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mattslolita · 2 months

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thriller - c. & m. sturniolo ( 001. )

in which ... you find out the truth about your best friends and their secret on halloween night, under the full moon.

( vampire!chris & black!fem!reader & vampire!matt )

warnings ; blood, death, suggestive, angst, fighting, two separate endings ( matt version, chris version )

"𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

the sun was close to the horizon, almost setting on the west side of the continent. the leaves crunched underneath the shoes of eager children and restless teens, and the soft hum of the october breeze promised a very eventful evening for everyone — halloween was your favorite holiday for this exact reason.

fall was your favorite season, anyway — it was cozy, and the vibes were immaculate in your opinion, which you loved. but the days leading up to halloween are what excited you the most, buying candy to trick or treat and fun parties you'd get invited to. dressing up was one of the best parts as well, cause it was the one night of year where you could wear whatever the hell you wanted without the shame of others. but regardless of halloween, you wore whatever you wanted anyway.

your best friends were having the halloween party this year, just like they had last year — it was somewhat a new tradition of theirs, but you weren't complaining, especially with how big their house was. it sat on a lot of land, and you deemed them pretty much rich.

they were humble though, and more often than you'd like to admit you spent most of your time there with the three triplets brothers — nick was the oldest, and you completely adored him. you'd never say it in front of the other two, but nick had always been your favorite. you loved how easy it had been to talk to him about any and everything, and you were grateful having found such an amazing best friend.

then, there were the other two brothers — matt and chris.

they were your best friends too, of course, but things were slightly more complicated when it came to those two. everything was platonic between you and them, but you wouldn't deny the obvious attraction you felt towards both of the siblings. matt was gentle and understanding with you, always so patient as well. you loved that he was like that with you, which is what attracted you to him. with chris, you'd feel comfortable talking to him about anything — he also brought out the goofier side of you, whilst also putting you on a pedestal and treating you like you were the only girl ever. which is how you constantly found yourself second guessing your relationship with the two of them.

you were sat at your vanity mirror, applying the last bit of makeup to complete your costume — horror movies had always been your favorite, so naturally, you had to dress as one of your favorite slashers.

the eyeliner wing you had finished sat perfectly in place as you grinned at your reflection — the dark red, glittery eye shadow sparkled back at you. you stood up and smoothed out the black leather skirt that rode up your bare, brown thighs accompanied by the black and red striped halter top with sleeves. the final piece was the brown hat that sat atop of your knotless box braids, creating your look — freddy krueger.

nightmare on elm street were one of your favorites, and you had already done ghostface last year — besides, you know you'd get lucky tonight with how good you looked.

the triplet brother's party started soon, so you hurriedly sprayed some perfume on yourself before walking around your desk and to your bed where your small, black juicy couture handbag laid waiting for you.

you took your phone from the dresser and checked the time, seeing it was eight o'clock. a grin overtook your features as you could hear footsteps of children outside — when you walked over to the window, the sky had darkened and a cozy, yet mysterious wind whistled throughout the streets of boston.

with your handbag on your shoulder, you exited your room towards the living room where your younger brother sat with your dad, a bowl of candy sat in between as a film was playing on the flat screen tv.

"woah, y/n!" your brother said with wide eyes, causing you to giggle as you do a spin.

"honey, you sure you wanna go out of the house like that?" your dad asks you, concern lacing his voice as he skims over your outfit, "you sure you'll be okay? you got that pepper spray i got you?"

"dad, why do i need pepper spray when i took that pocket knife from the cabinet?" you accidentally admitted, making his eyes widen.

"you what?"

"nevermind, i'm gonna be fine, okay?" you say quickly, a smile gracing your features as you walked over to both of them. you planted a kiss to your dad's head, then kissed your brother's cheek. "i'll call you if anything happens. have fun!"

"you too!" your brother called after you, waving to you as you wave back cheekily and head out of the house.

the warm nighttime breeze carried a precarious, yet exciting aura as you began to walk down the street — the laughter of the young children have already rang throughout the streets, accompanied by various shouts of "trick or treat!". you smiled at the kids dressed in whatever their hearts desired, enjoying this autumn night with nothing to offer but tricks and treats to all.

the trek to the sturniolo household wasn't too far, as it was the only house down the road that sat alone. as you approached the end of the road where they lived, you could make out the silhouettes of multiple people having arrived already, a lot of them carrying different drinks with them.

excitedly, you make your way up the long driveway in front of you, stopping to greet some people that you recognized — psycho killer by the talking heads blasted throughout the entirety of the house, causing an excited thrill to course through your body; that was definitely picked out by matt, who knew it to be one your favorite 80s songs.

"y/n, you look so good!" a girl dressed as carrie complimented you as you walked inside of the large home.

"girl, you look good too!" you said back.

you looked around the house for the culprits of the party throwing, having not seen them at the moment. the house was decorated with spider webs that lined random areas, with multicolored lights that spilled onto the ceiling. you frowned as your hand rested on your hip, finding it weird that the three boys were nowhere to be found.

"hi y/n," a blonde girl dressed as cher horowitz suddenly says from behind you, causing you to jump a little as you turn to face her.

"oh...hi?" you say, confusion lacing your features. you've never seen this girl in your life honestly, so it was weird how she knew your name.

"nick, matt, and chris told me to keep an eye on you," she tells you, her gaze never wandering as she looks you in the eye.

almost as if she's under some kind of hypnosis?

"um that's sweet, but i don't need nobody to watch me," you tell her sweetly, attempting to walk away.

"stay inside the house, at the party," she tells you, her eyes narrowing and her voice stern.

now, you weren't one to take kindly to people telling you what to do — but for some reason, you felt a little weary at the fact that the triplets had someone watching you, for some reason. maybe they knew something you didn't?

"okay," you nod to her slowly, and she perks up and smiles. she imitates the gesture of having her eyes on you, before she walks away and disappears into the growing crowd of people.

as strange as you felt the interaction to be, you were not about to let it ruin your mood — you went to the nearest table with drinks, deciding on pouring yourself some pink whitney to start you off for the night.

"omg y/n, come here!" some girls from your class squealed, crowding around you as finished pouring your drink.

"hey, y'all!" you say cheerily, holding your cup up and blowing slightly, "i'm finna get so fucked up, i swear."

"I feel you on that one," one girl agrees with you, tipping her cup back as she empties its remnants into her mouth, "let's dance!"

the girls grab your hand just as candy by doja cat reverberates throughout the speakers of the mansion — you let yourself get loose, enjoying how you look in your costume as well as the electric energy flowing through you, and it wasn't just the drink.

an hour had passed by, and you had only had three drinks — you didn't necessarily need to get shit faced to have fun, so you didn't mind it. two guys had already tried flirting with you and playfully gave them the time of day.

but something else was plaguing your mind.

you hadn't seen your best friends at all so far, and it was especially weird considering this was their party. it also made you kind of sad that it seemed like they didn't seem to be looking for you, either. you also wanted to tell them about how great the party was, but they were nowhere to be found.

you slipped away from the dancing crowd, deciding that you were going to find them alone — didn't anyone else find it weird that they couldn't find their hosts?

everybody by the backstreet boys could now be heard, and you looked around to see if you could spot that blonde from earlier anywhere nearby. to your fortune, you were able to slip out the back door without her spotting you.

you smoothed your skirt once again, sighing longingly as you stood on the back patio of the huge mansion. you looked around, and it was slightly comforting that you were the only one outside aside from a couple messily making out near one of the trees nearby.

the mansion was in front of the woods, creating a horror movie kind of aesthetic to their home. you smiled to yourself at the thought, thinking that this whole setting would be perfect for one if it ever came down to it.

a branch snapping caused your head to whip towards the woods again, on high alert. you looked around, but nobody had been there.

looking behind you, you saw that nobody had followed you, so you cautiously began to walk towards the woods in front of you. a cold shiver runs down your spine as leaves prickle underneath your chunky platform boots, and the atmosphere suddenly turns eerie.

it was pitch black except for the party you left, which illuminated onto the creepy looking trees in your vision. a gulp rides down your throat when you reach the first set of trees.

another twig snaps, and your heart races wildly as you can hear your heart thumping in your ears as you continue the trek into the deeper part of the woods. it's eerily quiet, and you can't deny the goosebumps that crawl on your arms. but you were determined — you know that noise didn't just come randomly; you just prayed it wasn't some rogue animal that would come and eat you.

a breeze sifts past you, and you shudder and bring your arms up to run them over each other, feeling the fabric of the ripped halter top. looking up, your eyes have found the full moon — a twinge of red outlines it, casting a reddish glow upon the earth beneath it.

another breeze rushes past you again but this time, you swear you see a figure whiz past you too. rightfully feeling scared now, you turn around to try and catch the figure, but it seemed to have already vanished.

you probably would've been better off listening to the girl who tried to warn you, but you were too stubborn to really listen when you were supposed to.

another twig snaps, and you fully gasp now — you were sure of it now, there was definitely someone, or something that was there with you.

"is someone there?" you manage to say, your voice stern as you address the being who's trying to spook you. "this better not be some sick joke, i'm too sober for this shit."

another whoosh — but this time, the figure wasn't so careful trying to hide themselves, almost as if they wanted you to see them. your heart rate has increased beyond belief, you were sure it would leap out of your chest and onto the floor below you.

"hello?" your voice squeaks, less confident than before.

you make out hushed voices in the distance, causing chills to flood your body as you begin to back up — only, you bumped into a hard chest.

you gasp, but cold, yet familiar hands grip your arms, massaging your tense muscles. "y'know kid, you really should've listened to raleigh back there."

"c-chris?" your voice says, eyebrows furrowed as you turn around to face the man before you.

his cheeks are more sunk in than usual, face as pale as the moonlight above the two of you — his cheekbones are highly accentuated thanks to the moonlit glow. it isn't until he grins down at you, that you notice them.

the sharp, canine teeth that stare back at you.

"w-wha-"

you attempt to back up again, only to be met with yet another chest — the familiar ringed hand holds you in place as goosebumps ride up and down your skin.

"why'd you leave the party, y/n?" matt's voice asks, dangerously close to your ear.

"i just...needed to find you guys," you whisper, eyes still fixated on chris in front of you.

his primal gaze had raked your entire figure, drinking in the sight of your body and all of its curves in your costumes. he runs his tongue over his bottom set of teeth, eyeing you hungrily.

"can you control yourself, please?" matt says again, his grip on you easing only slightly, "when i let go of you y/n, you better not run. got it?"

you nod your head up and down, too focused on chris's gaze which has now darkened as he continues looking down at you — he clicks his tongue as he begins to take a few steps closer to you. "words, princess, we need words."

the nickname rolls off of his tongue so smoothly, embarrassingly having you weak in the knees. "okay."

matt releases his grip on you, your heart still pounding loudly as you take one step forward. slowly, you turn to face matt — his facial features mirror chris's, yet he looks down at you with concern and a sternness as he examines you.

"can one of you explain to me..." you breathe out, watching matt watch you, turning your insides to jelly, "...what's happening?"

chris chuckles from behind you, and you can tell he's shaking his head in disapproval — you hadn't meant to disobey what they asked of you, but your curiosity had gotten the best of you.

and it's how you currently found yourself in this predicament, second guessing everything you ever knew about your best friends.

a cold hand reaches up to massage the base of your shoulder from behind, and you suck in a sharp breath as you melt into chris's touch — his hand grips you firmly, gently tugging you back towards him.

"chris," matt warns, narrowing his icy blue eyes that are now tinged with a darkness.

"oh come on, matt," chris hisses, tilting your head as he moves your braids to the side, staring up at his brother tauntingly, "don't you wanna taste her?"

your eyes widen slightly as matt's gaze seemingly zeroes in over your exposed neck — he senses your vein before he can see it begin to show almost as if he'd hypnotized that part of your body to follow his command. darkness clouds the icy blue in his eyes as veins begin to show under his eyes — his canine teeth protrude out of his mouth as he stares with so much intensity you were almost certain you'd stumble over if it hadn't been for chris's relentless grip on you.

then it happens in the blink of an eye — matt's teeth sink into your exposed flesh.

the thing that surprises you most is not that your best friend had just exposed his supernatural abilities to you, but rather your reaction to it — a needy whimper escapes your throat as chris chuckles darkly from behind you, as matt feeds from the blood that flows through your veins.

a gasp sounds from your lips when matt pulls away, his cold, ringed hand swiping across his mouth as he sticks his middle finger in his mouth to suck off the rest of your sweet blood, whilst keeping eye contact with you.

"and look who couldn't control themselves?" chris taunts, swiping at your neck to get the last drop of your blood, a satisfied groan leaving his lips as he leans down to your ear, "tastes so sweet."

"fuck," matt says, his eyes having gone back to normal as he takes in your shocked and confused expression, "sorry about that, y/n."

"vampire..." you mutter, closing your eyes, "okay, i can live with this. what the actual fuck?"

"uh oh, i think someone's upset with us," chris tsks, causing you to snatch yourself out of grip as you whirl around to face him angrily.

"yeah, i'm mad as fuck," you suddenly hiss, prodding your pointer finger into his chest, "how long have you been keeping this a secret from me?"

"if i'm like one hundred and seven and matt's like one hundred and-"

"chris, i'm serious!" you say, narrowing your eyes at him, then you turn to see matt's guilty expression, "how could you guys keep something like this hidden from me?"

"do you not see what i just did to you, y/n?" matt says sternly, narrowing his eyes at you, motioning to his own neck, "this isn't exactly something you'd want someone you care about to be exposed to."

"even if y'know, you did like that bite," chris whispers in your ear, causing a tingle to go down your spine, "kinky y/n, i like it."

"shut up, christopher," you snap, causing him to put his arms up defensively, yet the hint of a smirk remained on his face. "why did you not feel like you could tell me about...this?"

"we didn't want to risk you looking at us differently," matt explains patiently, "it gets bad, y/n. when we first turned, it took a long time for us to get used to this side of ourselves — fighting the urges and having self restraint was hard when all we craved was the one thing you can't just normally going around feeding on."

you sighed knowingly, having watched the vampire diaries millions of times — only, now it was somewhat your reality. "matt, you know i wouldn't look at you differently. yes this is crazy as fuck, but you'd have to be heartless in order for me to ever hate you."

you smile softly and yank matt down to your level, pulling him in for a hug — you're pretty sure the bite on your neck was as tempting as ever with him being so close to it, but you were more or less focused on showing him your affection.

you pulled away, repeating the same actions with chris. he rests his arms on your lower back area, and you lean into his touch as you let out a sigh on content.

