#oc; chloe singh

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: graphic violence, death

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

so... redemption arc???? yes???? does he even get a redemption arc???

part fifty-one

❝ VICTIM ❞

MONDAY — OCTOBER 31 — 12:02AM

“WAKE UP, BABYBIRD. LET’S PLAY A GAME,”

Bentley blinked rapidly when he was suddenly forced back into consciousness against his will. He was surrounded by white — but it wasn’t the white abyss where the Secret Keeper took him. It was a room; with walls and a floor and a ceiling, all white, and a big metal door off to the side that had two keypads next to it.

Bentley, with a jolt of panic, jumped upright and looked down at himself. He was in one of the white jumpsuits from the facility, and both of his wrists were shackled to the floor on opposite sides of the white room by big, thick chains.

He couldn’t feel the water. He couldn’t see anything but the walls. He was trapped.

"No," He muttered, pulling against the chains, which did nothing more than make noise. "No!"

His head was absolutely pounding, throbbing with every passing second, and he felt like passing out and throwing up and dying.

“Good morning! Glad to see you’ve finally woken up!” The Secret Keeper’s voice chided, sending a stab of pain through his already throbbing skull. “I’ve made up a game I think we should play. Y’know, just to pass the time. It’s called: guess which of Bentley’s friends is going to die first!”

Bentley squeezed his eyes shut, shifting around on the white floor until he could pull his knees up and bury his head in them. He couldn't move his hands very far, so he rested them on his legs. “Leave me alone.”

The Secret Keeper laughed. “Don’t you wish it was that easy.”

And suddenly, a feeling came, almost like vertigo even though his eyes were closed. The brightness of the room changed against his eyelids. He forced his eyes to stay shut, forced his body to stay eerily still, forced his focus to remain on the legs of the jumpsuit he had balled up in his hands.

“Let’s introduce our contestants, shall we? There’s a whopping ten of them! I didn’t know Bentley Whittaker was able to make so many friends!”

“Wayne,” He corrected quietly.

“Look up!” The Secret Keeper suddenly roared, and Bentley felt a tug in his chest that drew his head up even though he didn’t want to. The chains were suddenly gone, and he was standing. He was standing in… the hallway of Gotham Academy? It was empty, and all the doors were closed but one, a few feet to his left. “Our first contestant, the obvious fan favorite, the one and only of the ten who’s been with you even longer than myself… Asten Evans!”

Two pillars of smoke were kicked up in the hallway, spinning for a few seconds before they became people. One of which Bentley would’ve been thoroughly pleased to never see again.

Jesse Todryk.

“Looks like someone found the Wayne. Doors open,” Jesse said, glancing back at whatever minion was following him with a smirk. His voice was louder than Bentley remembered, and it sort of echoed. He remembered him saying that exact sentence. Way back when Jesse had-

“Probably Damian,” The minion replied.

Bentley stepped forward, glancing into the open hallway door only to see… himself. His little self — what was he, ten? Eleven? — trembling on the floor of the school’s closet. Nico was right by his side, holding his arm but panicking all the same, his wide blue eyes stuck on-

Asten. He looked a lot younger. (How old was he when Bentley met him? Twelve? Thirteen?) He was on Bentley’s other side, but he rose slowly from the floor, moving for a nearby shelf and sliding a thick, heavy textbook off of it.

Jesse Todryk stopped in the doorway, spotted Bentley and Nico, and laughed sinisterly.

“Well! Isn’t it little mister-“

Bentley saw his little self flinch hard when Asten swung the book with absolutely no hesitation, the spine colliding with Jesse’s head with a terrible thunk.

“Vá queimar no inferno, seu filho da puta!” (Go burn in hell, you son of a bitch!)

Bentley watched in silence — his now self and his little self — as the bully slammed into the closet door and hit the floor with another thump.

“Jesse!”

“Oh my God, you’re going to get so suspended!” Nico exclaimed, still holding onto little Bentley, looking at Asten like he might cry.

Asten shrugged, letting the textbook thud on the floor. “It was self defense.”

“He wasn’t hurting us!”

“He was gonna!”

“The first friend little Bentley Whittaker ever had who was willing to hurt someone for him,” The Secret Keeper’s voice chided, sounding sickeningly sweet. “How cute, am I right?”

The school scene faded into a large swirling mass of smoke, only to be replaced with… the woods?

Bentley did a spin, glancing around. He was standing in a forest, a dark, nighttime forest. Smoke spun in the distance until it became people. Three of them, running full-speed through the trees, right at him.

He stepped out of the way when they got close — it was them. Little him, and little Asten, and little Nico. He and Nico were both bawling their eyes out, and looked like they were on the verge of absolute panic attacks, while little Asten was ushering them on from behind.

Was this when they were escaping the cabin? Didn’t Asten get caught in a-

Bentley flinched when a resounding metal SLAM! came, and little Asten hit the forest floor behind little Bentley and little Nico with a scream so shrill and agonized it still made his skin crawl even today.

The other Bentley and Nico rounded on him immediately.

“Oh my God!” Nico shrieked.

Asten, bear trap clamped down tight on his leg, only muttered under his breath: “Get it off.”

Bentley watched himself self stand uselessly off to the side, before dropping next to them, holding Asten up to the best of his ability.

He remembered being shocked that Asten wasn’t crying. If he had known back then just how much Asten cried to him now, how much closer they were, that they’d become brothers and lived together-

“These are freaking illegal-“ Nico muttered. Big and little Bentley watched him fiddle with the trap with nearly identical cringes on their faces, blood absolutely everywhere, coating everything.

That’s when the beam of a flashlight started panning through the forest. Glancing up, big Bentley saw a figure that looked freakishly like Dr. Keene stalking through the woods. (What would’ve happened if they were faster? Or if Asten had missed the trap?)

“Oh my God, oh my God,”

“Just…” Asten mumbled Portuguese under his breath. “Just take it out of the ground, and… and we’ll get it off later.”

“You’re going to drag a bear trap on your foot where? Onto a bus? A taxi maybe?!”

Bentley watched Asten pull the crowbar out of the tool-belt he’d been wearing and hand it to the other Bentley.

“Bentley,” Asten said seriously. “When he gets here, beat the hell out of him.”

Little Bentley stared at the crowbar with his eyes blown wide.

“The first friend to ever trust Bentley Whittaker with his life,” The Secret Keeper cooed. “Asten Evans was a lot of little firsts for you, Babybird. First partner at school. First sleepover.”

The forest faded away, and he was left standing in the white abyss, alone.

“But the question remains: will he be the first to die?” She giggled sinisterly. “He dies in so many ways across all of your futures, Bentley. Which do you want to see? Maybe simply freezing to death in his cell?”

Smoke swirled in front of his feet, spinning until it turned into Asten, laying on the floor, his lips purple, skin white, green eyes staring but unseeing. He had chains on his wrists that disappeared into the white, and a jumpsuit that matched Bentley's.

“Or maybe he’ll die right next to you, when they start extracting all of your blood to get what they need out of it,”

A stretcher appeared next to the frozen Asten. A stretcher with him laying on top, his eyes wide but unseeing, both of his arms hooked up to machines that were whirring, sucking blood out. They were spluttering now, like there wasn’t much left. There was a heart monitor off to the side, sounding a steady, long beep.

Bentley’s eyes started burning. He’d almost gotten them out of that place, but he didn’t. Then he’d almost gotten them out again, but he didn’t. What if this was really it? What if everyone really was going to die now? What if he'd failed for the last time?

He looked down at the white floor, distorted through the tears that gathered at the bottom of his eyes. “Please stop.”

“What? We’re only one contestant in! Let’s move on!” Both of the Asten’s swirled into smoke and vanished. “Why don’t we jump to… Valor!”

The white around him melted away, replaced by the blissful campus of Redwood Academy, outside of their building. The fountain and willow trees that he’d talked to Chloe under were there, in the distance, far enough that he could see it, but couldn't hear the water running. Smoke swirled on the benches there until himself and Valor took its place.

“All he ever wanted to do, all he ever did, was be a support system. He cares too much. Always has,” The Secret Keeper chided. Bentley watched Valor rise off of the bench and turn to past-Bentley. That Bentley stood, and Valor held out his arms. (Why did he think it was so stupid back then?) Valor hugged him.

“He was the strong one. The protector. You never got to see what went on behind closed doors.”

Suddenly, the campus moved and swirled and changed colors until it became a really fancy house, bustling with teenagers and loud music and bright lights. There were kids everywhere. It took a moment for Bentley to find Valor in the chaos, but he was there. In the home’s lavish living room, on the floor with his back pressed hard against the side of the couch, his wings wrapped around himself… shaking. The music died down and faded into the background so Bentley could hear the way he was gasping for air, the way he kept choking and coughing on sobs that no one else in the massive place seemed to hear. He was trembling, he couldn't breathe, couldn't seem to gather himself. A panic attack?

Bentley almost stepped forward to him, but she continued-

“He was the first friend to ever take a bullet meant for you,”

The scene swirled and changed to when they were in their dorm a short week ago, Valor standing in front of everybody with his wings outstretched as a shield against all the white-armored men. One of said men shot their gun, and Bentley hadn’t noticed then, but he was peeking out at the armored guys around Asten’s head and if Valor's wing wouldn’t have been there, it would’ve hit him.

“Maybe he’ll die when his blood gets drained,” The Secret Keeper started, and the scene faded away and the white nothing returned. A stretcher that looked just like Asten’s appeared, but with an unmoved Valor on top, staring, with the beep of a flatline next to him. “Or maybe he’ll go down fighting. That’s more his style.”

Another Valor appeared a few yards away. His wings were solid red and wrapped around himself, and the deafening, constant bam, bam, bam of assault rifles came, hitting his wings and ruffling the feathers. Blood was going everywhere. Bentley couldn't see who was shooting him.

His wings finally seemed to give out, and they fell completely limp, leaving his whole body exposed. For a second, he looked scared. He was already covered in blood and scrapes and bruises, and his jumpsuit was crimson. And then this... expression crossed his face. Something like realization. Like contentment.

Bentley looked away and covered his mouth when the sound of the assault rifles came back, more than one of them, sending probably over twenty or thirty bullets directly into his exposed body with no hesitation. Bentley flinched hard when he heard the thud. Valor’s whole body turned red in his peripheral.

Bentley choked on his own sobs, not even trying to make the tears stop flowing now. (Were they all going to die because of him?)

“Please stop," He choked, and his legs seemed to stop working, his knees buckling so he ended up on the white floor again. "Please stop."

“Let’s move on, shall we?” The Secret Keeper completely ignored him. “Contestant three — Summer!”

The Valors melted away again, and the white morphed until Bentley was sitting in the hall of Redwood Academy.

He blinked the tears down his face and hiccupped, trying to get ahold of himself. It was getting kind of hard to breathe. This wasn't real, she was just scaring him. This wasn't real, it wasn't real, it wasn't-

“Poor little Summer. What a precious little girl,”

Two pillars of smoke spun far off in the Redwood Academy hall, and past-Bentley and Summer appeared there. They were the only two in the corridor, and she was touching his face, gently. “All she ever wants to do is save.”

The scene swirled into a different Redwood hallway, but Bentley and Summer were there, too — it was near the art classroom, after Tyler had attacked him.

“Wanting to save will be her fatal flaw. It always is with people like her,”

Bentley watched her move just like she had that day — gently touching his wrists, his neck, asking if he was okay. He lied to her. Why had he lied to her? Why wasn’t he just honest?

The scene melted away and changed to one of Summer running down the halls of the facility they were trapped in, kneeling next to various bodies and students laying around, healing them one by one, telling them where to go to escape and to yell if they needed her. She was crying, too — because lots of the kids she tried to heal, she couldn’t get to wake up.

Her blonde-ish hair was a wreck, half stained with red, and her hands and jumpsuit were, too -- though she wasn't injured. Maybe it was the blood of everyone she was trying to heal. She knelt down next to a limp girl on the floor, in a jumpsuit, too, and touched her, moved her hands around. When after a few quiet moments, the girl didn't move, she stood up with a defeated scream of: "Shit!" Muffled and thick with tears.

That's when four armored men rounded the corner into the hallway, where she was standing, alone.

They wasted no time.

Summer didn't even have time to turn and look at them. One of them lifted a pistol, and BANG!

Bentley closed his eyes when the bullet hit her right in the left temple, and a few seconds later, there was a sickening thump that made Bentley gag.

“She never gives up,” The Secret Keeper said. “She always tries to make everything better. Like you.”

Bentley sobbed into his hands, wiping rigorously at his eyes, trying to force the urge to vomit away. “Why do you have to torture me when... I’ve already lost?”

“Because it’s fun!”

Suddenly, the scene died away and the Secret Keeper materialized in front of him, sick and twisted looking, alone with him in the white. She reached down and grabbed his hair, forcing his head up to look at her. “Because you’re the reason my family keeps failing! You’re the reason my father is in prison! I’m not going to leave his goals to rot when I could be carrying them out myself!”

She was screaming merely three or four feet from him, but he hardly paid any attention, just looking at her from where he was sitting. Crying quietly, trying to make sure he was still breathing, quieting the urge to throw up on her shoes.

“You ruined my life! You took my dad away!” She roared. “Contestant four — little Vera Levante!”

The Secret Keeper shoved him so hard he almost fell over, vanishing from his sight again. Their surroundings changed without his consent -- the white room slowly becoming their dorm. His and Asten’s bedroom.

“You two certainly have something special,” The Secret Keeper's voice crooned, sounding especially twisted now. “No matter how much you want to deny it. No matter how innocent and inexperienced and detached from it all you claim to be. I can read your mind, Bentley. I know parts of you that you don’t even know.”

Bentley said nothing as his and Asten’s bunk beds faded into view. He and Vera were sleeping in his bed, her arms closed around him even though he’d been a disgusting sick disaster back then.

“You saw each other at some of the lowest, hardest times,” She continued, and the dorm fizzled away, replaced by another dorm. An empty one, where he and Vera were sitting on the couch, taking a selfie. “She’s the reason you’re here. The reason you met your friends.”

The dorm melted away.

“The reason you’re going to die,” She chuckled. “Maybe she’ll die protecting you. Maybe I'll kill her myself, right in front of you, just to torture you even more."

Three pillars of smoke swirled and spun in the white a few yards from Bentley. Two became him and Vera -- and the third, a little ways away from the others, became the Secret Keeper.

Vera was in front of him, between him and the Secret Keeper -- she was twitching oddly, like she'd been electrocuted. Was Vera in her head again?

Vera was in a white jumpsuit, too, her black and purple hair in a half-fallen ponytail that kept brushing the other Bentley's face. Vera's hands were behind her back, and it took him a second to realize its because she was holding both of his.

The Secret Keeper only twitched for a second.

Then, with a laugh that sounded more like an animalistic growl, she stalked over to them and grabbed Vera by the face, and her brown irises turned a sickening amber.

"Stop breathing," The Secret Keeper muttered.

"No!" The other Bentley shouted.

Bentley looked down at his hands when Vera started to choke, tugging at her clothes and clawing at her throat, trying to get whatever was blocking her airway out. He saw the Bentley in the scene trying to help in his peripheral, but it didn't seem to work. And that Bentley just held her until she choked to death.

The real Bentley, the now Bentley, the only Bentley, sobbed pitifully, bringing up his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, burying his head there to cry.

Everyone was going to die because of him.

"Everyone's going to die because of you!" The Secret Keeper screeched, probably reading his mind. The scene disappeared, leaving just her and him together in the abyss. "Everyone you love is going to die and there's nothing you can do to stop it! It's all your fault! LOOK AT ME!"

Bentley's head was forced up again. The Secret Keeper turned away from him and began to swing her arms wildly, in a manic, almost psychotic manner. Smoke began to billow and blow everywhere, and hundreds upon hundreds of little scenes began to materialize as far as the eye could see. Hundreds of little scenes of people... dying. Varian getting stabbed. Koa getting shot. Asten jumping in front of a bullet. Bellamy getting drained of his blood. Damian falling off a roof. Valor getting his head beaten in. Rockie getting his blood drained out. Bruce getting in a crash in the Batmobile. Jason getting his throat slit. Layla getting thrown off a Redwood Academy balcony.

Gently, someone grabbed Bentley's hand.

He flinched and whirled around, choking on his own tears and panic. Charlie was there. Crouched a mere foot from him, and as soon as their eyes locked, she lifted her finger to her lips in a shh motion.

Bentley stayed quiet, forcing his sobs down, his gaze flicking to the Secret Keeper, who was still flailing wildly in the distance.

He turned back to Charlie, her blue eyes only meeting his brown ones for a split second before she lifted her hand, a small tornado of smoke materializing in her palm.

He watched it spin there for a moment before it floated away from her, settling only a foot or two in front of him, on the floor. It spun and warped until it looked exactly like him, exactly like he did now -- sitting on the floor in his jumpsuit, crying, head tucked in and knees pulled up.

"I'll simulate your thoughts and reactions to stall her for as long as I can," Charlie said softly, reaching forward and grabbing Bentley's face to force him to look at back her. To lock eyes with her. "There's not much time, Bentley. He's coming." She said quickly.

"Who?" Bentley hiccuped, bringing a hand up to grab her arm. "Who's coming?"

Charlie looked up at the Secret Keeper in a panic, like she was waiting for her to turn around. "Listen to me, Bentley. He's coming, okay? I'm going to let you out of here. He isn't a bad guy, you have to trust him, okay?"

"Trust who?!"

"Just promise me you'll go with him, Bentley!" She shouted, frantically, eyes flicking back up to the Secret Keeper. "Promise!"

"I promise!"

As soon as he said that, he jolted back into reality with a small shout of terror, the white room coming into focus around him.

He was choking on his own sobs and could hardly breathe, forcing himself to sit up off of the white floor. It felt like forever that he coughed and spluttered and sobbed and choked and cried until a slam came from his door.

He looked up at it, dread pooling inside of him. Was this who Charlie told him to trust? Or people coming to kill him? Was he about to die or was he about to be saved?

Slam!

He forced his breaths to slow, his heard to calm. He forced his tears to stop and he sat still in the center of the room. If someone was coming to kill him, he'd have to fight back. Somehow, he'd have to.

Slam!

He couldn't let everyone else die because of him. He wouldn't. He was going to get out and he was going to get everybody out and everything was going to be fine.

Slam!

The screen next to the door, the one that scanned keycards to open the cells, suddenly glitched out, the screen malfunctioning and flickering a bunch of different colors until it finally went black.

The door slid open.

Bentley wasn't sure what he expected. He wasn't sure if he expected some random scientist, under Charlie's influence, or one of his friends that had been captured alongside him, or an armored guy coming to shoot him, or Dr. Keene's brother, or Batman, or The Secret Keeper herself. He didn't know who was coming, or how much longer he'd be alive, or if he was going to be tortured, but...

The person that came inside was the last person he ever thought he'd see again.

Bentley's eyes followed him carefully. He had a fire extinguisher in his hands, and he quickly made for the screen that opened the shackles on Bentley's arms and beat it and beat it and beat it with the metal canister until it was nothing more than a useless heap of metal on the wall. The shackles let go of Bentley's arms, hitting the white floor with a clack.

He rounded on him, then, his inhuman green eyes bright in the whiteness of the room. "Bentley..."

Bentley forced himself off of the white floor, every emotion he'd just shoved away coming back full force as he all but throttled himself forward, hugging Rockie so tight he thought he might strangle him. "I hate you!" Bentley sobbed into his shoulder.

"I know," Was all Rockie said, his metal-gloved hands coming up and holding onto Bentley, too. It felt so good at the same time it felt so... so...

"I hate you!" Bentley all but sobbed, choking on his own tears, balling up the back of Rockie's black hoodie in his hands. "I hate you... I hate you..."

