know..." the violent one mumbles. The Nice One sits quietly for a moment, pondering over a solution. "How about we play the question game?" he suggests. "Is that the one with the 'yes' and 'no' questions?" the Scary One asks, still looking at the floor. "Yes," the kind one replies, "Want to try it?" "...Alright." The gentle one smiles a little, glad to be getting somewhere. "Okay. Is something wrong?" he begins. The other nods. "Is that thing bothering you?" "...Yes." "Do...do you feel sick?" he asks, trying to account for the psychotic one's strange silence. "No." the crazy one mutters. "Alright. Are you upset?" "...Maybe..." "Was it an event that upset you?" Slowly, the psychotic one nods. "Did the event happen recently?" "...No...It happened ages ago," he says quietly. "What's upsetting you?" The Scary One stares at the floor. He takes a shaky breath before responding, his voice hardly above a whisper. "I...I j-just-" he chokes on his words as tears well in his eyes. He quickly attempts to wipe them away, sighing angrily. "It's n-nothing," he mutters harshly, "I'm f-fine!" "You don't seem fine." The psychotic one suddenly rises out his chair, glaring down at his calmer-self. "I just miss Evie, okay?!" he snaps, "I miss...I m-miss her." He quickly sinks back down into his chair, his hands covering his face. The Nice One looks back at his crazier-self in silence for a moment...His strange behaviour adds up now. "It's okay," the kind one says softly, "It's okay to grieve." The Scary One doesn't respond to the other's statement as he once again attempts to wipe the tears from his eyes with frustration. "I-I'm fine," he mutters stubbornly. He doesn't want to feel like this...It's embarrassing. It's too abnormal. It's too...weak. "Howzabout I make a cup of coffee for us both?" the gentle one suggests. After receiving a brief nod from his distressed-self, he rises from his chair and makes his way over to the coffee maker. Carefully, he prepares two mugs of coffee and brings them back to the table. "Here ya go, man." He slides one mug over to the crazy one, before taking a sip of his own. "Thanks..." the psychotic one mumbles a reply, but doesn't touch his cup. "Don't you want it?" "I do...Just...gimme a minute, Shoulder Angel..." "Take a couple of deep breaths," the Nice One suggests. Following his sane-self's suggestion, the violent one takes a deep breath before eventually sipping his coffee. "Feel any better?" the kind one asks. "...Kinda..." The gentle one gives a sympathetic smile before setting his cup down. "Do you want to talk things out?" he asks. "No," the crazy one replies, "I...I don't wanna talk. I'm fine. Thanks for the coffee, Shoulder Angel." Before he can even reply, his psychotic-self takes his coffee cup and vacates the kitchen. "People deal with grief in their own ways," he mumbles to himself, "I'm sure he'll be fine..." ....... A couple of hours later, the kind one decides to return to the living room. He's done all the cleaning up he can... Upon entering the room, he spots one of the girls sat on the sofa...It's the Scary One's kid. She appears to be wrapping herself in bandages. "You okay, sweetie?" The child in the dark grey jumps, startled by the Nice One's sudden appearance. "I'm fine," she mutters, returning her attention to her task. "What...what happened, sweetie?" the gentle one persists. "Nothing," she snaps, "It's non of your business!" "Sweetie...You're not in trouble, kid. I just want to know what happened." There's a long moment of silence before she slowly turns around. "I...I tripped," she says, "N-nothing else!" The Nice One gives her a concerned look. She's lying, and he can tell. He doesn't want to push her too far to tell him...but he's worried. "Are you sure, kid?" She nods. "...Okay then, sweetie...If you need me for anything, just come and find me, okay?" "Okay..." He gives a quick nod, and then heads upstairs. He needs to talk to the Scary One; he has a sickening suspicion as to what...really happened. The crazy one looks up from his desk, hearing a knock on the door. "Come in!" Almost immediately, Shoulder Angel enters the room. He doesn't look pleased. "Hey, Shoulder Angel...Something up?" The Nice One forces himself to take a deep breath; he doesn't want to just accuse the other...Even if he is right. "Your kid's in the living room," the gentle one begins, "She's wrapping herself in bandages." "...Is she?" The kind one nods before continuing, "Do you know what happened to her?" "Did you ask her?" the psychotic one countered. "She said she tripped," the Nice One sighs. "Well, there ya go then!" the crazy one gestures dramatically before returning to sit at his desk. He takes a sip of coffee and then recoils, "Bleh! Cold!" He heads for the door. "I'm gonna go get a fresh cup of coffee. Coming, Shoulder Angel?" The gentle one nods and then follows him back downstairs. The two pass the Scary One's child again on the way to the kitchen. "Hey kid," the crazy one greets his kid, "Shoulder Angel told me you tripped?" The kid in the dark grey nods slowly, continuing to bandage her arm. "Ya gotta be more careful, sweetheart," he adds with a small grin. "Yep," she mutters. The two men then carry on to the kitchen. "Gonna be careful with the sugar this time?" the kind one remarks. "...Maybe you should make the coffee..." The Nice One sighs, taking the erratic one's coffee mug, and goes to make the coffee as requested. "How are you feeling?" he asks. "...Better," the crazy one replies, sitting down at the table, "Better than this morning anyway..." "Good," the kind one places a cup of coffee in front of him before sitting down opposite him, "What changed - if you don't mind me asking?" The psychotic one takes a sip of his coffee and smiles. "And what if I do mind?" he retorts with a smirk. "Then I suppose you don't have to tell me," the Nice One shrugs, "I'm just...curious." "Why?" "I guess because you're not really one to...have a breakdown in the kitchen." "You made me stay," the Scary One mumbles, trying to hide his embarrassment, "A-anyway, what's it matter?! I'm fine now." The kind one hesitates for a moment, unsure of whether he should press the issue. "If you wanna talk about anything, ya can talk to me," he says softly, "I don't want you - or anyone else - to get hurt." The crazy one laughs. "Thanks, Counsellor Shoulder Angel," he laughs, "I'll let ya know if I do." The Nice One watches as his crazier-self up and leaves the room. He catches a glance of him saying something to his kid, but can't quite make out what, before he leaves the living room. Alone, he takes a sip of his coffee and sighs. He steals another glance at the Scary One's child, who is still bandaging herself, it appears. She's scowling and muttering to herself. "Poor kid..."

[thecharlester77]

Doctor Shoulder Angel - DH AU Fan Short

The HL Scientist doesn’t sleep hardly ever, rarely eats or drinks, and him collapsing from time to time with physical exhaustion is how his body deals with his reckless life style. This is another DH AU short about how the RC Scientist is just basically everyone’s Dad. 

Doctor Shoulder Angel – DH AU Short

 It was an average afternoon; the Nice One was sat in the living room, reading a book he’d been meaning to read for a while. For what felt like the first time in centuries, he had some time to himself.

Only a few pages in, footsteps interrupted his time alone. He looked up and sighed as he saw the Scary One; his peace was about to be disturbed.

The Nice One watched as his crazier-self stumbled into the room; his eyes were half closing, then snapping open again, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed more noticeable. He was trembling as he struggled to stand.

“Are you okay?” the Nice One asked anxiously, placing his book to one side.

“Y-yeah…I’m…I’m…fine…” he mumbled, attempting to make eye contact with his nicer-self. He ambled another step forward, and then crashed to the floor.

“Ah, geez!” the kind one cried, jumping up from the sofa. He rushed to the violent one’s side, not sure what to do.

 A few seconds later, the One That Bites came into the room.

“Do you know what’s wrong with him?” the Nice One asked, propping the violent one’s head up, “Is he sick?”

“Yeah, in the head,” the child muttered, “Is he alive?”

The Nice One tilted his head closer, and heard slow, rhythmic breathing.

“Yes, he’s breathing,” he replied.