"now, where is nick?" you ask when you pull away from him, resting your hand on your hip.

"listening to this theatrical version of what simply could've been a 'hey y/n, we were turned into vampires about a hundred years ago, don't kill us with a stake please!'," a familiar voice says, before appearing right next to chris.

nick rolls his eyes at his brothers, before looking at you apologetically. "sorry for not telling you about it."

"i get why it was the last thing you wanted to do," you smile at nick softly, both chris and matt looking at you agape.

"so i get poked in my fuckin' chest and we get yelled back, but he practically gets a pat on the back?" chris says, "unbelievable."

"i'm sensing favoritsm," matt huffs, crossing his arms across his chest.

"i thought we already established a while ago that nick was my favorite?" you tease him, causing him to shake his head and scoff.

"what the fuck, are you kidding me?" nick says, his eyes narrowing on the mark on you neck. he walks towards you and examines it closely, before dragging a hand down his face, "which one of you two fucking idiots bit her?"

"imagine the shock when i tell you it was matt," chris snickers, nodding to the second oldest triplet brother.

nick whirls his head around to face matt, narrowing his eyes at him. "did you at least get her permission? if you weren't so careful next time, she could've-"

"yeah, i know, nick," matt glares, glancing over at you, "it's not something that's gonna happen again."

"if somehow you guys can't exactly feed like you need to, i'd be happy to help you, though," you offer, shrugging your shoulders, "as long as y'know, you don't bleed me dry."

"can't make any promises to that, ma," chris grins at you with a wink, causing you to roll your eyes.

"fuck, you're shivering," nick notices, looking upon the goosebumps that riddle your skin, "we need to get back to the party."

"everyone's gonna wonder why we all randomly just came from the woods," you spoke up, as you all began walking towards the beginning of the woods, "probably some secret satanic orgy, except nick's gay so he fucked a tree."

"how does that even- nevermind," nick sighs, causing you to giggle.

"y'know if you really wanna fulfill that fantasy..." chris whispers in your ear, his arm grazing your skirt, causing heat to rise throughout your body.

"you're such a pervert, chris!" you tell him, swatting his arm away from you.

( lilly's section 💌 )

so this was already basically finished before i posted my announcement about needing to take a writing break, so i just wanted to get this out sigh. for my angel girls @muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter ! i love you guys. 💌

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @chaossturns @cottoncandyswisherz @oliviasturniolo21

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cinnamongorll · 3 months

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a fragile line - chapter 35

read on ao3! (166k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 9.2k

Ethan’s POV:

The night of the dance

The scream rang through the hall, halting the music and momentarily stopping the hearts of every one of Jackson’s residents.

Juliet was out of her seat before Ethan realised what had happened.

He turned to Charlotte, matching her wide eye stare with his own and they quickly stood, following the direction of the scream. Ethan went first, pushing through the crowd, his fingers latched around Charlotte’s hand as she stumbled behind him.

Through the crowd, Ethan saw flashes of Juliet’s red dress as she staggered to a stop only a few feet away from the source of all the morbid excitement.

“It’s Matt, he’s hurt!” Ethan turned and shouted to Charlotte once he realised, raising his voice over the chatter and gasps around him.

When he turned back, Ethan watched as Juliet’s head shot up in the direction of the mess hall’s back door and he followed her gaze, just managing to catch the sight of Tommy pushing Joel out into the cold.

He looked down at Matt again and made the connection. Joel’s anger had found another victim.

Ethan tried to push through the crowd again but it was too late, Juliet had taken off in the direction of the door, following Tommy and Joel outside.

He stood paralysed. Follow Juliet or help Matt?

Charlotte made the decision for him, nudging past him until she bent down next to Matt, her skilled fingers reaching for his bloody nose. When she realised that Ethan hadn’t followed, she blinked up at him, gesturing with a tilt of her head to come help.

Ethan looked towards the door and saw Tommy walk back through… surely Tommy wouldn’t leave Joel alone with Juliet if he was going to hurt her?

“Ethan, come on!” Charlotte urged. Everyone at the bar turned to look at him, then moved back to let him past.

Ethan’s eyes darted towards the door one more time and then he sighed, shook his head, and crouched down beside Charlotte, ready to follow her instructions.

A few minutes later, they had managed to determine that Matt’s nose was broken, and through a short conversation, Matt was able to tell them three things: Yes, his nose hurt like a bitch. No, he hadn’t said a damn thing to Joel, and finally, Joel was a dick.

Ethan said nothing to disagree with that last statement.

There wasn’t much they could do for Matt until they got him to the clinic. With their hands gripping his arms, they managed to get him up on a bar stool and Charlotte put a towel under his nose and tilted his head up to stop the blood flow. Charlotte moved on to convincing Matt to come to the clinic but either Matt was too drunk or too hellbent on revenge because he kept refusing and shouting at anyone who could hear him to find Joel.

Ethan began to massage the tension out of his neck as his eyes drifted to the door again.

What if Juliet needed his help?

He tapped Charlotte’s shoulder, pulling her attention away from Matt. “I’m gonna go find Juliet,” he whispered, trying his best not to let Matt hear.

Charlotte’s eyebrows furrowed as she blinked up at him, then slowly she nodded.

“I'll be back in a minute,” he said louder, to both of them, and then he turned and began to stride towards the back door.

As he reached for the handle, the band started back up and the crowd’s cheer masked the screech of the door’s hinges as it opened into the dark, cold night.

Ethan steeled himself as he stepped out into the bitter chill, using the light from the mess hall to walk down the first couple steps and look around, searching through narrow eyes for Joel or Juliet.

It didn’t take him long to notice their figures against the wall across the dark alleyway.

He froze. Were they fighting or…?

Ethan felt the effects of the many drinks he had consumed as he waited in his position in the shadows, listening for any trouble. His surroundings were blurry and he began to feel strange, like he shouldn’t be out here, but he still hadn’t confirmed if Juliet was okay.

Soon, he heard bits and pieces of their conversation and his spine straightened.

“You’re mine,” Joel murmured in his typical dark gravelly tone. His voice was muffled as he leaned his face into Juliet’s neck, and his hands roamed down her dress.

Ethan flinched, taking a step back as the blow hit him.

He looked away as Juliet began to pull him against her, making those soft noises in the back of her throat that he’d only heard once or twice.

Clenching his jaw, Ethan realised he’d seen enough and he headed back up the steps to the door as Joel and Juliet continued to whisper their devotion to each other.

He pried the door open just as a group of drunk farming workers spilled out, singing and cheering. Ethan didn’t look back as he found his way inside.

The hot air hit him and Ethan breathed in a gulp of air.

Juliet was okay. More than okay.

He ran a hand through his air and turned around, unsure where to go, unsure what to do, unsure what emotion he was feeling.

Joel had left Juliet, rejected her, ignored her for months. Ethan was there to pick up the pieces, to run down the hall in the middle of the night when she woke up screaming for him, when she couldn’t face looking at herself in the mirror, when she was terrified to walk past his house.

Ethan was there, and what was Joel doing? Watching her from a distance, reminding her of the hurt, giving her hope then taking it away.

He didn’t know what had happened in the time they spent on the road, but Ethan saw the way Juliet looked at Joel… like he’d hung the moon.

There wasn’t room for him in Juliet’s mind or heart anymore.

Ethan shook his head, clearing those thoughts away. He didn’t care about that anymore, they were friends, great friends. Juliet was the only person in the entire world who knew what it was like to grow up the way they did.

So, no, as Ethan watched Joel and Juliet outside, jealousy wasn’t the emotion he was feeling… It was more like anger.

He was angry at Joel for throwing her away and then, now, for forcing himself back into her life. Juliet was happy without him, she had him and Charlotte and Matt. She had a life now, she didn’t need him anymore.

“You’re mine,” Joel had said to her.

Did Juliet feel the same way? Was this devotion mutual?

“Ethan? You alright?”

He looked up, blinking away the confusion that swirled in his head to find Tommy staring at him with a questioning look.

“Yeah,” Ethan coughed out, running a hand over his forehead, then crossing his arms.

Tommy shifted on his feet, inching towards the door. “Hey, thanks for getting to Matt so quick,” he said, then looked to the side, “I had to -”

“Get Joel out? Yeah I saw,” Ethan revealed, looking down. “It’s Charlotte you should be thanking, though.”

Tommy laughed. “Don’t worry, she’s already taken credit for the rescue,” he reassured Ethan as his smile began to die on his lips.

Ethan didn’t respond, he was too busy processing.

“Anyways,” Tommy cut through the silence, rubbing his hands together as he took a step towards the door. “I gotta go check on my brother.”

Ethan stopped him with a hand on his chest and Tommy’s arm froze on its way to the handle.

“I wouldn’t go out there,” he warned Tommy, then stepped back and began rubbing the back of his neck again in his typical nervous gesture.

Tommy looked alarmed and his eyes narrowed as he looked towards the door. “Why not?” he questioned.

Ethan scratched his neck again. “I think Joel and Juliet have made up.”

Tommy looked confused for a moment, then understanding painted his face and his shoulders dropped.

“Oh,” he breathed, looking away.

“Yeah,” Ethan said, filling the silence. Then he turned towards the bar, squinting to see if Charlotte was still there with Matt. “I’m gonna go see if -”

“I think it was my fault,” Tommy said quietly, cutting Ethan off.

Ethan straightened, frowning as his eyes found Tommy’s and saw the remorse that swam within them.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Tommy raised his head to the ceiling then crossed his arms and gestured towards the door. “I mean I think I was the one who split them apart… no, I - ah know it was me.”

Ethan waited for Tommy to explain himself, too curious now to let it go.

“Before Joel came to town I hadn’t seen him in years and when I left him, things weren’t good,” Tommy started explaining. “We did things to survive, terrible things -” he paused to shake his head. “It was too much for me and I left, but Joel stayed. It was easier for him to separate himself from the things we were doin’.”

Ethan remembered seeing Joel for the first time in Danny’s bar, sitting hunched over the bartop with a glass of whiskey. He remembered thinking he was an easy target. Ethan flinched when the memory of Joel slamming him against the wall came into his head.

He also remembered the fear that poured out of Joel when he realised Juliet was in danger.

“So when he came back here, I - I thought the worst. I looked at him and Juliet and I was terrified for her, I knew what my brother was like, I knew how easily he hurt people,” Tommy paused and met Ethan’s eyes. “I didn’t even give him a chance.”

Ethan didn’t know what to say but he felt the sorrow pouring out of Tommy.

“I can’t say I trust your brother,” Ethan said cautiously, “I can’t even say I like him.”

Tommy coughed out a laugh and raised his eyebrows.

Ethan flexed his hands. “But I was there when he found Juliet,” he said, his voice cracking on the last few words.

Tommy’s eyes flashed to his.

“Joel… Joel saved her when I couldn’t,” Ethan took a deep breath. “He did those terrible, awful things you mentioned but he still saved her… I think he’d do anything for her.”

Tommy nodded solemnly. “He loves her.”

Ethan winced and scratched his neck. Then, reluctantly, he nodded in agreement.

They both stood for a moment and let the words hang between them. Both men accepting that the people they loved might not be who they thought they were… and that was okay.

A bottle smashed by the bar and Ethan and Tommy’s head’s swung towards the sound.

“Shit,” Tommy cursed, then looked at Ethan, “I better go deal with this.”

Ethan’s lips pulled into a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes, then he straightened when he spotted Charlotte with Matt’s arm over her shoulder as she tried to usher him out the main entrance.

“And I better go help Charlotte,” Ethan murmured.

Tommy patted his back as they walked past each other, heading in opposite directions.

Ethan didn’t look back at the door as he walked away. Juliet was with Joel and Ethan knew that he’d protect her from anything this world threw at her.

He just hoped that Juliet knew how to protect herself from Joel.

…………………………..

It was the middle of the night before Ethan stumbled back home.

Joel had done a number on Matt’s face and it took a while to set his nose. Charlotte let Ethan take the lead on this one, but he assumed it was more due to the fact that she was exhausted rather than her assurance of his competency as a medic.

Ethan cringed at the door hinges as he tried to creep into the house, worried that he might wake Juliet. But that worry was soon eased when he realised she wasn’t home. She had been, he realised, as her bedroom light was on and when Ethan cautiously pushed her door open he found her red dress thrown over her bed as though she’d taken it off in a rush.

He closed the door quickly.

Ethan realised that she must be at Joel’s as he’d seen the lights were on when walking past.

They didn’t waste any time, Ethan thought with a grimace.

When he got to his own room, the exhaustion from the night finally hit him and Ethan collapsed on his bed, sleep taking him quickly.

………………………

A groan left his lips when his eyes finally opened.

It was so bright outside. Ethan threw an arm over his head and tried to go back to sleep but confusion gripped him tight.

Why was it so bright? It was never usually this bright in the morn -

“Shit,” he exclaimed when he realised he was late, very very late for his shift at the clinic.

Ethan jumped in the shower, braving the cold water as he had no time to wait for it to heat up. Within ten minutes, he was washed, dressed and out the door into the cold with soaking wet hair.

He stumbled past Joel’s house with guilt weighing heavy on his chest as he didn’t have time to check on Juliet. He was sure she was okay though, why wouldn’t she be?

“Look who decided to show up!” Charlotte sang when he walked into the clinic, shivering from the cold and heading straight for the fire.

“Sorry,” he murmured as he fanned his hands over the flames, soaking up the heat.

“That’s okay,” Charlotte sighed as she walked over to him and leant on the side of the wall with her arms crossed. “I’ll just have to dock your pay.”

Ethan grinned and moved away from the fire, then stalked down the hall with Charlotte following. “You don’t pay me,” he called over his shoulder as he reached the room where he kept his makeshift scrubs.

Charlotte paused in the entryway while Ethan shrugged off his coat.

“I don’t?” she exclaimed in mock horror, clasping a hand over her chest. “You should talk to your union.”

Ethan’s mouth curled into a grin as he hung his coat on the hanger.

“Maybe… you’ll have to make it up to me another way then,” Charlotte declared, her voice quieter without the edge of humour.

Ethan’s eyes flashed to hers, his hand paused on the edge of his flannel.

It had been like this between them for a while now, walking that edge between friends and something more. They hadn’t crossed it yet, but it was moments like this that pushed Ethan into thinking he definitely should.

His mouth opened to respond, but was swiftly interrupted by the sound of the clinic door slamming shut and a voice calling through the building: “Ethan, you in here?”

Charlotte and Ethan looked at each other, then darted back to the main reception area.

“Tommy? Everything okay?” Charlotte asked as they stopped in front of him.