"I know,"

Bentley couldn't even begin to comprehend everything happening inside of him. The sheer rage he felt being next to the one who betrayed them, the overwhelming relief that washed over him when he learned Rockie was okay. The far off urge to punch him across the face, and the more prominent one to hold onto him and never let go ever again.

"I'm so sorry," Rockie muttered, voice thick, muffled from the shoulder of Bentley's jumpsuit. "I fucked up. I picked the wrong side because I'm stupid, but I'm back now. I'm back now and I promise I'll get you out of here. I'll die to get you out."

"I hate you," Was all Bentley could manage to say, dissolving quietly into a crying disaster, and Rockie only held him tighter.

"I know,"

--

tag list that KINDA works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy @bookwarm0-0

@custommadeazula

[twoidiotwriters1]

Pure Blood 33 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

Words: 1,841

Warnings: Saaaaad stuff

Materlist:

Chapter 32:  Chapter 34

"Sirius, I'm not in the mood for your jokes," I say following him through the trees of the forbidden forest. Thunder echoes warning us a storm is coming.

“It's not a joke. Trust me.”

The moonlight no longer illuminates the path, I stop.

"Sirius, I really don't want to keep going,” I say nervously.

I hear him sigh.

"We're almost there, just a few more feet, Percy."

"I can't, let's go back please!” I feel my lower lip tremble.

He reaches out and touches my cheek.

“I know you don't feel good. I just want to show you something that will make you forget all this, even for a few minutes. It’ll be fine, do you trust me?"

“…Yes” I whisper.

Sirius takes my hand again and we continue walking. I don't know how he can go on without having light, but I just follow him. On one side are two trees thicker than the others, only a few meters apart from each other. We stop and he turns.

"I know it's weird, but you have to follow the black dog,” He says with a mischievous little smile.

I nod, unsure of what he means.

Sirius walks away and goes behind one of the trees. He returns as a huge black dog and signals me to follow him. Carefully, I obey by stepping on various branches and dry leaves. Passing the two trees is a cobbled path. Sirius and I walked over it until we reached a clearing; an expanse of land where herbs hurt my knees.

Sirius stops in front of me and makes a sign that I understand I have to wait. The dog runs to the center of the field and I lose sight of him for a few minutes. When he returns, his tail wags from side to side. He makes me follow him to the center of the clearing and I sit crossing my legs.

"Now what?" I ask him.

He cocks his head, turns away a little and starts barking. I look at him confused, until his barking echoes all over the place and little yellow lights stick out of the grass. I look in amazement at the fireflies that go up until they disappear in the trees. I smile when several approach me.

"You like it?" I jump when I hear Sirius's voice and turn to see him.

"It's beautiful," I whisper. He comes closer, wraps his arm around my shoulders, and draws me into his body.

I hear his heartbeat, feel the grass below me, and breathe in the cold air. Only until the thunder is more continuous does the rain fall uncontrollably, but we don’t move to avoid it.

The fireflies hide and everything goes dark.

The memories return and my heart races along with my breathing. My smile disappears and my tears mix with the rain. I bend my legs to my chest and hug them hiding my face in them. My shoulders shake from my sobs. Sirius hugs me and rests his forehead in my hair.

"I'm sorry,” He whispers in my ear.

"I don't understand,” I say. I raise my voice so he can hear me through the rain. “What else do they want from me? They know that I’m miserable there, with them, with those obligations. They have four other kids that they can use! Why do they keep insisting on me?" I scream angrily.

"I don't know," Sirius replies. “I'm sorry I don’t have the answer. I'm sorry I can't do something to make you feel good. I'm sorry I can't protect you as I would like…”

"That's the worst! It's not your fault, or the other boys' fault. Not my brothers and sisters. It’s my parents and all that garbage they have carried for generations. They want me to continue, but I can't. I don't want to!" He hugs me tighter.

"Sorry, Percy."

I hide my face on his neck, breathing in the scent of him. I cling to him like my life depends on it. But something distracts me, something familiar.

“Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"You smell like a wet dog.”

“I think it explains itself, don’t you think?” He replied in amusement.

Wet dog. A horrible scent that I had smelled before. In potions class, when Slughorn showed us the Amortentia potion.

***

"I could tell my parents that I’ll stay with you for the wedding arrangements?” tries Jenna.

"No, I don't want someone else to get involved," I say.

I rest my head on Sirius's shoulder. His hand squeezes mine.

"I don't want to leave you alone.”

I look up and see my best friend's look of empathy.

“I won't be. I wrote to Apollo.”

"Do you think he can do something?" Remus asks.

I shrug. "It's the only thing I have left"

The compartment is silent. No one knows what to say or do. There are no more plans or easy ways out. At one point I fall asleep, Sirius wakes me up when we get to the station and this time, my mother and Juno are waiting for me.

My friends say goodbye to me and I promise to communicate in some way.

“Anything, please, you must tell me. I don't know if there are any muggle phones close to your home, but you can find one. James's parents have one,” says Sirius giving me a paper with the number. “Take care,” He whispers in a broken voice and hugs me. My eyes water. “I wrote to my uncle Alphard. Maybe he can help you.”

"Thank you Sirius,” I clean my cheeks. I look at my mother and sister. They watch carefully. I look down at the ground.

If this continues, if I have no escape. I will not be able to continue with the life I had, which I finally managed to be happy with.

I return my gaze to Sirius and take in every detail of his face. His gray eyes, the unruly hair that falls on his face. I touch his cheek to feel his smooth skin. I kiss his lips, savoring every moment.

"I love you Sirius,” I whisper and pull away a bit. He looks at me in surprise and tries to speak. I sigh and walk to my family without waiting for an answer.

***

Sirius

"And what did you expect me to do, Prongs?" I growl looking at my best friend.

“I don't know, mate. I have no idea what we could do, my brain ran out of ideas.”

I walk back and forth in James's room, pulling my hair in desperation.

"I want to help her, I want her to run away just like I did.”

“Sirius…”

“It's not easy, but it’s better, it will be better–”

“Sirius.”

"If we go to her house maybe she can run away without anyone noticing–“

"Sirius!" James stops me. “She’s not like you. They’re not the same families and it’s not the same situation.”

“And what should I do? Stand by and do nothing? Waiting for an invitation to my girlfriend and younger brother’s wedding?"

"No! But whatever idea you have may make it worse!”

"How the hell can it be worse?"

“She can get hurt. It’s worse than your situation with your parents, Sirius. And she has more siblings against her.”

I clench my hands into fists.

"I want to help her, James," I say in a cracking voice.

“I want that too, Sirius. But we can't do anything, not for now.”

I walk towards the window, I see the sky waiting for some owl with news that will improve everything. A letter from her saying that everything was canceled and that she’s on her way. That she’s safe.

“I can't lose her, James. Not again.”

"You won't, mate" My friends comes over and hugs me.

"Boys?" James's father enters the room. "What's wrong?"

Fear creeps through, James's hand on my shoulder squeezes.

"They may be able to help, Padfoot.”

“Dear," says Euphemia. "What happened?"

"I don't know what to do,” I reply.

"Tell us.”

***

Persephone

"What other cards do you have up your sleeve?" I say sitting in front of my father's desk.

"You don't have an idea, little one," He says, resting his elbows on the desk.

"And I have something to do with your future plans?"

“You're the star.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Wasn't it enough for you to want to force me to kill innocent people? Organizing a wedding that I disagreed on… twice. And now you tell me that I must delay my studies to graduate with Regulus and be the happy couple that we aren’t and will never be.”

"It's something simple, but you always manage to make it all so dramatic…”

I know what his game is. He wants to break me once and for all.

"I won’t do it. I will not be one of your puppets. It works with other people, but not with me.”

“And what will you do about it? Tell Alphard Black to save you again?" He smiles. "Did you really think I wasn't going to find out?"

“Leave the Blacks alone. Forget that family, cancel the engagement.”

"Look at you, defending other people,” He laughs again. “Now you’ll tell me that you’ll do whatever it takes to make me leave them alone. Didn’t you just say you don’t want to be my puppet, dear?"

"Not everything is strategy.”

"Life is a great strategy and at this point you should know better.”

"Why don't you focus on your other children and forget about me?"

“Oh no, I could not abandon any of my children.”

"You manipulate them.”

“You are the real problem,” He stands up and circles the desk. “Listen, you will marry Regulus Black, have his heirs, and both of you will be the dark lord's most important aides. Don't worry, after all this is over and the traitors surrender, there will be nothing left of what you used to care about.”

"What do you mean?"

He puts his hands on my shoulders and squeezes hard.

“Lily Evans, Marlene Mckinnon, Jenna Parker, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter and Sirius Black… That's what I mean.”

My father returns to my desk and smiles satisfied with my reaction.

“It does not matter if you are of age, you, Persephone Amelia Singh, belong to me. You are my daughter and you must follow the orders of your true family. You cannot run away and no one can help you. Don't count on Alphard or anyone else. Your hands are tied and it will be easier if you give up now.”

After working on everything that I’ve achieved, on the new family that I have created, on everything that I’ve discovered, lost by a few simple orders. A war in the near future and I’m destined to be on the wrong side. Suffering in silence.

“No," I pull out my wand and hold it tightly. "I won’t give up. Never,” I clench my teeth and stand up. “You're no longer my family.”

Taglist:

@treestarrrrrrrr​   @siriuslysirius1107​    @madmaiden2890​ @ren-ela​  @avipshamitra   @auroraawrites @findzelda  @lizlil @siriusmuch   @chloe-geoghegan1 @reverse-hxlland  @may-rapp @the-specific-oceans @eveft  @secret-obsessions

@xkonpinkx​    @inkandpen22​   @thagreenmoon​

@littledeadgirlwalking​

@yunloyal

@bloodorangemoonlight

[bluesakura007]

Undeniable - Chapter 7 (Happy Ending): To Be Where You Are - Khan Noonien Singh x OC

Summary: Zinalya and Khan finally reach the light at the end of the tunnel as her suggestion for them to be exiled together is accepted. 

Warning: No angst, the only thing here is fluff. 😊

When she did look around the room in this moment, Zinalya saw that the remainder of the court only had several others who'd raised their hands in favour of the exile sentence. Specifically, so many others that there seemed to be about two thirds of them who had taken this side of the argument.

"Oh my god." She gasped to herself, her voice's volume still kept low, before she fully registered that she'd spoken at all.

"All those against?"

As she had just presumed, the others in the audience who now raised their hands in opposition to the success of her plan only took up the last remaining third - upon seeing this, her heart leapt up even higher. "Oh my god..." The words slipped out from her lips once more without her meaning for them to do so. "It worked..."

"The results of the vote are certain; Khan Noonien Singh, you are hereby sentenced to twenty years of exile on the planet designated Ceti Alpha V, and Miss Zinalya Chloe Hamilton, you are sentenced to accompany him for your own sentence of ten years. The convicted shall now be released into the custody of yourself and the rest of the USS Enterprise's senior personnel for transport to this planet, during which any further offences committed by him you will be declared as personally accountable for. This trial is now declared closed." At this, a wave of noise descended upon the room as everyone got up from their seats to leave, now that the matter was all done and over with.

"Scotty, how long do you think it'll take you to get the ship up and running again?" Jim asked this chief engineer as they walked out with the others.

"If I get everyone from the rest of my team working on it we should be able to get going in four days' time, give or take."

"Okay. Get to it as soon as you can." The captain nodded in acknowledgement.

"Aye, sir, I will do." He, Kirk and the other senior officers all experienced a wave of relief for Zinalya now that her alternative sentence recommendation had been fully accepted.

It was a minute on, or somewhat less, when the two who this development itself revolved around had gone up to the roof. A place where they could truly be alone.

"So... we did it?" She looked up at him, some strands of both his and her own hair fluttering about in the breeze up here.

"It seems that we did." Khan gave a nod of his head as he gave this reply. Zinalya didn’t think she’d ever stop getting warm shivers at the sound of his baritone voice.

"And basically for the next few days I’m supposed to be your babysitter, from the sound of it." The burgundy haired woman joked with a small chuckle.

"I can think of several outcomes and scenarios which would’ve been much more undesirable." She could see one corner of his mouth curling upwards into a small, genuine smile.

"Is that the translation for you telling me we're lucky?" Zin quirked her eyebrows lightheartedly while still showing a joking expression upon her face.

"Effectively, yes." He took a moment to wipe away some particular strands of her hair which ad blown very near to her eyes, her taking note in the process of the slight chill on his hands. Obviously being up on the roof of a tall building, like they were right now, would make anyone's hand temperature drop, but she'd managed to notice even when they were still indoors just a few seconds prior that this slight chill was still present; it seemed as if it were a constant characteristic of himself not unlike a personality trait. Her mother's hands also usually had this same chill to them - a peculiarity of the Trill - but Khan's own felt different, like some kind of entirely different coolness. "And I'm glad that it means we're able to touch each other now."

"Yeah. I am, too." She said, while simultaneously thinking in her mind without speaking it out loud that this chill to his hands was somewhat poetic: prior to this whole matter, they were a representation of his heart - a reflection of his inner self - but now they were a contrast to it. There was still a warmness to his heart before the last few days, but it took a jumpstart and a little bit of prompting to bring it out of the tiny, solitary box it had been sitting in and turn it into this contrast. "Should we go back inside? I think it’s getting a little cold up here." Asked Zinalya.

"I don’t think there’s any rush for us to leave this roof." Khan gave his reply, as his previously small smile grew to about three sizes and he then, without warning, reached towards her torso and pulled her towards his own. It wasn’t an unpleasant moment to her, only unexpected instead; in fact, it served as another warm shiver source. "And as for the coldness, there’s an easy way of remedying that." His arms slid around her shoulders and onto her back, to which she managed to slide her own hands up onto his chest and snuggle into it in that position. As he looked down and watched the wind whip up some of her hair again while she turned her head to one side, Khan continued to hold her and felt, for the first time, that he was fulfilled and was now well and truly whole.

At her apartment, Zin was still up and about several hours later, once the sky was very nearly dark. Khan, meanwhile, who she was allowing to stay there with her for the final few days before they left Earth now that he was apparently “in her custody”, was in a state of drifting in and out of consciousness but mainly remaining in the latter. She’d additionally come up with an agreement where, so that they could both remain warm and safe, they would share her bed over those nights, which was the location where these consciousness shifts were taking place.

She was about to go to her bedroom and join him now that she was in her nightgown, when she suddenly heard a knock at the apartment’s door. Wondering to herself about who it could be, the answer to this query was soon provided when she opened it. 

"Oh, hey." Zinalya greeted the two people who were at the door, surprised - they had also been the last pair she’d expected to have voted in favour of her and Khan’s exile earlier that day. Spock and Bones. Stood right in front of her, on the landing which was exposed to the night air.

"Good evening, lieutenant-commander." Said Spock cordially, while the doctor nodded in his own silent greeting, and then asked out of curiosity, "Is he here?"

The word ‘he’ was a little bit of an ambiguous term, but she could nonetheless tell who the half Vulcan was referring to. Her lips tightened slightly but visibly as her eyes flicked between the two of them and she answered tersely with, "He is, yes; he’s asleep." She knew it would be unreasonable of her to be actually, properly angry at them after they’d done this aforementioned act of voting in her and Khan’s favour back in the courtroom, but she wanted to make her irritation seen - the act of them originally not agreeing with her and casting her feelings aside to condemn him in the first place meant she was still annoyed with both of them.

Spock took a moment of pause before he spoke again. "Dr. McCoy and I came here to tell you our reasons for the side we took our votes on, in the hopes that we can make amends with you."

She nodded her own head. "I’m listening."

"Because it seemed logical to contribute to allowing you to do as you wish. You are a trusted crewmate, lieutenant-commander Hamilton, so letting you do what you feel is right is the right thing for ourselves to do in turn."

"Plus, I didn’t wanna keep what happened yesterday fresh." Bones finally spoke up, and then took a breath during a second of his own before elaborating. "The stuff I said to you was way outta line, ‘cause you’re right: even if I have my own doubts about him, that doesn’t mean I can just tell you who you’re allowed to have feelings for. What I’m tryin’ to say is, I was wrong to say that stuff, and I’m sorry."

Now it was her turn to nod, her face’s look of irritation beginning to erode. "I’m sorry I slapped you, too."

"If it was me dealing with that and not you I probably would’ve done the same thing." The CMO replied reassuringly to this.

Zinalya’s expression afterwards slowly grew into a smile. "Thanks you two, it was kind of you to come here and tell me this."

"We didn’t wanna leave things between us like this for long. Hell, Spock’s got a little more trouble than me at expressing this..." He raised his eyebrows jokingly and chuckled.

"Thank you, doctor." This science officer himself commented in response, also in what sounded like a little bit of a lighthearted way of speaking.

"...But he was right when he just said how you’re a trusted crewmate, Zin."

Another positive event had just happened, which was the very subject that she’d expressed her worries to Scotty and Pavel about that morning: things had become patched back up again between her and McCoy and Spock. There seemed to now be no more of the feud between her and this duo which had been triggered during the previous afternoon, and this combined with the larger positive event which had taken place on this current day meant that, like Khan earlier, she suddenly felt herself become flooded with a mental sensation of fulfilment.

[anotherimaginescollection]

Imagines: In queue; Written; Still to write (8/12/17)

A/N: Due to the time it takes things to be published I thought that I’d try keeping an up-to-date list of how things are being done, updating it very Friday if possible; we’ll have to see how long I can keep this up for though (requests are normal, my gif ones are in italics) .

In Queue

December (Winter requests, at least one every day as well)

Teen Wolf: Melissa McCall.

Scream: Jake Fitzgerald.

The Walking Dead: Michonne (Headcanons).

Shadowhunters: Sebastian Morgenstern.

Rising Light (OC, Constantine Fanfiction): Nik D’Angelo.

Sherlock: Mary Watson.

Harry Potter: James Potter.

Suicide Squad: Rick Flag.

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers (Headcanons).

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers.

Constantine: John Constantine.

Teen Wolf: Jackson Whittemore.

Wynonna Earp: Wynonna Earp.

Wynonna Earp: Doc Holliday.

Supergirl: Alex Danvers (One-shot).

Zoo: Mitch Morgan.

The Flash: Wally West.

Until Dawn: Ashley.

Legends of Tomorrow: Leonard Snart.

Sidekicks and Criminals (OC, Supergirl Fanfiction): Archie Smith and Harry Oswald.

Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy: George Lovelace.

Batman Universe: Bruce Wayne.

Kingsman: Agent Whiskey.

Being Human: Nina Pickering.

Lucifer: Chloe and Trixie Decker, and Dan Espinosa (One-shot).

Constantine: John Constantine, Chas Chandler and Zed Martin.

Scorpion: Team Scorpion.

Doctor Who: The Master.

Kingsman: Harry Hart.

The Flash: Wally West.

Kingsman: Harry Hart (Headcanons).

Grimm: Nick Burkhardt and Monroe.

Shadowhunters: Magnus Bane.

Harry Potter: Lily Evans.

Shadowhunters: Alec Lightwood and Magnus Bane.

Kingsman: Eggsy Unwin.

Teen Wolf: Lydia Martin.

Legends of Tomorrow: Sara Lance.

Supergirl: James Olsen (One-shot).

Lucifer: Dan Espinoza.

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers (Headcanons).

The Maze Runner: Jorge and Brenda.

Teen Wolf: Theo Raeken.

Merlin: Gwen, Elyan and Leon.

Kingsman: Roxy Morton.

Misfits: Rudy Wade and Rudy Too.

Legends of Tomorrow: Leonard Snart.

The Musketeers: The Musketeers.

January

Riverdale: Jughead Jones.

Now You See Me: The Horsemen.

Legends of Tomorrow: Leonard Snart.

The Force Awakens: BB-8.

Legends of Tomorrow: Leonard Snart.

Riverdale: Toni Topaz.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers (Headcanons).

Scorpion: Harry Quinn and Toby Curtis.