“That’s a shame,” she sighed.

“Did you hit him over the head?”

“Not this time.”

“He just…collapsed. Is this normal?”

“I don’t think he sleeps much,” she muttered, “This happened once before but he wouldn’t say much about it afterwards.”

“I…I think he’ll be fine.”

 The Nice One struggled to lift the violent one off the floor, and laid him on the sofa.

“Has he eaten anything recently?” the Nice One asked.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t think so,” she answered.

“Typical,” the kind one muttered, “I’ll be right back. Can you keep an eye on him whilst I’m gone?”

The kid nodded.

“Don’t…Don’t hurt him while I’m gone…”

She nodded again, but still said nothing.

 Against his better judgement, he left the room and dashed down the corridor. As quickly as he could, the Nice One entered the violent duo’s room, grabbed a blanket off one of the beds and then rushed back down the corridor.

“Is he alright?” the Nice One asked, announcing his return.

“He’s still…sleeping.”

“Oh good – you didn’t hurt him,” he breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s no fun if he can’t feel it,” she mumbled in reply.

Gently, the kind one draped the blanket over the Scary One, tucking the edges in securely.

“Wow…He really needed sleep,” he muttered, once again noticing the dark bags under the violent one’s eyes, “Aww – he’s so harmless when he’s asleep,” he chucked, “I’m going to make some dinner – he can have some too when he wakes up.”

The Nice One then left, leaving the sleeping man with his Subject.

 “N-no, Kid. Come back!” Hours later, the violent one suddenly mumbled, flinching.

“Is he awake?” the Nice One asked, entering the room again.

“I don’t know,” she answered, taking a wary step back from hers.

“No, no, the door,” the Scary One mumbled, “How did you get through the door?!”

“I think he’s just talking in his sleep,” the Nice One said.

“Is he…dreaming?”

“Looks like it,” the Nice One replied.

“No, no, Kid, no!”

The violent one rolled over, beginning to thrash against the blankets.

“Though it looks more like a nightmare,” the Nice One muttered anxiously, “Maybe we should wake him u-”

“No!” she interjected, “He deserves to suffer!”

“…I suppose he does need his rest…” he replied anxiously.

 Suddenly, the violent one’s eyes flickered open, and his thrashing seized. Sitting up slowly, he looked around as saw Shoulder Angel, and his kid.

“Shoulder Angel? And Kid? What happened?” he mumbled groggily.

“You collapsed on the floor,” the Nice One replied, “So I lifted you on to the sofa and put a blanket over you. You’ve been asleep for a few hours.”

“And you started talking in your sleep,” his kid added, “You were having a nightmare, we think.”

The Scary One’s face reddened for a moment, and he diverted his eyes.

“I’ll be back in just a moment,” the Nice One announced.

 “You were dreaming about me,” the One That Bites stated.

“Was I?” he asked, trying to seem oblivious.

“Yep. You kept mumbling ‘no, Kid, no’, and stuff…then you started just lashing out, and then you woke up.”

“Interesting,” the Scary One yawned.

“Here ya go!”

The Nice One re-entered the room, and placed down a glass of water and a plate of pasta in front of the violent one.

“Thanks, Shoulder Angel, but I’m not hungry,” the crazier version of him muttered.

“Come on, man. It looks like you haven’t eaten anything in days!” the kind one argued.

“I haven’t…”

“Eat.”

“I don’t want t-”

“Listen, I’m a doctor, and you need to eat something! At least have some water?” the Nice One pleaded.

“…Fine,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

After a moment of hesitation, the violent one drank the glass of water, draining it within moments.

“I knew you were thirsty,” the kind one muttered, “Have some of the pasta. Just try it!”

“But I’m not hungry,” the violent one protested.

“I made it for you,” the Nice One sighed, “Remember, I like cooking.”

“Yeah, I do,” the Scary One smirked, remembering the apron, “Okay then…because you made it, Shoulder Angel.”

 He raised the fork to his mouth and took a bite out of a piece of pasta. Suddenly, the Scary One’s eyes lit up for a second – it tasted good. He began to devour the pasta, and within minutes it was gone.

“Whadya think?” the Nice One asked.

“That was great!” the violent one replied, “You’re a good cook.”

“Thank you,” the Nice One smiled for a moment before taking the plate and the glass away.

“I thought you weren’t hungry?” the child asked, confused.

“I wasn’t. I just didn’t want to hurt his feelings,” the Scary One lied quickly.

“So did you actually like his pasta?”

“Yeah, it tasted nice. I just wasn’t hungry though.”

“I’ve got you another glass of water,” the Nice One said, placing it in front of him.

“Shoulder Angel, thank you, but I’m fine.”

The Nice One rolled his eyes.

“You passed out from physical exhaustion!”

“Yes, that’s normal for me,” the Scary One muttered.

“Just drink the darn water.”

Reluctantly, the violent one drained the glass for the second time, rolling his eyes right back at the nicer version of him.

 “I’m going to go to bed,” the kid announced, “I’m tired.”

“Okay, goodnight, Kid,” the two men bid the child farewell as she left the room.

“How are you feeling?” the Nice One asked.

“Fine,” the Scary One replied.

“Details, please?”

“…Less…like I’m going to collapse?”

“That’s a start I suppose,” the kind one sighed.

“Doctor Shoulder Angel,” the Scary One laughed, “always making everyone better.”

[thecharlester77]

Heartless - DH AU Short

Another DH AU Short; this one is about the OG Subject’s death. Oof ;-;

Heartless – DH AU Short

 It had been a long day, and the evening was slowly slipping away as night started to begin.

“Has he been in there with her all day?” the violent one asked worriedly.

“I think so…”

“You don’t think she’s…gone yet, do you?” the anxiety in his voice increased.

“No, I don’t think so,” the Nice One replied quietly.

“Are the others allowed to see her?”

“Only if he allows them to. She might not be able to handle it.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

For the first time ever, chaos wasn’t being wrecked by the violent one, and the kind one didn’t have to clean it up. But, still as usual, the mean one was by himself.

 Suddenly, the door burst open and the Sad One walked out.

“Can we all see her?” the Scary One asked.

“Sure, just be careful with her…She’s upset, obviously and – um. Never mind. Whatever, I don’t care,” he muttered, storming off down the corridor.

The Nice One got up.

“I’m going to go tell the girls they can see her,” he said.

“I’ll wait here,” the violent one replied quietly.

The Nice One paused, looking back over his shoulder.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“No, are you?”

“…I’ll go get the girls.”

 A few moments later, the Nice One came back, followed by his daughter, and the Scary One’s child.

“Hey, Kid,” the Scary One greeted his child with a small wave. She only glared in reply.

“Can we see her, Dad?” the Nice One’s child asked.

“Yes, sweetie. But be gentle with her; she’s very fragile at the moment.”

“Ya hear that, Kid?” the violent one muttered as he pushed open the door, “Be gentle.”

“I’m not deaf!” she retorted, “I know!”

 She looked up from where she lay on the bed.

“Where’s my you?” she asked nervously.

“He just went to get some things,” the Nice One reassured her, “He’ll be back soon.”

She struggled to sit up, and then looked at the other kids who were stood by the doorway.

“H-hi,” the nice child waved, and the other kid waved back.

“Um…Kid, you should probably say your goodbyes to her,” the violent one said quietly.

“What do you mean? Why would I say goodbye? Is…Is she really sick?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so,” he replied with a sigh.

“But if she’s dying then why isn’t hers here? Doesn’t he care?” she asked bluntly.

The violent one watched as the Sad One’s kid began to cry; she’d heard.

“O-of course he cares!” the violent one choked out, trying to sound outraged at the assumption that he didn’t, “L-Like Shoulder Angel said, he’s just gone to – um – get something.”