Tommy smiled softly at Charlotte but his mouth thinned when his eyes found Ethan.

“What is it?” he asked, worry seeping into his voice.

Tommy shifted on his feet. “I’ve sent Joel and Juliet on a patrol, they’ll be away for at least a few weeks,” he announced in a monotone voice.

“What?” Charlotte and Ethan said together.

Ethan looked to Charlotte to make sure she was hearing this too.

“What do you mean ‘sent them on a patrol’? A patrol where?” Ethan demanded, standing straighter.

Tommy looked behind him as though he were debating leaving. “Just this town that needs clearin’, the boys on patrol have been making noise about it for a while now. Seemed like the right time.”

“Let me get this straight,” Charlotte began, crossing her arms over her chest. “You decided that the morning after Joel went insane and broke Matt’s nose for no reason was the ‘right time’ to be sending him on an important patrol and you’re letting him take Juliet with him, the girl he’s been ignoring for the past couple months?”

Ethan’s mouth fell open as he looked between Charlotte and Tommy.

Charlotte’s right. This makes no sense.

“I’ll go talk to Juliet, this is insane,” Ethan murmured as he moved to push past Tommy.

He was stopped with a hand on his chest.

Ethan glanced up at him and felt his stomach drop when he noticed the look on his face.

“They’re already gone,” Tommy breathed, looking everywhere other than Ethan’s eyes.

What?

“She left?” Ethan asked, desperately seeking clarification. Desperately hoping there’s been some mistake.

Tommy nodded.

“Juliet wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” Charlotte declared from behind them.

Ethan’s eyes closed and he took a deep breath.

“Thanks for letting us know, Tommy,” he said in an even tone.

Tommy looked between them, nodded, then left. Ethan flinched when the wind slammed the door shut.

“Ethan what the hell?” Charlotte argued, striding up to him. “Juliet wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, this isn’t right.”

Ethan shook his head. “She would,” he said quietly.

This made Charlotte pause, and she stepped back and sat down in the armchair by the fire. She looked defeated and confused, as though she was only now realising that she maybe didn’t know her friend as well as she thought she did.

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. “She would leave without saying goodbye,” he repeated as the thoughts churned around in his head. “But only if she was trying to protect us from something, like she felt it would be safer if we didn’t know.”

Charlotte’s head shot up. “Protect us from what?”

Ethan dropped into the seat opposite her, barely feeling the heat from the fire as he tried to figure out what was going on. “I have no idea,” he eventually answered, defeated.

Charlotte bent forward, placing her elbows on her knees. “Did you see her leave last night?”

Ethan nodded, winced, then questioned how much he should say. “When I went to find her, I saw her outside with Joel…”

“You’re kidding,” Charlotte exclaimed.

Ethan dropped his head into his hands. “They looked happy, I don’t understand why… why she would need to leave.”

“And she didn’t come home last night?” Charlotte questioned, interrogating him.

“No,” he assured her, then paused, lifting his head. “Well she wasn’t there when I got home but her dress was, so she’d been there at some point.”

“We need to check the house,” Charlotte decided, standing quickly.

Just then, the door opened and brought forth a sudden gust of ice cold wind, forcing a shiver onto Ethan’s skin.

Matt walked in, slamming the door behind him, then he turned and pulled down his hood revealing the horrific bruise Joel left behind.

He looked at Ethan, slouched over in the chair, then at Charlotte, standing over him.

“Who died?” he asked, reaching to grab some food left on the counter.

Ethan looked up at Charlotte, unsure whether to send him away or to let him know what was happening.

Charlotte made the decision for them.

“Juliet’s just been sent on a month-long patrol, did you know about this?” she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest again.

Matt nearly dropped the handful of nuts in his hand.

“She’s what?!” he practically shouted.

Ethan stood, moving to linger behind Charlotte, who turned to him with her eyebrows raised.

“So her patrol partner didn’t even know about this,” Charlotte observed as Ethan clenched and unclenched his fists.

Matt went to rub his forehead, then winced and dropped his hand. “Who approved this? Is she by herself?” he asked quickly, his voice thick with concern.

Ethan glanced at Charlotte, then straightened his shoulders.

“Tommy just told us,” he answered, then paused and took a deep breath. “She’s with Joel.”

Matt’s mouth dropped open, then he quickly wiped the shock off his face, swallowed rough and shook his head. “No, Juliet wouldn’t go with that psychopath.”

Charlotte’s sharp eyes cut to Ethan. Matt didn’t miss the movement.

Matt, exacerbated, raised his hands in the air. “What am I missing here?”

Ethan was panicking now. The shock had begun to fade as an almost debilitating fear for his friend overpowered him. Something wasn’t right here, and he had to figure out what it was.

Ignoring the piercing look from his friends, Ethan walked down the hall and grabbed his coat, pushing his arms through the sleeves hard enough to stretch the fabric.

Then, when he made it back to the reception area, he pushed past Matt to the door, turning momentarily as his fingers met the handle.

“I’m going back to the house to try and figure this out,” he announced, then pulled the door open, blinking away the flurries of snow as they met his eyelashes.

Charlotte was darting after him, shrugging her own jacket on, before he had even made it down the porch steps.

From behind them, Ethan heard Matt curse and follow after them into the snow.

………………….

“Matt, check upstairs. Me and Ethan will search downstairs,” Charlotte ordered the second they all stepped through the doorway of his house, trailing melted snow on the floorboards.

Matt’s head raised towards the stairs, then back at Charlotte. “What the hell am I looking for here?” he bit out, a muscle jumping in his tight jaw.

But Charlotte wasn’t listening, she’d already stalked down the hall, her eyes glued to every surface, searching for any clues Juliet left behind on her short visit home last night.

Ethan sighed and turned to Matt. “Just look for anything out of the ordinary, anything that makes you think Juliet wasn’t planning to leave.”

“You think she was forced into this?” he demanded, eyes wide.

Fear struck Ethan hard and fast, almost knocking him over.

“I don’t know what to think,” he snapped, then took a slow breath. Matt was just worried, like him. “Let’s just see what we find, okay?” Ethan murmured and patted Matt on the shoulder as he walked past, following Charlotte.

Matt nodded then started up the stairs with slow, heavy, weighted steps.

Ethan wiped a hand over his face, attempting to clear his head, attempting to put himself in Juliet’s mind. Why would she leave so suddenly? Without even telling him?

He shouldn’t be surprised, though. This was a typical Juliet move: fierce avoidance.

“What if… she just wanted to get out of town,” he wondered aloud, “what if life here wasn’t what she thought it’d be like?”

Charlotte’s eyes darted to him, and she shook her head. “I don’t buy it. Did you see her last night? She looked happier than I’ve ever seen her.”

Ethan dropped his head. “Yeah,” he muttered, blinking away the memories of a younger Juliet with hollow eyes and dark bruised skin

He went to take another step down the hall then stopped, frozen in place as his eyes latched on a dark spot on the floorboard.

“Charlotte, come see this,” he blurted out.

“What is it?” she asked, alarmed as she looked down at his bent position on the floor.

Ethan pointed his finger towards the black spot. “Is this blood?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Charlotte’s sharp intake of breath confirmed his suspicions. She bent beside him, then she pointed to an almost identical spot a few inches away.

“There’s more,” she gasped and stood, following the trail.

Dizziness hit Ethan hard and fast as he stood. He reached out a hand to stabilise himself on the wall, remaining there, watching Charlotte take slow, careful steps down the hall.

Then she stopped and turned back to him.

“It ends here,” Charlotte said under her breath, defeat seeping into her tone as she glanced at the door she stood beside.

The basement.

Ethan’s vision flashed white and he pushed himself off the wall.

“Ethan?” she said, blinking up at him as he stopped in front of her, scanning the small pool of smudged blood that lay beside the basement door.

Juliet went down to the basement… why?

Without thinking, Ethan gripped the door handle and pushed it open, descending quickly down the rickety stairs, not even bothering to find a light switch.

“Ethan! Wait - what’s going on?” Charlotte called after him.

When he reached the bottom, Ethan was hit by the memory that painted the insides of his eyelids on too many dark nights to count: Juliet, head rolled back, blood coating her torso, Elijah standing over her.

Nausea flooded through him.

If this was his reaction to the basement… he couldn’t imagine what Juliet must have felt.

“Ethan, please, what’s wrong?” Charlotte said softly, touching his shoulder.

Ethan flinched off her touch, then squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled several deep shaky breaths.

When he opened his eyes, Charlotte stood on the stairs, looking down at him with a mixture of hurt and worry.

“She was down here,” Ethan revealed, confirming his suspicions further when Charlotte's eyes glanced down at the continuing trail of blood.

“What does this mean?” she asked, eyes wide.

Ethan took another look into the basement before he answered, clenching his fists hard.

“It means we were right,” he stated, his voice hard. “Juliet isn’t on a patrol.”

Charlotte ran her trembling fingers through her hair, then straightened, probably already making a plan in her head.

“Where is she then?” Charlotte prompted, gripping the railing tight.

Ethan looked up and saw the fear in his friend’s face. It was an expression that was permanently etched on his own features when Ethan lived in Elijah’s town and was forced to watch as Juliet’s father hacked away at her soul day after day, wondering if a time would come when there was no goodness left in Juliet at all.

“I -” Ethan stuttered as the memories overwhelmed him. He swallowed and tried again, looking up at Charlotte. “I think she’s gone back.”

“Back where?” Charlotte demanded breathlessly. She was getting frustrated, and he understood. But how could he explain what they’d gone through?

Ethan looked back into the darkness of the basement.

“Home,” he whispered.

……………………

“This makes no sense,” Matt argued as the three of them raced to the mess hall, where they knew Tommy would be. “If that place was so bad, why would she want to go back there?” he continued.

Charlotte’s hard gaze landed on Ethan, waiting for an answer. But Ethan didn’t have one.

He focused on the sound of the snow crunching under their feet, trying desperately to formulate some response.

“Listen,” he started, “I don’t know… But being in that basement must have triggered something in Juliet,” Ethan tried to explain. “She was unconscious when we found her, and when Joel killed Eilijah. Maybe she felt she had to go back to confront things… I don’t know.” He shook his head again, frustrated by his own confusion.

“This is my fault,” Charlotte murmured beside him.

Ethan’s steps slowed, and he reached out to graze the back of Charlotte’s hand. She let him do it.

Charlotte stared up at him, her eyes red rimmed and glossy. “I kept telling her that she wasn’t processing her past and that she had to confront her trauma. I told her she needed closure.” Charlotte inhaled a shaky breath. “I did this.”

Ethan stepped in front of her. He must have forgotten himself for a moment because his hands cupped Charlotte’s face as he forced her eyes to meet his.

“You had nothing to do with this,” Ethan stated, his voice soft. “Juliet makes her own decisions.”

Charlotte nodded and looked away, but she seemed unconvinced.

“If Juliet’s on some mission to go home and confront things… Why's Joel with her?” Matt asked from behind Ethan. His voice hardened when he mentioned the name of the man who broke his nose.

Ethan dropped his hands from Charlotte’s face and turned around to meet Matt’s eyes. He looked hurt.

“Because he would never have let her go without him,” Ethan sighed, rubbing his neck. “I’d bet that Juliet tried to go herself but Joel stopped her.”

Matt rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, straightening his spine as he barked out a harsh laugh. “Possessive creep,” he uttered under his breath. “I saw the way he looked at her, it was fucking weird,” Matt grumbled.

Ethan scratched his head. He didn’t disagree, but they didn’t have time for this.

He looked at his friends, and sighed. “We need to find Tommy.”

………………..

Tommy sat at the bar, glass of whiskey at his lips.

Charlotte was the first through the door, stalking towards Joel’s brother with renewed energy, her guilt hidden away for the time being.

“Tommy,” she called as she approached, startling him.

Tommy was out of his seat, preparing for the worst.

“What’s happening?” he demanded, slamming his glass on the worn wooden bartop.

“The town’s fine,” Ethan assured him. Tommy’s shoulders dropped and he sat back down on the stool.

“Shit,” he breathed. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Ethan looked at Matt, raising his eyebrows, unsure how to approach this.

Charlotte had no such worry.

“Tommy Miller, we know you’ve been lyin’ to us,” she accused, then looked back at Ethan and Matt. “You’re gonna tell us where Joel and Juliet are, now.”

Ethan’s skin crawled with heat, he hated confrontation.

From the looks of it, so did Tommy. The man in front of them took a long drink of his whiskey and brought it down on the surface in a move so similar to his older brother.

“Don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” he replied, standing again and straightening his back. Then, he smiled, tight and forced. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta help clean this place up after last night.”

He turned away from them, heading for a group of men by the stage who were clearing away the empty glasses.

“Tommy,” Ethan called and they watched as Tommy paused with his back to them, waiting.

“We know something is going on,” he confessed, hoping honesty would appeal to his kinder nature. “We’re worried about Juliet.”

Tommy turned slowly, his jaw clenched tight. He looked at the three of them and no doubt recognised the look of fear in each of their faces. Then he dropped his head and sighed heavily.

“Look,” he began, “I don’t know what you think you know… but Juliet is fine. Joel is with her.”

“That’s what we’re worried about,” Matt said under his breath, earning him a cutting look from Ethan.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed.

Ethan tried to steer the conversation back on the right track. “Has she gone back? To our old community?”

Tommy looked taken aback. He blinked and gritted his teeth, looking only at Ethan.

Ethan’s blood roared in his ears. Please just tell him that he’s made a mistake, that she really is on a patrol and that she didn’t go back there.

Ethan held his breath as Tommy dropped his chin in a sharp nod, confirming their worst fears.

“She didn’t want me to tell you,” he revealed, wiping a hand over his face, looking defeated.

Charlotte had froze. Matt was shaking his head.

Ethan felt like he’d been stabbed by a sharp, brutal knife.

“Did she say why?” he heard himself ask over the sound of his own heartbeat. As they waited for Tommy to answer, he felt Charlotte step forward and place a hand on his arm. Ethan leaned into her touch.

Tommy shook his head. “They wouldn’t say,” he replied, then met Ethan’s eyes again. “But it was important… Juliet didn’t look good.”

Ethan flinched.

“Listen,” Tommy said sharply, grabbing their attention. “Don’t be getting any ideas,” he warned them. “Joel and Juliet are both capable, they’ll be back in no time.”

Ethan was shaking his head now. Anger was flowing through his veins. Tommy had no idea what their old home was like. Elijah might be dead, but he wasn’t the only monster in the town.

In the years that Juliet was away, when he was held captive, it wasn’t just Elijah that came to visit him.