Sidekicks and Criminals (OC, Supergirl Fanfiction): Robbo Laverna.

Scream: Piper Shaw.

Wynonna Earp: Xavier Dolls (One-shot).

Shadowhunters: Jace Wayland.

Legends of Tomorrow: Lenard Snart (Trigger Warning: Abuse).

Sherlock: John Watson.

Constantine: Chas Chandler (One-shot).

Suicide Squad: Killer Croc.

The Flash: Caitlin Snow.

Supergirl: James Olsen.

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers (One-shot; part two).

Teen Wolf: Isaac Lahey.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers (Warning: Car accident).

Wynonna Earp: Wayverly Earp.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers (One-shot).

Zoo: Abe Kenyatta.

Legends of Tomorrow: Kendra Saunders.

The Walking Dead: Negan.

Misfits: Nathan Young.

Rising Light (OC, Constantine Fanfcition): Kate Bastille and Ben Cox.

Nowhere Boys: Jake Riles.

Batman Universe: Dick Grayson.

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers (Headcanons).

Being Human: Hal Yorke.

The Flash: Barry Allen and Eobard Thawne (Third person).

Constantine: John Constantine.

Legends of Tomorrow: Ray Palmer.

Doctor Who: Bill Potts.

Lucifer: Amenadiel.

The Flash: Gypsy.

Doctor Who: The Eleventh Doctor.

The Gifted: John Proudstar.

Scorpion: Happy Quinn.

Grimm: Trubel.

Shadowhunters: Alec Lightwood.

Harry Potter: Nymphadora Tonks and Draco Malfoy.

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers (One-shot).

Kingsman: The Statesmen.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers.

Legends of Tomorrow: Zari Tomaz.

Riverdale: Archie Andrews.

Lucifer: Marcus Pierce.

The Flash: Lisa Snart.

The Maze Runner: Minho.

Teen Wolf: Derek Hale.

Merlin: Percival.

Rising Light (OC, Constantine Fanfiction): Nik D’Angelo.

Misfits: Alisha Daniels and Kelly Bailey.

Nowhere Boys: Felix Ferne.

The Musketeers: Aramis.

Shadowhunters: Isabelle Lightwood (One-shot).

Rogue One: Jyn Erso.

Teen Wolf and Shadowhunters Crossover: The McCall pack and Raphael Santiago.

Riverdale: The Andrews family.

Legends of Tomorrow: Ray Palmer.

Scorpion: Sylvester Dodd.

Suicide Squad: Chato Santana.

Scream: Brooke Maddox.

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar.

Shadowhunters: Luke Garroway.

Class: Ram Singh.

Sherlock: Greg Lestrade.

Shadowhunters: Camille Belcourt.

Suicide Squad: June Moon.

Class: Ram Singh.

Supergirl: Lena Luthor.

Shadowhunters: Meliorn.

Teen Wolf: Scott McCall.

Class: Ram Singh.

Wynonna Earp: Xavier Dolls.

Shadowhunters: Downworld Cabinet.

Now You See Me: Jack Wilder.

The Mortal Instruments: Magnus Bane.

The 100: Raven Reyes.

Constantine: John Constantine.

The Making of a Hero (OC, Nightwing Fanfcition): Teddy Kane.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers.

Gotham: James Gordon.

Supergirl: Maggie Sawyer.

Being Human: John Mitchell.

Scream: Noah Foster.

Constantine: Jim Corrigan.

Constantine: John Constantine, Chas Chandler and Zed Martin (One-shot).

Class: April.

The Flash: Eddie Thawne (One-shot).

The Flash: Harry Wells.

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar.

The Gifted: Lorna Dane.

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar.

Grimm: Juliette Silverton.

Written

February

Still to Write

February

Legends of Tomorrow: Sara Lance (Would include...)

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them: Newt Scammander.

Supergirl: Kara and Alex Danvers.

Kingsman: Charie Hesketh.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers and the Superfriends (One shot).

Legends of Tomorrow: Zari Tomaz.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers, Alex Danvers and Maggie Sawyer.

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers.

The Maze Runner: Chuck and the Gladers.

Harry Potter: Cedric Diggory and Neville Longbottom.

Merlin: Merlin.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers.

Misfits: Curtis Donovan

Supergirl: Alex Danvers.

The Musketeers: The Musketeers.

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar.

The Force Awakens: Poe Dameron.

Scorpion: Team Scorpion.

Riverdale: Kevin Keller.

Supergirl: Maggie Sawyer and Lena Luthor.

Scorpion: Paige Dineen.

Supergirl: Alex Danvers and Kara Danvers.

Scream: Audrey Jensen.

[cluelessrebel1988]

A video I made of all the canon characters and OCs currently in @theconvergenceroleplay. The song is “Marching On” by OneRepublic

The Characters are as follows: 

Supernatural

Naomi (Amanda Tapping)

Jenna Winters (Odette Annable)

Sam Winchester (Jared Padalecki)

Dean Winchester (Jensen Ackles)

Charlie Bradbury (Felicia Day)

Kevin Tran (Osric Chau)

Jo Harvelle (Alona Tal)

Ruby (Katie Cassidy)

Lucifer (Mark Pellegrino)

Eileen Leahy (Shoshannah Stern)

Crowley (Mark Sheppard)

Castiel (Misha Collins)

Max Banes (Kendrick Sampson)

Andrew "Drew" Haraldson (Grant Gustin)

Harry Potter

Taylor Weasley (Melissa Benoist)

Dominique Weasley (Indiana Evans)

DJ Lake (Seán William McLoughlin)

Ron Weasley (Rupert Grint)

Fred Weasley (James Phelps)

Alexandra Summers (Idia Eisley)

Lily Potter II (Holland Roden)

Ginny Weasley (Bonnie Wright)

James Potter II (Dylan O'Brien)

Lucy Weasley (Saxon Sharbino)

Molly Weasley II (Zena Grey)

Jacob Kowalski (Dan Fogler)

Colin Creevey (Hugh Mitchell)

Victoire Weasley (Amber Heard)

Tom Riddle (Frank Dillane)

Logan Mills (Munro Chambers)

Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton)

Seamus Finnigan (Devon Murray)

Shona "Nani" Duncan (Zooey Deschanel)

Hermione Granger (Emma Watson)

Teddy Lupin (Luke Newberry)

Dean Thomas (Alfie Enoch)

Miles Thomas (Ryan Potter)

Lysander Scamander (Colin Ford)

Lee Jordan (Luke Youngblood)

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Jemma Simmons (Elizabeth Henstridge)

Natasha Romanov (Scarlett Johansson)

Darcy Lewis (Kat Dennings)

Angie Martinelli (Lyndsy Fonseca

Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell)

Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie)

Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow)

Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr)

Booker Harmon (Michael B. Jordan)

Steve Rogers (Chris Evans)

Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

Aldrich Killian (Guy Pearce)

Elektra Natchios (Elodie Yung)

Mantis (Pom Klementieff)

Leslie Shade (Kylie Furneaux)

Peter Quill (Chris Pratt)

Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan)

Nebula (Karen Gillan)

Leo Fitz (Iain de Caestecker)

Daisy "Skye" Johnson (Quake) (Chloe Bennet)

Wanda Maximoff (Elizabeth Olsen)

Pietro Maximoff (Aaron Taylor-Johnson)

Sherlock

Mycroft Holmes (Mark Gatiss)

John Watson (Martin Freeman)

Sherlock Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch)

Molly Hooper (Louise Brealey)

Anthea (Lisa McAllister)

Mary Watson (Amanda Abbington)

Irene Adler (Lara Pulver)

Greg Lestrade (Rupert Graves)

Eurus Holmes (Siân Brooke)

Doctor Who

Rose Tyler (Billie Piper)

Jack Harkness (John Barrowman)

Jayda Osmi (Nicole Bonifacio)

Jacob Robens-Osmi (Tristan Wilds)

Sky Smith (Sinead Michael)

Clara Oswald (Jenna Coleman)

Percy Jackson

Hylla Ramirez-Arellano (Eiza Gonzalez)

Annabeth Chase (AnnaSophia Robb)

Hazel Levesque (Amandla Stenberg)

Frank Zhang (Booboo Stewart)

Kaiser Jäger (Max Riemalt)

Leo Valdez (Jake T. Austin)

Nico di Angelo (Jakub Gierszal)

Rachel Elizabeth Dare (Luca Hollestelle)

Will Solace (Burkely Duffield)

Zoë Nightshade (Anjli Mohindra)

Jackie Long (Melissa Benoist)

Reyna Ramirez-Arellano (Victoria Justice)

Clarisse La Rue (Leven Rambin)

Percy Jackson (Logan Lerman)

The Vampire Diaries

Elijah Mikaelson (Daniel Gillies)

Katherine Pierce (Nina Dobrev)

Davina Claire (Danielle Campbell)

Damon Salvatore (Ian Somahalder)

Stefan Salvatore (Paul Wesley)

Lexi Branson (Arielle Kebbel)

Elena Gilbert (Nina Dobrev)

Caroline Forbes (Candice King)

April Young (Grace Phipps)

Rebekah Mikaelson (Claire Holt)

Indiana 'Indie' Davis (Lily Collins)

Jeremy Gilbert (Steven R McQueen)

Bonnie Bennett (Kat Graham)

Vicki Donovan (Kayla Ewell)

Tyler Lockwood (Micheal Trevino)

The Hunger Games

Primrose Everdeen (Willow Shields)

Clove (Isabelle Fuhrman)

Madge Undersee (Abigail Breslin)

Finnick Odair (Sam Clafin)

Dexterous LaFevers (Colin Ford)

Glimmer (Leven Rambin)

Christopher 'Kit' Odair (Douglas Booth)

Johanna Mason (Jena Malone)

Shilo Mellark (Alex Pettyfer)

Annie Cresta (Stef Dawson)

Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence)

Thresh (Dayo Okeniyi)

Willow Mellark (Emily Rudd)

Merlin

Morgana Pendragon (Katie McGrath)

Gwaine (Eoin Macken)

Percival (Tom Hopper)

Lancelot (Santiago Cabrera)

Hunith (Caroline Faber)

Balinor (John Lynch)

Mordred (Alexander Vlahos)

Merlin (Colin Morgan)

Freya (Laura Donnelly)

Rielle (Indiana Evans)

Kara (Alexandra Dowling)

Sir Leon (Rupert Young)

Once Upon a Time

Peter Pan (Robbie Kay)

Graham Humbert (Jamie Dornan)

Emma Swan (Jennifer Morrison)

Grace (Alyssa Skovbye)

Helena (Tristan Mays)

Regina Mills (Lana Parrilla)

Felix (Parker Croft)

Elsa (Georgina Haig)

Zelena (Rebecca Mader)

Aurora (Sarah Bolger)

Anna (Elizabeth Lail)

Killian Jones (Colin O'Donoghue)

Anastasia (The Red Queen) (Emma Rigby)

Fiona (The Black Fairy) (Jamie Murray)

Divergent

Christina Kravitz (Zoe Kravitz)

Eric Coulter (Jai Courtney)

Tris Prior (Shailene Woodley)

Will (Ben Lloyd-Hughes)

Fox Marvel

Kassandra Dare (Nicola Peltz)

Amily Jacobs (Elle Fanning)

Daisy Oliviera (Tori Kelly)

Jubilation Lee 'Jubilee' (Lana Condor)

Scott Summers (Tye Sheridan)

Charles Xavier (James McAvoy)

Chase Maelstrom (Asa Butterfield)

Sean Cassidy (Caleb Landry Jones)

Ajax (Francis) (Ed Skrein)

Alex Summers (Lucas Till)

Ellie Phimister (Brianna Hildebrand)

Jasper (Lindsey Morgan)

Hope Cooper (Zendaya)

Anise Lovett (Adelaide Kane)

Peter Maximoff (Evan Peters)

Brooklyn Winters (Crystal Reed)

Laura Kinney (Dafne Keen)

Jean Grey (Sophie Turner)

Star Trek

Khan Noonien Singh (Benedict Cumberbatch)

James T Kirk (Chris Pine)

The Maze Runner

Thomas (Dylan O'Brien)

Minho (Ki Hong Lee)

Elizabeth (Maia Mitchell)

Newt (Thomas Brodie-Sangsta)

Harriet (Nathalie Emmanuel)

Sonya (Katherine McNamara)

DC Cinematic and Television Universes

Kara Danvers (Melissa Benoist)

Cisco Ramon (Carlos Valdes)

Thea Queen (Willa Holland)

Felicity Smoak (Emily Bett Rickards)

Hunter Zoloman (Teddy Sears)

Oliver Queen (Stephen Amell)

Melanie Silver (Saoirse Ronan)

Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie)

The Joker (Jared Leto)

Harrison Wells (Tom Cavanaugh)

Caitlin Snow (Danielle Panabaker)

Jesse Quick (Violett Beane)

Alex Danvers (Chyler Leigh)

Chato Santana (El Diablo) (Jay Hernandez)

Patty Spivot (Shantel VanSanten)

Floyd Lawton (Deadshot) (Will Smith)

Clark Kent (Superman) (Henry Cavill)

Ray Palmer (A.T.O.M) (Brandon Routh)

Adrian Chase (Simon Morrison) (Josh Segarra)

Sara Lance (Caity Lotz)

Barry Allen (Grant Gustin)

Dinah Drake (Juliana Harkavy)

William Clayton (Jack Moore)

Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) (Gal Gadot)

Mon-El (Mike Matthews) (Chris Wood)

Winslow Schott Jr. (Jeremy Jordan)

Zoe Lawton (Shailyn Pierre-Dixon)

Jae-Yoon Hyunsik (Park Chanyeol)

Iris West (Candice Patton)

Dante Ramon (Nicholas Gonzalez)

Star Wars

Bennal Derek (Bradley Cooper)

Han Solo (Harrison Ford)

Aeli Serit (Shailene Woodley)

Kylo Ren (Adam Driver)

Orson Krennic (Ben Mendelsohn)

Armitage Hux (Domhnall Gleeson)

Alter'Li Fond (Holland Roden)

Callen Derek (Kellen Lutz)

Barriss Offee (Nalini Krishan)

Padmé Amidala (Natalie Portman)

Rey (Daisy Ridley)

Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher)

Lord of the Rings

Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly)

Legolas Greenleaf (Orlando Bloom)

Thranduil Greenleaf (Lee Pace)

Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman)

Gimli (John Rhys-Davies)

Raviel (Rachel McAdams)

The Mortal Instruments and Shadowhunters

Max Lightwood - TMI (Jack Fulton)

Cecily Herondale - TMI (Alexandra Daddario)

Shane Burciaga (Adam Lambert)

Magnus Bane - SH (Harry Shum Jr.)

Louis Adams (Dylan O'Brien)

Amelia Lockhart (Madison McLaughlin)

Clarissa 'Clary' Fray - TMI (Katherine Mcnamara)

Alec Lightwood - SH (Matthew Daddario)

Kayden Jacques - SH (Victoria Justice)

Jace Lightwood - TMI (Jamie Campbell Bower)

Maia Roberts - TMI (Meagan Tandy)

Disney Live-Action

Belle (Emma Watson)

Evie (Sofia Carson)

Rapunzel (Mackenzie Mauzy)

Little Red Riding Hood (Lila Crawford)

Sharpay Evans (Ashley Tisdale)

Mal (Dove Cameron)

Jay (Booboo Stewart)

Ben (Mitchell Hope)

Giselle (Amy Adams)

Henry Turner (Brenton Thwaites)

Carlos De Vil (Cameron Boyce)

Twilight

Jane (Dakota Fanning)

Carlisle Cullen (Peter Facinelli)

[orangeflamewrites]

TY MY LOVELY CHLOE @egertonwrites​ <33

RULES:  post ten characters you’d like to roleplay as, are roleplaying, have roleplayed as & might bring back then tag ten people to do the same  (  if you can’t think of ten characters, just write down however many you can and tag the same amount of people ). please repost & not reblog!

ARE ROLEPLAYING:

Just 3 at the moment

Hannah Price (emma watson fc) @newyorksfinestrpg​

Rudraksh Cassius (hrithik roshan fc) @sovereigntyhq​

Stella Wells (emma watson fc) on a semi hiatus rn but it’s here on my indie @orangeflamewrites​

All of my other characters are on the indie are on a hiatus

10 I HAVE ROLEPLAYED AS (NAME GAME LETS SEE)

Molly Weasley (sarah rafferty fc) mama bear who i’ve played twice and love

Amelia Bones (teresa palmer fc) who is VERY precious to me and is a character here on my indie too. I love her to bits and ALWAYS have a muse for her if someone’s interested.

Lucius Malfoy (dan stevens fc) my suave sarcastic slytherin baby

Frank Longbottom (ryan eggold fc) my little cinnamon roll who can kill you

Amycus Carrow (fawad khan fc) my sinnamon roll who was volatile af

Rudraksh Datta (hrithik roshan fc) an OC character for a Harry Potter RP. A muggle-born Slytherin lawyer fighting for minority rights.

Cornelius Flint (michael trevino fc) playboy journalist, father of Marcus Flint

Anwesha Singh (priyanka chopra fc) a genius scientist high-fae with scientific manipluation powers, OC character for an appless rpg

Orion Laphraios (ryan eggold fc) I love some of my fcs too much and usually reuse them. An OC who was a vampire and werewolf hunter in the same appless rpg as above.

ok now i can’t think of anyone else

10 I WOULD BRING BACK

Amelia Bones (teresa palmer fc) any day of the week. My precious fighter girl with a tragic past and an ambition that can put lots of men to shame <3 I LOVE HER SO MUCH

I’ve adapted many of my OCs here @orangeflamewrites, example: Anwesha and Orion. Though, I’ve also tried to bring Amelia back.

10 I WOULD LIKE TO RP

Sirius Black

Marlene Mckinnon

I don’t think I can think of anyone else atm nor any FCs that I’d like to play. *shakes brain trying to make it work*

AND I SHALL Now TAG SOME LOVELIES; @mobandroyalty, @byrdy, @youarehelium, @wingsandahalo, @kingvilliers, @fionainculta, @gentlemenxpassion, @saintofdreams, @yourbusinessdaddy.

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

I am in pain writing my boys like this

part thirty-two

❝ EFFORT ❞

MONDAY — JULY 30 — 5:02AM

AFTER AN EVENTFUL DAY OF NEVER COMING OUT OF BELLAMY’S ROOM, BENTLEY WOKE UP ON MONDAY MORNING LAYING BACK TO BACK WITH HIM. 

And the first thing he thought about was Bruce.

He wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him everything so bad — about the parties and the nightmares and the teachers and Tyler and Chloe and the (maybe?) Secret Keeper and his father. He wanted to just lay it all out at his feet so he didn’t have to deal with it alone anymore… but he couldn’t.

Because if he did, Bruce would come get them and take them home, and someone else would move into the dorm. He’d never see any of them again.

He had to show Bruce that he could do this no matter what kind of problems he had — he was thirteen, and he could deal with his issues by himself. He didn’t always need his dad or his brothers to swoop in and do it for him; he was capable. More than capable.

So for now, he decided, not a Wayne in the world would know a thing. Would it be easier on him if they did? Sure. But getting whisked home to live a life of solitude while every other teenager in the world did whatever they wanted didn’t sound like an ideal situation. Plus, he was pretty sure he’d have lost his mind if he didn’t stop homeschooling when he did.

It was okay. He was okay. Everyone was okay. Everything was okay.

He’d just focus on school — it was a good enough distraction. He did have seven classes to survive, and nine friendships to maintain.

(Or eight, if… Asten didn’t want to talk to him.)

So he decided that’s what he was gonna do. Just be a teenager, and try his best to forget about all the existential dread stuff.

He woke up, blocked the number his father had called him from, and left Bellamy’s room to go get ready. 