He didn’t want her to be upset, but he had to admit that his kid’s accusation seemed accurate.

“So go on, g-go and say your goodbyes to her…”

“Are you crying?” his kid asked, seeming confused.

“Am I?” he muttered. He reached up to his face and felt tears.

“I don’t know, Kid, just get it over with,” he sighed.

He turned away from them, only half listening as the three children spoke. After a few moments, he heard a noise that sounded like a muffled sob. He turned around again, and then wished he hadn’t.

“Aw geez,” he muttered.

Both the child in the blue hoodie and the Sad One’s kid were in floods of tears, and even his own kid was welling up.

“This is a total disaster,” he mumbled, wiping the tears from his face.

“I’m going to go and get him,” the Nice One suddenly appeared at his side as he whispered, “Watch them?”

“Okay.”

 He watched as Shoulder Angel left, and then looked back at the bed. The tragic scene caused tears to once again spring in his eyes, and he looked away.

 The Nice One exited the room and strode down the corridor. He ran his hands through his hair as he came to the living room, and opened the door.

He saw the Sad One sat on the sofa, sipping a cup of coffee and reading a book – as usual.

“Hey,” he announced his presence, “Your kid’s slipping away.”

“Why do you think I left?” he muttered coldly, “I can’t be in there. I can’t watch another ch- I just can’t.”

“She needs you there,” he protested.

“She’ll be fine…It’ll be over for her soon.”

“She’s dying! Can’t you at least pretend you care?! She’s so upset!” he cried, rage seizing him.

“No!” the Sad One rose from his seat angrily, “I will not pretend to care! Why should I?!”

“She’s going to be gone soon, and she really wants you to come back,” he replied, trying desperately to appeal to any compassion he had left.

“I’ll go back,” he sighed, placing his coffee down, “But I will not pretend to care about her. She’s not a child…She’s just a thing.”

“How can you say those things?” the Nice One gasped, “She’s dying! How can you be so heartless?!” his voice cracked as he stormed off.

The Sad One followed reluctantly after him, and then found himself back in the room.

 “Geez…are you okay?” the violent one asked the kind one as he entered the room, a hand covering his face.

“I’m fine,” the Nice One replied, “You don’t look so ‘okay’ yourself.”

“That’s because I’m not,” he muttered.

 The Sad One followed in after him, and nobody said anything to him.

“I think the other kids should leave now,” he said quietly.

The Nice One nodded, and then began to take his kid by the hand.

“Can you take yours?” he asked the violent one. He nodded.

“C’mon, Kid,” the Scary One gently placed his hand on her shoulder, “You should go.”

She flinched at his touch, but didn’t brush him away as she usually did.

“I don’t want to go,” she muttered, “I want to stay with her.”

“You can’t, Kid. It’s…It’s not something you want to see anyway.”

“…Please?” she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, as if pleading to stay.

“N-no, Kid, I’m sorry but no.”

She scowled at him, and then looked back at the Sad  One’s child.

“I…I’m not allowed to stay. I’m sorry.”

She leaned over and quickly hugged her, before turning back to hers.

He took her hand and led her out of the room.

“You and the nice kid in the blue hoodie should…um…play together or something. I’ll be back later.”

“Okay…”

“Aw, Kid, don’t cry,” he muttered.

“I’m not crying!” she protested, glaring at the floor.

He sighed, and knelt down beside her.

“It’s…it’s not weak to cry, y’know. Not when it’s over something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Did you cry when your daughter died?” she asked, still glaring at the floor.

“Uh huh…I probably cried a lot.”

“Probably?”

“It was a long time ago, and I prefer not to think about it…”

She still didn’t move.

Catching her by surprise, he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She stiffened, and pushed him away.

“Get off me,” she mumbled, “I hate you.”

“Ha…Hate you too. Now go!”

She ran off leaving him alone in the corridor.

Sighing, he turned around and re-entered the room.

He immediately froze in the door way, seeing something he never thought he’d see.

 Shoulder Angel was stood, tears streaming down his face as he screamed at the Sad One, who was stood angrily facing him.

“You’re completely heartless!” the Nice One yelled, “How can you let her go like this?!”

“You’re the one shouting,” the Sad One remarked calmly.

“I can’t even – argh!”

He turned to storm off, but the violent one seized him by the shoulders.

“Let go,” the Nice One demanded – the threat in his voice was empty. He was too tired to do anything.

“I think we all need to calm down,” the violent one sighed.

“When did you two switch places?” the spiteful one muttered.

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH!” the violent one yelled.

“So much for calming down,” the Sad One said.

“P-please stop fighting,” a weak, frightened voice came from the corner of the room.

The violent one turned around, as did the kind one.

“Geez…I’m sorry, Kid. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the Scary One sighed, raking his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” the Nice One apologised, “I didn’t mean to get so cross.”

“It’s o-okay, you were just trying to help me-” she was cut off by another coughing fit.

 The violent one turned away. He couldn’t watch anymore. It hurt too much; it reminded him of another time…

He rested his head in his hands, trying to block out the noise.

 There was a lot of shouting. Coughing. Then there was screaming – her screaming. Begging him to hold her hand…or to hum, just so she wouldn’t be scared.

As much as the violent one tried, he couldn’t blot out the racket.

Until suddenly, everything fell silent.

 Slowly, he turned around – and wished he hadn’t. The Sad One’s child was lying still on the bed. Unmoving. Not even breathing.

“She’s gone now,” the Sad One said quietly.

 She was gone…and he didn’t even seem to care. In her short life, she’d tried everything she could think of just to get him to love her back. She’d even let herself get hurt.

As this realisation came to the Scary One, a white, molten anger began to burn in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard…she’d begged him. But still he’d refused.

“How could you?” he said, his hands balling into fists.

“What?” the Sad One sighed.

“How could you be so heartless?!”

Before he had time to think, he swung his arm straight into the spiteful one’s jaw, issuing a left hook right to his mouth.

The Sad One stumbled backwards, clutching his face in an offended manner. He could taste blood as he gritted his teeth, tears stinging his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you that hard!” the violent one apologised frantically, “It was an accident.”

The Nice One gave him a glare, and then approached the other one, who was staring at the floor as blood trickled through his fingers.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

The Sad One nodded, despite the fact that tears were rolling down his face. They couldn’t see his tears, as he was covering half of his face.

The exploding pain in his jaw was nothing compared to the crippling feeling of guilt that was attacking him at that moment. He squeezed his eyes shut and slid down the wall, sitting in a heap on the floor.

Guilt and despair. Now he was completely alone. He had no one – and it was completely his own fault.

“Hey, sad sack, I didn’t hit you that hard…right?” the violent one knelt beside him anxiously.

“That…r-really…hurt,” he muttered, wiping blood from his mouth.

“Aw geez – don’t kill me. Please?”

“I’m not going to do anything,” he said quietly, “I deserved it.”

The two looked back at him silently, expecting him to continue. The silence continued.

“Whether you deserved it or not, I still shouldn’t have hit you,” the Scary One sighed.

 The Sad One drew his knees up to his chest, suddenly sobbing.

“C’mon…stop crying…” the violent one said uncertainly. That did nothing.

After a moment of awkward hesitation, the violent one leaned forward and embraced the Sad One in a half hug.

“You’re not heartless,” the violent one sighed, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I shouldn’t have either,” the kind one added. He shuffled forward, and then joined the hug, wrapping his arms around them both.

“This really takes hugging yourself to a whole new level,” the Scary One muttered.

“Just be quiet,” the Nice One muttered, “We’ve been through enough today.”

[thecharlester77]

Say It Again, Kid - DH AU Fan Short

This is the HL Subject’s death scene, as a fan short. Heck ;-;

Say It Again, Kid – DH AU Short

HL Subject’s Death

 He’d tried everything he could think of – but it wasn’t enough. She was slipping away. She was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do.

