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rallentando1011 · 2 days

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Somnambulant Soulmates (rise Donnie x gn reader)

Chapter Warning : threats, self-neglect

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Word Count: 1859

The saccharine savor of saturated soda.

A coppery taste laid pungent on your tongue.

A birthday party.

Concrete but harshly into your skin, the pavement cold, harsh.

Flashes of movie nights and spontaneous excursions and too many late nights spent in a lab and unmistakable looks of betrayal.

Your head was plagued by a dull, throbbing pain, extremities felt all-but-atrophied, throat scratchy with dehydration-

You coughed.

If the resulting thick cloud of dust and dirt beside your head didn’t clue you in, the unsavory feel of the - floor? - ground certainly revealed that you weren’t at home, in the lair, anywhere familiar, for that matter.

It took genuine effort to open your eyes. But despite the difficulty of it-

Wait, where were you?

You blinked rapidly; your vision and mind became increasingly more lucid as you processed - this genuinely wasn’t home or the lair or any place you’d seen in your entire life.

Panic was the worst thing you could do. It was also the easiest.

Worry settled in the pit of your stomach, but instead of allowing whatever sparse contents of your intestines to spill over the silt-like ground, you swallowed, pushed yourself up on aching limbs, surveyed the dim room you inhabited.

The walls consisted of thick concrete blocks, dusty, drab, barren. A small divet in the wall revealed an exposed bathroom of sorts, though its contents were rudimentary at best: a toilet with the complexity and basic mechanics of a chamber pot, a rusty faucet and a drain. There was almost no light, save for the only miniscule source of light a barred cell window on the door.

Door.

Before you could process it, you were upon the door, pushing and pulling in the off chance it was unlocked and you could go scot-free.

It wasn’t.

Okay, time to try something else.

Looking around the room for anything useful sounded promising. It was at least something to do.

You trailed the perimeter like a hyper animal, searching for vulnerabilities or secret levers or buttons or anything that could be of use. The best you could find were sharp pebbles and stones which, okay, in a pinch those might be able to injure or distract someone. Not the best resource but, either to feel more secure or out of genuine regard for the rocks, you slipped them in your pocket.

Some sort of mental warning bell began to ring, a meager voice in the back of your signaling some sort of change or imminent threat.

You swung back around to face the door, your ears perked up, your arms prickled with goose-flesh.

A rhythmic clack sounded from outside the door, the sound vaguely reminiscent of how superintendents in a school stalked down the hallway to penalize a student, the footsteps intent, menacing.

The noise came to a halt in front of your door with an ominous click.

You looked out of the door’s window. The view was no longer just a bare hallway. Someone was there. No one other than the one responsible for your impromptu incarceration.

The spider.

Well, at the moment she didn’t quite look like the spider, down about four feet and a few inches and six legs.

In human form she was less physically daunting, but her predatory persona, wicked grin, not to mention her notorious track record, all classified her as a force to be reckoned with.

“Hello,” was all she said, smug and all too bubbly.

You scowled. Even with all of your ailments, you found quite enough energy to be upset.

“Why are you even here? To gloat?”

Her lack of response and never-changing predatory grin were enough of an answer to you.

You scoffed before she finally said something of substance.

“Big Mama always gets what she wants. That’s not what your confuzzled little mind should be concerning itself with.”

“Really? What pressing matter should have my attention then?”

“Oh, how jocular,” the woman snickered condescendingly. “Perhaps your own well being, hm? Or maybe the turtle’s?”

You clenched your jaw.

Big Mama seemed delighted.

“There exist strict lines between business and personal matters, and you seem to have tangled yourself up in that wobbly web. Frankly, I find scenarios such as yours to be positively scrumptious, and I can scarcely wait for it to unfold.

“After all the flim-flam and busywork and contracts are signed, it’ll be high time to rid myself of all the dispensable details, superfluous items such as yourself.”

“What?” you retracted, shrinking away from the door as if that could save you from whatever the arachnid was talking about.

Big Mama’s amusement as she turned away made it abundantly clear it wouldn’t.

“You broke your end of the deal; it’s null and void. It’s precisely what you’re soon to be: terminated.”

And with that, she walked away, the clicks and clacks of her steps doing nothing to help stop the sinking feeling of impending doom filling the cell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours had passed. And then a day. Two, maybe. It was easy to lose track of time in the lab, with the fluorescent lighting and the droning whir of machines and soul crushing sadness still thick in the air and whatnot.

Donnie hadn’t drank. Hadn’t slept. Hadn’t eaten, save for a poptart Mikey’d brought him. Actually, the poptart may have been illusoryâ€¦

But never mind that, he had more pressing matters to think about and/or actively try to ignore: his emotions.

Yeah. It was unbearable.

Betrayed wasn’t quite the word for what he was feeling, even though he certainly had been; you had to trust someone to be betrayed by them, and he wasn’t quite up to admitting(strike through) saying that yet.