It was only a little after five, so he was able to get into his room and do everything he needed without waking Asten up, which was nice — because he wasn’t sure where they stood. They hadn't talked at all since the fight, but Bentley did end up in bed arrest in Bellamy's room, so he guessed it wasn't really either of their faults.

He grabbed his bag and all of his things out of his room and left, shutting the door softly behind him. Should he go back in Bellamy's room? Or just sit and the dining table and do something silent?

That moment was about when his phone vibrated in his hand.

The name on the text message was Chloe Singh. (He'd changed it almost immediately after she gave it to him.) It said: Hey, meet me at the fountain at 530?

He didn't even have time to think about replying before a second one came: Or at breakfast, if you're not a psycho that wakes up at 430 for school like me.

Bentley hummed to himself, typing a quick response.

Just text me when you're ready. I'm already dressed and all.

He hardly had time to look away before another message blipped onto the screen. Oh, okay! I'm ready then, haha.

With a faint little smile and a shrug, Bentley made sure he slid his keycard into his phone case and made for the door, leaving the dorm with his schoolbag in the dark.

When he made it down the stairs and the several sidewalks it took to get to the fountain with the willows, Chloe was already there in her uniform with her bag. Her blonde hair was tied up halfway with a black ribbon, and pin-straight so it looked extra long. She glanced back at him when she heard him approach and sent him a friendly wave, which he returned.

Were they technically friends now? How many times did you have to cry in front of someone before you became friends?

With that on his mind, Bentley made for the bench she was on, dropping his bag near his feet and taking a seat next to her.

"Good morning," She said quietly, eyes focused on campus staff that seemed to be moving something into the art building across the way, past the willow trees.

"Good morning," He replied.

"Listen, I just... wanted to apologize for Saturday night," She sighed, looking down at her lap and deflating slightly, a stark comparison to how confident she looked in class or the halls. "I had a massive breakdown and it was really weird. I word vomited so many unnecessary details."

Bentley shook his head, glancing over at her. "Don't apologize. We all have our moments. I, in particular, have had at least thirty since I moved into Redwood."

Chloe glanced at him, furrowing her brow. "I never imagined Bruce Wayne's heir would have moments."

"I wasn't always his," Bentley shrugged, forcing his father's voice out of his mind, focusing on Chloe's brown eyes that were watching him. "Anyways, it's no problem. Breakdowns suck, but they suck even worse if you're alone."

She blinked and looked away, then back. "That's why I wanted to say thank you," She continued, glancing down at her hands, fiddling with her fingers. "For being there for me. I... can honestly say I don't have anyone else, as pitiful and attention seeking as that sounds. Living a double life is really hard when everyone only knows the fake part."

Bentley watched her breathe in deep, then blow it out. "Anyways, not to get all pitiful. I think I have the rumors handled on my end... my roommates were the only ones who knew I was going to meet you, and they swore they wouldn't say anything. What about yours?"

"Only two know I was gone, and they won't say anything," Bentley shrugged. "I think we're safe."

A beat passed.

"Thank God," Chloe exhaled, brushing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "I'd never forgive myself if a chimp like Tyler Abbott got ahold of information like that. He'd have the entire campus believing whatever he wanted about us in, like, ten seconds."

Bentley didn't reply.

"Hey, you okay?" She continued, lowering her volume just a little. "You seem preoccupied."

Bentley shook his head in an attempt to shake himself back into the present and out of whatever routine of self loathing his mind was trying to put him in. "Yeah, just pretty drained. I've been really stressed lately."

"I'm sorry..." Chloe mumbled, and Bentley shrugged.

"It's not your fault," He continued, waving her off. "What about you? Were you okay after the other night?"

Chloe shrugged. "Same... just kinda drained. Emotions and their stupid, stupid existence have a way of doing that. But I'm feeling okay now. Practice for cheer tryouts starts after school today, so I pretty much am required to be okay."

A beat passed.

"So... did you and Layla end up having fun at the dance?" She questioned, looking across the way at the willows, a little hint of something he couldn't quite place filtering through into her words.

Bentley shrugged. "It was okay, but I... didn't go with her. I went with my roommates. To see the band that was playing."

"Oh," Chloe nodded to herself.

Another few moments of quiet passed.

"I... wanted to ask you something," Chloe started, turning to face him slightly on the bench, getting this... he wasn't sure. Embarrassed sort of look on her face. "You can totally say no if you want to; I know I'm not the easiest person to stomach."

"What is it?" Bentley questioned, turning toward her a little, too.

Chloe breathed in and out. "I know I was really mean and weird and stuff when we met, and I don't have any clever excuses to talk myself out of that. But I still... wanna be friends with you, if you want."

Bentley watched her nervously tuck a piece of hair behind her left her, her brown eyes straying down to the bench they were on.

"Yeah... I'd like that," Bentley replied, watching her anxiously pick at her nails. "But you... I don't want it to be some kind of ploy for your mom. If we're gonna be friends, I just... want to be friends. Not for anybody else."

"A hundred percent," Chloe nodded. "She won't have a clue I'm even talking to you anymore. She seems to have moved on in her searching for my perfect future divorce since I blew it with you already. Which means we're in the clear."

Bentley hummed in acknowledgment, glancing at her for a moment more before looking out at the trees again. "Can I ask an awkward question?"

"Sure," Chloe shrugged. "Can't be more awkward than me word vomiting my entire life's story, and my mothers."

Bentley found it in himself to chuckle at that. "I was just... wondering. Since you were only kinda acting, did you... mean what you told me? In class?"

Chloe glanced over at him quickly, her brow furrowed, before she seemed to realize what he meant. Her face flushed pink and she looked the other way. "That you're hot? I-I mean, yeah, I guess..."

Bentley didn't say anything.

"God, why can't I talk to you?" She mumbled, resting her elbows on her knees and dropping her head into her hands with a nervous little laugh. "It's so weird. Being, like, real. I always know what to say when I'm pretending."

Bentley shrugged. "Maybe you should... not pretend."

"I can't do that!" She said suddenly, sitting up. "My mother would disown me if I even thought about acting contrary to how she wants."

Bentley hummed. "How does she know what you act like here at school?"

Chloe looked up at him, a cringe spreading across her face. "She's the assistant Dean. She lives on campus."

Bentley blinked. "Oh..."

"Yeah..." Chloe shook her head. "I literally can't get away from her and her prying eyes through the school-day. That's why I wanted to talk to you now, before the day starts."

Bentley couldn't even imagine his father watching him like a hawk like that. When he first went to the Wayne's to, quote-on-quote, destroy them, he could hardly fathom the anxiety caused by the fact that his father may have possibly been watching. But Chloe's mom, putting her up to something out of greed, punishing her when she failed, watching her to make sure she was perfect... maybe they weren't so different after all.

Bentley didn’t say anything for a few minutes.

��So, are you liking it so far, here? I’ve heard Gotham is way different from New York,” She questioned. (How many times was he going to be asked that question?)

He shrugged. “New York is really cool. I like it here. It feels more… alive.”

Chloe nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “There’s so much that goes on, it's hard to get away from it all. That's why I like it so much here.”

Another beat passed.

“So, if it's not off limits, what are your powers?” Bentley questioned, glancing over at her. “I haven’t seen or heard anything about them.”

“Oh, I…” Chloe started, looking off at the trees ahead of them. “I… uh…”

Bentley could recognize discomfort when he saw it. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I just…” She trailed off, breathing deep and holding it for a second, then exhaling. “I don’t have any.”

Bentley furrowed his brow. Wasn’t Redwood only for metahumans?

“My sisters do, and I have the genes for it, I just… they… haven’t appeared yet. My mom says that sometimes it takes a lot to make them show up,” Chloe shrugged. 

Bentley vaguely remembered hearing something about that when he was dealing with the whole Dr. Keene disaster -- it was like how Nico’s super speed only started to show up after he learned he was adopted, and only really showed up after he got kidnapped and put in a big machine that messed with his DNA. He remembered that metahumans finding their powers was… usually due to trauma.

He wasn’t quite sure what that said about the rest of the Redwood students. But maybe it was a good thing that Chloe didn’t have hers.

“I guess we’ll just have to see, then,” Bentley shrugged.

“I guess so…”

They fell into a comfortable silence, looking out at the willow trees in front of them.

Okay.. maybe Bentley had ten friendships to maintain.

--

When breakfast came around, Bentley sat across the table from Asten.

They didn’t say anything to each other. Bentley looked over at him a few times, but he was always talking to Rockie, or looking down at the table, or across the room. Valor was watching the both of them -- Bentley noticed his gaze a few times, calculating, contemplating -- but when Bentley’s eyes met his, it always switched to a supportive smile, faint enough to go missed by everyone else but present enough to be a little comforting.

Bentley and Asten didn’t talk at lunch, either.

And when music theory came around, Asten only spoke to Rockie, and Bentley only spoke to Vera, and in free period, Asten sat with Rockie, and Bellamy and Valor sat with Bentley. It was…

Weird.

He went to practice soccer with Varian and Koa, and they talked about nothing and everything. He went to dinner, where Asten deliberately ignored him even though they were within whispering distance from one another. And then he did his homework at the dining table, and listened to his roommates talk, and hung out, and texted Chloe, and went to bed without saying anything to his best friend who was sleeping one bunk away.

As wrong as it felt, Bentley was the one who’d been right. Asten was a hypocrite and all the lovely things Bentley had said in his anger fueled haze. So, for this one time, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t going to allow himself to apologize.

If Asten wanted to talk to him, Asten was going to have to put in the effort.

And as far as Bentley could tell, right now, he didn’t care very much.

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: fear???

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

the whole time i was writing this chapter i had the “three little birds sat on my window” song stuck in my head so i named the chapter that lmao

part thirty-four

❝ THREE LITTLE BIRDS ❞

FRIDAY — AUGUST 3 — 11:43PM

BENTLEY’S BARE FEET SKIDDED ON THE WHITE FLOOR AS HE RAN FULL-SPEED INTO A LEFT TURN, NEARLY FALLING RIGHT OVER DUE TO THE BLIND PANIC HE’D FOUND HIMSELF IN.

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t hear. The only instinct he could grab ahold of in that moment was run, so he was running; through the white hallways that reminded him so much of Dr. Keene’s lab, the back of his eyes burning spectacularly, because…

Her.

She…

He narrowly missed banging into the wall on his next full-speed right turn. Where was he going? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything other than the fact that he needed to run.

“Don’t be afraid, Babybird,” She cooed from nowhere, directly into his ears, his skull. “You were bound to find me again one day. Don’t act so shocked.”

Bentley pushed himself as fast as he could go, the burning behind his eyes quickly turning to full-fledged tears that started streaming down his face and strangled sobs that ripped their way up his throat. He had to get out of there. He had to get out. He had to-

“Careful where you’re going,”

Bentley skidded into another left turn as fast as his legs could move, blindly.

And as soon as he turned, he slammed face-first into something else — something that had been moving really fast, too. Something that made a muffled sound when they hit, and made a thump on the white floor just like Bentley did.

He forced himself up almost immediately, shoving himself off of the floor so urgently he careened into the wall from the force. Pain was blooming through his veins and muscles and bones but he ignored it. He had to run, he had to-

“Bentley?”

He managed to focus through his terror and tears on the person who he’d rammed into.

Rockie jerked himself off the floor, stumbling a few steps backwards. He wasn’t in a hospital gown like Bentley, but a solid white jumpsuit with nothing on it, the sleeves tucked down into his metal gloves. He was panting, and he also had tears streaming down the sides of his face, too.

“…Rockie?” He questioned. A loud wham erupted from the end of the hall, the direction Rockie had been coming from — so he lurched forward and grabbed Bentley’s arm and pulled him away from the sound, back the direction he’d just come.

“No, no, no, no, stop!” Bentley ordered, digging his heels into the floor and baring all of his weight against Rockie’s grip. “She’s this way, she was behind me, she was-“

Rockie turned to look at him, wiping his furiously watering eyes. “You can see her, too?”

Bentley didn’t say anything.

“My two favorite birds,” Her voice came, and Rockie looked around frantically, as though he heard her, as well. He pulled on Bentleys arm until he was haphazardly placed behind his back, protection that wouldn’t actually help against a psychopath like her. “Isn’t it kind of rude if we don’t invite my third favorite birdy, though?” 

Bentley and Rockie both whipped around instantly, hearts hammering in their ribcages when a bloodcurdling scream from a familiar voice ripped down the hall from somewhere they couldn’t see. “No!”

Rockie’s grip on Bentley’s arm was so tight it was painful, but Bentley couldn’t find it in himself to care. Between the terror and the crying, he couldn’t even think straight enough to focus on it.

“No! No, please!”

Bentley knew that voice. He knew it, and if he could get his mind to obeyhim for half a second, he might be able to tell who it was. But his mind didn’tobey — his heart was slamming around in his chest, booming in his ears, and it felt like his throat was full of cotton that was blocking his airway. He was having to put so much of his willpower into not having a panic attack that he physically couldn’t think about anything else.

Luckily, Rockie’s brain was working a little better than his, because he wiped his eyes with one hand and muttered: “It’s Bellamy.”

Bentley glanced down the hallway, and a new sort of terror and panic joined the terror and panic he’d already been experiencing — the inescapable dread that came along with the realization that she had him. Bellamy. And that he needed to get him the hell��away from her.

Shit.

Without warning (or much thought) Bentley wrenched his arm out of Rockie’s grasp and started running toward the screaming.

“Bentley!” He heard Rockie call out, but it went mostly over his head.

Bentley took a few turns, listening dutifully for where the screams seemed to be coming from, and not much later, he heard Rockie’s footsteps coming from behind him. He turned one more time until he was sure he was on the hallway where the screaming was originating — it was lined with dozens of metal doors, all standing open, hall lights off but the dim lights in the rooms filtering into the empty corridor. 

Bentley inched down the hall, glancing into the doors one by one as he passed. Most of the rooms were solid white and empty, apart from the occasional set of chains attached to the floor or ceiling. He put a hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs into something quiet — not that that would help against a girl who fought him inside his own head.

He suddenly realized the sound of their footsteps had thinned to one pair, and that meant Rockie had stopped walking.

Bentley turned back, and luckily, the older boy hadn’t vanished. He was just standing at one of the doors, staring inside an empty room.

Bentley backtracked, walking up to the door he was looking at and peering inside. Bellamy wasn’t in there, but there was a set of chains attached to the floor, and a…

Rubik’s cube? Just sitting in the middle of the room? 

He glanced up at Rockie, who seemed fixated on the little thing for reasons Bentley wasn’t aware of, but he didn’t seem interested or even confused. He seemed like he could be, almost… sad? Or afraid? Something like recognition, nostalgia was swirling in his green irises, but not the good type; and Bentley wondered why.

“No! Please!”

Both Rockie and Bentley whipped around at the startling proximity of the screaming to them — like Bellamy was in one of the few rooms they were right next to.

Then, in one sudden moment that scared them all half to death, Bellamy shot out of the door right across the hallway (hadn’t Bentley just checked that one?) and screamed in terror when he saw them, skidding to an abrupt stop.

He was in the same jumpsuit as Rockie, his brown eyes red and streaming with endless tears. The moment his gaze flicked between them, and he comprehended who it actually was, he dissolved into a bout of quiet, entire-body wracking sobs, lurching forward and grabbing around Bentley’s torso for dear life.

“She-she’s gonna k-ill me,” He choked, crying so hard he started coughing. “She’s gonna- she’s gonna…”

“Why are you so scared? I haven’t even touched you yet,”

As much as Bentley hated it, he wiped his (still crying) eyes and forced Bellamy to let go of him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him blindly, quickly down the hall with Rockie hot on their heels. He didn’t know where they were going. Somewhere. Anywhere.

And then all the lights cut off.

The three of them skidded to a blind stop, and Bellamy stayed pressed up against Bentley’s left side, holding onto his hospital gown like he’d float away if he let go. The only sounds that were audible in the dark halls were the soft telltale sniffles that came with all three of them crying. 

Then there was a faint click-click-click sound from right next to them. Then a clack! (The click-click-click clack! of Davis taking off his metal gloves and dropping them on the floor echoed in Bentley’s mind for half a second. Now that he thought about it, Rockie’s gloves looked just like his.)

“What’re you going to do with that hand?” Her voice came, with a mocking tone, confirming Bentley’s suspicions that a glove had been removed. “I’m in your mind. Nothing you do to me is real.”

The arms that were around him tightened, and Bentley looked down into the pitch blackness at where he thought Bellamy’s head would be if he could see.

“But what I do to you, that is real. If I want it to be,”

Bentley turned his head in the darkness when a pained noise came from his right. “Rockie?”

No reply — just dead, dead silence that lasted far longer than he’d have liked. Then came a simple thump.

The lights flicked on, and Rockie was unconscious in the floor, nose and ears pouring blood.

“Rockie!” Bentley tried kneeling down to him, but he suddenly couldn’t move, like his legs and arms and muscles weren’t obeying him. 

Like he was on the roof and she’d slid a noose over his head and he was walking to the edge against his will-

The only thing Bentley had control over seemed to be the fact that he was crying. His arms and legs just moved without him, and he took a few steps backwards until his back thudded against the wall. “Bellamy, run.”

Bentley saw his bloodshot brown eyes for only a millisecond before everything went black again. It felt like he was pinned to the wall — his muscles didn’t respond, none of them except for his face. Maybe because him crying in terror brought her joy?

The lights flicked back on, and she was standing directly in front of him, her face only inches from his, her hands baring down on his shoulders just hard enough to cause a little pain. Her stitched smile looked fresh, but it always looked fresh, and her amber eyes were drilling into his skull with an absolutely manic look about them. Her platinum hair was hanging down, and every time she exhaled, she blew the blood-soaked strands into Bentley’s face.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t try to fight. He just sobbed.

“You’re no fun anymore, babybird. What do I have to do to get a rise out of you nowadays?”

Her amber eyes slid over to Bellamy, who was standing a mere dozen feet away, mortified, staring with tears streaming down his face at a rapid rate.

Bentley tried to move, but his body didn’t obey. “Don’t touch him.”

He saw Bellamy turn to run in his peripheral, so the Secret Keeper let go of one of Bentley’s shoulders and pointed at him. “Don’t move, Birdy.”

Bellamy went rigid, stopped in his tracks — which likely meant she had his body, too.

“Don’t touch him!” Bentley repeated, louder, though it didn’t sound tough when he was crying his eyes out. A maniacal, sinister giggle bubbled up out of the Secret Keeper’s chest. 

“I don’t have to,”

Bellamy was facing away from Bentley, but he started screaming. Not the scared sort of screaming from earlier, but a worse scream, rooted in pain that couldn’t be explained by words.

“Stop!” Bentley shouted, trying his best to move his body even though it just wouldn’t move. “Stop! Do it to me instead!”

“What’s the fun in that?” She laughed. She snapped her fingers and Bellamy fell like his strings had been cut, curling up tightly on the floor with screams and sobs of pure agony.

“Stop! Stop it, please! Why are you doing this?!” Bentley continued with a sob, glancing over at Rockie, who was still unconscious on the floor. “We didn’t do anything to you!”

“If I do recall, babybird, you tried to kill me,” She spat, venom on her tongue, amber eyes boring into his skull. “I think a little revenge is justified.”

“You were trying to hang me!” He cried, eyes flicking to Bellamy, who was still screaming. “Please. He’s just a kid. He didn’t do anything.”

She blinked once, twice, as though she was processing something. Something in her amber eyes shifted. “Say my name.”

Bentley tried to move, to wrench himself out of her grip, but he couldn’t make his body obey.

“Say my name!” She ordered, louder, almost desperately. Then she shouted: “Shut up!” But it wasn’t at him, it was almost… at herself?

“Say my name!” She repeated.  “Shut up!”

Why did she want him to…

To…

Bentley looked at her, choking on a few more quiet sobs. “Charlie?”