“No,” he choked out. “This was a mistake, she’s made a mistake.” Ethan shrugged off Charlotte’s touch, stepping closer to Tommy. “I’m going after them.”

“Ethan,” Tommy warned, his eyes turning colder.

“No,” he repeated. “You have no idea what’s waiting for them. Joel murdered their leader, do you think they’re going to welcome them in? Forgive him for what he’s done?”

For the first time, Ethan watched a spark of fear flash across Tommy’s face.

Ethan was shaking now. With fear or rage, he couldn’t decide.

“They’ll die there,” he bit out.

Tommy stepped backwards, looking between the three of them.

“We have to go help them,” a soft voice announced from behind Ethan. His head whipped around, finding Charlotte’s face steeled and ready to help her friend. Matt looked between them and nodded.

Juliet had found safety once, and she left that to help him, to save him.

Finally, Ethan nodded and turned back to Tommy.

“We’re going.”

______________________

Juliet’s POV:

Present day

His heart beat slowly under her palm.

Between each gap, Juliet held her breath, fearing that it had stopped.

Joel was lucid for only a few moments. Enough time for him to mutter Juliet’s name, and then his voice ceased, leaving behind shallow breaths and a weak pulse.

Juliet thought back to the time he was stabbed at the university, when she dragged him back to that little house with the front porch. He had bled so much, Juliet didn’t think someone could survive that amount of blood loss.

She remembered when he had begged her to leave him, to save herself.

This time, Joel said nothing. There weren’t even any wounds for her to stitch or any bleeding holes to plug. There were just blossoming bruises on his face and chest, and a shallow wound on his head that had thankfully stopped bleeding.

The lack of blood did nothing to ease the terror that paralysed Juliet.

There was something wrong with Joel, a concussion maybe. She cursed herself for not listening closer to Ethan when he spoke about his medical training.

She did remember, however, that people with concussions shouldn’t be allowed to sleep. That was why Juliet had spent the past hour trying to wake him up.

She forgot about her own pain and focused entirely on shaking Joel, screaming at him, begging him to wake up, with short breaks in between to check his heart was still beating.

As the minutes crawled by, Juliet weakened. The adrenaline was leaving her bloodstream and she sunk down to her knees, her head resting on Joel’s lap.

She continued to count his breaths while she attempted to find the strength to get back on her feet. After a while, Juliet startled with the feeling of someone stroking her hair. She thought her mind was playing tricks on her, that her long overdue fever had finally kicked in.

Then she felt it again.

She shot up, gripping Joel’s legs to pull her to her knees.

His eyes were open, only slightly.

“Joel,” Juliet breathed, quickly jumping to her feet and ignoring the way she swayed to the side.

“I’m here, I’m here,” she repeated as she reached out to cup his cheek, blinking away the tears that blurred her vision.

He said nothing, Juliet wasn’t even sure if he recognised her. But he was awake again, and he was still breathing. Juliet could work with that.

They had to get upstairs, it was a miracle no one had found them yet. Maybe the mess left in the medic’s office had scared the rest of the men away, or maybe John wasn’t as inspiring a leader as he thought he was.

She had to get back to that medic’s office. Joel needed help, desperately. He needed disinfectant, bandages, fresh water, food, the list was endless.

Juliet stood frozen with her fingers softly stroking his cheek as his eyes continued to stare vacantly at her.

Being in this basement was weighing on her, claustrophobia was setting in.

Her blood still stained the ground, reminding her of the pain she suffered. She couldn’t stand to be in this dark, haunted room a second longer. Joel wouldn’t die here , she swore.

“Joel,” she whispered, then forced herself to harden her voice. “ Joel. ”

He blinked and continued to stare.

Juliet ignored the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

“We need to get upstairs,” she croaked, then cringed when she heard the sorrow in her voice. “I’m going to put my arms under yours and we’ll walk together, but I need you to try, okay?”

Juliet watched his jaw move and his eyes widen, but no words came out. She could tell, though, that he heard her.

“Okay,” she murmured, then bent down with a silent prayer that they could make it up the basement stairs.

……………….

Joel collapsed on the green, velvet couch with a deep, guttural groan. Thankfully, he had enough strength to keep his head up, so it didn’t hit against the arm rest and cause even more damage.

Juliet swayed on her feet again. She was sweating heavily and her hand slid on the wall she stabilised herself on. But that didn’t matter just now, she had to find some water for Joel.

His eyes had closed again. Juliet felt a scream rise in her throat but she swallowed it down.

There was some fresh water in the next room, probably melted snow. She brought it through in an old, worn mug, ignoring the way her fingers shook as she rounded the corner into the living room, then rushed to bend down next to Joel.

Her fingers continued to shake as she lifted the mug to his lips.

He coughed, spluttering some of the water but he managed to swallow. Juliet could have cheered. He was okay, he was okay, he was okay.

She looked behind her, towards the hall. Terror walked side by side with relief in her chest. Anyone could walk through that door, and Juliet didn’t think she had it in her to kill again.

“Joel,” she said as she turned back to him. Surprise fired through her like a bullet when she noticed his eyes follow her movement. Juliet swallowed, feeling energised by Joel’s exhibition of lucidity.

“I’m going to go get some supplies,” Juliet whispered to him, scared to raise her voice. She didn’t know how much pain he was in.

Looking at him hurt her, so Juliet turned to the side as she moved to push herself off the couch.

Strong calloused fingers wrapped around her wrist, halting her movement.

Juliet’s eyes flashed to Joel’s. He pinned her with his stare as his gaze swept over her bloodstained face and his eyes widened.

“ No,” he ground out, breathing heavy as he squeezed her wrist harder.

Thankfully, it was her good hand but the pain from John’s ropes still remained and Juliet bit her lip to stop a cry from escaping.

Joel eased his grip immediately and tried to push himself up.

“Don’t move,” Juliet begged, gently pushing against his shoulders, stopping him. “Please, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Joel grunted as he fell back on the couch, unable to push himself up.

“Don’t… go…” he commanded breathlessly through clenched teeth. “Not… safe…”

Juliet fought against the fresh tears that flowed down her burning red cheeks, and she shivered.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered, “I promise.”

Juliet rose quickly, darting towards the door before she could change her mind. She had to find something to ease his pain. He wouldn’t survive if she didn’t do this.

She hadn’t even reached the living room door before she heard his voice again.

“ Juliet,” he barked, grunting as he tried to get up.

Juliet squeezed her eyes shut, begging herself not to turn around.

“I promise,” she whispered, then opened the door.

…………..

Juliet stood in the hall, blinking away fresh tears.

She blocked out the sound of Joel begging her to stay, blocked out every crushing memory from this house, every thought that tried to drag her back down to that basement, and she switched her brain into survival mode. She had to be practical, smart, quick if she wanted to get across the town without another fight.

Juliet looked in the other room. The man she’d killed still lay on the ground, blood soaking the rug as his glassy eyes stared at the ceiling.

She felt no remorse, Juliet only saw an opportunity.

If she didn’t have the strength to fight anymore, the best she could do was frighten away any attackers.

Juliet rolled her shoulders and stepped into the dining room.

…………

Twenty minutes later, Juliet had tucked her lost gun in her back pocket and dragged the body of the man in the dining room, and the man at the back door, to the front porch where she piled them on top of each other, allowing the remaining blood to drench the wooden floorboards.

Then, Juliet wiped her good hand across the neck of the man she’d stabbed, gathering blood and used it to create a red X on the door.

That should deter any visitors , she thought as she made her way down the porch stairs and onto the street, legs trembling from the task of dragging bodies through the house.

Juliet kept to the shadows along the sides of buildings. She knew there were eyes on her, maybe the families of the remaining men who ran the town, but no one had come for her yet.

She just had to get to the medic’s office…

Juliet stumbled to a stop when the street in front of her suddenly went blurry, and the world turned on its side.

“What…” Juliet murmured as leaned back against the nearest building.

Her head rolled to the side, then dropped to stare at her hand.

The bandage was black, all traces of white had disappeared and a strange pus-like substance leaked around the stump of her lost finger. Juliet swallowed her nausea and a cold chill shot down her spine at the sight. It shouldn’t look like that, should it?

She’d been so focused on getting to Joel and keeping him awake that she hadn’t thought twice about herself. Even still, as she waited for the wave of dizziness to pass, Juliet’s heart thundered with panic as she thought of Joel on that couch, waiting for her.

She would get some banaages for herself too but she had to help Joel first, he was the priority. Because if she lost him…

Juliet shook her head violently to rid herself of the thought, then staggered, desperately trying not to pass out. Once she was stable, Juliet pushed herself off the wall and started walking again. Her mind pushed her weakening legs forward, reminding of the fear that struck her heart when she thought Joel wasn’t waking up.

Not much longer now , Juliet thought as she dragged her body down the street.

………………….

White hot pain fired through her shoulder when it met the cold metal door.

Again, she thought.

Her vision blackened, but the door made a loud creak.

One more time, she begged herself.

Finally, the door gave way as Juliet stumbled into the office. Her vision blurry as she noticed the metal examination table had been pushed against the door.

Were they afraid of her?

The thought ignited something in Juliet, she wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad feeling but she swallowed it down anyway and pulled her gun out her back pocket, moving cautiously around the table.

Someone had been here in the couple hours since she left. Juliet froze when she realised John and Danny’s bodies had been removed.

That was quick.

She shook off the fear and focused on her task. They needed antiseptic, any pain medication she could find, and bandages. Juliet could only hope that was everything, she didn’t have any medical knowledge beyond the scraps she’d picked up from Ethan and Charlotte, or tending to her own burns in the QZ.

Hope was fueling every muscle stiff in her body.

The bandages were easy to find. Juliet stepped over the puddle of blood and guts John had left on the floor, placed her gun on the edge of the counter, and used her good hand to stretch up to the cabinet where white material spilled out.

“Shit,” a voice cursed behind her.

Juliet grabbed her gun and turned fast enough for her hair to whip on the edge of the glass cabinet.

She blinked, struggling to focus her eyes against the dizziness that plagued her brain.

“Don’t move,” she ordered, tempting the tigger with her finger as her gaze finally swept over the two men in front of her.

They looked about her age and as Juliet continued to stare, she realised she even recognised them.

“Juliet, stop. We - we’re not gonna hurt you,” one of them said, his hands already in the air. Then, to prove his word, he nudged the man beside him to do the same.

She couldn’t remember their names, her mind was too fuzzy, but she remembered them as a couple of the other kids who also grew up in this town. They were always tucked behind their mother’s back, hidden away from the horrors that occurred.

Juliet was always so fucking jealous of them.

The sight of the brothers made her pause, faltering her hold on her gun slightly. She scanned them up and down and came to the conclusion that they had no weapons on them, but she kept her gun in the air, struggling to trust them, regardless of their past innocence.

When she didn’t pull the trigger, one of the brother’s tried again to reason with her.

“We just came to get some pain medicine,” he explained quickly, pointing to the bottles he’d dropped on the floor. “Our mother, she’s sick.”

Juliet’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought everyone was dead,” she said slowly, confusion fueling her words.

The younger brother shook his head. “That’s what we want them to think” he murmured. Then they both looked down at the blood on the floor before their eyes flashed to her hand. “We had no part in this, I swear” the older brother vowed.

In a move that went against every survival instinct Juliet had built up over the past few years, from her time with Blake, in the QZ, or on the road with Joel… Juliet lowered her gun.

She glanced down at that puddle of blood and guts again and felt only a deep exhaustion that ached down to her bones.

She was tired of killing.

She didn’t want to be this person anymore.

She didn’t have to.

Juliet looked at the brothers and wished she could remember their names. Despite everything, they had survived this town too and still had enough empathy to care for their mother.

“I’m here for the same things you are,” she stated, nodding towards the medication on the floor, then she looked the older brother in the eye. “We find what we need, then we leave. No one gets hurt,” Juliet explained. “Got it?”

The brothers nodded and their shoulders sagged with relief.

Juliet blew out a long breath and reached up to wipe the cold sweat off her forehead, before she swayed slightly against the counter.

“Hey, are you okay?” the older brother asked, looking her up and down.

Juliet hated looking weak, and despite deeming these men as somewhat safe, she still didn’t entirely trust them and couldn’t stomach the thought of them viewing her as an easy target.

Too much had happened in this room already.

Juliet tightened her hold on the counter, used her gun to point towards the medication on the floor, then looked up at the men. “I’m taking some of those,” she announced, then looked up at the bottle of disinfectant tucked in the younger brother’s pocket. “And that.”

The brothers looked at each other, then to Juliet’s gun, and nodded in agreement.

…………….

The bag she found sagged with the weight of the supplies she gathered. It now hung from her shoulder, aggravating the bruise forming under her skin.

Juliet winced as she stepped out of the office into the light. It was late afternoon but still bright enough to worsen the headache blooming across her skull.

The world was far blurrier than it had looked before she stepped into the building and Juliet had to pause against the nearest wall to catch her breath.

The brothers had left not long ago. The eldest one, Noah, she remembered, tried to get her to come with them, to shelter in their home. Juliet just pointed her gun at him until they grabbed their stuff and walked out the door.

She didn’t have time to make allies.

On his way out, Noah had told her that she better change that bandage on her hand, but he knew well enough by that point not to offer to do it himself.

He was right, Juliet realised, but once she had her supplies, she couldn’t think about herself. She had to get back to Joel.

Juliet had lost her firm grip on time and the minutes had slid through her fingers as she searched the medic’s office. What if he fell back asleep? What if he never wakes up?

What if she's failed him, again?

Juliet wiped away at the ice cold sweat that coated the back of her neck as she swallowed down the sickening thoughts.

She took a step, then another, then she stopped as her body swayed to the left.

No, no, no, this can't be happening here , she screamed inside her mind.

She was too exposed, anyone could see her here out in the open.

Juliet dropped her bag to the ground with a grunt of pain and pulled out a bottle of pills. Without her other hand, she struggled to get the top open as her fingers kept losing their grip.

She let out a long, gutteral groan and pushed the lid between her teeth, pushing down with too much force as she turned the bottle with her good hand.

Just a couple pills and the pain would go away and she could get to Joel.

With a loud pop, the lid was off and small white pills sprayed around her. Some landed in her mouth, some on the ground.

“No!” Juliet gagged, frantically trying to pick the pills off the ground with her bloodied fingers and push them back in the bottle. Tears were flowing heavily down her cheeks now. Her skin was too hot, the tears were ice cold.

Juliet looked up and felt the world spin again. Why did it keep doing that? She thought, bitterly.