 He held a hand under her head, keeping her propped up on his lap.

“Have some water, Kid,” he said. Slowly, he tipped the fluid down her throat; she swallowed, glaring up at him.

There was a knock on the door, and then a familiar person walked in.

“Oh – hey there, Shoulder Angel,” he muttered.

“Hey…Have there been any changes?” he asked, glancing at his kid. She was paler than usual, and looked sick.

“She’s not got any better – maybe worse,” he sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. She tried to push his hand away, but wasn’t strong enough to.

“Let me go,” she protested – she tried to sound adamant, but it sounded like a plea instead.

 ‘Shoulder Angel’ looked at him with sympathy, and then suggested,

“Maybe you should take her outside? The fresh air might…help her.”

He didn’t say anything, but nodded. Still holding her in his arms, he stood up.

“Where are we going?” she asked, peering over his arm.

“We’re going outside,” he replied, “So don’t try anything funny.”

“Outside?” she croaked.

 He didn’t answer her as he kicked open the front door. He carried her out on to the porch, and then sat down.

“It’s nice outside,” she whispered.

“It is,” he agreed quietly.

She looked up at him, her expression unreadable.

“Am I dying?” she blurted out suddenly.

“I…I think so, Kid,” he replied, “Your heart’s…giving out.”

“I thought I didn’t have a heart?” she asked, confused. He’d always called her ‘heartless’. He’d also said, many times, that she was a thing. Not a human.

She felt him begin to tremble, and at first, she thought he was laughing.

“Why are you laugh-” she looked up at him, and stopped. He wasn’t laughing at all. He was…crying?

“You’re crying?”

She felt him hug her tighter, and she struggled against his grip. As much as tried, she couldn’t escape. This was too much. He never cried. The only emotion he ever seemed to show was anger or elation. Why was he crying?!

“Do you – do you remember when you asked me if…if I loved you?” he choked out.

“Yeah. You told me to just be quiet.”

He chuckled softly.

“I never answered, did I?”

“I thought your answer was no, because you didn’t-”

“Yes,” he interrupted her, “The answer is yes.”

She stopped struggling for a moment, and fell silent. He … loved her? If he loved her, why did he hurt her?

Why did he hurt her?! If he loved her, why did he always tell her she was a thing?! Why –

“I don’t understand,” she said, “If you love me, why do you hurt me?”

He couldn’t answer. There wasn’t an answer that would make any sense anyway.

She began to push against his grip again, but her strength quickly ran out. She lay against his chest, and began to listen to his heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She’d tried so hard. Each time, she had come so close. She’d come so close to escaping. But she’d failed – and now she was going to die. She was going to die in his arms.

She didn’t want him to see her cry, but she didn’t have the energy to fight them. A sob of frustration overcame her, causing him to look down at her.

“Please don’t cry, Kid,” he muttered.

“YOU’RE crying!” she exclaimed, “You’re crying over a THING! You care about a stupid THING!” she laughed despite her tears, trying desperately to channel her anger into mocking him, “You love a THING!”

“I sure do, Kid,” he sniffed, smiling.

She glared up at him. She wanted to fight him. To hit him. To run away. But she couldn’t do anything; she was helpless.

“I hate you,” she spat pathetically.

“S-say it again, Kid,” he mumbled.

“I hate you!”

“Hate you too,” he smirked.

“I. Hate. You,” she sobbed breathlessly. It was getting harder to breathe.

 He rocked her gently back and forth, listening calmly as she screamed at him, screaming about just how much she hated him.

She looked up at him, her eyes teary. Her breath was short. Her chest burned.

“I hate you,” she whispered again.

He watched in horror as her eyes closed, and her chest fell – but didn’t rise.

“K-kid?”

She didn’t answer. She was still.

“Kid? W-wake up, Kid! Tell me you hate me,” he said hurriedly, “Say it again, Kid! S-say it again?”

He begged her. He shook her gently, begging her to tell him she hated him.

“Tell me that I’m heartless!” he sobbed, “T-tell me I’m a monster, o-or that I’m an idiot! Tell me y-you hate me!”

She said nothing. She was still.

“Say it again, Kid!”

He began to feel her growing cold. Hugging her to his chest, he rocked her, trying desperately to warm her up again.

It wouldn’t work. Of course it wouldn’t work.

“Say it again, Kid,” he whispered, “Say it again.”

[thecharlester77]

Late Nights - DH AU Fan Short

Late Nights – DH AU Fan Short

 This is another Dysfunctional Household short, written by me.

Her eyes open as she shoots awake.

“No, come back!” she claps a hand over her mouth, muffling her plea as she realises it had just been a dream.

Or rather, a nightmare.

She lifts her head off the grey carpeted floor, and steals a quick glance up at the white door; he’s in there.

She hadn’t wanted to follow him in, and he didn’t protest her absence, so she had stayed put. It’s dark in the corridor, and cold. She shudders, feeling the unnerving resemblance to her nightmare. Hugging herself tightly, she reluctantly relieves the dream.

It had been so dark, and cold, and he wouldn’t come back! No matter how loud she tried to shout for him, he didn’t come back!

 ‘I’m never coming back.’

His voice echoes in her ears, like a far off din that wouldn’t quieten.

“No,” she whispers, “Stop, stop!”

She feels tears trickle down her cheeks as she lays on her side. The corridor is so lonely.

Hearing footsteps, she quickly sits up, wiping away her tears.

“Whatcha doing here?” a voice asks.

She looks up, and immediately recognises him as the Scary One. Gasping with fright, she backs away.

“It’s the middle of the night. Shouldn’t ya be in your room?” he crouches down beside her.

“He’s mad at me,” she replies quietly. She wants to shift away again, but there isn’t anywhere to go.

“So you’re sleeping out here?”

“Yes.”

She looks up at him, and sees the bags under his eyes. He looks tired; why is he awake?

“Did he tell you to stay outside?” he asks, jolting her out of her wonder.

“No,” she replies, “But I didn’t want to make him madder.”

She notices a kindness in his eyes as he adjusts himself, sitting down properly. In the dim light filtering in through the window, she sees bruises on his face. Did his do that to him?

“What’s wrong?” he sees her gazing at him.

“N-nothing!”

“C’mon, Kid, I won’t get mad, I promise.”

Hers had promised – but this one isn’t like hers. Maybe he means it?

“Please?”

“There are – um – bruises on your face,” she comments quietly, “What happened?”

He chuckles softly and then answers,

“My kid hates me; attacks me every chance she gets.”

She’s shocked. How could she do that to him?! But then again, she doesn’t know just how much he does to her either.

“Don’t blame her though,” he mutters,

“Home come you’re still awake?”

“I – um – I don’t know,” she lies; she doesn’t want to talk to him.

“Scared of me still?” he asks, grinning a little, “Ya know I meant it when I said I won’t hurt you. You’re not my kid; yours would kill me.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, “Like I said, he does care about you.”

“He says he doesn’t,” she whispers, “He said he doesn’t care about me at all.”

“That’s a load of rubbish if I ever heard it,” he replies flippantly, “He does care. Trust me, kid.”

For a moment, she looks at him, waiting for him to say something else. But he doesn’t; instead, he looks back at her.

The silence feels too loud, and the dark feels smothering. Everything feels strange at night.

“Why are you awake?” she asks, breaking the silence.

“Just am,” he shrugs, “I never sleep much.”

“Oh…Me neither.”

“Bad dreams?”

She looks at him, trying not to show her surprise. How does he know? Does he have bad dreams too? Slowly, she nods.

“What about?”

“Him,” she begins, “He leaves me all on my own, and it’s dark, and he says he’s never coming back. And I-” the lump in her throat cuts her off. Suddenly, she realises what she’d told him. Snapping her mouth shut, she stares at the floor.