The Secret Keeper made a sound akin to an animalistic growl, flinching away from him and clawing at her own face like he’d sprayed acid in her eyes. 

He could move his fingers.

“Charlie,” He repeated, sniffling lightly. Bellamy’s screaming began to subside. 

“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll kill him right now!” She spat, pointing at Bellamy again, who screamed like someone had just stabbed him.

“Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie-“

The Secret Keeper covered her ears and roared like some kind of beast.

And then she stopped. 

And she looked at him.

Her eyes began to flicker — between amber and blue. 

“Wake up,” Her voice said. It was lighter, smoother, different. It wasn’t the Secret Keeper, it was Charlie. “Wake up!”

Bentley felt like he’d been shot in the head, like he was falling and spinning in circles at unimaginable speeds. Like he was hurdling through outer-space while it threatened to tear him apart.

A high-pitched ring squealed in his ears, so loud it hurt. White swam in his vision and morphed into a myriad of colors. And with a whoosh sound and a wave of vertigo that made him instantly nauseous, Rockie’s bathroom swam into focus.

Bentley was on the floor, his back braced against the sink cabinet and aching like he’d fallen. He had tears streaming down his face, and it was hard to breathe, like he had cotton in his throat-

Rockie jumped out of his asleep (unconscious?) state on the floor with a shout of terror, scrambling there until he was nothing more than a small ball shoved in the corner against the bathtub. Bentley might’ve said something to him, if he could get air to enter his body, which he couldn’t.

He forced himself to look over at Rockie. His nose and ears weren’t bleeding like they had been in… there. The nightmare, vision thing. (Bentley had been a hundred percent awake when he was pulled into that.. so he wasn’t sure what to call it.)

Rockie had his legs tucked up to his chest as close as they could go, gloved hands laced in his hair with his head down, sobs wracking his trembling frame. He looked eerily small.

Bentley thought again about reaching out, but he was crying so hard he couldn’t get his brain to listen. He just pulled his knees up, too, wrapping his arms around them only to find that his entire body was trembling violently.

“You were… in my…?” Rockie mumbled. Bentley guessed he was about to say nightmare. He wondered how long he’d been in there with the Secret Keeper alone before she pulled Bentley into it.

Bentley gave him a jerky nod.

And then someone across the dorm started screaming.

They finally managed to look at each other, their terrified, wide, crying eyes locking, brown and green.

Rockie pushed himself out of the floor on queue, but Bentley’s body didn’t obey as well as his — he thought about getting up, but he was teetering right on the edge of full-blown panic attack, and somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do anything.

“C’mon, buddy,” Rockie hiccuped lightly. “…I gotcha.”

Bentley didn’t fight when Rockie grabbed his arms and helped lift him off the bathroom floor. “It’s okay; we’re not in there anymore,” (Though it wasn’t as reassuring as it could’ve been, given Rockie was still crying, too — but he was managing to calm himself down much quicker than Bentley was.)

Bentley didn’t say anything, he just sort of stood there and let Rockie rub his arms because it felt like literally anything else would send him directly into an anxiety attack. (He had to physically fight the urge to lurch forward and hug him and have a breakdown, but that was okay.)

“I’m gonna go check on Bellamy. Do you want to come?”

Bentley nodded jerkily, and Rockie spent another second rubbing his arms before he turned and made his way out of the bathroom and toward the bedroom door.

Bentley followed along numbly. He had a throbbing headache forming at the front of his skull, and his head already kinda felt all fuzzy and staticky — like being on a foggy road and only being able to see a few yards in front of the car. He did not miss that feeling.

He blindly followed Rockie out into the living area, where strangely, no one was. Varian wasn’t in there anymore, and his bedroom door was open, indicating that Koa, too, was gone.

Rockie wasted no time going straight to Bellamy’s door and swinging it open. They went in, and it took a second for Bentley to focus enough on the room to realize something was… wrong.

Bellamy wasn’t in there.

Bentley managed to grab ahold of at least a little clarity as he glanced around the room. The bed was empty, the bathroom was open with no humans inside, the desk chair was pushed in with no one in sight, and Bentley felt that panic attack threat come roaring back twice as hard as it had earlier.

“Where did he go?” Rockie questioned softly, glancing around the vacant bedroom.

Bentley suddenly couldn’t breathe very good again. He started to hear things like the water in the pipes, and Rockie’s heartbeat, and his own blood moving in his veins, and-

Another heartbeat, twice as fast, pounding so loud it drowned out the rest of the noise, blood forcing itself through veins with a panicked violence. And then the feeling of something else closely associated with it came, moving faster and more freely— tears. 

Bentley let his eyes drift around the bedroom, to the bathroom shower curtain, under the bed, the top bunk, the wardrobe-

It was coming from the wardrobe.

He could breathe easy again.

Bentley, for a moment, just looked at the piece of furniture. It was the exact same one that he and Asten had in their room, a deep wood with a pair of big doors.

“What do you hear?” Rockie questioned, and Bentley glanced over at him, blinking.

“He’s in the wardrobe,” Bentley replied, moving toward the big wooden mass. “I can feel his blood.”

Rockie didn’t say anything. Bentley lifted his hands to the small round handles on the wardrobe, but stopped short and knocked on the front of the door instead. “Bellamy? It’s Bentley.”

There was a moment where nothing happened. 

And then the left wardrobe door creaked open the tiniest bit, and Bentley saw one of Bellamy’s brown eyes peek out to look at him. (Hopefully he didn’t look too terrible, but he was still crying real good, so the odds of that were pretty low.)

Bellamy just looked at him for a solid ten seconds, before the door swung open and he came stumbling out, immediately synching his arms around Bentley’s torso for dear life.

“It’s okay,” Bentley muttered, but it probably didn’t sound too reassuring, given the crying he’d been trying to stifle was coming back harder now that Bellamy was sobbing into his shirt. “I saw her, too. But she’s not really here.”

Yet.

Bellamy didn’t say anything, he just held onto Bentley’s shirt like he was on the verge of death.

Charlie Reins was alive.

The Secret Keeper was alive. 

Which meant something even scarier than her looming presence in Bentleys mind. It either meant that she had immortality, or that…

Or that…

Bruce had lied to him.

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: emeto, violence, gore, major character death (ive always wanted to list that)

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

I don't have any words for you guys except I'm sorry and I'm crying too

part fifty-three

❝ DENIAL ❞

MONDAY — OCTOBER 31 — 12:49AM

BENTLEY LED BELLAMY OUT OF HIS CELL AND INTO THE HALLWAY, WHERE EVERYBODY ELSE WAS WAITING IN THE ELEVATOR, HOLDING THE DOORS OPEN FOR HIM.

“Go,” Bentley said quietly, ushering him along toward the doors. Bellamy was still crying softly, (And, honestly, Bentley was just about two seconds away from bawling his eyeballs out, too.) Rockie was just waiting outside the elevator doors for them, fidgeting anxiously with the keycard he had.

Bellamy glanced back at Bentley when they approached the elevator, and Bentley rubbed his back reassuringly. “Go ahead. It’s going to be okay.”

With a quiet hiccup, Bellamy wiped his eyes and moved forward. Koa reached out for him, drawing him into the elevator and resting his hands on his shoulders to keep him there.

“Get off campus immediately. You’re going to get your powers back when you get to the surface, so if anybody tries anything, kill them,” Rockie ordered to the group, reaching into the elevator and tapping the keycard there. “We’ll be up soon.”

“You’re not coming?” Bellamy asked suddenly, his brown eyes lingering on Bentley’s face, wide with dread, with fear.

“I… I’ll be up soon,” Bentley replied. Rockie pushed a button on the inside of the elevator and stepped away, a piercing beep cutting through the air.

“What?” Bellamy muttered, seeming almost startled, his eyes flicking to the elevator’s panel on the inside, then back to Bentley in a panic. The doors started closing and Bentley saw Koa hold tight to his shoulders to keep him from running back out, a few sad sobs ripping their way out of him as the doors slid shut. “No, Bentley! They'll kill you!”

The doors closed fully, and the machine whirred to life, leaving Bentley and Rockie in the white hallway alone.

With an exhale, Bentley looked down at his socked feet, lingering for a moment in the silence. What if that was the last time he’d see one of them? Varian? What if Varian didn’t wake up? What if it was the last time he saw Vera? Or Koa? Or Valor? Or Summer? Or Bellamy?

Bentley flinched when Rockie’s gloved hand came to rest on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Bentley said nothing, but gently shrugged his hand off. “Fine.”

Rockie sighed heavily, turning and starting back down the hall, toward the elevator that led back to the main part of the facility. “Asten and Layla are in the medical wing already — I saw them being escorted in there along with some other kids,” Rockie shook his head. “They're moving so fast I guess they decided to cut out steps of the protocol.”

Bentley blinked at him, turning and following closely behind. “So what you’re saying is-“

“They’re probably already getting drained. The process takes about four hours, they've been in there for maybe thirty minutes. Kids... typically start to die about three hours in,” Rockie explained quickly. He made it to the elevator and tapped the keycard on the panel, summoning the elevator back down to them. “And now that security is looking for us, it’s gonna be one hell of a fight to make it there. They’ll shoot on sight.”

Bentley watched the elevator doors slide open, nodding to himself. “Then let’s... stay out of sight.”

“Yeah,” Rockie scoffed, stepping into the elevator. Bentley followed. “Simple.”

“It is simple, when you have me,” A fluttery falsetto came in Bentley’s head. “Hey. Sorry I’m late to the party.”

“Charlie,” He whispered, settling into the elevator and turning his head slightly away from Rockie. “Where have you been?”

“What?” Rockie asked.

“I kept her distracted for a little bit, but then she realized it wasn’t you there,” Charlie explained with a soft sigh. Rockie pushed buttons in his peripheral. “So I went about screwing with the guys who watch the security cameras and made them see nothing. As well as routing all people away from you in the halls, while simultaneously fighting for my life because the Secret Keeper was trying to murder me inside my own head. You’re welcome.”

Bentley exhaled heavily as the doors slid closed and the elevator dinged. That's why he hadn't seen anything? Anyone? That's why everything had gone so good? Because of Charlie?

“Thank you.”

“Are you losing your mind right in front of me?” Rockie questioned, waving a gloved hand in front of Bentley’s face. “Who are you talking to?”

Bentley glanced over at him with a soft sigh as the elevator kicked into its ascent. “It’s complicated.”

Rockie just blinked at him.

"Go on, explain it," Charlie urged.

Bentley sighed heavily. “The Secret Keeper, the telepath? She's like an alter ego forced into a girl's body, so there’s, like, two different people inside of her. The original girl, Charlie Reins, uses the Secret Keeper’s powers to talk to me,” He explained quickly as the elevator rose up the shaft. “She said she’ll help us, but you have to do what I say.”

"Help?" Rockie scoffed.

"Yes. She can read minds and see the future like the Secret Keeper. She's the only reason I made it through this place last time," Bentley continued.

Rockie narrowed his eyes at him, and a long moment of silence came where Bentley glanced anxiously at the elevator doors. Rockie hummed quietly to himself for a minute, glancing around the tiny room. “Are you lying to me right now?”

“What?” Bentley questioned incredulously, scrunching his face up in Rockie's direction. "No, I'm not lying. I'm not like you."

It looked like Rockie debated on saying something, but decided on sighing instead, looking away from Bentley and crossing his arms. "You can stop with the cheap jabs now, they're getting a little old."

The redhead glanced over at him. “Sorry, I just assumed you stopped caring about my opinion when you walked out on us.”

Rockie suddenly turned, and Bentley didn’t even have time to react before he grabbed him by the front of his jumpsuit and shoved him back against the elevator wall with a thud, standing over him unsettlingly. Bentley'd forgotten how tall he was. “If I didn’t go with them, they were going to kill you all, one by one, until I caved,” He hissed, the damn near most venomous sentence Bentley had heard from anyone since he moved into Redwood. “But if I had known you were all going to be fucking assholes about it, maybe I would’ve let them.”

Bentley wedged his hands up between the two of them, channeling all his currently available strength into shoving Rockie in the chest. He stumbled maybe a foot or two away. “Don’t touch me.”

For a few moments, neither of them said anything — they just looked at each other. Rockie’s green eyes were glowing like they always did, but somehow they were different. Bentley wasn’t really sure how. Almost like some aspect of them had been stripped away, peeled off.

Rockie crossed his arms tightly. “I didn’t even do anything to you,” He mumbled, his voice strangely small, his eyes drifting down to the floor. “You're acting like I shot you in the foot and tossed you in a cell myself. All I did was walk away.”

Bentley crossed his arms tightly, too.

“And that was enough,”

Another moment of silence passed.

“When people are scared, they show you what they really care about,” Bentley exhaled lightly, eyes drifting to the floor, then back up to Rockie. “And you walked away.”

“So I’m the bad guy now, for not wanting to die? For not wanting you to die? Is that it?” Rockie questioned, flicking his hands out to the side. “You don’t seem to understand, Bentley. When they said I would be punished for staying, they planned to kill you all. It’s been the deal since the beginning — if I betrayed them, they’d kill everybody I cared about. It never mattered before, because I never had anyone…”

Bentley didn’t say anything, just watched Rockie look back down at the floor, dragging the toe of his tennis shoe there. “Hate me if you want to... But I saved your life by walking out. And I'd do it again.”

Suddenly, the elevator jolted to a very abrupt stop with the loud sound of metal scraping on metal, knocking both Bentley and Rockie off balance. Rockie stumbled into the wall and Bentley nearly fell into him.

Both of them, eyes wide, looked around in a panic.

“What the hell?” Rockie muttered.

“She had them disable the elevators,” Charlie said into Bentley’s head with an irritated sigh. “But the others made it out before they did. Don’t worry. I’m working on it.”

“They disabled it,” Bentley repeated, glancing around the small white box they were trapped in. “Charlie said she’s working on it.”

Rockie moved for the doors, trying futilely to shove his metal gloved fingers in the crevice between them and pry them open. Bentley glanced up — there was what looked like an emergency hatch there on the ceiling, a square outline among the white, but they didn’t need it if Charlie was going to help, right?

He glanced back down at Rockie, who was still pulling on the doors, almost frantically.

“They won’t open. We’re probably stuck between floors anyways,” Bentley said. Rockie didn’t say anything, but kept tugging and pulling at them, not even sparing him a glance.

“Rockie,” Bentley started, taking a step to the side in a bid to see his face. He furrowed his brows when he realized that Rockie was suddenly breathing in a familiar manner — quick, and shallow, like Bentley when he got too stressed out.

“Rockie?” Bentley questioned, taking another step to the side. “Are you claustrophobic?”

“No,” He gritted out, still prying at the doors.

Suddenly, a stab of pain ripped through Bentley’s skull, and he reached a hand out, resting it on the elevator wall to support his weight.

“You think you’re so clever, getting Charlie to distract me. Who’s to say this isn’t all part of my plan? That it’s not all supposed to happen like this?” The Secret Keeper’s voice came in his head, and she laughed; a bubbly, sinister sound. “The babybird’s stuck in a cage while his friends are dying. You’re playing right into my hand, Bentley.”

“Get out of my head,” He ordered softly, bringing his hand up to his right temple when a spike of pain stabbed him there. He didn't see Rockie look back at him.

“It isn’t that easy,”

Suddenly, the elevator melted away around him, replaced with the white abyss he’d grown so accustomed to. With an irritated exhale, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked around at the nothing in the room.

"Well? What're you gonna show me?" He questioned, throwing his hands out to the side. “Get it over with already.”

The Secret Keeper laughed. "Eager, are we?"

“I have somewhere to be,” He replied with the shake of his head. “So, what is it? Asten bleeding to death? Layla with a flatline?”

“Look at you! Growing a spine!” The Secret Keeper chided, fizzling into view only a few feet away from him, giggling and beginning to circle him, slowly, like a vulture. “Baby Bentley isn’t such a baby anymore! It’s a far cry from that ten year old I met four years ago who vomited when I first showed myself.”

“What the hell do you want?” Bentley asked, turning in a circle as she rounded behind him, following her with his eyes. “Why do you insist on being a constant pest?”

A separate voice suddenly came, a whisper among the white; a familiar whisper — Charlie. So faint the Secret Keeper didn’t seem to hear it. “Bentley, don’t believe what she shows you. She can’t kill me if weren’t not in the physical world.”

“I think you should ask yourself that question,” The Secret Keeper sneered, reaching out and dragging her fingers across Bentley’s jawline and chin as she walked. He brought a hand up and whacked hers away; he didn’t really know what he’d expected, for it to feel real or for him to phase right through her, but to his surprise, he was able to slap her hand away from him.

She chuckled at him. “You’re welcome. I’m the one who brought this out in you, you know. I made you this way.”

“You have nothing to do with who I am,” Bentley scoffed, turning as she rounded him. “My family made me who I am.”

“Your family?” She laughed. “You finally stepped up and became brave when you were facing me eye-to-eye on that rooftop. You only grew a spine to defy me. You don’t need a spine to live with the perfect little family — you don’t grow one that way. You grow one through trials. Fighting.”

“I-”

“Even if you were to win, Bentley, you would have my scent all over you for the rest of your life. I’ve left my impression on your personality — you’ll never, ever, ever be able to get away from it,” She explained, not even allowing him time to speak. “I’m part of you now, Babybird. My memory will always be there, crawling across your skin, running through your veins. After all, we’re both just villains, aren’t we? Puppeteer?”

Bentley felt himself tense for a second, but he shifted his weight in an attempt to hide it, blinking in a bid to rid his memory of the name.

“Ooh, struck a nerve?”

“Don’t call me that,” Bentley ordered, his gaze drifting down to the white floor.

“Why? It’s who you are. Pieces of your father, pieces of me — you could be unstoppable, if it weren’t for all of those dreadful emotions you can’t seem to contain,” She chuckled. “I show you the simplest things, and you crumble completely.”

Bentley just watched as she slowed to a stop in front of him, twisted stitched and bleeding smile still stretching wide across her features. “By the way — I have someone for you to see.”

She held a hand out by her side, and smoke swirled under it. Charlie materialized there. She was on the floor on her knees, no longer in her purple dress, but a white jumpsuit like the one Bentley was in.

Bentley inhaled at the sight of her. Her blonde hair was red at the ends with blood, and her jumpsuit, once solid white, was now three quarters crimson. Her face was busted up and scraped and bruised so bad she hardly looked like herself, shallow, precise cuts from a knife arcing up from either side of her mouth to imitate The Secret Keeper’s signature smile. The cuts made almost half of her face red with blood, and it was still coming, running down her neck and all over the rest of her. Her blue eyes were dull, and she wasn’t really looking at him. Or anything. She was just kind of… staring off.

She can’t kill me if we’re not in the physical world.

Bentley, though the sheer amount of blood threatened to make his world swirl out of focus, merely drew in a breath.

The Secret Keeper held out her opposite hand, and the same dagger she’d tried to stab Bentley with appeared in it. Chains came from the abyss above them and latched onto Charlie’s wrists, jerking her arms up above her head.

She can’t kill me if we’re not in the physical world. Bentley forced himself to remember her words. She couldn’t kill her. She couldn’t kill her. She couldn’t kill her.

The Secret Keeper stabbed her in the chest directly in front of Bentley and twisted it with a sickening laugh.

Bentley’s stomach lurched at the explosion of red that immediately stained her jumpsuit even more than it already had, and the blood-curdling, strangled sounding scream she let out made something writhe beneath his skin.

“Don’t react!” Her voice came, a whisper, but he was already snapping a hand over his mouth in a bid to quiet the sudden and intense wave of nausea that made him feel really sick. The Secret Keeper was just laughing. At Charlie. At the knife. “Put your hand down! Be unbothered!”

Bentley snapped his hand down by his side, keeping his lips pressed into a firm line — the last line of defense should his body actually decide to make him throw up. Could he even throw up in the white place? Or would he just be throwing up in real life?