She moved her tongue and felt the pills that had spilled in her mouth. Juliet was beginning to forget who the pills were for, and why she was sitting on the freezing ground. So, in a hazy effort not to waste any of the medication, Juliet swallowed the remaining pills taking up space in her mouth. There were only a couple in there, she was sure.

She had to press her good hand to her lips to stop herself from gagging again.

Joel.

The thought of him raced into her brain like a bullet.

Oh god.

Time was slipping again. Juliet couldn’t get a grip on it anymore. Had she been on the ground for minutes now, or hours?

With a scream ready to erupt in her throat, Juliet pushed herself off the ground, stuffed the pill bottle back in her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel.

She did this. She brought him here. It was her fault.

It was her fault.

Juliet almost gagged again, but managed to hold her stomach.

She was stumbling, tripping over her own feet but she kept moving. She just had to get back to him, then he’d be okay.

For a moment, Juliet thought she felt his fingers on her cheek, sweeping away her tears. It was pouring rain and the tear he caught washed away quickly. He looked so sad, watching her as she cried.

Juliet blinked and the rain was gone.

She turned, then turned again. Juliet couldn’t recognise the street she was on anymore. What way did she go? Where was Joel? Oh God…

She was too hot, her skin was burning. Juliet dropped the bag again and her fingers latched at her jacket, attempting to tear it from her body.

Before she could process it, Juliet was falling. She just managed to throw out her good arm before her face smashed against the ground. The frosted gravel dug into her back as she rolled over, scrambling to stand up again, attempting to crawl her way to Joel.

But Juliet wasn’t crawling. She wasn’t moving at all.

She lay still on the empty street as the world spun above her.

That was why, when seconds, minutes or hours passed and she tilted her head to the side to find the source of the new strange, but familiar, sound that drifted down the street, Juliet didn’t believe her own eyes.

Those weren’t horses, she said to herself. It was impossible.

Juliet’s body was still as the creatures approached. What a strange dream, she thought.

“Juliet!” a voice bellowed, first from far away and then closer all of a sudden.

Her head rolled in the voice’s direction and Juliet blinked rapidly.

“Matt, quick! Help me lift her!” the same voice shouted behind him.

Why did she recognise that voice?

“Fuck, what’s wrong with her?” another voice asked as hands were tucked under her body.

She struggled against her attackers, kicking them with all the strength she had left.

“Juliet stop! Stop! It’s me!” the original voice begged, gripping her legs with his hands.

She blinked again, her vision finally clearing.

“Ethan?” she said in disbelief, her voice heavily slurred.

The sight of him was like a bucket of ice cold water. Her brain grasped desperately for some clarity of mind.

“Juliet, oh my god,” a woman’s voice cried breathlessly.

“Charlotte?” Juliet croaked as the bitter cold tears descended her face again, dripping on whoever now held her in their arms.

“We’re here, we’re here,” she soothed with a hand on Juliet’s forehead, then Charlotte turned to Ethan. “She’s burning up.”

Juliet wanted to beg her to keep her hand on her skin, it was so cold.

Joel.

The sight of him on the couch flooded her mind.

“Joel,” she gasped out, but she was too quiet, they didn’t hear her. “Joel!” Juliet tried again, projecting every bit of desperation into her voice.

“Please you have to help him,” she cried, gripping the hand of whoever was closest to her.

Someone cursed.

“Where is he?” Ethan asked, his voice strained.

Juliet was losing her grip on reality again, it was dripping through her fingers like the seconds.

A clock was ticking in her mind, counting down the time she had left to save him.

“Home,” she murmured as her head began to roll to the side again.

-----------------------------

Okay you might have to suspend your disbelief a bit with this one. It's probably the most dramatic description of a fever you've ever read but we're nearing the end of this fic so drama is necessary hahah

Also sorry for another cliffhanger but the next chapter will be up within the next few days 😘

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#joel miller x original character #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller angst #ao3 fanfic #joel miller hbo #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #Spotify

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waywardxwords · 11 months

Text

The Fix - Part 8

Summary: Everyone has a past, but yours seemed to haunt you. You've tried to move forward with a normal life, but the day comes when that's not possible anymore. When Sheriff Beau Arlen enters your life, you're certain he is going to judge you just like everyone else in town does. But something about Beau is different.

Warnings: Slight language, discussion about drugs/drug dealing, slight angst, fluff-ish

Word Count: ~2.7k

Beau’s foot pressed down on the accelerator of his truck until it had touched the floorboard. He tried to get a handle on his emotions, but he wasn’t used to feeling this way and he hated it. He had always been able to use his adrenaline as fuel in his line of work, but this felt different. All he could think about was Matt Donahue’s words—“We’re going to offer him a plea.”

In all honesty, he should’ve seen it from a mile away. As a Sheriff and someone who worked with prosecutors on a daily basis, a plea deal made sense. The FBI weren’t interested in some small town drug dealer. They wanted the big guys. But he was too close to this case, and it felt dangerous.

The tires of his truck squealed as he pulled into the parking lot in front of the office. His feet carried him to the front of the building as he tried to slow his breathing.

The glass door swung open with more force than he had anticipated as he barged into the lobby. Justin Markham, the district attorney, stood there as if he were awaiting Beau’s arrival. Next to him was Matt Donahue, the agent Beau was getting increasingly annoyed with seeing in his town.

“Beau,” Justin started carefully as he read the frustration and anger across his face. “I need you to just hear us out.”

“Hear you out?” Beau bit back as he planted his feet just in front of them. “You call me, tellin’ me you’re offerin’ Jackson Lyle a plea deal. Jackson Lyle, the man who has been dealin’ heroin, cocaine and meth in this town for the last four years. The man who kidnapped his child, shot one of my deputies and then held me and the child’s mother at gunpoint?!” He couldn’t control the volume or tone of his voice any longer.

“I know you’re disappointed,” Justin spoke while Matt remained silent. “There’s a reason–”

“There’s absolutely no reason for us to explain this to you,” Matt sneered as he cut Justin off. “This one’s above your pay grade, Sheriff.”

“It’d be in your best interest not to speak, agent,” Beau snapped back. He turned back to Justin. “How do you expect me to keep the people of this town safe when you’re just gonna let this piece of shit back out on the street? What’s the deal, anyway? Is he even gonna see the inside of a cell?”

The DA took a breath and glanced at the agent. Matt seemed to give up and waved, as if saying he didn’t care and to just fill Beau in at this point.

“Let’s go to your office, alright?” Justin placed a hand on Beau’s shoulder as the three men walked in and closed the door behind them. “The judge is ready to sign a restraining order for the victims today. There’s no question on that, it’ll be very clearly stated to Jackson that he’s not allowed anywhere near them or their property. He’s already agreed to it verbally.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds great. Let’s trust the abusive drug dealer who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself,” he said sarcastically. “Fan-fuckin’-tastic work, guys.”

“Sheriff,” Matt said firmly. “We have an opportunity to get to the root of the opioid crisis in Big Sky. We can take out the source, and that starts with information we get from Jackson Lyle.”

“I’m not an idiot, I hear you,” Beau snapped back. “I’m tryin’ to figure out how I’m gonna tell the mother that just got her daughter back and has been afraid of this man for all these years that he’s gonna walk.”

“It’ll take some time,” Justin tried to assure him. “The restraining order will be firmly in place, and the FBI still has a lot of information they need to get out of him. He will remain in custody until everything checks out. We’re talking a month, minimum. It could be six months, for all we know.”

Beau sighed and rubbed a hand down his mouth as he processed. “Alright,” he finally conceded, more so because he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to change the outcome. He shuffled in his pocket as he felt the device vibrate against his thigh.

“The FBI has promised they will keep you in the loop along the way,” Justin looked at Matt pointedly—as if he was reminding him of the expectations.

“I sure as hell hope so,” Beau’s voice trailed a bit as he saw Cassie’s ID on his phone—he had received a text message. He scrolled to open it.

Cassie Dewell Hey, can you send me their home address?

Beau quickly wrote back.

I don’t have it on hand. It’s off of Arbor Road just off of Main. Why?

“I, uh, I gotta get going. I’ll say thank you for keeping me up to speed, but I’m still not happy,” Beau grumbled as he nodded at both the agent and DA.

“I’ll call you later,” Justin shook his hand before Beau headed back for the front door. He stepped into his truck and pulled his cowboy hat from his head, placing it in the passenger seat before he put the key in the ignition. His phone vibrated once more.

Cassie Dewell They left a note that they headed there to grab a few things and to meet them there.

Beau felt like he could scream. He knew there wasn’t any immediate danger after talking to Justin and Matt, but he also knew he had asked one thing of you—to stay put and just wait for Cassie to get there.

“Dammit,” he couldn’t help but curse as he squeezed the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

The tires crunched upon the gravel. He barely waited for his truck to stop before he shifted into park and threw open the door.

“Hey,” you said, a bit confused as you approached from the front door. You had heard the familiar sound of his truck pull up and decided to greet him from there. “You okay? I thought Cassie was coming. What did they say?”

Beau slammed his door shut. “Was there any confusion about what I asked you to do before I left? Was I clear, or do you just not care that I’m trying my absolute damnedest to keep you safe?” His words nipped, much like the cool Montana air.

“I just wanted to come back to get some fresh clothes and bring Bailey back to the comfort of our home for a few minutes,” you tried to explain with your eyes widened. He was mad; pissed, even. But you didn’t feel like it was fair. “Jackson’s locked up, right? Even with a potential deal, there’s no way they’d let him out right now.”

Beau knew you were right, but the fear just wouldn’t dissipate. “But if there are people lookin’ for him, where do you think they’re gonna go when they find out he’s locked up, huh? Where would they go when they realize that he’s probably gonna strike a deal for ratting them out? Who would they go after to get to him?” His eyes hadn’t faltered from yours as he took focused steps towards the stairs leading up to your porch. He stopped just before the first one.

You, too, knew there was truth behind Beau’s words. “So you’re going to stand out here and yell at me?!” You couldn’t help the rise to your voice. After what you went through with Jackson, you had sworn you’d never let a man control you like that again. Even though Beau was being rational, you couldn’t allow yourself to accept it. “You’re going to argue with me because I just wanted some normalcy again?”

“I’m arguin’ with you because I’m trying to fix this,” he sounded exasperated, though unphased by your tone. “I’m tryin’ to keep you safe.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Sheriff,” your tone was snarky. “I don’t need you to fix a damn thing. There isn’t anything broken that needs fixing.” You muttered, frustration burned your eyes in the form of angry tears. It was a lie. You felt completely broken most of the time, but your frustration had gotten the best of you and you didn’t feel like admitting it. Beau knew anyway.

“You know what,” Beau grumbled as he shook his head. He sucked on his teeth for a second before he returned his gaze to you. “You’re right, darlin’. You don’t need fixing. But this situation you're in? It makes me crazy. You don’t deserve it—an ounce of it,” his words were purposeful as he stood planted just in front of the first step of your porch. “And over the last few days, I’ve gotten to a point where I care…I care a lot. So I’d be damned if I put you in a situation where you’re not safe. Because when you’re not safe, I can’t even think straight.”

The air between you was tense, and you weren’t sure what to say for a moment. Beau’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he took. The air he blew out created small clouds, a clear indication of how hard he was breathing and how cold the air was.

“I’m sorry that you were scared,” you tried to dissect his words. “I’m sorry that I didn’t listen. I’m not used to this…” you paused as you tried to think about how you wanted to explain the situation. “I’m not used to having someone look out for me. I look out for myself.”

“You’re gonna have to let that go, darlin’,” Beau was still frustrated, but his tone had softened. His feet moved slowly as he climbed the first stair. “I am standin’ here, telling you I want this.” His voice was low as he took another step. “I want the hard times, the good times; I’ll take on all the crazy…” with one more step, he was level with you now. He stood there unwavering, and you found it hard to hold his eye contact under the weight of his words. “And if that’s what you want, too? Even better. But I need you to meet me halfway, sweetheart.” His voice was just above a whisper now.

Frustrated tears had pooled in your eyes again, but this time it was something deeper. Your life was complicated—it had been complicated—for a very long time. You hadn’t thought of sharing your life with anyone but Bailey for as long as you could remember. But here Beau stood, telling you he wanted all of it.

“How am I supposed to meet you halfway when you won’t open up to me? I barely know anything about you, Beau. You can’t take your walls down, so how am I supposed to meet you in the middle?” You folded your arms across your chest and stood your ground.

Beau broke eye contact and a hot breath escaped his lips. “You’re right, darlin’,” he said softly. His tongue darted out over his lips. “You wanna know my story? I left Houston because I screwed up.” He lifted his head to find your eyes again. “There was a case I was investigatin’ and it went south. I was followin’ the wrong trail, and a deputy got killed because of it. I panicked, and I wasn’t gonna take this job because of it. But I had to be close to my daughter and I didn’t know anything other than law enforcement. Nine times outta ten, I feel like an imposter in this job. But I promised myself I’d never make another mistake again. I’ve spent the last three years trying to fix it—all of it. Trying to fix myself, and tryin’ my damnedest not to screw anything up.”

He paused, and your heart sank in your chest a little. You felt overwhelming sympathy for him and what he had been through. “You can’t blame yourself, Beau.”

He chuckled almost sarcastically. “Oh, I can and I do, sweetheart,” he sighed. “But that’s besides the point. We all have stuff. And you’re right, I need to open up more if I’m askin’ you to meet me in the middle. I’m willin’ to do that…I’m willing to try.”

“I want to try, too, Beau,” you breathed out, Beau’s smile hidden for only a moment as your breath fogged in front of you. “I can’t promise we won’t have more moments of me not listening or pushing back on you…”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin’,” he drawled, just before he captured your lips with his.

Cassie had arrived shortly after and agreed to hang out with you and Bailey. Beau had said he had one more stop to make, and while you didn’t know where he was headed, you didn’t push back or ask any questions.

Beau had called in a favor, one he wasn’t sure would be granted. But for the first time since this whole ordeal started, the FBI had come through.

He pulled open the heavy metal door and prepared himself to go through the metal detector.

“I’m meeting Matt Donahue with the FBI,” Beau said to guard just past the security entrance after he showed his Sheriff’s badge. The man led Beau through a code-locked door that closed shut with a loud bang.

Matt stood there in his suit with his hands in his pockets. “I’m breaking a lot of rules letting you do this,” Matt grumbled as he glanced at the watch on his wrist.

“Yeah, well,” Beau cleared his throat. “I helped catch him, didn’t I? He’s been creating mayhem in my town, I think you can give me five minutes.” Matt rolled his eyes but started down the long hallway. Beau followed.