“Hey,” he says, “Kid?”

She looks up at him unwillingly, and notices that he is smiling at her. For a moment, she feels a strange feeling. She feels…warm. Safe. Hers never smiles at her. For a moment, she almost smiles back. But then she remembers – he isn’t hers.

“He’d never leave you,” he says, “He wouldn’t be able to do without you.”

“Really?”

“Definitely,” he replies, “I know that I couldn’t be without my kid. She’s a pain, but she’s mine, ya know?”

“You’re not like him,” she says, “He never smiles.”

“I’m glad I’m not like him,” he mumbles quietly, “I don’t like the way he treats you – not that I’m at liberty to judge that, but…Yeah.”

She stiffens as she feels him put a hand on her shoulder.

“He does care, I promise.”

Without another word, he rises. She listens to his footsteps as he heads back down the corridor. Once again, she’s left alone.

Maybe he was right? Maybe…Maybe he does care - even if it’s only a little.

[thecharlester77]

Dysfunctional Household Fan Short – Bitter Unsweet

This is another fan short for @thesubjectandthescientist ! This is a short where the Hopeless Subject dies.

He stumbled back inside, dragging himself behind – one foot, then the other. He was there, but in his mind, he was someplace else. The Hopeless Scientist looked up, seeing the OG Scientist. There was a flash of sympathy in his eyes – even grief, for a brief moment – but that half smile was quickly replaced by his usual cold, unfeeling demeanour. The Hopeless Scientist’s almost hopeful smile faded as he walked on down the corridor, down to the end of the corridor.

He knocked half-heartedly on the RC peep’s door, and entered.

“She’s…At peace,” the Hopeless Scientist announced quietly, mustering a half smile, “Ironic – she always preferred to fight me on everything. Even in death; it seems strange to say she’s at peace.” He was rambling.

The two remaining Subjects looked up at him, the cold reality washing over them. Emotions soon swallowed the two young girls, and they clung to each other as tears stung their eyes. The group hug felt shattered.

 There was a piece missing.

 The Hopeless Scientist looked at the two remained Subjects with his usual smirk. They both looked almost exactly like her. Only – her clothes were black…She was usually bruised and bloody. Her voice was the same in sound, but her tone was much more filled with spite. She wasn’t like them. She’d hated him – rightly so – and didn’t…Didn’t even really try to make him like her. She was an angry ball of simmering spite and defiance. Her ‘nice’ was just not retaliating, he supposed. They looked almost just like her – but they weren’t her.

She was his.

And she was gone.

 The RC Scientist watched as the Hopeless Scientist lowered his head, his familiar smirk contorting to an almost grimace of pain. He looked – lost. He watched the Hopeless Scientist’s eyes brim with tears.

 Without a further thought, the RC Scientist took a step forward and wrapped his arms around him in a hug. The Hopeless Scientist’s tearing eyes widened in shock – maybe horror. But after a few moments, he hesitantly hugged back. This reaction was unexpected – but he preferred it to the one he’d received from the OG Scientist. He almost gave him hope, but took it away again in a second glance. But this – felt real.

“I’m sorry,” the RC Scientist said quietly.

The RC Subject looked up, seeing her Dad and the Hopeless Scientist embracing. Shocked – almost – she broke temporarily from the OG Subject’s embrace and watched as he hugged her father back. Her father said something she couldn’t hear.

 The Hopeless Scientist choked on a sob that broke from his chest, covering his face with one hand. He sobbed, guilt and grief tearing through him.

 He felt like he’d lost Evie all over again. But – this was different. He loved Evie, and… he supposed he’d loved her too – in his own strange way.

He wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to tell her he cared. He wanted to hold her.

But she was gone.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed.

 She was gone.

[thecharlester77]

Muddy Boi - DH AU Short

Another DH Fan Short! It’s been a while, so this one is fairly light-hearted. I couldn’t think of a name for this short, so I asked Montana for any ideas: this is the name she suggested. 

Enjoy!

Seconds after he hears the front door slam, the Nice One looks up to see his crazier self standing in the kitchen doorway, dripping with mud.

"Hey, Shoulder Angel! Come check out my mud pit!!" the crazy one calls, his usual manic smirk plastered on his face.

"What did you do?" the kind one sighs, "And why are you- oh… Mud pit. Right… One more question: Why??"

"Why not?" the other shrugs, "Anyway, c'mon, before it dries up!"

The psychotic one lunges forward and grabs the gentle one's arm, pulling him into the hallway. The Nice One immediately pulls away.

"Hey! Get your filthy hands off me!" he snaps, "And get out of my pristine kitchen!"

A maniacal grin spreads over the crazy one's face as he locks eyes with Shoulder Angel.

"Pristine, you say?"

"Don't you dare!"

The violent one shoves his way into the kitchen.

"I said don't!"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF ME ASSERTING DOMINANCE!" the manic one, who was already plastering grubby hand prints over everything in the kitchen, yells.

"Alright, that's it!!" the gentle one grabs his muddier self by the collar and yanks him back into the hallway, "Outside!" he lets go of the crazy one's collar and instead begins pulling him by the hand.

"Ooooh, Mr. Strong!" the psychotic one says, "Maybe you can dominate today, Shoulder Angel," he smirks, giving the other a coy wink.

"Shut up," the kind one snaps, "I told you not to talk like that."

"And I told you not to be so teasing!"

The Nice One scans his hand and shoves the destructive one out the front door, shutting it behind them.

"Shoulder Angel!" the crazy one gestures to an enormous mud puddle at the foot of the stairs, "Isn't it magnificent?!"

"Your amount of stupidity is magnificent," the orange-shirted one mutters.

"Hey!"

The kind one sighs.

"You're absolutely caked in mud. What did you do, roll around in it??"

"Yes."

"...Again, why??"

The other only shrugs.

Sighing once again, the Nice One steers the violent one away from the…mud-pit… and picks up the hose.

"You want a turn in the mud pit?" the psychotic one smirks.

"Absolutely not. I'm hosing you down before you go back inside," Shoulder Angel mutters, turning to face his crazier self.

The Scary One freezes.

"...What?"

"I said I'm hosing you down. So c'mon," the psychotic one notices a reluctant grimace on the kind one's face, "Strip."

The violent one quickly attempts to regain his composure.

"Oh, so ya finally want a piece of me, huh?" he smirks, striking a dramatic pose.

"Stop it," the gentle one sighs.

"If ya want me to take my clothes off, you're gonna have to earn it, sweet cheeks!"

"I said stop it!"

"C'mon, ya gotta at least buy me dinner first!"

"Stop fooling around, Rick!" the kind one snaps, "Just strip so we can get this over with!"

"Stop shouting at me, Shoulder Angel!" the crazy one retorts, "Can't I just take a shower?"

"Heck no, you'll just 'assert your dominance' all over my beautifully clean bathroom like you did in the kitchen!"

The psychotic one crosses his arms over his chest defensively.

"I…I don't wanna strip, Shoulder Angel," the crazy one protests.

"Oh, so all of a sudden you're shy?" the kind one answers sarcastically, "Spare me your dramatics and just get undressed already!"

"I said no!!"

"You can keep your boxers on! And the water's not even cold, you'll be fine!"

"No!! I'm not gonna let you hose me off like some sort of animal!"

"If you don't want to be treated like an animal then don't roll around in the mud like one then," the Nice One snaps, "If ya don't strip I'll just hose you with your clothes on!"

The violent one glares at his nicer self for a moment before furiously tearing his shirt off.

"There, ya satisfied?!"

"Don't make me say it, Rick."

"Say what?! Go on, if ya want me to do it so badly! "

"Take your pants off!" the kind one snaps.

"THERE!" the destructive one yells, pulling his trousers off, "Want me to bend over too?! I though I was the 'sicko' around here??"