The Secret Keeper pulled the knife out, splattering blood on her face in the process, and she looked over at Bentley. Charlie had gone slack and nearly unconscious in the chains.

Bentley swallowed hard, forcing the nausea down, forcing the terror off of his face and out of his head so maybe she couldn’t feel it. He replaced it with hatred and disdain instead.

She couldn’t kill her.

He crossed his arms over his chest, trying really, really hard to keep his body language natural and free of tension while she was looking at him. With blood all over her face.

“If you react, I’ll kill you myself!” Came Charlie’s whisper, and then a second later: “Okay, inappropriate joke. I won’t. But you get how serious I am! I’ll work to keep her out of your head, but you’ve gotta keep all that disgust off of your face.”

Bentley drew in a breath, trailing his eyes across the blood on her face and pretending it didn’t make his stomach churn unsettlingly. “Are you finished?”

“Oh my God, Bentley!” Charlie whispered, sounding pleasantly surprised. “You’re such a fucking savage.”

I’m literally about to vomit, he made himself think.

“Yeah, well, don’t!”

The Secret Keeper, evidently still hung on his, quote-on-quote, savage question, stepped forward. Her eyes went colder than Asten’s old cell, and she dropped the dagger, the weapon exploding into a puff of smoke when it hit the floor, disappearing entirely. “Excuse me?”

Bentley lifted his brows at her. “Are. You. Finished? I have shit to do.”

The Secret Keeper cocked her head at him like a dog, taking a step forward, without a word.

“Get out of my head,” Bentley demanded, taking a step toward her. She creased her brow at him, almost like he’d… done something she hadn’t expected.

“What?” She growled, her cold gaze turning sinister very, very quickly. She started inching forward; dragging her feet across the floor toward him.

Bentley didn’t move. “I said get out of my head.”

The Secret Keeper didn’t speak; she only twitched. One of her eyes, and her left hand, like she was feeling for something that didn’t exist. A knife, Bentley assumed, since he was so royally pissing her off.

“Get out of my head!” He repeated, stepping forward again. The Secret Keeper looked down at his feet, like she couldn’t believe he was getting closer to her.

She stepped forward, too. “Who do you think you are, speaking to me like that? Why-”

“Get out!”

On the second word, Bentley gathered all the courage and bravery he could muster to step forward and shove her as hard as he could. She wasn’t very big, so she actually staggered maybe a yard away, and stumbled over her own feet, and then fell, and when she hit the white floor-

He jolted back into the real world with a gasp, standing in the elevator, one hand braced on the wall, the other laced in his hair.

At once he remembered the literal stabbing he had witnessed, and the bloodcurdling scream. He’d watched her stab Charlie straight in the chest. Like, stab.

He turned on his heel, dug his fingers into the stomach of his jumpsuit, and threw up a rather pitiful amount of bile in the corner of the disabled elevator.

Rockie, who had been sitting in the corner near the door, diagonal from him, moved with a soft: "Oh, shit."

Bentley's head was throbbing with the same murderous migraine he'd forgotten in his panic earlier; but it was a newer, worse pain. The room threatened to spin with every attempt to open his eyes, and his adrenaline began to be replaced by a toxic exhaustion, clawing up his ankles and making it hard to focus.

Rockie was suddenly touching him, one hand on his back and the other holding tight to his left arm, keeping him from swaying.

"You don't look very good," He oh-so-helpfully stated.

"Don't feel very good," Bentley murmured back, screwing his hand up in the stomach of his jumpsuit when it threatened to lurch again. He kept trying to open his eyes but everything just kept swirling. "I think I might faint."

"What? Please don't," Rockie begged, his head dipping down so Bentley could've seen him if his eyes were open. He could've swore he sounded... desperate, or afraid, or something. He couldn't tell just then.

It was about at that point that Bentley's legs decided that they didn't want to work, and they gave out beneath him; the only thing keeping him from hitting the floor was Rockie's grip, grabbing him firmly by the shoulders.

"Okay. Okay," Bentley vaguely heard him mutter. Rockie moved Bentley carefully, until his head came to rest on something that felt suspiciously like his shoulder, his arms looping around his back gently but tight enough to keep him from falling. "Okay. We'll just stay like this for a minute. That's cool."

Bentley managed to peel the hand that wasn't tangled in his jumpsuit away from his side and bring it loosely around Rockie in return, his eyes suddenly stinging like somebody had sprayed lemon juice in them.

"I wanna go home," He whispered, voice thick and sort of slurred from the strange half-conscious state he was in.

Rockie just sort of rubbed his back. "I'll get you home."

Bentley was conscious for just long enough to feel a couple of tears fall down his face, before the pain and the sound and the emotions all became one big blur of something, and he let the darkness take him away with open arms.

--

When Bentley came to, he was laying on the floor of the elevator, knees tucked up to his chest, his head situated carefully on Rockie's balled up sweatshirt.

"Hey,"

Bentley glanced up to his right, where Rockie was sitting, now only wearing a white t-shirt with his sweatpants. He looked different -- more tired, maybe? He was just sitting against the wall of the small elevator with one leg tucked, the other outstretched, looking at nothing in particular.

Bentley sat up and rubbed at his eyes, cringing at the weakness he could already feel taking hold of him, grimacing at the taste of bile that still lingered in his mouth. How long was he out? Had they moved at all?

Despite his questions, a small: "What?" was about all he could manage to say.

"You threw up," Rockie stated. "Then passed out. I think you might have a fever, too."

Bentley wasn't quite sure how Rockie would've checked his temperature without taking his gloves off, but he also didn't have the willpower to ask. He just hummed, sitting up and tightening his knees against this chest.

"We've been in here... probably another hour or two. If Charlie doesn't get the elevator up, I'm not sure we're going to make it in time," Rockie stated, still refusing to look over at Bentley, staring down at his hands instead.

Bentley didn't say anything. And then, for a second, his brain drifted off to something completely unrelated -- the fact that earlier, Rockie had been prying at the elevator doors like they were going to kill him.

"Rockie?"

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"If you don’t intend to insult me after, sure,"

Bentley blinked for a second. "Why were you so scared earlier? Of the elevator?"

Rockie sighed lightly, glancing down at his hands. Fiddling with his fingers.

“I…”

He heard Rockie exhale heavily. He thought at first that he wouldn't respond, and he didn't blame him. They weren't friends anymore, were they? Not-friends didn't tell each other stuff like that; they didn't answer those kinds of questions.

But finally:

"They started locking me in a six-by-six white room when I was eleven, trying to determine if my powers fluctuated based on... heightened emotions. Fear," He replied quietly, absentmindedly fiddling with his glove. "They locked me inside every day, for four hours. Three years straight. With her."

Bentley kept silent.

"It didn't even end up working," He mumbled. “My powers never changed. I guess the elevator just... reminded me of that room.”

Bentley didn’t say anything for a moment.

“But I���m fine. You deciding to puke your guts out distracted me,”

And suddenly, the elevator kicked back on, jostling them in the floor as it continued its ascent.

Bentley blinked, and Charlie’s voice came: “Finally!”

Rockie popped off the floor, wiping his hands on his pants. He turned to Bentley and held a gloved hand out to him. “Can you stand?”

“Yeah,” Bentley replied, reaching up and taking his hand. Rockie tugged him off of the floor and, after a second where he gathered his footing, he let go again. The world threatened to spin, but he blinked and shook his head and didn't let it.

“Are you sure you’re okay enough to-“

“Yes,” Bentley cut him off, despite the fact he felt mere moments from death. “I’m okay. Being passed out for a little while helped.”

“You shouldn’t have to be in a position where passing out helps,” Rockie exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He grabbed the keycard out of his sweatpants pocket and held it over to Bentley. Bentley was pretty sure he was supposed to have one on his person, but he didn't, and he wasn't sure where it went. “Here; just go back down and head out through the elevator we sent the others up in. I’ll take care of everything down here.”

“No,” Bentley was quick to reply, shaking his head lightly and looking back up at Rockie. “I’m not leaving.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open right in the midst of their conversation — immediately, both Bentley and Rockie all but threw themselves backwards, thudding against opposite walls on either side of the door so they were out of sight. The sudden and panicky movement made Bentley’s vision swim and headache rage even harder than it had been, and he wanted to groan about it, but he didn’t. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

“Stay still. Don’t move,” Charlie’s voice came.

Bentley caught Rockie’s eye, and mouthed: Don’t move.

Bentley saw Rockie’s fingers twitching as a pair of footsteps grew near to the elevator door. Bentley just pushed himself hard into the corner and kept his eyes laser focused on Rockie's green ones, hoping his gaze would pin him down just enough to keep him from moving. Just for a second.

A man in white armor stepped onto the elevator.

He stood idly in the threshold and glanced around, quickly. His armor looked like metal — Bentley hadn’t noticed that before. He had a huge black assault rifle in his white gloved hands, and a helmet that reminded him of a welding mask. 

The man looked around the small room, taking in every corner and crevice of white, nearly looking Bentley straight in the eye. He did a few passes of all the corners, his gaze not seeming to stick on him, or Rockie, not even on the sweatshirt sitting in the floor.

He huffed and stepped back out. Bentley heard the crackle of a walkie talkie coming to life. “They’re not here, boss.”

Rockie looked over at Bentley with this absolutely flabbergasted look on his face, and Bentley mouthed: “Charlie.”

With the shake of his head, Rockie reached over ever-so-slowly and pushed in the open door button, holding it down tightly.

“I’m keeping the Secret Keeper locked out of your minds, for now. She can’t see into them. Which means she can’t get your location,” Charlie said. “But she knows where you’re trying to go. So we’re taking a back way.”

Bentley merely nodded, even though she couldn't see him. 

“Go out of the elevator now. Immediately go right. There’s a guard, but I’ve got him,”

Bentley gestured for Rockie to follow and hurried out of the elevator, taking an immediate right. There was a guard there, the same one, back facing them, holding his gun tight in his hand. Almost like he was guarding the elevator, waiting for something suspicious.

Rockie wordlessly grabbed Bentley’s arms from behind in an attempt to pull him the other way, but Bentley merely shook his head, quietly wrenching him arms from his grip.

The guard fell.

Rockie paused and stared, and Bentley moved farther down the hall, past the guard. There was blood running from his nose, ears, and eyes. Bentley looked away with a grimace, taking a few more steps and glancing down the halls.

“There’s a-"

Chi-chink.

Bentley turned at the sound of an assault rifle being chambered behind him.

Much to his relief (and slight terror?) it was Rockie. He'd grabbed the guard’s giant assault rifle despite his metal gloves, and was now scouring his limp body... for ammunition, Bentley guessed.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, glancing anxiously down the hallways around them. "Someone might hear you. We need to go."

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Rockie muttered. He pulled something out of the man’s waistband and slid it across the floor to Bentley.

A pistol. An actual, real pistol. 

The thought of picking it up made his head spin.

A second later, the man’s keycard slid up beside it. And then a pistol magazine.

Bentley swallowed thickly. “Charlie’s gonna get us there in secret, Rockie... we don’t need-“

“I’m not going with you,”

Bentley furrowed his brows, his mouth going dry. “What?”

“You can listen to her if you want, but I don’t trust her. She’s part of the Secret Keeper,” He replied nonchalantly. “I’m going for Layla. The girls are drained in a separate room than the boys, so we aren’t going to the same place anyways.”

Bentley inhaled sharply. “But-”

“If she lies to you, the medical wing is at the very right end of the main hall with the siphoning rooms. It’s absolutely massive. The draining rooms have windows. You can’t miss them.”

“Please don’t leave,” Bentley mumbled, taking a step toward him as Rockie rose with the gun, putting a few full magazines in his sweatpants pockets. His hoodie had been long abandoned in the elevator.

“Bentley-”

“I don’t want to be alone,”

Rockie merely looked at him for a few moments. “Then come with me.”

“No! Bentley, you’ll die!” Charlie ordered frantically.

“No,” Bentley half-whispered. “If you go and try to shoot them all, you’ll... die.”

“If I’m going down, I want to take as many of these bastards with me as I can,” Rockie replied, turning on his heel, and heading for the main hall that was shining bright in Bentley's eyes. “Good luck, Bentley.”

“No, Rockie!” Bentley took a couple steps to follow him, but stopped short, a gnarly burn surfacing behind his eyes. “Charlie? Is… is he the one?”

Charlie resigned to silence.

And then, a few quiet moments later, after the burning had turned into watery eyes as had then turned into tears that fell down his face, Charlie whispered: “Don’t follow him.”

“Oh my God,”

Rockie disappeared around the corner.

“Bentley, focus. Don’t follow him. Keep going straight,”

“Was that the last time I’ll see-”

“Bentley, listen to me. There are guards coming. You have to move, now,” She ordered in his head. “You don’t have much time. Thirty minutes tops. This place has a filter and distribution system created for widespread use of sedatives integrated into the air conditioning, but the system was disabled years ago when they decided it would be a danger to personnel. The system goes through the entire facility, and the vents needed to be large enough for repairs throughout the whole thing. So the answer is, yes. You’re going to be crawling through the vents like a spy movie.”

Bentley said nothing, his mind still utterly stuck on the fact that Rockie was going to... die.

“Get the keycard and go into the next cell closest to you. Now!”

Bentley did as he was told, numbly heading to the next metal door, opening it, going inside, and closing it behind him. There was no one in it.

Rockie was already dead.

“I’ll tell you when it’s safe to leave,”

Bentley didn’t say anything, but just focused on keeping himself together, for Asten’s sake. What if Rockie didn’t make it to Layla? Would she die, too? Had they messed up somewhere? 

“Stop thinking about it, Bentley,” Charlie ordered. “The guard passed. Go now.”

Bentley forced himself up and tapped the keycard again, the doors sliding open. 

“Go back where you came from, near the elevator. There’s a mechanical room right next to it where you’ll have access to the vents,”

Bentley made his way back into the dark hall, the one with the elevator, scanning the walls for the doors she'd mentioned.

Suddenly, the loud, terror inducing, horrendous noise of several assault rifles plagued his ears from the main hall.

He stopped right after he'd passed the elevator, just short of the next door, the one he was meant to go in. The hall spun and he put his hand against the wall there to hold himself up, clinging tight to the keycard to keep from dropping it.

“Rockie…”

“Don’t go back for him, Bentley. Don’t,” Charlie ordered in his head, solemnly. “I’m… helping him where I can. Open the door, inside there will be lots of machines, and a vent large enough for you to fit inside.”

Bentley didn’t say anything. Instead, he kept his hand planted firmly against the wall and stayed exactly where he was, poorly fighting away a very sudden urge to vomit again.

“Bentley,”

He shook his head. “I don’t… feel good.”

“I know. I know. You can push through it. I know you can,”

Bentley exhaled heavily. He wanted Bruce. He wanted to go home. He didn’t want to be sick with a fever alone in the hallways of a facility where they were trying to kill his friends. He didn't want to listen to the gunshots that were probably tearing through Rockie's body, aiming to leave him nothing more than a lump on the floor. He wanted to go home.

He threw up on the facility's white floor instead.

By the time his stupid muscles stopped spasming and his stupid stomach stopped evicting everything from inside itself, he was crying, fully. Most of it was thanks to the fact that he'd probably just heard Rockie die, but there was a little bit of it, too, that came from how badly he wanted to go home, how terrible felt, how hopeless he was. How was he supposed to save everyone like this? Falling apart? Alone? Sick?

“I can’t do it,” He sobbed, his full weight still resting on the wall next to him. Tears were streaming down his face but he didn't see the point in wiping them off. “I can’t… I won’t make it in time.”

“You definitely won’t if you don’t try,” Charlie replied softly. “It’s not like you to give up. You can do it. You’re so close.”

Bentley exhaled, and then inhaled. He thought about Asten.

Without another word, he pushed himself on. To the next door, through it, and into a large room that had a bunch of machines, consoles, and a large air vent close to the floor.

He closed the door behind him and went over to it, ignoring everything else. It had a grate, but it wasn't screwed in like normal -- it was latched, and had hinges so it could be opened easily by workers.

He unlatched it and pulled it open, looking into the vents beyond.

There was maybe a six foot drop before the vent turned out of his sight. There were various pipes and tubes and ducting curling and swirling around in there, probably the systems Charlie had talked about.

With an exhale, he pushed himself inside.

—

He was in the vents for a good fifteen, twenty minutes. Thumping around like an elephant in heels, stopping occasionally to flinch at a myriad of gunshots he heard from above, to panic about Rockie until Charlie calmed him down enough to go on. He stopped once because he needed to throw up again. He was pretty sure he really was sick.

By the time Charlie told him he was ‘there’, he was pretty sure he was five seconds away from actually dying. But then he had to not, because he was there.

He had to climb up a maybe six foot span of vent that went straight up — much like the vent he’d come in. It wouldn’t have been so hard on a normal day, but today wasn’t a normal day, so it was hard. He managed to use the pipes and ducts for the whatever system organized around the vents to get him up there. And it was only when Charlie said ‘now’ that he managed to use every bit of remaining strength to kick the vent grate out.

He climbed out into a very, very white room. He couldn’t see all the way across it because there were privacy curtains everywhere, like the curtains in s hospital. But, from what he could see, it looked big. He’d come out in a spot that seemed like he was in a corner, surrounded by shelves full of medical supplies and boxes.

“Go out. Put the grate back as best you can,”

Bentley followed her orders, climbing fully into the room and grabbing the grate, propping it where it had once been in a bid to make it look normal. The alarms were still blaring, and he could hear people talking, footsteps pounding across the floor. He could hear the sound of nearby chaos — gunshots, hundreds of them somewhere outside the room.

“Bentley, the room is set up like stripes. There’s rows of medical beds surrounded by these privacy curtains that have kids in them. Right now, you’re in the corner directly across from the corner with the door,” Charlie explained. “You see that privacy curtain to your right?”

Bentley turned and looked at the large, bluish-green plastic curtain to his right, past a few shelves. “Yeah?”

“Go in it. Get in the bed. Grab the IV tube and hide it under the blanket near your arm. Now,”

With a sharp exhale, Bentley squeezed himself between two shelves and ducked under the plastic-ey curtains. There was a large, white stretcher on the other side, and a big, white machine with buttons, dials, and a few different long tubes sticking out of it.

Bentley all but tossed himself at the bed, squirming to get under the covers and grabbing the bundle of tubes from the machine, shoving them under the blanket and playing dead there.

As soon as he stopped moving, the curtain whipped open with a whoosh.

He held his breath and made his whole body still, trying his hardest not to actually pass out in the presence of a blanket and bed. He heard a few footsteps come into the tiny space, and then a hum. “Looks like someone forgot to start you up.”

There were a few beeps and a whir from the machine next to him, and he heard the person leave, the privacy curtain whooshing shut behind them.

There was a moment of silence that ensued before Charlie said: “Go.” 

Bentley shoved himself out of the hospital bed, fighting off a wave of vertigo from standing so fast that was dutifully accompanied by a wave of nausea. He swallowed all the sickness down and pushed himself through the curtain and back into the empty space between them.

“Go right. Then turn right again — there’s only one walkway up here against the wall, you can’t miss it,”

Bentley merely went, his legs pushing him along with more willpower than his actual brain. He turned right, met with a long walkway, the left side lined with privacy curtains, the right with the wall. There was a break in the curtains every dozen feet or so that indicated a row.

“Walk ten paces, then go into the privacy curtain on your immediate left,”

Bentley started down the hall, counted to ten steps. On nine, he saw someone turn into the walkway from one of the rows ahead of him, so he practically threw himself to the side and through the next curtain.

“Feet up!” Charlie shouted. 

The nearest thing Bentley could actually use to get his feet up was the hospital bed, but this one had a person in it. A boy he didn’t know, maybe eleven or twelve, with bright blonde hair and long eyelashes that reminded him of Dick. He was connected to several large whirring machines, and an IV tube was coming out from under his blanket, filled with something suspiciously crimson.