There was another guarded door with a code lock. Matt nodded at the guard there, who unlocked the door and opened it for them to walk through.

Beau glanced around at the barred cells. Chatter and yells from the prisoners echoed off of the walls. Matt stopped in front of a cell.

“Ah, if it isn’t the pretty boy sheriff,” Jackson Lyle sneered from where he sat on his cot. He had bandages around his shoulder and upper torso. Seeing that brought Beau a little bit of joy.

“At least one of us looks good,” Beau snided back. He glanced at Matt with a pointed look.

“Five minutes,” Matt repeated before he retreated back down the hallway, as promised. Beau turned his attention back to the cell.

“Ooh, what’s the pretty sheriff got to tell me, hmm? You hear I’m getting a deal? I’ll be out of here in no time,” he seemed so proud of himself.

“Yeah, about that,” Beau glanced down but then locked eyes with the man on the other side of the bars. “As we both know, you’ll have two restraining orders against you the second you step foot outside this prison. But I also want you to know, I’ll be watchin’. Every step you take, you’ll have eyes on you as long as you stay in Big Sky.”

“You say that now, but just you wait and see. My ex-wife can be a real bitch. You’ll get tired of her shit the same way I did,” he sneered. “She’s a broken woman. She won’t let anybody try to fix her.”

“Here’s the difference,” Beau was firm in his words and made sure he held his composure. “I’m gonna go in there and pick up the pieces that you broke. And she and I, together–we’ll fix it ourselves. While you’re only interested in getting your fix, I’m prepared to put in the work and be what she and Bailey need. You’ll never see them again, Jackson. And if you do, you’ll end up with a bullet between your eyes. I’ll put it there myself.”

A/N: And there we have it, folks! Part 8! Did we love it? Hate it? Surprised by our least favorite FBI agent's slight change of heart (or that he has a heart at all?).

It pains me to say, but this will be the last full chapter for The Fix! I'll post the Epilogue on Wednesday that will bring things full circle. I've struggled with if I wanted to carry this further (and while I think there are opportunities for additional development, I also sort of feel like I'd be drawing it all out if I kept going). All of that to say: I do think there may be a one shot or two (or more, I mean--who knows?) in the future. I really loved branching out and pushing myself to write Beau Arlen, and I truly enjoyed writing the reader & Bailey in this series, as well.

While it's not quite the end just yet, I can't forget to say THANK YOU! I have gotten so much love on this series, and I truly appreciate it.

See you on Wednesday :)

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epinebleue · 11 months

Text

maniac (m) | lee taeyong

when you try to summon your older brother, things don’t go as expected.

pairing: evil spirit!lee taeyong x reader (female)

genre: horror!au, mature, angst.

warnings: heavy depiction of death and blood, possessive behavior, explicit sexual content.

author’s note: i suck at writing horror, i’m so sorry. happy halloween!

You’d always remember that night.

How the moonlight sneaked through the white curtains, how the shadow of the naked trees in your garden formed strange shapes that stretched across the floor and walls of your bedroom.

Not a sound could be heard, as if the world itself had gone mute.

You moved in bed to press your back against the wall behind you, wishing you could blend with it. That way, you would be safe from the horrors of the night.

You squeezed your teddy bear to your chest, looking for comfort. You had tried everything, from counting sheep to mentally singing lullabies, and all your efforts had been useless: you just couldn’t sleep.

And suddenly, there were lights.

You snapped your eyes open, glancing at the blue and red lights dancing around your room.

It took you seconds to realize that they weren’t coming from the inside, but from the street. Curiosity had always been a personality trait of yours, so you got out of bed to look through your window.

The lights belonged to a police car that had parked right below it, from which a man and two women came out, the man fixing his hat as he walked.

You watched them turn around the corner, disappearing. Seconds later, the doorbell ricocheted around your house. Once, twice. The third time, you heard your father's voice in the hallway. When you opened the door, he was walking past it.

“Stay in your room.” He said, rushing to the staircase with bed hair and struggling to keep his eyes open, still sensitive to the sudden light. Your mother followed, putting on her thick, blue robe.

“Mom?” You called, the teddy bear still caged in your arms. You didn’t know much, but you knew that police officers coming to your house in the middle of the night couldn’t mean anything good.

“Don’t worry, honey.” She patted your head on her way to the stairs. “Matt, stay with your sister.”

But once your parents were on the ground floor, you exchanged an accomplice look with your older brother. Matt kneeled at the end of the stairs and signed you to join him in the rebellious act of peeking through the bars.

One of the women spoke, addressing your parents by their last name. Each of them showed their credentials.

“I’m Officer Walker. This is Officer Gallagher, and she’s Doctor Edwards. May we come in?”

As your parents allowed them in the house, the doctor looked up, catching you red-handed. A soft smile appeared on her face, but you went stiff, like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

“Hello.” The doctor waved in your direction. “I’m Doctor Edwards. I’m really, really thirsty. Would you mind giving me a glass of water?”

Your brother frowned at the doctor’s request. He thought about it for a moment before grabbing your hand and walking down the steps, heading to the kitchen. You locked eyes with your mom on the way, encouraged by her quick nod.

You took your usual seat at the table, the doctor sitting right in front of you. Your brother grabbed a glass and poured water into it, then handed it to her.

“Thank you very much.” Doctor Edwards took the glass to her lips. She drank a little and spoke again. “May I ask for your names?”

Your brother answered so quietly that she had to ask him again. When it was your turn, you spoke louder.

“Those are so pretty.” She left the glass on the table, away from you. “And what’s your other brother’s name?”

“Jackson.” You answered. Matt was distracted, looking towards the kitchen door as if something had caught his attention. “He’s in high school. He’s really smart, he’s top of his class.”

“Well, there’s something I have to tell you about Jackson.”

You could see right through the doctor. She wanted to say something but struggled to find the words. It happened to you weeks ago when you couldn’t tell your parents that you had lost your brand-new pencil case.

A sob reached your ears, followed by the heart-breaking cry that only loss could cause. Your little brain started to connect the dots as you jumped off the chair and ran to the living room and straight into your father’s arms.

The sudden realization that you wouldn’t see your brother ever again punched you in the gut.

You closed your eyes and wept, hoping it was all a nightmare that would end soon.

You would discover that, even though it was indeed a nightmare, you would never escape from it.

There had been a time when you thought you would never place the last box on the floor of your new home.

For two years, you shared a house with other students. However, you were at a point in your life where you desired full independence and privacy. All it took was a little help from your parents and brother to find a cheap but cozy apartment on campus.

“This is pretty nice.” Matt said, poking his head through the kitchen’s pass-through window that connected with the living room.

“I know, right?” You rested your hands on your hips, glancing at the empty space. “I’m so looking forward to decorating it, maybe painting the walls. What about white with an accent? Yellow would fit…”

“I’d prefer green or blue.”

“No, I like yellow.” You shook your head at his recommendations, pressing your lips together. “It reminds me of the sun.”

“Only you would choose the ugliest color ever.” He teased. The kitchen supplies clinked as he shoved them in the drawers.

“You’re wrong. Red would be the worst.”

“Red’s cool.”

“It’s cool if you’re going for the “somebody died here” vibe, that’s for sure.” Your brother kneeled to store a pair of pots inside your oven. “I’m going to need your help for one last thing.”

You grabbed the biggest box and opened it. The vintage gold frame was the first thing to catch your brother’s attention, but you saw his eyes shine the moment he noticed what it surrounded.

It was a photo your dad had taken during Easter at your grandparent’s farm. You were a year old, wearing a green dress with tiny yellow flowers embroidered all over it that your grandmother had knitted. On your left, Matt, who didn’t like having pictures taken, frowned with his arms crossed. He looked tall for a five-year-old, but then again, he had always been taller than the average. At your right, Jackson, ten, smiled brightly as he bent over to hold you by the waist, preventing you from falling headfirst.

According to your mom, you had seen something moving in the grass and you were trying to grab it with your little hand.

The picture had been the family’s Christmas postcard that year.

“We looked adorable.”

“Talk about you, look at me!” Matthew pointed at his younger self in the picture. “I was so grumpy then.”

“Just then?”

“That’s pretty bold, given the fact that I’ve helped you move in.”

You decided to hang it right next to the entrance door. That way, your brothers would be the last thing you saw before leaving the house and the first when you arrived.

The wave of nostalgia caught you off-guard.

Living alone was another milestone you had hit, one Jackson would never witness. You were getting closer to yet another graduation he would miss.

At some point, you had stopped grieving your brother to start grieving those things that would never happen. It made the overcoming of the trauma much more difficult.

Not only were you sad, but also angry. Out of the people in your family, you had been the one to know him the least.

Matt could look back and reminisce on the good times he spent with Jackson. He had been the one who taught him to play sports. You had also shared meaningful moments with him, of course, but the connection hadn’t been strong yet.

Yet.

Three letters that set your insides on fire. His time on Earth had been so brief, his departure had been so unfair. Many times, you found yourself wishing it had happened to somebody else.

Four people in that car, but your brother had been the only one to not make it out alive.

“Are you okay?” Matt muttered. You didn’t answer, simply rounding his waist with your arms. He stroked your back, letting you hug him and hugging you back.

“Thank you for helping me.” You said against his shoulder. “Thank you for always being there for me.”

“I’ll always be.” Matt glanced at Jackson in the picture. He missed his older brother, the person who had been his hero, so damn much, but it wasn’t the right time to tell you so. You needed a rock, and he would be it. “And he’ll always be, too.”

You had absolutely forgotten how big the campus was.

Your brain had told you that assembling your new bed at midnight was a bad, bad idea, but you weren’t known for being rational.

You were running a spicy four hours of sleep when the sound of your alarm hit your head like a hammer, a reminder that you had to be in class in less than half an hour.

By the time you made it to class completely out of breath, the teacher had already explained the final project and grouped students in pairs. So you sat there, waiting for someone to adopt you into their group, aware of the fact that you had made a horrible first impression.

“Professor?” A girl at the back of the class raised her hand. “She can do the project with us, we don’t mind.”

God bless you, you thought as you stood up and walked over to the girl and her partner. You sat beside them in silence, only speaking to thank them.

For the rest of the class, you took notes and paid twice the attention you usually would, trying to make up for your late attendance.

The clock struck noon, signaling the end of the class. As you put your stuff inside your bag, one of the girls called your name.

“Do you want to go to the cafeteria to speak about the project?”

“Yes, please.” You nodded, hanging your bag over your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I’m usually on time!”

You proceeded to explain the pain and suffering you had gone through at 1 AM after losing a screw in your wooly rug. Several hours later, you were able to sleep on a bed instead of on a mattress on the floor.

“It happens to the best of us.” The girl who had invited you to the group laughed, showing her perfect set of teeth. You couldn’t help but notice how stunning she was. “My name’s Heejin, by the way, and she’s Mihyo.”

The girl beside her waved at you, shyly.

“It’s nice to meet you, guys.” You said, opening a blank document on your tablet as soon as you sat on an empty table at the café, ready to commit to the project.

“So, you live alone?” Heejin took the spot in front of you, placing her things on the chair next to her, forcing Mihyo to sit by your side. “God, you’re so lucky. I’m tired of sharing my oxygen and personal space with horrible people.”

“I totally get it.” You replied, tapping the pockets of your jacket to check that your phone was still there. You had a bad habit of leaving your stuff everywhere, and your parents had made clear that they wouldn’t pay for another phone if you lost your current one. You had to be careful. “I grew up with two older brothers, so living alone has been a pretty big step for me.”

Mihyo and Heejin exchanged looks, a mischievous smile on their faces, before looking at you again.

“You have two older brothers?”

“How old are they?” Mihyo spoke for the first time. “Are they cute?”

“I think so?” You laughed, awkwardly. “Matt’s twenty-four.”

“What about the other?”

“Oh, he…” Even after all those years, you struggled to say the word. “He died.”

It slapped the smiles off their faces. As they rushed to cover their mouths in shock, you couldn’t help but be glad. That would teach them not to be so nosy when it came to other people’s business. You would excuse them, though, for the sake of your education.

“I’m so sorry.” Heejin said, attempting to grab your hand as if comfort from a stranger was exactly what you needed. You rushed to place them on your lap, avoiding any kind of physical contact.

“It’s fine, it happened years ago.” You rose to your feet, grabbing your bag. “I’m going to get some coffee and a muffin, do you want anything?”

You walked over to the queue, checking your messages in the meantime. Being away for some minutes allowed you to forget about the conversation and gave them some time to gossip about you. Two birds with one stone. You texted Matt about the weird interaction, promising to tell him everything over the phone that night.

Shoving it down your back pocket, you looked around as you waited.

There were students on their way to class passing by or just chilling with their friends on the grass. A certain someone caught your eye, a boy you hadn’t seen in months, only getting updates about his life through Instagram.

Qian Kun was sitting underneath a tree with an open book in his hands. By his side, you recognized two familiar faces: Lee Haechan, a computer major, and Na Jaemin, a fashion student. Haechan turned around to check out a boy who walked past them and whatever he told Jaemin and Kun about him made the pair laugh.

Kun had the most beautiful smile you had ever seen, and you would’ve spent the rest of the afternoon admiring him if it hadn't been your turn to order.

During the first project-related session, which took place at Heejin’s apartment, you realized that she wasn’t joking when she said her roommates sucked.

One of them, who greeted you with a growl as soon as you came in, had brought their boyfriend to the dorm, and the echo of the headboard hitting the wall was, to say the least, fucking annoying.

The other didn’t seem to understand that people were supposed to talk when working together, and she knocked on the other side of the wall every time you, in her opinion, were too loud.

No wonder Heejin wanted to run away.

“I’m so sorry about that.” The girl apologized to you and Mihyo once you were at the door, in the hallway, ready to leave.

“It’s not your fault,” Mihyo said, her backpack hanging from her shoulder as she struggled to shove the notes she had taken inside, “but we’ll need a different place next time.”

“You can come to mine.”

You were quick in your suggestion, refusing to go through that hell again. Heejin waved you goodbye as she closed the door, and you walked along with Mihyo towards the staircase, the air around you tense and heavy.

“Have you ever tried to speak to your brother?” The question took you by surprise, almost making you stop dead in your tracks. As you went down the steps, you allowed yourself to think about it.

“You mean like praying?”

Mihyo shook her head. “I mean like summoning him. One of my friends did it in high school with his dad, and he sent him a message from the grave.”

The want to laugh was so strong that you couldn’t help but snort as you opened the entrance door of the building. “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not!” Mihyo snapped. “He told my friend something only he knew.”