Devastated might suffice. Destitute could also work. Deprived, depraved, despairingâ€¦

Okay, at that point his thoughts were merely for alliteration’s sake, not to mention rather pathetic, but that was beside the point.

But in all honesty, it hurt. Some weird ping of pain in his chest, a dull, persistent ache that hadn’t fled since you left.

Closing himself in the lab proved unsuccessful in dealing with his emotions. Scrolling mindlessly on his phone failed to redress the issue as well. He couldn’t even muster up the energy to work on anything.

With his typical means of squandering emotions proven futile, he was forced to try to come to terms with them.

Ugh, emotions. Needlessly complex and complicatedly useless.

By then, he almost felt numb trying to understand how to feel. It’s just- spending immense amounts of time with somebody was, to put it briefly, extremely validating. Most people sought his company out of convenience or necessity, asking for something to be made or fixed or a crime to be thwarted or just dealing with him because he was part of a “package deal” with his siblings. It was exhausting.

Then you came along and seemed to genuinely want to hang out with him and let him explain his works and it felt good. It felt really good.

Just your presence, just that alone, assured him that some people, or at least one specific person, enjoyed him as he was, liked his company as-is.

Then you admitted it was all under false pretenses.

There it was: the classic feeling of triumph followed by a rug pull of his expectations.

It was devastating.

Welp, that was enough emotional struggle for the day. Helplessly, Donnie plopped his head back into his desk, not even moving to check if anything fell due to the rattle of the table his action caused, and closed his eyes in a restless break.

Suddenly, the whooshing sound of the door coming open startled him back to reality, slowly lifting his head from the cool metal.

Bouncy footsteps moved toward him and a familiar someone plopped in the chair beside him.

“Hey D, have you seen-”

“No, I have not,” Donnie answered April flatly, already knowing the subject - you. “I texted that earlier.”

April shook her phone for emphasis as she kicked her shoes up on the desk. “You didn’t reply. And you didn’t answer when I called.”

“Well. I’d intended to.”

“What’s going on, D?”

He crossed his arms, hugging his oversized hoodie closer to himself. “Nothing is ‘going on.’ Everything’s happy-go-lucky, sunshine and rainbows.”

They stared at each other blankly for a moment until April let out a ‘yeesh.’

“Someone’s in a mood. Did y’all get in a fight or something?”

“Like I said, everything’s fine. Must’ve just left for somewhere else inconspicuously after coming here.”

April deadpanned. “So it makes sense for someone just infatuated with you and who had lunch reservations with me today to drop off the face of the earth?”

“It’s not infatuation! Whatever we have- had, was nothing. I meant nothing.”

A gentle hand rested on his forearm. He shuddered. It retreated.

“Soâ€¦ you guys had a fight?”

“To some degree, yeah. And before you say it, it was not my fault.”

April looked unimpressed. Unconvinced.

So Donnie said the only thing that could prove it: everything you had confessed the last time he saw you.

April listened quietly, pensively, solemnly. Eventually, she spoke up politely.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures. None of that was right, legally or morally or in any way, and I’m not saying we have to forgive right now,” she took in a cautious breath, “but something bad could’ve happened, and we should look into that.”

Donnie furrowed his brow. “Pardon?”

“Do you think Big Mama, organized crime boss Big Mama, is above kidnapping or blackmail?”

Huh. He hadn’t thought of that.

April continued. “Look, regardless of mistakes made and secrets kept, we shouldn’t abandon our,” Donnie shot her a testy look, “at least my, friend. We can talk about the whole feelings and deceit mumbo jumbo once we make sure everyone’s safe. And if everything’s fine, you can at least get some closure?”

Donnie pouted for one, two, three seconds before sighing.

“Fine. Why don’t you go fetch the ruffians so they can get caught up on the sitch?”

“Sure thing.”

The moment April left the room to get his brothers, he whipped out his phone and pulled up one of his self-made applications.

Now, some may consider tracking locations without people knowing as immoral or illegal or whatever, but it proved more useful than not, right?

Unfortunately - fortunately? - he had your location and-

Oh.

That was odd.

According to his, highly accurate and precise, records, your location was the Nexus - he rolled his eyes until he saw when it was last updated.

Nearly a full 24 hours ago.

Donnie sucked in a breath through gritted teeth; that was not good.

He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but April might’ve been right.

Something terrible happening was becoming more and more likely.

Quickly, the cogs and gears in his mind began to turn, devising a plan of action, just in case that anxious thought proved to be correct.

At least it would give him something to do. You were probably fine, anyway, even if he felt prickles of nerve-wracking dread down his spine, and it didn’t hurt to check.

Not that he cared anymore anyway. Definitely not.

(Taglist~

@rottmntsimp

@envyjmoney

@niphredil-14

@hamthepan

@valeave

@hahahhahananan

(I was right, I’m posting this from prom lol))

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