Sitting on the edge of the bed next to him just to get his own feet out of sight made Bentley feel a little sick again.

The person padded by without suspecting a thing.

“You can go now.”

Bentley climbed off the bed and turned back, looking at the boy. He whispered: “How do I shut them all down?” 

There was a moment of silence. “What? No, Bentley, you’re here for Asten.”

“No, I…” He glanced at the whirring machine. At the evil, evil machine. “I can’t let them all die. Just tell me how to shut them down.”

“Bentley-”

“Please! It’ll stop draining everyone and I’ll still be able to get him,” Bentley begged. “I can’t leave them, Charlie.”

“Hold on! Hold on, just let me think,”

A few moments of silence passed, and Bentley merely stood there.

“Okay,” Charlie finally breathed. “Okay. Okay. Listen to me. There’s a main pump that controls all the smaller pumps in here, carries all the blood to another room where it gets filtered and stuff. You’re going to cut power to that pump. But you only have five minutes.”

“Okay,”

“Go back in the vents. If you run now, you should be able to slip in unseen,”

Numbly, Bentley listened to her. He climbed back in the vent and went to the next room over, (a control room, she said.), where his job was to beat the absolute hell out of some control panel and rip wires out of it until it stopped making noise. So he did.

After that, she claimed that he’d done it. She said something, told him a number of how many kids he’d saved, but he didn’t hear it. He threw up again in that room.

He blindly followed her orders back to the medical room he’d been in, and switched from curtained area to curtained area, narrowly avoiding all of the scrambling doctors and scientists who were trying to figure out why everything had stopped working. He was numb, blank, and he didn’t feel much of anything until Charlie directed him into one of the privacy curtains — the fourth one on the seventh row.

And when he opened it, all the feelings and stuff he’d been trying to keep an arm's length away slammed back into place inside of him.

Because Asten was laying in the bed.

He was hooked up to all the same machines as everybody else, but his blood wasn’t moving through the tubes anymore. His chest was rising and falling; somewhat quickly, but it didn’t matter to Bentley, as long as it was. He looked almost as white as a sheet of paper, and his lips were slightly blue from the loss of blood. But he was there.

Bentley made a sound akin to a wheeze as every emotion he'd ever felt in his life washed over him. He wanted to cry and scream and smile and kill something and dance and all kinds of things that, when he felt them all at once, simply resulted in him standing there.

“Through the curtain to your left, Bentley, there’s a tray with a few syringes on it; it’s a reversal drug. It will wake him up from the anesthesia. You can do it, okay?”

With a few poor excuses of breaths, Bentley swiped open the curtain next to him, trying hard not to look at the teenage boy in the bed. He scoured the small space for syringes instead, and he found them, on a small cart next to the quiet machines.

He grabbed one, turned around, and jammed it into Asten’s arm.

It took a little bit — maybe two minutes or so? — before he groaned lightly, his green eyes fluttering slowly open.

“Asten,” Bentley whispered, heading to the other side of the bed and starting to pull all the needles and tubing out of his arm. Asten stirred more, probably at the pain, his green irises flicking around until they finally landed on Bentley’s face.

“B’ntley?”

“Asten,” He breathed, a sense of relief washing over him that nearly made him bawl again. Asten went about sitting up, but proved to be really weak, so Bentley had to help him by hiding his back off the mattress. As soon as he was sitting upright, Bentley hugged him as tight as he dared. 

“Bentley,” Asten continued. His arms came up very vaguely, and Bentley felt him grab onto his jumpsuit gently, his head lolling down onto his shoulder seemingly by itself. “M’ feel like shit.”

“Me, too,” Bentley muttered. “But we have to get out of here, okay? We have to get out of here. We have to leave.”

“You’ve created a distraction with the pump failure, and Rockie’s creating a massive diversion himself. If you go now, toward the exit that goes to your building, I can keep all the stragglers off of you. You’re home free.”

Bentley, as badly as he wanted to hold onto Asten and never let go ever, pulled away after a few seconds. “Can you stand?”

Asten didn’t say anything, but he did push himself off of the bed and onto the floor; which was immediately followed by the buckling of his weak knees and Bentley having to muster up strength enough to catch him himself. 

“I’ve got you, buddy,” Bentley mumbled, trying his damn hardest to bare Asten's weight with his weak body. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Asten merely whined: “Bentley.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” He continued, pulling one of Asten's arms around his shoulders in an attempt to keep him upright. "Just try to walk as best you can okay?"

"Okay..."

"All you have to focus on is getting out, I promise. I'll keep everything else away. All you have to do is walk," Charlie said in his head. "You're going to come out of his privacy curtain and go right, down the walkway -- then left. The door is there."

Bentley, with some sort of strength he had to be getting from a place he didn't even know of, pushed himself and Asten out of the makeshift hospital room and out into the walkways, following Charlie's directions as best he could. After the right and left turn, and a little bit of a walk, the door to the room was there -- it led back to the main hallway. The bright one, that led all the way back to his building.

One long hallway, and then they were out.

"Only focus on walking, Bentley," Charlie reminded. "You're done fighting. I've got you."

Bentley didn't do anything but obey her. He opened the door with the keycard and went out into the hall. The gunshots were still audible, but had faded further away, so much so that they sounded like something different. Or maybe that noise was his ears ringing.

With every single step, Bentley was pushing towards complete failure. He could feel his strength slipping away like someone had shot a hole in the tank -- everything that had been bearing down on him for the past month; the stress, the sickness, the lack of self-preservation, the fear, the neglect; it was all coming back to haunt him at the worst time in the worst way. Asten's life depended on him, and here he was, sick and weak and hardly able to think a coherent sentence through the absolute agony that he was embodying.

Still, somehow, he kept walking. He wasn't sure what it was that was pushing him on; determination, or willpower, or spite, or fear, or hope. He couldn't decide what feeling was most prominent in the tornado that was him. He merely focused on putting one foot in front of the other, and holding Asten up, for a long, long time.

Until they made it a mere ten yards from the stairs and exit, so close he could see it, so close he could practically feel the EM field begging to give him his power back...

Asten said something.

"B, I'm... about to pass out,"

And then he did.

It took every ounce of strength left inside of Bentley to keep him from hitting the floor when he fell. The second pair of legs that had been somewhat spurring him on turned into dead weight in a split second. Bentley managed to grab him under the arms and pull him off to the side -- into a small hallway, the last small hallway before they made it out.

"Asten," He mumbled as he laid him down on the floor. He was still pale as snow, and still breathing, but completely unconscious.

Bentley grabbed at his shoulders and touched him, tried to poke and prod him back into consciousness, fighting off a horrendous migraine and the urge to vomit. "Asten, we're almost out, come on. Please. We're almost done."

Cli-click.

"Get away from him. Hands up in the air,"

Bentley drew in a sudden breath and grew eerily still at the sound of a gun being chambered behind him.

"Now. Get up,"

He knew that voice. He knew it, and he'd known it would come back to haunt him.

Slowly, hands raised in the air, he stood up, leaving Asten's limp form on the floor -- a silent hope that he would be left alone.

Bentley looked up. Back into the bright main hallway.

And there stood Mr. Keene. His math teacher. Dr. Keene's little brother. With a big, shiny pistol, aimed right at Bentley's head, and big, amber eyes instead of grey-blue, visible behind big glasses.

He flicked the gun to the left. "Well? Come into the light. Don't make any sudden moves."

Bentley stepped gingerly back into the main hallway with his hands up near his head, keeping his eye trained on the barrel of the gun as it followed his every movement, puppeteered his direction. He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. His breaths were trying to force themselves in and out with a violence, but he didn't let them.

"Please," He mumbled. "Please. Just let us go."

"You destroyed my family. What are we supposed to do now? Let our legacy die because one kid couldn't follow the rules?" He asked; though Bentley realized it was probably her talking more than him. "I can't let you leave. Your story ends here, now, Bentley Whittaker."

"Bentley Wayne," He corrected. The gun was shaking in the man's hand, but stayed pointed at his head anyway, hovering probably eight or ten feet away from him.

"You ran from me, you cried because of me, you fought me, and you deceived me," The man mumbled, a look of relief, of contentment crossing his features. "And now... you'll die by my hand. It's the only ending. The only true way this story can end."

"Charlie-"

"THAT'S NOT MY NAME!" She roared through the man's mouth, the gun trembling vigorously in his hand. "I have no name. I am no one. I am everyones worst nightmare, and their perfect dream. And you, Bentley Wayne," He spat, she spat. "Are going... to sleep."

Bentley watched the barrel of the gun tremble as his grip tightened on the weapon, to pull the trigger, and-

Someone stepped in front of him.

"No,"

It was Asten.

"Get out of the way, boy," The man with the amber eyes ordered.

By the looks of it, Asten was having a hard enough time keeping himself up as it was. With his own head settling right between Bentley's and the barrel of the gun, his body begging to give out so badly Bentley could practically hear it. He was mere moments from collapse. They all knew. But even then, he didn't move.

Bentley stepped forward. "Asten, move."

"...No,"

"Asten,"

"No,"

"Get out of my way," The Secret Keeper growled through the man's mouth. "Or I'll shoot through both of you."

"Asten, move," Bentley ordered, his eyes burning, heart slamming around in his chest. "Asten, please, move."

"No,"

"Asten!"

"No,"

BANG!

Bentley and Asten and even the man with the gun flinched when the shot sounded, so loud and deafening it seemed to reverberate through the facility halls. Bentley's world spun, and his vision suddenly had dots swimming in it, though he didn't feel any pain.

Thump.

He forced his body to work. Forced his vision to return. Forced his brain to come back on.

The man with the gun was laying on the floor, the back of his head blown wide open, coating the white floor with crimson.

Red Hood was standing a few meters behind his corpse, pistol outstretched and smoking at the barrel.

"Jason," Bentley mumbled, taking a few steps forward in disbelief, settling just in front of Asten. "Asten, its Jason."

Chloe had done it.

They were going to be okay.

Bentley took another step toward the vigilante, but his socked foot nudged something that dinged across the white floor.

Bentley glanced down at it.

A bullet casing.

A gold bullet casing, right near his foot, rolling lazily across the floor from where he'd kicked it.

His eyes trailed to the dead man, from his exploded head to his hands, to the pistol on the floor a few feet from him, which had smoke slowly seeping from its barrel.

"...Bentley?"

Bentley turned around, his gaze catching on Asten's face. It was whiter than before; his green eyes were blown wide and glistening with something he couldn't place. His mouth was hung open in shock. His hands were hovering in the air near his torso, uncertainly, and-

There was a really, really large stain of crimson growing there.

Bentley's entire world came crashing down on his head as soon as he realized.

He lurched forward just in time to catch Asten before he hit the white tile, all but falling with him, keeping him from hitting the floor. He tried to make words but he couldn't; the only coherent noise that managed to escape him was a desperate scream:

"Jason!"

A mere second and the vigilante was by his side. Red Hood all but ripped his helmed off with a thunk, uncaring, tossing it to the side and letting it bounce across the floor with the sound of metal on tile.

"Talk to him," Jason ordered, his black and white hair frazzled and damp from the helmet, his face trained into neutrality even though Bentley knew him good enough to see the panic through it. "Talk to him, Bentley."

Bentley looked down at Asten. He was sort of laying across his lap, and Bentley had his head gathered in his hands, cradling it close to his chest, keeping him from looking down at the wound Jason was now putting pressure on. Jason spoke to someone, but it wasn't him. Did he have an earpiece in?

Asten kept taking quick, ragged breaths, and his hands, soaked with blood, came up to hold onto Bentley's arms that were around his head. "I guess..." He sort of gasped, sort of choked. "I guess that... plot armor isn't so thick a...anymore, huh?"

Bentley could feel the way his entire body seemed to be buzzing and trembling, and so he held his head higher to his own chest, brushing a couple of fingers across the hair near his forehead in a means of comfort. "It... It, it isn't... Its..."

"It's okay," Asten mumbled, his green eyes staying trained on Bentley's, his hands gripping harder at his arms. "It's okay. I'm okay, B, don't.. don't be scared. I'm okay."

Jason was talking. Bentley didn't hear it. Someone skidded into Bentley's view, a little ways down the hallway. A quick flinch and glance up revealed that it was Rockie, bloody and looking suddenly sick, with Layla wrapped tightly around one arm. His inhuman green eyes were scouring Asten's frame and when they met Bentley's, they were brimming with tears.

"It's okay," Asten continued to ramble shakily, grabbing and gripping at Bentley's arms sort of frantically, leaving blood everywhere. "It's okay. I'm okay."

His entire torso was red. Jason's hands were red. Bentley could see it in his peripheral.

"Asten..." Bentley said, vibrating from terror and adrenaline, unable to produce any real sentences. "Asten."

"It's okay. I'm okay. Don't look at it. It's okay," Asten continued to ramble, balling up Bentley's sleeves in his hands, keeping his eyes trained solely on Bentley's. For some reason, the corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile. A moment of silence passed.

"That's funny," He snickered quietly, his green eyes building with tears that fell over, down the sides of his face not a second later. "It... It doesn't hurt. Is Summer here?"

Bentley tried to ignore the fact that the entire right side of his peripheral vision was red. "Jason is," Bentley gritted out.

"Jason," Asten seemed to snap into reality a little bit more at the realization, and he tried to look down at Jason, at his torso, but Bentley's grip around his neck and head wouldn't let him. "Jason."

"I'm right here," Jason said. It sounded well-trained and vigilante like, but it wobbled at the end, and Bentley caught it.

"Jason," Asten seemed to relax his struggling to look for him, instead, just turning his gaze back up into Bentley's eyes. "Jason. I'm scared."

"It's going to be alright, okay? Just keep talking to us," Jason ordered.

"Jason. I'm scared," He repeated. "Is it... dark? I don't like the dark."

"Asten-"

"What is it like?" He asked, though his eyes were trained solely on Bentley's. "Is it dark?"

"Don't be afraid," Jason continued. Bentley realized that he'd stopped moving so much. Not a few seconds later he was on the opposite side of Asten, leaning forward so Asten could see his face. Why wasn't he tending to the wound anymore? "It's just like falling asleep."

Asten blinked, a few more tears falling down the sides of his face. "I don't wanna fall asleep."

He reached numbly for Jason with bloody hands until Jason peeled his crimson gloves off and grabbed them, holding them tightly so the three of them were just a tangle of arms with Asten's head in the middle.

"There's... something you need to tell Bruce," Asten said, his eyes flicking over to Jason, then back to Bentley. "You... you have to tell him I changed my mind, okay? He asked me, but... but I told him no, I don't... I don't know why I did that..."

"What is it, buddy?" Jason asked softly. "What do you want us to tell him?"

"That I changed my mind," Asten suddenly coughed, a little bit of blood splattering from his lips onto his chin. "That I do want... I do want to be..."

He gasped strangely, and an unidentifiable expression crossed his features.

"That you want to be what?" Jason pressed.

Asten looked over at him, and smiled slightly, with crimson stained teeth. A few more tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. "A Wayne."

Jason choked.

Jason choking was the last thing Bentley heard before Asten's arms, tangled up in both of theirs, went slack, and he went completely limp in his grip.

Silence ensued.

"Asten," Bentley muttered, cradling his head closer to his chest, lifting it up, higher. "Asten."

Asten's eyes were looking at nothing.

"Asten," Bentley tried again, softly, holding tight to him and blinking. He looked down at him and brushed his hair away again with a few fingers. "Asten."

Asten never moved.

Bentley stopped saying his name. Instead, he just pulled him closer, and Jason held his hands, and Bentley let his own head fall until his face was hidden in his black and blue hair.

And he didn't move.

Asten Evans...

was dead.

--

HOLY SHIT

tag list that KINDA works

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy @bookwarm0-0

@custommadeazula

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: gore?

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS !!!!! this chapter is absolutely gargantuan

part forty-six

❝ SUICIDE RESCUE MISSION ❞

WEDNESDAY — OCTOBER 19 — 6:19PM

HIS ROOMMATES WERE MISSING, AND BENTLEY COULDN’T BREATHE.

He’d gone in every bedroom searching for a phone, or a laptop, or anything he could use to call Bruce, but there wasn’t a single electronic left. It was all gone, vanished, alongside his friends. Even the wall phone had been smashed into an unusable heap.

He checked every room a second time, and even a third, but nothing, and no one, ever showed. 

Of course this would happen when he’d just finished being woefully sick. He didn’t even have the brain power to make coherent thoughts without having to think for a while first. He didn't know what time it was, or what day it was -- How was he supposed to find them by himself? Was it the Secret Keeper? He didn’t know where they’d gone, who’d taken them, if they were okay. His eyes flicked back to the blood streaking the floor. There was a lot of it. What if they were dying?

Bentley didn’t really realize he was having another anxiety attack until he had to sit himself down on the floor to keep his legs from giving out under him. He couldn’t breathe — his inhales and exhales were so ragged he could hardly cry correctly, and his whole body was trembling like a leaf.

What if one of them was already dead? What if they were being tortured? What if they were all already dead? And why was it always him left when shit like this happened?

Bentley…

He glanced up when that same sort of pulling feeling tugged at his chest, sobbing softly and bringing hand up to wipe at his eyes. When he opened them, he was in a solid white abyss.

Someone grabbed his shoulder from behind with a soft: “Bentley...”

He didn’t move, and he squeezed his eyes shut, tucking his arms around his head. He didn’t want to see her. He couldn’t face her like this. He couldn’t survive her.

“Hey, look at me,” He felt, heard her round on him, coming to a slow stop in front. “Open your eyes, Bentley.”

He had a pulling feeling that nagged at him, forced him to reluctantly do so. And it took him a solid thirty seconds to comprehend that it wasn’t the Secret Keeper’s yellow and black attire standing ahead of him, but a purple dress. Her hair wasn’t platinum, but a warm blonde, and her eyes were blue, not amber. There were scars and cuts on her face from a muzzle that had been removed. There were tears in her eyes.

“Charlie?” He whispered.

“Don’t say my name. She’ll hear you,” She whispered frantically, kneeling down ahead of him so she was similar to his height. Her other hand found his other shoulder and she squeezed them both. “You have to go, now. I kept you from getting taken, but I can’t keep her from finding out for long.”

Bentley blinked at her. The nagging, pulling feeling that had dragged him out of their dorm earlier was… Charlie?

Bentley breathed in. “H… how do you… how can you do that?”

Charlie glanced around as though she were waiting for someone else to appear, to attack. “I wish I could explain it to you now, but I can’t. We don’t have time. As soon as they realize they have the other ones but not you, they’re going to come. You have to go. I’ll show you the way… but you have to do exactly what I say exactly when I say it. Okay?”

Bentley sniffled lightly. “How do I know you’re not just her? Tricking me?”

Charlie let out a breath, a sort of sadness surfacing in her eyes. “I guess… you don’t…” She muttered, glancing down at the white floor. “But… you want to get to them, right? Right now, I’m the only shot you have. I’ll show you that you can trust me.”

Bentley breathed in, sniffing deeply, bringing his arms up around himself. “Why… are you helping me?”

Charlie looked at him sadly. “Because all of this is my fault.”

He didn’t say anything.

Charlie squeezed his shoulders. “I have to let you out of here before she hears us. Just, please — give me a shot, okay?”

The next time Bentley blinked, he was back in the dorm, and he was alone.

He exhaled shakily, blinking and glancing around the room. Everything was the same as it had been — broken, shoved around, and bloody.

“Can you hear me, Bentley?” Charlie’s voice came into his head as a whisper, hardly audible over the whooshing of the water in the pipes that was still assaulting his ears.

He blinked once, twice, sniffing lightly. “Yes.”

“You have to do exactly what I tell you, okay? First, you have to go to the lobby of your building. Stay quiet, and don’t be seen. Not even by other students. You ready? We don’t have much time.” 

Bentley, with a few deep breaths, pulled himself off of the floor and went out the door without looking back. 