“Yeah…” You cleared your throat, making Mihyo roll her eyes at your skepticism. “I’m sorry to break it to you, but they were totally pulling your leg.”

The girl shrugged. “Don’t believe me, then.”

And you waved at each other before parting ways.

The idea of summoning your late brother was ridiculous. It would be a stupid thing to do and totally wouldn’t work. It sounded like the start of every bad horror movie.

You repeated it to yourself, trying to vanish that what if that constantly showed up in the back of your mind, slipping through the cracks of your most rational thoughts. What if it worked? What if you got to speak to your brother even for a minute, tell him that you loved and missed him so much?

Trying wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Mihyo and Heejin rang your doorbell at exactly 7 PM three days later. Mihyo was carrying a rectangular board under her arm and a plastic bag from where she took out six tall, white candles.

“Are we really going to do this?” Heejin asked, throwing you a look of concern, shocked that you had accepted to participate in the nonsense.

Mihyo scoffed, surprising you. She had been so quiet when you first met her, Heejin having the upper hand every time. Now, she behaved like a different person.

“We haven’t even started and you’re chickening out already?”

“I am not chickening out!”

“Then come here and help me light up the candles.”

Not convinced at all, Heejin walked over to the center of your living room, kneeling beside her friend, who handed her a lighter. You observed the scene from behind, your arms crossed, biting your lips in hesitation. But curiosity had taken over, and there was nothing your rationality could say or do to stop you.

Embarrassing yourself once you realized that invoking spirits wasn’t possible was the worst possible outcome you could think of. More than half of the world’s population had used an Ouija board at least once in their life, you were sure.

The sun began to fall and darkness covered every surface of your apartment with its black cloak. The only light in the room came from the candles. You felt chilly all of a sudden, the tiny hairs on your nape bristling.

“Everything’s ready.” Mihyo announced, placing the Ouija board on the floor, in the middle of the circle she had formed with the candles. “Come sit.”

You sat beside them, careful not to knock any candle over. The last thing you needed was burning the whole building down.

“Just in case you don’t know how this works,” Mihyo grabbed a triangular pointer with a hole in the middle and showed it to you, “we place this on top of the board and ask a question.”

“And then?” Heejin’s voice was incredibly shaky.

“Then, we wait.” Mihyo’s dark irises fell on you. “Ready? Oh, and don’t you dare remove your fingers until we properly close the session. It would be a disaster.”

Trying to swallow the knot in your throat, you placed your index fingers next to Minhyo’s on the pointer and waited for Heejin to do the same. You pitied her a bit. She had been shoved into this mess for no reason other than friendship. Eventually, the girl had no other option than to add her index fingers, too.

“What was your brother’s name?” Mihyo whispered after a few seconds of silence in which you questioned your sanity.

“Jackson.”

“We want to talk to Jackson, her older brother.”

The girl spoke loud and clear, with no trace of hesitation. It made you wonder how many times she had done this, as she seemed so familiar with the procedure. An empty hole was starting to form inside your stomach, growing bigger with every second. You felt dizzy and sick.

“Jackson, are you there?”

Anxiety crawled into your skin. By the look on her face, it was crawling in Heejin’s skin, too. She reminded you of a statue, with her eyes fixed on the board and her fingertips glued to the pointer. You couldn’t even tell if she was breathing.

“Jackson, we would like to talk to you. Are you there?”

You had to blink twice to believe what your eyes were seeing.

The pointer had started to move, slowly, to the side, as if pulled by an invisible string. With wide-open eyes, you looked at Mihyo. The girl had gone speechless. The pointer’s hole reached the letter H, then I, and stopped.

“Hi.” Mihyo said, trying to remain calm. “Are you Jackson?”

This time, the pointer moved even before Mihyo could finish the sentence. It slid to the right, stopping on the word No.

Who are you then?, you thought, following the pointer as it moved again.

“C, A, R…” Mihyo chanted out loud. You stopped bile from reaching your mouth. “E, F, U, L…”

“Careful?” You frowned, glancing at Mihyo. “Wh-”

A screech ripped your throat, only drowned by Heejin’s screams.

The pointer had been lifted and thrown across the room as if someone had launched it. The object hit the wall to your back, then fell to the ground.

You couldn’t move, you couldn’t breathe. Half-lying on the floor, you couldn’t look away from the static item lying on the floor.

You missed when Heejin, who was a crying mess, got up to turn on the lights, the yellow glim flooding your living room.

You definitely missed the figure that hid in the darkness of the hallway, watching the scene with amused eyes.

Two weeks had passed and you still couldn’t find a reasonable explanation for what had happened.

There were too many options on the table: a bad dream; a joke from Heejin and Mihyo, or even just Mihyo. But the dent on your wall proved it hadn’t been a dream, and Heejin’s reaction had seemed too genuine to be staged.

The three of you didn’t address the issue during your next meet-up, but Heejin refused to go to your apartment anymore, forcing you to book one of the rooms the library offered for group study sessions.

Weeks passed by, and you started to forget the event. Everything felt back to normal; everything, except for one thing.

You felt more tired than usual and it had reached a point where, sometimes, you even fell asleep without noticing. It was starting to become a problem. You had things to do and assignments to turn in. You couldn’t afford to lose that much-needed time.

“I’ll send you a photo of some really good vitamins.” Your mother insisted over the phone. “I’ve been taking them for months now and they work wonders.”

“I’m not a fan of pills, mom, you know that.” You closed the front door behind you, leaving your bag in the hanger next to it.

“Yes, but these are like gummies… Are you there, honey? I think the line died.”

“Send me the pic, yes. Mom, I’ve got to work on my homework, so I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Oh! Sure, baby. We love you!”

“Bye, mom. I love you, too.”

You ended the call, eyes glued on the dark, still hallway. Homework had been just an excuse to hang up on your mom. You swore you had heard something in your room, similar to footsteps. Your mind, trying to ease your nerves, told you it probably was the neighbors upstairs.

Even if you wanted to go and check, your feet stayed rooted to the floor.

And then, the sound of glass shattering made you run to the front door, holding onto your phone for dear life. When you opened it, a figure in front of it made you scream.

“Wow!” Qian Kun was holding his hands up, as scared as you. “Are you okay?”

“I think there’s someone in my apartment.” Your heart pumped like crazy inside your chest, close to suffering an attack.

“What do you mean you think?”

“I don’t know! I just got here, I was on the phone with my mom and heard footsteps in my room and then…”

“Calm down, calm down.” Kun gently pushed you to the opposite wall of the hall, away from your door, and leaned in a bit to peek at the inside of your apartment. Then, he turned around and whispered. “Is there anything I can use as a weapon? An umbrella, perhaps?”

“My dad gave me a baseball bat but it’s in the kitchen, under the sink.” You whispered back.

“Where’s the kitchen?”

“On your right.”

You watched Kun disappear behind your door. Anxiety was eating you alive, you could barely breathe and there was a possibility of falling if you stepped away from the wall, but you couldn’t leave him alone. So, walking as softly as possible, you got in on time to watch Kun grab the bat.

“Which one’s your bedroom?”

“The door at the end.”

“Stay behind me, just in case.”

“Wait!” You looked around the kitchen, trying to find something you could use as a weapon. A knife would suffice to scare off whoever was in your room. “Alright, let’s go…”

The boy made his way out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Your trembling hands held onto the knife, so hard that your knuckles turned white. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

He stopped in front of the door, glancing at you over his shoulder. He grabbed the handle before opening it abruptly, the wood panel hitting the wall. Kun stepped in, swinging the bat, trying to catch the person inside by surprise.

But it was empty, and you stood there holding the knife up, dumbfounded.

Kun lowered the bat. “Are you sure you heard footsteps?”

“I am!”

You brushed his shoulder as you walked past him, having noticed something missing. You rounded the bed to see what you were looking for lying on the floor: a photo your family had taken in Canada while on holiday, a few days before Jackson’s death.

Pieces of broken glass fell as you lifted it by a corner to leave it on your bedside table, where it usually was.

“That must be what you heard.” Kun supposed, leaving the bat on your bed.

“I guess so.” You muttered, glancing around to check if something else was broken. Weirdly enough, everything seemed in its place.

“I don’t want to come off as nosy, but,” Kun scratched the back of his head, “do you have any idea who would want to break into your place? A toxic ex-boyfriend, maybe?”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend, so I doubt it.” You picked up a piece of glass from the floor and left it beside the picture. You would throw them away later. “I’m so sorry about this. You have places to be and I just… kidnapped you for nothing.”

“Don’t apologize, you seemed on the verge of passing out.” Kun opened his eyes as if remembering something very important. “I’m Kun, by the way.”

“I know.” You tried to fight the smile that was about to appear on your face. “You’re the golden boy of campus.”

“I thought people had stopped calling me that.” You told him your name when he asked. “You should change the lock, by the way, just in case.”

“Yeah, I better do that.”

After a few seconds of silence, Kun spoke again, with genuine worry.

“Do you want me to stay a bit longer? I don’t mind.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, you thanked him. Your heartbeat seemed to have gone back to normal, but you were still shaken. And confused.

Maybe you were lacking sleep, but you weren’t making up stuff. Someone had been in your room, someone had broken the picture.

But who? And why?

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Water’s fine.”

A pair of orbs followed you both as you left the room, the pieces of broken glass, the bat, and the knife long forgotten. He clenched his jaw.

He hadn’t expected an obstacle.

Thanks to the cozy lighting of your lamp and the smell of lavender coming out of your diffuser, you truly relaxed for the first time in weeks.

You didn’t even flinch when the footsteps in the hallway approached, slowly. The moment they reached your door, they ceased.

You didn’t have to wait much for the visitor to reveal himself.

In front of you, there was a boy. A pair of black sweatpants was the only garment he wore. It allowed you to admire his pale skin, which contrasted with his charcoal hair.

He stood by the door, admiring you from afar. Then, he spoke.

“Are you scared?” To your surprise, you shook your head. “Why not?”

“I like the company.” You replied, giving him a sad smile. “I feel lonely.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Again, you shook your head. The boy walked towards the bed, his gaze on you the whole time. “What do you want?”

On all fours, you crawled to the edge of the mattress, hands going up to touch his neck. The skin was cold. It made you shiver, but you didn’t find it uncomfortable; quite the opposite. You craved more contact.

“I want you.”

The boy looked down, getting lost in your eyes. He smirked, realizing that kneeling like that in front of him made it seem as if you were worshiping him. In a way, you were. You just didn’t know it yet.

He caressed your cheek with a stone-cold finger. You closed your eyes at his touch, mouth falling open.

“What’s my name?”

And although you didn’t know, it rolled out of your tongue naturally.

“Taeyong.”

You heard him hiss.

“Open your eyes.”

You obeyed. His skin was no longer pale, but it still felt cold against yours. You swore his eyes had gotten darker. At the sight, you pressed your thighs together.

“Now, lay down.”

You did as you were told, falling on the messy covers of your bed. Taeyong’s hands found your ankles. He caressed the skin with his palms, all the way up to your panties. Your breath hitched as he hooked his fingers in the elastic band, pulling down and letting them fall on the floor.

What followed was your pajama shirt, and soon you found yourself naked in front of Taeyong. No one, except for your mother, had ever seen you naked.

He scanned your body for a few seconds, his eyes finally landing on your breasts.

“You’re a beautiful creature.” Taeyong whispered, placing one knee on the mattress. Your stomach tingled in anticipation as he settled in the space between your legs. “Have you been touched before?”

You avoided looking at Taeyong’s face out of embarrassment. However, his breath hitting your wet core kept you well aware of his position. “No.”

Next thing you knew, he was pressing his open mouth against your entrance, sighing at the taste. You gripped the blue sheets beneath you, getting lost in the foreign but amazing feeling.

His tongue was warm and soft. He licked you eagerly, as if he had been waiting for this moment for years. He dragged his tongue from your folds to your clit, closing his lips around the sensitive bud.

Something cold pressed against your entrance, and the contrast between it and your burning walls had you squirming away, only for Taeyong to grab your thighs to keep you in place.

Taeyong inserted a long digit inside you, your velvet walls especially welcoming. The tightness of your pussy reminded him that he was the first person to ever stretch you like that. It made his dick twitch in his pants. He was greedy, and the way you swallowed him served as an encouragement to pull out, shoving two fingers instead. He heard you curse as his mouth released your clit.

You were a sight for sore eyes: moans spilling from your mouth, holding onto the sheets to ground yourself.

“Does it feel good?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.” You sighed, licking your dry lips.

The boy pumped his fingers slowly, enamored by the way they disappeared into you and the noises your arousal made each time. Soon he found himself setting a faster pace that had you arching your back, hands falling on his dark hair.

It didn’t feel like your first time at all.

There was no pressure, no doubts. Taeyong knew how and where you liked being touched. There was a connection between the two of you, something difficult to explain.

Taeyong’s tongue found your clit again, and you grabbed a fist of his hair. The growl he let out made you grind against his face. Taeyong stood still, letting you fuck his tongue, but never ceased the movement of his fingers, pushing them further.

Your orgasm wasn’t far, you knew even though you had never felt anything like that. It was like a wave that hit you hard, bruising your skin.

Taeyong, amazed, watched as you came. Your walls hugged his fingers so tightly, you tasted so fucking good. He couldn’t stop, he just couldn’t.

But the overstimulation was unbearable and, eventually, you moved away.

Under your attentive gaze, Taeyong took off his pants. He was thin enough for his hip bones to stick out. His biceps flexed as he grabbed your thighs once again, sliding your body down the bed. His pale skin glowed under the light in an iridescent effect that got you hypnotized.

It was easy for Taeyong to slip into you, being fresh out of an orgasm.

You had seen a lot of movies about first times, fantasizing about your own. Not in a million years would you have imagined all the sensations it would bring.

It hurt a little, but you bit your lower lip, not wanting to look like a loser who couldn’t take dick. Taeyong caressed your frowned forehead in an attempt to ease your pain, but he kept on pushing, only satisfied once he was balls-deep in.

The sting of pain was an open wound that Taeyong tried to stitch up by leaning down to whisper words of encouragement in your ear.

And it worked.

He had barely been inside you, but you wanted him to move. You wanted to know what sex felt like. You wanted the pleasure, the passion, all of it.

Moving your hips made Taeyong understand. He pulled out slowly, only to thrust back again roughly, making you gasp and whine.

Taeyong leaned down, pressing his bony chest against yours, and took the opportunity to make you round his hips with your legs. You fit together perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle.

“You take me so well.” He confessed, quietly, as if the walls could hear. “You’re made for me.”