The kind one lets out a frustrated sigh.

"It's just a hose, Rick! Calm the heck down!"

"NO, YOU CALM THE HECK DOWN! IT'S JUST MUD, SHOULDER ANGEL!" the crazy one is suddenly roaring as he feels something inside him snap, "TAKE ANOTHER STEP CLOSER WITH THAT HOSE AND I SWEAR I'LL TIP THE KITCHEN ON ITS HEAD!"

The Nice One pauses, looking back at his psychotic self. He notices him shaking. Slowly, he lowers the hose and takes a step backwards.

"Hey," the kind one says, softening his tone, "It's alright. Take a deep breath, man."

The psychotic one forces himself to take a deep breath, still scowling.

"You…You're right, it's just mud. Maybe I'm overreacting a little," the gentle one admits, slowly placing the hose on the floor.

The crazy one sits down in the grass and curls into a ball.

"...If you don't want me to hose you, then I won't," the other says softly. The Scary One nods in acknowledgement.

Being careful of the mud, the gentle one sits down beside him, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…I'm sorry."

The manic one takes another deep breath.

"...I used to get hosed off when I was a kid. They'd grab me by the hair and just, wrangle me under the hose," the psychotic one blurts out, gesturing graphically, "And if I protested, I'd get hit…"

"I'm sorry," the kind one apologises again, "I had no idea."

"It's fine," the crazy one mutters.

"Would you be okay with hosing yourself down?" the kind one asks. The other quickly shakes his head.

"Alright," he sighs, "You…You can go take a shower. But don't mess anything up! And if the bathroom's a mess afterwards, you're helping me clean it up. Deal?"

"Sure thing, Shoulder Angel!" the psychotic one springs to his feet, a grin returning to his face, "Just you and me, alone in the bathroom together," he adds with a wink.

The Nice One sighs and stands up.

"Go before I change my mind," he mutters.

The crazy one immediately bolts to the door, scans his hand, and then inside.

"Rick, wait!!" the kind one calls, "Put your clothes back on first!"

"WHY DON'T YA MAKE ME, SWEET CHEEKS?!"

[thecharlester77]

“I Love You” - DH AU Short

For once, a short that is genuinely short haha. It’s another DH AU one :)

“I love you” – DH AU Short

 It had been a quiet, uneventful evening, and the Nice One’s kid was playing peacefully with the Sad One’s kid on the rug in the living room.

“Playing pirates is really fun,” the child in the light grey said.

“It is! It’s my favourite game!” the child in the blue hoodie beamed, “Especially when I can play it with my friends!”

The quiet child smiled delightedly; nobody had ever called her a ‘friend’ before! She wasn’t entirely sure what the word meant, but it sounded good! She’d seen the word in some of her books before; her ‘caretaker’ had told her that it was someone who liked you, and liked being with you.

“Can I give you a hug?” the child in the blue hoodie asked, interrupting the quiet child’s thoughts, “I’m asking first in case you’re like the other me.”

The child in light grey clothing gasped.

“You…you want to give me a hug?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah! You give them to people you love!”

Her hands flew to her mouth, hiding another gasp.

“You…love me?”

“Of course I love you! You’re my friend!”

A broad smile stretched over the quiet one’s face, covered by her hands.

Someone…loved her. She’d wanted someone to say those words to her all her life. She couldn’t help but wished they’d come from him – but this was still amazing. Tears came to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

“Um…are you okay?” the happy child asked uncertainly.

She tried to reply to her friend, but a sob overtook her.

“Dad?! Dad, I think I broke her!” the Nice One’s kid called, unsure of what to do.

 Moments later, the Nice One rushed in, clutching a first aid kit in his left hand.

“Who’s broken?! What happened?!”

He noticed the child in the light grey, who was sobbing. He knelt down beside her.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” he asked her gently.

She quickly nodded, wiping the tears from her face. As she took her hands away again, she revealed a watery smile.

Without any further hesitation, the quiet one threw her arms around the child in the blue hoodie in a hug.

“Aww,” The Nice One smiled at the two girls, and then walked away again.

The happy kid smiled back, returning the embrace immediately.

“Do…do you love me?” the excitable child asked anxiously.

“Yes,” the child in the light grey replied, he voice barely above a whisper, “Of course I love you! You’re my…friend?”

Yes, that word felt right.

“You’re my friend.”

[thecharlester77]

Happy Birthday! - DH AU Short

This is a short about the scientists’ birthdays, in the Dysfunctional Household AU.

(Background info; The RC Scientist has an apron that says ‘Kiss the Cook’, but after one too many practical jokes from the HL Scientist about it, he placed a piece of duct tape over the word ‘kiss’.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! – DH AU Short

 The three children were sat in the living room, playing on the carpet.

“Thanks for letting us play with your building blocks!” the nice child exclaimed.

The bruised one just shrugged; she didn’t mind as long as she didn’t have to ‘play nice’. That concept always confused her.

 “Your tower looks brilliant,” the Nice One said, walking into the room. He sat down on the sofa and began to watch them playing.

“Thanks, Dad!”

Suddenly, a thought occurred to the child in the blue hoodie – a thought that she couldn’t disclose to the others in front of her Dad.

 She continued to play with the others, waiting patiently. It would be time for dinner soon…

“I’m going to start making dinner,” the Nice One announced, getting up from the couch.

“Okay, Dad!”

As he left, she quickly shut the door behind him.

“Hey, you guys!” she said, sitting back down on the rug, “It’s going to be my dad’s birthday soon!”

“Oh…that’s – um – nice?” the One That Bites replied uncertainly.

“That means that it’ll be yours’ birthdays too!”

“They’ll be…forty three,” the quiet one replied, smiling.

“Yep! They will! We should throw them a party, like they did for us!”

“…Do I have to give mine a present?” the one in the dark grey muttered with a grimace.

“Um – I don’t suppose so; yours isn’t very…nice. I don’t think we can get them presents, because we’re not allowed to go into town…we can make them cards though! And a cake!”

“What’s a cake?” the One That Bites asked.

“It’s a type of food that people sometimes eat at parties. My dad showed me how to make one once.”

“I don’t think we’re allowed in the kitchen,” the one in the light grey mentioned.

“We might be!”

“What about those cone-things that they wore on their heads? P-party hats? What about those?”

“We can make some!” the Nice One’s kid replied determinedly, “Mine’s going to be blue, to match my hoodie!”

“I’m going to make a purple one,” the quiet one said, “Purple’s my favourite colour.”

“I like red,” the spiteful child replied, “Mine will be red.”

“We can’t work on the party when they’re around,” the child in the blue hoodie added, “It has to be a surprise.”

“I hope I scare mine to death…” the Scary One’s kid muttered, “He does that to me every year.”

 ***

And so the party planning began; the three children worked hard whilst the adults weren’t around. From colouring to cake baking, by the day that their birthdays arrived, they were set.

 ***

“What if they don’t all come down together?” the quiet one asked nervously.

“They will,” the happy kid replied, “Well – except maybe the Scary One…He kinda doesn’t sleep…”

“Mine’s sat in our room,” the Scary One’s child said, “I think he’ll come downstairs soon.”

“Why don’t you ask yours to wake the other ones up when he comes downstairs?” the child in the blue hoodie asked.

“Mine doesn’t like to be woken up,” the child in the light grey informed her, “I don’t want him to be mad…”

“Maybe mine’s alarm will wake everyone up?” the Nice One’s kid said, “Hang on, I’ll run upstairs and make it louder… Wait here!”

 She rushed upstairs, crept into her room and then looked for her dad’s alarm clock. Creeping quietly over to the bed, she glanced nervously back at her sleeping father. She adjusted the alarm to full volume and then crept out again, leaving the door ajar.

 “Now…we wait.”

 A few moments later, a loud ringing sounded from upstairs, the noise so loud that it travelled through to the living room.

“TURN THAT OFF, SHOULDER ANGEL!!”

“I think they’re awake,” the quiet one whispered.

 “What’s that racket?” the Sad One complained.

“Sorry, sorry! The alarm ended up on full volume,” the Nice One replied, seeming confused.

“Well, I’ll never get back to sleep now,” the grumpy one sighed.

“Welcome to my world,” the Scary One muttered, emerging from his room.

“Sorry,” the Nice One apologised, “I don’t know how it got turned up. I’ll make breakfast. Coming?”

“Sure, why not?” the Sad One grumbled.

“Yeah, sure,” the violent one chuckled, following his other selves downstairs.

“Where are the kids?” the Nice One asked.

“Mine went downstairs earlier this morning,” the Scary One replied.

“Mine wasn’t in the room when I woke up. I assume they’re downstairs,” the Sad One added.

“That’s strange. They’re usually still-”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

The three men were incredibly startled by their kids’ sudden outburst.

“How did you know?” the Scary One mumbled, regaining his composure.

“She told us it was hers’ birthday,” the One That Bites replied, pointing to the child in the blue hoodie, “So we thought it was also yours.”

“It is,” the Scary One confirmed.

“What…?” the Sad One stifled a yawn as he struggled to process what was going on; he wasn’t awake enough for this.

“Aww, thanks kids,” the Nice One chuckled, “I suppose I know who turned the alarm up now…”

“Sorry, Dad; we needed you all to come down at once,” the Nice One’s child explained.

“You’re forgiven,” he knelt down, and his child rushed to him, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

“Do I get a hug?” the Scary One asked, looking at his child hopefully.

“No,” she replied bluntly, “I hate you.”

“What a lovely birthday,” he muttered sarcastically.

“We made you cards! And a cake!” the child in the blue hoodie announced.

“A cake? How…?”

“You taught me!”

 The three men followed their children into the kitchen, not sure what to expect.

On the kitchen counter, there sat a circular sponge-cake, with ‘Happy Birthday!’ iced shakily in yellow icing.

“That actually looks tasty,” the Scary One commented, “Your kid takes after you, Shoulder Angel.”

The Nice One smiled proudly, but then turned to his child.

“Kid, this is lovely, really, but don’t use the kitchen without my permission in future – it’s dangerous,” he scolded gently.

“Sorry, Dad.”

“Cake for breakfast,” the Scary One mused, “That’s different.”

“You eating breakfast is different,” the Sad One commented.

“It is,” the Nice One laughed, beginning to cut the cake into slices.

The other two took their plates, one reluctantly and one eagerly.

“Wait – who made this cake?” the Scary One asked.

“She did,” the One That Bites replied, gesturing to the child in the blue hoodie.

“Just making sure…You would have poisoned me,” the violent one laughed.

They then began eating without further hesitation.

“Do you like it?” the Nice One’s kid asked.

“It’s good!” the Nice One replied, smiling.

“Very good,” the Scary One added, “I might have another slice. Might.”

The Sad One simply gave a brief nod.

“Yay!” the child in the blue hoodie gave a delighted exclamation, “Let’s give them their cards!”

 “They planned this beautifully,” the Nice One complimented as the three children ran off.

“The alarm was clever,” the Sad One said, uncharacteristically giving praise, “Very annoying, but clever.”

“I’m getting another slice of cake,” the Scary One said, “It’s really good.”

“Don’t you dare go near that knife!”

 “Got them!!”

The children returned, each holding hand-made paper cards.

“We couldn’t manage to make envelopes,” the Nice One’s child sighed, “But we made cards!”

“Thank you,” the Nice One smiled, accepting his birthday card happily.

“I only did this because she made me,” the spiteful child muttered, reluctantly giving hers his card.

“Thanks, Kid,” he grinned, opening his card.

The front was illustrated with a scruffily drawn balloon and party hat, with ‘Happy Birthday’ scrawled on the front. He opened the card, and read the message aloud,

“Happy Birthday, you idiot. PS, I hate you…Charming.”

The Sad One smirked, trying not to laugh.

“Love you too, Kid,” the Scary One laughed sarcastically.

“I –um – made you a card too,” the Sad One’s child whispered, handing hers out to him with a shaky hand. He took the card from her hand and opened it flippantly.

“Your handwriting is nice,” he muttered, pocketing the card.

She beamed at hers; he wasn’t mad!

 ***

 “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAD SACK!”

“Gaah! What the heck?!”

The Scary One burst into the living room, startling both the Sad One and the children.

He tossed his startled-self a parcel, which was wrapped in green tissue paper.

“How did you know that – never mind. I don’t care,” the Sad One muttered, catching the parcel.

“We have the same birthday, you idiot,” the violent one replied, rolling his eyes, “Open it!”

“This isn’t an explosive is it?”

“Ha. I considered it, but no. Open it!”

“Fine…”

Begrudgingly, the grumpy one tore away the tissue paper, revealing a grey t-shirt. On the t-shirt, there were the words ‘DO NOT RESSUSSITATE’ in block red lettering.

“This is perfect,” he laughed, “Um…thanks.”

“Ya welcome!”

The quiet child watched in awe as hers laughed. He was smiling! She’d never seen him smile before.

 The Scary One left, and then entered the kitchen, sneaking in behind the Nice One.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHOULDER ANGEL!”

The Nice One was equally startled, dropping the wooden spoon he had been holding.

“Ya really got to stop doing this!” he scolded, picking it up, “But happy birthday to you too.”

“Ha, I’m not called ‘the Scary One’ for nothing,” the violent one laughed.

“No…you’re not.”

“Before you carry on cooking, I have to give you your present!”

“Huh?” the Nice One turned around, not sure what to expect.

Suddenly, the Scary One wrapped his arms around his nicer-self, squeezing him in a python-like hug.

“Thanks for putting up with me,” the Scary One said, releasing the Nice One.

“You’re – er – you’re welcome,” he sighed.

“And one more thing?”

“Hmm?”

The Scary One seized the piece of duct tape, covering a word on the Nice One’s apron, and tore it away. Before his kind-self had chance to react, the Scary One planted a kiss on his surprised cheek.

“Nice apron, Shoulder Angel,” the violent one laughed, amused by the look on the Nice One’s face.

“Get out of here before I hit you with the frying pan,” the Nice One muttered.

 Still laughing, he left, and almost walked straight into the sad child in the corridor.

“Oh, hey kid!” he greeted her with a grin.

“Um – hi! I wanted – to ask you something…”

“Sure, ask away!”

“How did you make mine smile?”

“I’ll level with ya, kid. I didn’t know he could smile,” the violent one chuckled, “I expected him to just grumble or something. I guess he just found my gift funny?”

“Oh…Okay. Thank you,” she replied quietly.

“What for?”

“For making him happy.”

“Aww. You’re welcome, Kid.”

He ruffled her hair, catching her off guard, and then continued walking down the corridor.

She stood there in the corridor, and a smile crept on to her face. Maybe one day, she could make him smile the way he had.

Just maybe.

[thecharlester77]

DH AU Fan Short - I’m Not Crying

DH AU Short – I’m Not Crying

This short takes place a few days after the HL Subject’s death, and the HL Scientist is alone - well, so he thought.

 He pushed open the bathroom door and closed it behind him with a sigh. Why was he even bothering anymore? He didn’t care what the others thought of him.

Despite his internal rebellion, he reached for his wash cloth and soaked it. Slowly, he began washing his face. The bruises were sore, and the cuts stung, but he continued. What was a bit of pain anyway? No pain, no game, right?

But it wasn’t a game.