And, for the first time, Taeyong grabbed your face with his long digits and kissed you. It was passionate, messy, needy. His lips and tongue, once cold as ice, were like a spring day now.

There was a subtle change in the mood. Taeyong was well aware that something had shifted inside him, a change of priorities. You were top on the list now, and he would treat you as such.

He increased his pace with every thrust. You embraced his shoulders, further pressing him against your chest. Not once did Taeyong stop kissing you. He would swallow your noises like the most expensive wine.

“You’re close.” Taeyong said at your walls trapping his dick. You simply nodded, eyes shut, looking for his lips in the dark. He sat up, grabbing a handful of your breasts and squeezing them.

Your hands flew up to grab his wrists.

“Taeyong…”

“Yes.” That proud tone was such a turn-on. You wondered if you were losing your mind. “Say it again.”

Your voice barely made it out as he pounded mercilessly into you. There was a weird feeling in your tummy.

“Taeyong!”

An electric shock crossed your body from top to bottom. Taeyong exploded into you, letting out a grunt that covered your skin in goosebumps.

You were awake. Strands of hair stuck to your sweaty forehead, and the sheets beneath you were uncomfortably damp.

You touched your entrance with your middle finger, moving your hand away the moment you felt the wetness.

What the hell had just happened?

Forming a friendship with Kun wasn’t on your bucket list for the year, but you guessed it was bound to happen.

Ramen nights on Fridays became a tradition and meeting up to study in the library was mandatory.

Everything you have heard about his persona before actually knowing him turned out to be true.

He was the kind of person to choose his words carefully, speaking his mind with the utmost respect towards everyone. Always the smartest person in the room, you couldn’t help but stare at him with tender eyes, amazed by the knowledge he carried.

Falling in love with him was bound to happen.

“I’m choosing the movie next time.” Kun grunted at your words, putting his coat on.

“It wasn’t as bad as you’re making it seem!”

“I literally predicted the ending as soon as it started.” You smarted, your only purpose being as annoying as possible. “It was bad.”

“Fine.” He walked over to your door but didn’t open it. “Should I bring candy next time as an apology?”

The fact that he knew you loved sweets made you smile.

“It’ll do.”

None of you moved. Kun glanced at the picture by the door, giving you the feeling that he was trying to stick around a little more.

You wouldn’t complain.

“I want to ask you something, but I don’t want to look stupid.”

You quickly responded.

“You’d never look stupid.”

“Do you have feelings for me?”

You wondered if your sincerity would take a toll on your friendship. But if Kun was asking, there had to be a reason.

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Because,” Kun sighed, “I have feelings for you.”

You couldn’t help it. You tiptoed and crashed your lips against his. They were soft, just like him.

The kiss was a dream come true. You held onto the collar of his coat and he grabbed the sides of your face, both pulling each other closer, and giggled when you had to break it off to catch some air.

He left shortly after, having set a day for your first official date. You had wondered if you should have invited him to spend the night, but Kun was a gentleman.

He would never.

That night, Taeyong burst into your room like a hurricane. He threw every single item on your vanity to the floor. He punched the mirror, which broke under his fist, yet not a single drop of blood stained his skin.

There wasn’t an ounce of fear in your system, deep down knowing the reason why Taeyong was so mad.

He locked eyes with his disfigured reflection in the mirror before turning around.

“Do you love him?” He asked, his nostrils flaring up.

You shrugged. “I like him.”

“Do you love him?” Taeyong repeated. Finding no answer, he straightened his back. “What’s my name?”

“Taeyong.”

“Do you love me?”

“I desire you.”

He wasn’t satisfied with your answer, though knew better than trying to change your mind. He told you to turn around, his dark voice sending shivers down your spine. You got on all fours and waited.

Where Taeyong had been kind and gentle the first time, he was rough and violent. He ripped your underwear in half, making you gasp, and he grabbed your hair as he forced his way into you, ignoring the whimper you let out.

His thrusts were erratic. You knew he wasn’t chasing his high or yours, he just wanted to cause pain, inflict dominance. He wanted you to know who was in charge, who you belonged to.

And you allowed him to have you his way, equally drown in pleasure and worry. You weren't yourself when you were with him, he unleashed a side of yourself you couldn't recognize.

Taeyong freed your hair, but his hands soon closed around your neck. Air got stuck in your throat as you desperately tried to inhale.

He wasn’t playing.

“If you bring him here again…” He growled, his demonic tone ringing in your ear. “I’ll kill him.”

You lurched awake, gasping for air.

There was no way that had been just a dream. It had felt too vivid, too real for it to be a figment of your imagination.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, adrenaline still pretty much flowed through your veins.

Something felt off.

The light coming from the streetlamps was dim, yet it allowed you to scan the room.

The door was open, but you couldn’t put your finger on whether you had left it that way before crawling into bed. Your eyes moved towards your vanity and mirror; nothing out of place. You caught movement from the corner of your eye in the wall beside your window. Squinting, you tried to make out a figure in the darkness.

And you found it.

He had been observing you way before you saw him, inhaling your fear like the best drug ever made.

With no reason to keep hiding, Taeyong took a step into the light. He looked at you with the intensity of a predator about to kill, but you couldn’t move.

Taeyong opened his mouth.

“Hi.”

You jumped out of the covers, falling to the floor because of your numb legs. You looked back to Taeyong, who had taken a step closer, and crawled towards the switch on the other side of the room.

His footsteps were light, but his presence was strong. You knew where he was even if you couldn’t hear him.

You punched the switch before turning around. Under the lights, everything seemed perfectly fine.

But your uneasy heart and shaking body knew better. They knew that Taeyong was still hiding in the darkest spot he could find, observing.

Waiting.

Your apartment was haunted.

Nothing else could explain all the things that had been happening ever since the Ouija session went wrong.

Getting help was urgent, and you knew exactly where to find it.

That’s how you found yourself knocking on Mihyo’s door eagerly on the morning of the next day. A wave of surprise washed over her face as soon as she saw you.

“Oh…” She muttered. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You hesitated for a moment. “I have to talk to you. Can I?”

Mihyo took a step to the side, letting you in. You sat on her couch, drying your sweaty palms by rubbing them against the rough fabric of your jeans. Mihyo sat on an armchair, in front of you, and waited.

You didn't know how or where to start. Although Mihyo was familiar with the paranormal world, you feared she would think you were losing your mind. Hell, even you did!

“So, what’s wrong?”

“Please, don’t think that I’m crazy.” You began, aware that the phrase would set a difficult start. “Ever since the… incident, weird things have been happening in my apartment.”

“What do you mean by weird?”

You breathed in, trying to calm your nerves. Recalling the events gave you chills.

“Some weeks ago, I heard footsteps in my bedroom, and even though no one was there when I came in, a picture I had on my bedside table was on the floor. But the worst thing is that I’ve been seeing someone, a man, in my dreams. And not only in my dreams. I think he’s haunting me.”

Mihyo bit her lip throughout your confession, finding it hard to make eye contact with you. During the few seconds in which nothing, not even your breath, could be heard in the living room, you thought that perhaps you were a little bit crazy. You definitely sounded like it.

“I’m going to ask you something, but don’t take it the wrong way.” Mihyo spoke. “Have you, like… had sex with this man? In those dreams?”

The fact that she was asking gave you goosebumps, because it meant she knew something that you didn’t, and judging by her tone, it wasn’t good news.

Slowly, you nodded.

“Are you a virgin?”

Awkwardly, you switched your position on the sofa, playing with your fingers. “Yes.”

Mihyo straightened her back, sighing.

“Well, the good news is that you aren’t insane. The bad news is that you’re right.” As you rubbed your face, unable to form any coherent sentence, Mihyo continued. “Apparently, there are some ghosts that prey on virgins, using sex as an energy drainer. Have you felt more tired lately?”

“I have, but I thought I was just burnt out.”

“He’s feeding on your energy to get stronger. That way, he’ll be capable of crossing the threshold and stepping into our world. If he does so, he’ll be able to do whatever he wants.”

You blinked twice, speechless. The situation was simply overwhelming.

“So, basically, I’m fucked.” Mihyo couldn’t even disagree. “But if we were invoking Jackson, why did he appear?”

“An Ouija board isn’t a phone, you see? The person answering might not be the one you were calling.” You cursed under your breath. “I guess he has been waiting for someone to open the door, you know?”

“What do I do, Mihyo?” Your lip trembled, and upon seeing you on the verge of tears, Mihyo sat down next to you, patting your back. “Should I move out?”

“The apartment isn’t the problem. He’s stuck to you. He’ll follow, wherever you go.” A sob ripped your throat. If only you had known better. “But don’t worry, we can fix this. We must open the session again and close it properly this time. The only problem is, those who were there the first time should be there again.”

Obviously, it was Heejin Mihyo was referring to. To be honest, you wouldn’t blame her if she refused.

“How’s she doing?”

“We barely speak now.” Mihyo admitted, rather sadly. “She’s been avoiding me, but her roommates told me she has been acting weird: she can barely sleep, she’s having nightmares, and she’s not doing well in class.”

The burden of guilt felt right on your back.

“God, how could we’ve been so stupid?”

“I’ll convince her.” Mihyo took your hand, trying to give you the illusion of safety. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix this.”

Much to your surprise, you found them both waiting at your door.

Mihyo was right, she looked terrible. She had bags under her eyes and had bitten her nails to the point of gnawing on the skin. Although the wounds had been tried to be covered with bandaids, you could still see them. It looked like she hadn’t washed her hair in weeks. Heejin muttered a low hello to you, and nothing else came from her mouth.

A blast of cold air hit your face the moment you stepped into your place, making you shiver, but not from the cold. It came from a window that you didn’t remember leaving open, but you knew better than to scare Heejin to death. You simply walked towards the window and closed it.

Just like the first time, Mihyo lit up candles and placed them on the floor, forming a circle with the Ouija board in the middle.

You couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of something possibly going wrong, very wrong. But, if you wanted your old life back, you had to suck it up and solve it, so you were the first to sit in front of the board and place your index fingers on the pointer. Mihyo followed and, after a moment of hesitation, Heejin.

“What’s his name?”

“Taeyong.” Mihyo nodded, letting you know that the session was about to start.

“We want to talk to Taeyong.” She said out loud. “Taeyong, are you there?”

He didn’t take long to answer, the pointer moving to the word yes.

“It’s not you that we wanted to contact, Taeyong. It’s time to go back where you belong.” The pointer remained in its place, and you allowed yourself to fantasize about the idea of him being gone. “We’ll close the session now.”

“No.”

That familiar voice ricocheted against the walls of your living room, turning your stomach. You thought you had just heard it in your head, but as you glanced at the girls before you, you understood that it hadn’t been the case. Heejin was white as paper, on the verge of passing out. She made the pretense of separating her fingers from the pointer, only for Mihyo to scream at her to stay where she was.

“Taeyong, you don’t belong here!” Mihyo screamed. “You have to go!”

It happened in the blink of an eye.

Taeyong appeared where the Ouija board was, stomping on Mihyo’s hand. The girl let out a gut-wrenching scream as she held her hand, eyes fixed on her crooked, broken fingers. Taeyong slapped her with the force of a thousand men, and she fell limp on the floor.

Your first instinct was to grab Heejin and drag her up with you, making a run towards the door. You tried to be quick but Taeyong was quicker, grabbing Heejin’s hair and yanking her back, causing you to fall. Pain spread from your shoulder to your wrist.

You looked up in time to watch Taeyong slam Heejin’s head against the wall, the noise of something cracking flooding the room, and watched in horror as he threw her away as if she was nothing, a string of blood sliding from her forehead down to her cheek.

The apartment fell silent.

“You.” His black eyes fell on you. You were paralyzed. “How could you do this to me?”

You opened your mouth, trying to say something, but nothing came out.

“I tried to be understanding. I allowed him in here, thinking that fucking you like a bitch would make you develop the slightest loyalty towards me. And what do you do?”

Taeyong took a step forward, snapping you out of your trance and forcing you to crawl back.

“You try to send me back. As if I meant nothing to you.”

For every step he took, you moved away. Eventually, there was nothing but a wall behind you. You pressed your back against it, thinking that if you pushed enough you would go through it.

“I’m not a monster.” He said. Then, he crouched down and pointed at the girls. You couldn’t bring yourself to look. “This is your fault.”

A single tear rolled down your cheek as you opened your mouth once again. Struggling to find the words that got stuck in your throat, you ended up whispering.

“I’m sorry.”

Taeyong tilted his head to the side. For a second you thought that you would get away alive. He looked at you with nurturing eyes, the way you glance at a child who has said something incredibly innocent and naïve.

“I know you are. I am, too.”

You didn’t have time to process his words as he straddled your lap. Desperation and fear flooded your mind as Taeyong closed his long, bony fingers around your neck, stopping any air from getting to your lungs.

But you wouldn’t go without a fight. You kicked the air, you scratched his face, his eyes, but it was like trying to catch vapor.

You thought of your parents, of Matt. Losing another kid, another sibling, would break them. You thought of Heejin and Mihyo, who had lost their lives because you didn’t know better. You thought of Kun, lamenting not having said something sooner.

As you slowly lost consciousness, you came to terms with the fact that you were going to die. Through your half-closed eyes, you took your time to take in the face of your murderer.

He was insanely beautiful, like the fallen angel.

You breathed in so quickly that you choked, coughing as you got up. You jumped over Heejin’s dead body, repeating to yourself that there was nothing you could do for her or Mihyo other than find help.

You left the door open and ran down the empty hallway. When you turned around the corner, you found yourself inside your apartment again, in your hall. You could see your furniture from your position.

You swore you had left your apartment. You tried again, and again. Yet every time you turned around the corner, you appeared in your hall.

No rational explanation could make you understand what was happening. It felt like a sleep paralysis experience: knowing that you were dreaming but unable to do anything to wake up. Except this was real life, and you were trapped.

Then, you saw it.

It hadn’t been Heejin’s body the one you had jumped over. It had been yours. Your open eyes pointed to the ceiling, devoid of any life.

Your body collapsed and you fell to the floor, on your knees, weeping like a child. You called for your mom, your brother, Kun.

“There’s no need to cry.” Taeyong’s words were sweet like honey, but they made you want to vomit. “It’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” You cried. “Why, why?”

“You told me you were lonely.” His faked innocence didn’t go unnoticed. “I was lonely, too, but now I have you.”

“Please, please, let me go…”

“Now we have each other.” The smile on Taeyong’s face was prominent but never reached his eyes. “For eternity.”

No reposting or translations allowed.

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