 He paused, looking at himself in the mirror. Amongst the myriad of injuries on his face, there was one that had been there longer than the others: a scar, slashing horizontally along a short stretch of the left hand side of his forehead. Gingerly, he raised his hand and ran his fingers over it. Suddenly, a sharp pain zipped through him. He pulled his hand away as if it was a hot stove. A memory flickered, sparking to life as he pulled his fingers away.

 “Let’s play a game!” he announced, grinning madly.

“I don’t want to play a game,” she muttered sourly.

“Too bad you don’t have a choice!” he yanked her up out of her chair, causing her to yelp in pain.

“We’re going to play my FAVOURITE game,” he said, “Say Please!”

“Oh no,” she said quietly.

“Oh YES!”

He brought down the club with force, smacking her on the shoulder, sending her flying.

“AAARGH!” she shrieked, and flew at him. In a rain of fury and pain, her hands became claws, scratching mercilessly at his face. He yelped in surprise, feeling warm blood run like a stream down the left side of his face.

“You little!”

“WHY DON’T YOU SAY PLEASE?!” she screamed, and attacked him once again. He swung the club at her, but missed the first time. The second, he struck her back. Winded from the hit, she fell to the floor.

“Say please, Kid!” he sang, waving his weapon threateningly.

“Fight me!”

He chuckled darkly and leaned over her in a threatening manner.

“Alright, if you ins-”

Before he could finish his sentence, a chair came crashing down over his head. Momentarily disorientated, he stumbled and fell over the table.

 She took the chance, and seized her aggressor’s club.

“Say please!” she commanded.

“Over my dead body,” he muttered, struggling to stand.

“WRONG ANSWER!” she brought the club down over his head, raining a storm of hits.

Abruptly, she was flung across the room as he seized the club from her fingertips. She tried desperately to push aside the screaming pain in her lower back as she watched him stand, smirking a bloody smile.

“Thought you’d get ME to say please?” he laughed, “Never!”

As he raised the club for the third time, she cowered against the wall.

“P-please!” she cried out, “You’re gonna kill me!”

“I’m sorry, WHAT was that, Kid?”

“I said please!” she yelled.

 He smirked triumphantly, placing his hands on his hips with a smug demeanour.

“I win,” he taunted, laughing.

It wasn’t fair. He always won; she could never win. Even if she did get knocked unconscious and didn’t have to say please – even if she ‘won’ his stupid game – she’d still be stuck there, with HIM. And he’d always come back for another game. She could never escape, and she could never win. Not really.

 “Are you – are you crying?” he asked, turning around to the sound of sniffling.

“N-no!” she tried to shout, but the lump in her throat dislocated her words.

“You’re crying!” he taunted, beginning to laugh hysterically.

“I’m not! I’m not crying!”

 He looked away from the mirror, raising a now nervous hand to the scar. It felt sore – but there was no burning like there had been before. He felt himself begin to tremble as his vision clouded. Sinking to the floor, he held a hand to his face.

 The door slowly opened, and standing in the ajar doorway was The Nice One.

“Are you okay?” he asked, though he knew it was a stupid question.

“What do you care, shoulder angel?!” he snapped, not looking up from the floor.

“Good question,” The Nice One muttered sarcastically, “No, seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Go. Away.”

“Not until you tell me why you’re crying,” The Nice One said gently.

 “I’m n-not crying!” he sobbed, “I’m n-not!”

[thecharlester77]

Kid To the Rescue! - Dysfunctional Household Fan Short

Another Dysfunctional Household Short by me.

The three girls ran back into the RC Subject’s bedroom, giggling. They were wearing a variety of silly, oversized shirts as sundresses from the RC Scientist’s wardrobe, which his daughter had borrowed.

“We need to get dressed again, quick!” the RC Subject whispered, “Before your dads see!”

“He’s NOT my dad,” The HL Subject interjected, “I hate that guy.”

“My – uh – caretaker said I’m not allowed to call him ‘dad’,” The OG Subject said quietly, looking sad.

“Oops, sorry, I forgot,” the RC Subject gasped, “Well – your…um…caretakers. We need to get dressed quick!”

In an array of giggling and kerfuffle, the Subjects all hurried to get dressed.

“Oh, wait!” the OG Subject cried, “You’re wearing my shirt, and I’m wearing yours.”

The HL Subject looked down at her shirt and laughed.

“Oops!”

Before either could even take off the shirts, the door burst open.

“Here ya are!” the HL Scientist shouted, “I’ve been looking for you! Come on!”

Without waiting another second, the HL Scientist roughly grabbed - whom he believed to be - his Subject by the wrist and dragged her out of the room.

“P-please!” the OG Subject cried, “I’m not yours! I’m not her!”

“Save it, Kid,” the HL Subject snapped, “I know you’re my kid.”

“I’m not! Please, you’re hurting me!” she cried, “I’m not the one that bites!”

“And that’s why you’re wearing your shirt, your label, and why you’re the bruised kid,” he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“I-I’m not, I promise, I’m not!” she screamed, tears welling in her eyes, “I belong to ‘the sad one’!”

“Just because ya don’t want to be punished for letting your mouth run earlier!” he snapped, “COME ON!”

She tried to plant her feet in the floor, but he simply lifted her up by the wrist and dragged her more forcefully.

“LET GO!” she sobbed, “LET GO OF ME!”

“What’s going on?” the OG Scientist emerged from his room, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“I’m his!” she cried, pointing desperately at her Scientist, “I’m not yours, let me go!”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SUBJECT?!” the OG Scientist yelled, “SHE’S MINE!”

He placed his coffee down immediately and made a grab for her. The HL Scientist yanked her away, above his head, causing her to scream in pain.

“Can’t you read? Her label CLEARLY reads ‘the one that bites’!”

“LET ME GO!” she shrieked.

“Oh no! I am going to make you wish you never opened your big mouth, kid!”

“Put her down!” the OG Scientist demanded, “Let her go!”

“Hey! Don’t tell me how to raise my kid!”

“That’s MY kid!”

“Does your kid have bruises, and wear a dark grey ripped shirt?! Does YOUR kid bite?!”

“She’s in the wrong shirt, but she’s MY kid!”

“How can you be so sure?” the HL Scientist asked, still holding her above his head by her wrist.

“PUT HER DOWN!”

“MAKE ME!” the HL Scientist shouted, pulling the scalpel out from behind his back.

The OG Subject was dropped from his head height, and she hit the floor with a painful THUD. She whimpered in pain, gasping.

The RC Scientist came out of his room, and saw the scene.

“Ya wanna argue with me now, shoulder angel number two?!” he grinned madly, holding the scalpel to the OG Scientist’s throat.

The RC Scientist gasped, and was about to break them apart, when he saw someone else stop him.

“NO!” she shrieked, “DON’T HURT HIM!”

She jumped in front of the OG Scientist, arms wide, in a protective manner, “LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Both Scientists at either side of the Subject in question stood, slightly shocked.

“I see this is your kid…” the HL Scientist mutters, “My mistake!” He flew up his hands in surrender and walked off down the corridor.

 “Why did you…Why did you stop him?” the OG Scientist asked his Subject, baffled.

“Because I love you!” she cried, “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

They both stood facing each other in the silence, the Subject nervous, and the Scientist still unsure.

“Why…Why did you stop him hurting me? I thought you didn’t care about me?”

“I…” he didn’t have a good answer, “Because you’re MINE. That’s all. How badly did he hurt you?”

She whimpered, painfully holding her arm aloft for him to see.

“It really hurt,” she whispered.

He muttered something angrily under his breath that she couldn’t hear before storming off.

“Follow me,” he told her.

“You’re not going to – um – fight him, are you?” the OG Subject asked nervously.

“No. I’m just going to bandage your arm.”

She looked at him uncertainly, but then rushed after him.

He’d never understand how she could care about him.

She’d never understand why he saved her – if he didn’t care about her.

END