In the heat of the moment, he didn’t even think to check if there were any heartbeats left inside the dorm.

— 

Bentley made it to the lobby of their building by creeping down the six flights of stairs at an absolutely glacial pace, listening to the voice of a psychotic killer’s alter ego inside of his head.

(Maybe he’d wake up and learn this was all a terrible fever dream. It sounded pretty much like one.)

“They have entrances everywhere, so they can get students into the facility from every building without being seen,” Charlie said in his head, once he made it to the bottom of the stairs and through the door into the lobby. It was large, and empty, and fancy, as always. He took a few tentative steps forward, eyes lingering on the big glass doors that lined the front of the building. The sunset was shining through them, so it had to be, like, six, right? “There are EM fields as soon as you enter the facility. Same thing that was on Titus Lancaster’s cell in my dad’s old place so he couldn’t teleport out. You won’t be able to use your powers inside.”

Bentley moved close to the walls, past a few vending machines, as if that would help him stay hidden in a wide open room. “How am I supposed to get them out if I can’t…”

“I’ll help you,” Charlie whispered. “Go to the piano on the other end of the room. You’re gonna open the top of it like you’re cleaning it out.”

Bentley glanced across the lobby, his gaze coming to rest on the white grand piano that reminded him of Asten’s in Brazil — the one he’d heard stories about. 

“So the whole school, it’s… bad?” Bentley whispered, moving quickly toward the piano. He pressed his palms under the lip of the lid and pushed with all his might. When he got it high enough, a few braces unfolded to hold it in place.  

“No,” Charlie muttered. “It wasn’t. Look down into the piano. See those screws around the edges? Fourth one from the right. Push it.”

Bentley peered down into the piano, his eyes flicking across the strings and intricate woodwork until he found decorative screws lining the side closest to him, holding everything down. He found the fourth one from the right and pressed it, and it sank down into the piano with a quiet noise.

Something behind him clicked.

He flinched so hard passersby might’ve thought he was shot, whipping around as though he could actually do anything should a person sneak up on him.

Behind the piano, on the wall — one of the wainscoting panels had popped ever-so-slightly out of place, and a crack of bright light was visible between the panels that hadn’t been before.

Bentley cringed. “Tell me that isn’t-“

“A secret door, yes. The hallway beyond is clear. Go now. There’s going to be a flight of stairs, and at the bottom, you need to take an immediate right, just to duck out of sight,” 

Bentley shook his head lightly. Was he really going to risk it? Following the sort-of-Secret-Keeper’s voice into a creepy trapdoor in the lobby of his school building? He glanced at the front door again. Maybe he should go find a phone. Call Bruce.

“Bentley, this is time sensitive. One of your roommates is four minutes and eighteen seconds from being taken to their death,” Charlie continued. “You have to go. Now!”

Bentley blinked, then exhaled and shook his head, hurrying over to the wainscoting and tugging it open slowly. Beyond was a solid white set of stairs, with blindingly white lights and hallways past.

He shook his head again, some sudden kind of burn surfacing behind his eyes. What if this was all a ploy to get him down there without having to go take him, like they’d taken the others? Being lured in like a defenseless animal. He just wanted his dad…

“Bentley. Why are you crying?”

He brought one hand up and scrubbed at his fiercely watering eyes. “Please don’t kill me. I just want to save them,” He half begged, glancing at the white stairs. “Please… I just want to go home.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Bentley, I know you’re scared, and I know this is psychotic and crazy and sudden, but... but I swear I’ll do everything I can to protect you. All of you! In order to do that, though, I need you to move, now,” Charlie ordered, the final word holding such authority that the nagging feeling returned for a few seconds. “Three minutes and fifty-nine seconds.”

Well, what the hell? Screw it!

Bentley, with a choked sound that he bit back and a burn in his eyes he forced away, ducked into the trapdoor.

Silence. Complete silence, apart from very distant white noise coming from somewhere deep within the facility. He turned back and grabbed the lip of the door, tugging it closed softly.

As soon as the exit was shut, a sudden wave of weakness washed over him — like he was being siphoned off strength he hadn’t even had to begin with. The world seemed to spin and teeter on its axis, and he stumbled, rather ungracefully, into one of the white walls. Had she tricked him? Already?

“It’s okay, it’s alright! It’s just the EM stifling your powers. You’re okay,” Charlie all but rambled in his head, and she really sounded like she might’ve cared, if she weren’t the other half of someone who’d tried to kill him several times.

He was so close to falling unconscious right then that he didn’t think much about it.

“Hey! Don’t you dare faint right now!” She demanded. “Just breathe, it'll pass.”

Bentley didn’t say anything, but blinked rapidly, waiting for his vision to stop doubling, for his hearing to clear. The white swam and moved around him for what felt like an eternity if vertigo before it slowly settled back into place.

"There you go... see?" Charlie questioned. “Remember, duck into the right hall at the bottom of the staircase. It’s very low traffic.”

Bentley, with an exhale and shake of his head, pushed himself unsteadily down the stairs. A long, bright, white hall came into view, lined with doors and windows and other hallways that branched off and led in varying directions. He didn’t see anyone in the hall, only a cart parked outside of a door and a few randomly placed boxes, but he ducked right anyhow, into a narrower offshoot hall with less doors and lower light, pressing himself tight against the wall.

“Good,” Charlie chided. “Okay. Look out into the main hall — there’s another hall branching off from the left side, a few doors up from where you are now. You’re going to cross and duck in there on my queue. Don’t hesitate,” Bentley peered out beyond the wall he was against for a split second, glancing at a few doors that sat across from him, eyes traveling across the wall until he spotted the hall she was talking about. “Go now.”

He did just as she said, ducking low and running across the bright, main hallway into another, darker one.

“Okay, now you’re going to go down this hallway, take a right, and then pass two more hallways before you turn right again. It’ll lead you back to the main hall, but much further up, past the labs, which have windows and the most staff inside. It wouldn’t go well if you were seen going past one,”

How much time to we have? Bentley forced himself to think, as he crept down the hall and came to an intersection, glancing to the left and right. When it all came back empty, he went right.

“Two minutes fifty-six seconds,” She replied. “The EM had you out of commission for longer than I expected…”

What?!

He pressed on faster, passing one hallway, then another, then pushing himself against the wall at the next one. He peered around the corner into it -- empty, apart from a metal cart holding empty food trays that was sitting abandoned at the opposite end. With an exhale, he pushed off, hurrying forward as close to the wall as he could before he could settle, crouched behind the cart.

His heart was absolutely slamming out of his chest. Last time he was in a facility like this, he got shot. People died. Lots of them.

Charlie didn't let him think about it for long, because she started talking again.

“The cell door is directly across from you, but it takes a keycard to enter, which means you’ll be waiting to see a guy in a lab coat walk up,” She started. “Listen… I would mind control him for you, but the only reason she isn’t noticing me using her power to speak to you is because she has over five hundred people under her influence and her head is pretty full. You’re gonna have to take this guy down yourself,”

Charlie! Bentley thought in alarm. I can’t take a guy down — just walking in here nearly killed me!

“You’re gonna have to, Bentley. That man is coming to take your roommate to the sector in this facility where they… kill them,”

Bentley exhaled heavily, running a stressed hand through his hair. 

Which one is it? He thought. Which roommate?

Charlie was quiet for a second.

And then: “Varian.”

Bentley didn’t say anything, but gripped the edges of the cart he was hiding behind, hard. What do they want us for? Why are they doing this to us?

“The blood and DNA of a metahuman, when chemically altered, can grant unnaturally long life and health to whoever it’s injected into. My father wanted to be the hero that made humans live forever. That’s why he turned people into metahumans — for an infinite supply. And now, The Secret Keeper is carrying out his plan by… draining them of all their blood, and manufacturing it into a serum. What better place to get an endless supply than a place where people funnel their metahuman children and leave them there for the whole year?” Charlie explained.

Why can’t you just make The Secret Keeper stop?! She’s inside your body!

“My body is still under the influence of my father’s mind control — he has a chip in his head, and one in mine, right at the base of my skull. The last order he ever gave to her was to finish what he started however necessary. So she is. And I can’t overpower her will,” 

Bentley blinked. But you’re overpowering her will right-

“He’s coming,”

Bentley’s mind immediately blanked, and he glanced around the empty hallway. A set of footsteps started tap-tapping in his ears. Far off, from the main hallway, echoing from the left. How the hell was he supposed to incapacitate a full-grown man when he was having a hard enough time keeping his own body in check? There wasn’t even anything there for him to use!

“There he comes,”

On Charlie’s queue, a man in a long white lab coat entered Bentley's line of sight, walking up to the door across the hall. He had a few books in his hand, thick ones, like novels. He dipped his right hand into his coat pocket and dug around in it.

“Bentley, go now!”

With one last panic induced glance around, the only thing he came up with that was even near his vicinity was the metal card of food trays.

The man drew his keycard from his pocket and began to lift it.

With a shake of his head at how terrible of an idea this was, Bentley grabbed the cart and took off running as hard as he could, only letting go when it was a mere few inches from the man’s legs to jump out of the way.

The cart slammed into the lab-coat guy’s legs and sent him tumbling backwards, feet all the way in the air as he fell over the cart and landed on his back all folded over. Trays and books and his keycard all went flying, and one of said books landed very close to Bentley’s feet.

He picked it up rather quickly, and on impulse, took a few steps toward the man and just slammed the massive novel down on his face one, two, three times.

By the time he was confident enough to stop, there was blood pouring out of the man’s nose, coating the spine of the book and a little bit splattered on Bentley’s hands, too.

He dropped the novel with a thud, silently staring at the unconscious man for a few moments.

Shit.

“Don’t get in your head about it. Open the door,” Charlie insisted. Bentley shook his head and forced himself to keep going, stepping over the man and grabbing the small keycard that had skidded a few feet across the white floor.

“Quickly.”

Bentley jogged up to the door. It had the same little screen next to it that was in the old lab Bentley was synchronized in, or whatever. He tapped the card against it, it turned green, and the door hissed open, revealing a solid white, bright room.

Sitting inside, chained by two shackles anchored to the floor on opposite ends of the area, was Varian. The chains were pulled to their max to keep him from moving from the middle of the room, so he was just sat there with his knees pulled up and head down. He was wearing a solid white jumpsuit. Bentley could see blood splattered in a few various places; the neckline, the wrists. He had bruises peppered across his face, and Bentley could’ve swore there was blood in his blonde hair, too.

“Varian!” 

His head snapped up at his name, his brown eyes coming to rest on Bentley as the redhead skidded to a stop next to him, kneeling down to his level.

“Hey, Var,” Bentley looked down at the chains and cringed. How was he going to break chains? “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

It seemed like it took a few moments for Varian to comprehend what was going on, but when he did, he got this look of utter shock and fear and... also of relief on his face. He moved onto his knees and grabbed the sleeve of Bentley’s hoodie, and Bentley wasn't quite sure what was going on until Varian tugged him forward and wrapped his arms around him.

Bentley exhaled, stunned slightly. Why did it feel like it had been a year and a half since he touched anybody? Talked to anybody? He gently brought his arms up and around him, too, bunching up the back of the white jumpsuit in his hands. He felt Varian dig his head into his shoulder. Neither of them said anything, but he didn't miss the way Varian trembled slightly, or the way the shoulder of his hoodie got ever-so-slightly dampened, so Bentley just let his head fall down into his shoulder as a measly form of comfort.

And it felt really good. And he was suddenly reminded how utterly exhausted he was, and made very aware of how easy it would be for him to pass flat out, right then and there, with Varian's warm arms synched tight around his neck.

“Bentley, you have to go, now,” Charlie’s voice came. It was softer now, like she felt bad for interrupting. “The panel on the wall removes the shackles — the same keycard should work.”

With a cringe of pity, Bentley pulled himself away from Varian, something inside of him writhing at the loss of contact. Instead, he rested his hands on Varian's shoulders and squeezed them lightly. “We have to go, okay?”

Varian looked at him through watery, red-rimmed brown eyes, eyes that were dull and different in so many ways than normal, and nodded. Bentley had to choose not to pay attention to the wetness around his eyes. 

Bentley pushed himself begrudgingly out of the floor and glanced around the solid white room, eyes coming to rest on two screen-panels next to the door. One looked just like the one on the outside, most likely to close the door from the inside, and the second was smaller.

Bentley made his way to the smaller one and tapped the keycard on it, and with a loud clack, the shackles opened and fell off of Varian’s wrists. He immediately brought his hands up to wipe at his eyes, inhaling shakily.

“Where is everybody else? Where are we? What happened?” He asked, his voice soft, shaky, his Russian accent much more prominent than it typically was. Bentley didn't take that as a good sign.

Bentley creased his brow. “You don’t remember?”

Varian blinked a few times, trying to rid his brown eyes of tears, but also maybe trying to remember? “I remember being sick again. And someone came into the dorm, but I was barely awake… and then I was here, and there were people, and they…” Varian paused when it got difficult to talk through the lump in his throat, sniffing lightly.

Bentley made his way back over and offered Varian his hands, which he stared at for a moment before taking. Bentley tugged him out of the floor and onto his feet only for him to stumble alarmingly to the side. With a quick, panic-induced exclamation of: "Varian!" And the single quickest reflex Bentley had had in over a week, he grabbed Varian in what could only be described as some kind of bear hug to keep him upright.

“I don’t feel very good,” He muttered into Bentley's shoulder. He reached for the little machine that would typically be on his arm, but it wasn’t there. What kind of sick assholes would remove that?

“Bentley, you are running out of time,”

Bentley ran a stressed hand over his hair. What do I do with him, Charlie?

"He has to come with you. You don't have time to take him anywhere else,"

"Okay," Bentley muttered, mostly to himself, rubbing Varian's arm a little. “Okay. Alright. Varian? We've been kidnapped, and we have to go find everybody else, okay? All you have to do is walk. You think you can walk?”

Varian sniffled against Bentley's hoodie. "Ya khochu poyti domoy." (I want to go home.)

Bentley didn't say anything, but he didn't have to -- Varian forced himself out of Bentley's grip, swaying slightly to one side and wiping at his nose. "I can walk... I have to."

The rapid blanching of his face didn't really convince Bentley as much.

“You’re going to go across the hall, back into the darker one where you came from. Go, now,” Charlie ordered. 

Bentley grabbed ahold of Varian’s jumpsuit sleeve. “Okay, let's go. You got it, Var?”

Varian just let Bentley tug him out the door and into the bright white hall. He glanced around like he hadn’t even seen it before, his eyes lingering on the scientist who was still sprawled on the floor, unmoved, surrounded by trays and books and blood. Bentley heard him audibly gulp, and then he asked softly: “Is he dead?”

“No,” Bentley replied, tugging Varian into the darker hallway he’d come out of, out of sight from the main hall. “I hope…”

“Go to the end, take a right, and then another right at the next hall. It’ll take you right back to the main one again.” 

Bentley followed Charlie’s orders and went to the end of the dark hall, then turned right, glancing back nearly every five milliseconds to check up on Varian. He seemed to be doing okay, even keeping up, but the amount of color that wasn't in his face and far-off look in his eyes had Bentley assuming it wouldn't stay that way for long.

“Do you know where to go?” Varian asked, and Bentley merely nodded. “How?” He continued.

“I’m getting help. From a… telepath,” He replied vaguely. Glancing into the next hall, he took a right turn into it, and he could see the doors in the bright main hall again.

“Your next door is directly to the left of the hall when you come out. Valor. But you have to be fast — they’re on the way to his room right now, which means you need to be completely gone in exactly a minute and six seconds." Charlie urged, and Bentley settled with Varian at the end of the hall, against the wall. "Go… now!”

With a muted grunt and Varian's sleeve held tight in his grip, Bentley pushed himself off and took a sharp left turn into the main hall, spotting the next door only a few feet away. He quickly tapped the keycard on the panel, prompting the door to hiss open.

As soon as Bentley stepped inside, he exhaled at the sight. Valor was shut in a white box like every other room in the place. He was chained and in a jumpsuit just like Varian was, laying in the floor and facing away from them, trembling slightly. His wings were pinched together and strapped down against his back by what looked like thick metal wire. It was tight, and seemed to be digging in.

But seeing his friend all strung up wasn't the worst part -- the worst part was that, in a room full of solid white, there was a whole lot of red.

The white floor was splattered and coated with blood that was pouring from Valor's wings where the wires were cutting into them -- all of his platinum feathers were stained a deep crimson, and the liquid had been smeared and moved across the floor all over the middle of the room. There was more blood, too, less a smear and more a puddle, in the floor near the door. And splattered on the wall. And the door. Were those bloody handprints on the white walls? Why were there so many droplets of blood near the door?

Bentley forced himself not to focus on it and tapped the keycard against the little panel that released the shackles. He’d seen this moment before; Valor on the floor. Where had he seen this before?

Shaking the thought from his mind, he jogged over to Valor and rounded him so he could see his face — it was battered and bruised way more than he’d hoped, and there were streaks of blood streaming from his nose and also from a cut on his left temple. He seemed… unconscious, but not all the way — he had tears streaming down his face, and he kept shaking and jerking like he was having a bad dream.

“He nearly killed two guards in the dorm, and another when he woke up down here, so the Secret Keeper took it upon herself to keep him down. I can do a little bit on my end to get her out of his head, but you’re going to have to snap him out of it,” Charlie explained. “Once her hold over him is broken, she’s going to feel it, Bentley. She’ll know what you’re doing. You’ll have to be fast and listen to me if you guys want a chance to make it out of here.”

Shit.

Okay, Bentley thought, crouching down next to Valor. Let’s do it, then.

It wasn't like he had much of a choice unless he wanted to get kidnapped again.

With a soft sigh, he reached down and gently touched Valor’s shoulder, rubbing it slightly. “Valor, wake up.”

"Oh, come on. You'll have to try harder than that," Charlie mocked. Varian settled on his knees on the opposite side of Valor, fiddling with the wire that was synched around his wings in a feeble attempt to remove it. With the shakiness of his hands and unsureness of his movements, though, Bentley knew it wouldn't be of much use.

“Valor, listen to me,” Bentley tried with an exhale, shaking and rubbing his shoulder. “Whatever you’re seeing isn’t real, it’s fake. It’s just a lie. You have to wake up.”

“Bentley, I can’t use my powers,” Varian said suddenly. When Bentley glanced up at him, he was looking at his (now bloody) hands like one of them had been chopped off. He took note of the color of Varian's face, which was still turning more white, if that were even possible. Which it shouldn't have been.

“This place stifles them — none of us can,” He replied, continuously shaking Valor gently. “Valor, I know you can hear me, wake up!”

“No,” Valor murmured to himself, squirming on the floor, squeezing his eyes closed tighter and forcing tears to fall down the sides of his face. “Enzo… get off. No… Get off.”

Bentley wasn’t sure who Enzo was, but with the way Valor was acting, even unconscious, he decided he didn’t like him very much.

“He's almost there, almost out,” Charlie’s voice came. Her words were followed by a few choked sobs from Valor. "I'll try to force her out of his head!"

Before Bentley could even think about replying, Valor suddenly jackknifed himself upward, nearly slamming his head directly into Bentley’s with enough force to knock them both out. His grey eyes were blown wide and brimming with wetness — something Bentley truly never thought he’d see.

“Hey! Valor, hey, Valor, it’s okay,” Bentley stammered, holding his arms out toward him as though he were some sort of wild animal. “It’s okay. It wasn’t real — whatever you were seeing.”

“She knows,” Charlie’s voice came. “Thirty seconds, Bentley, to get out of that room!”

“Bentley?” Valor questioned, his gaze flicking between him and Varian. He was quick to swipe the tears out of his eyes at the sudden appearance of his younger counterparts, glancing around the room with an immensely confused look on his face, trying to gather his bearings. “What‘s going on?”

“Everyone was kidnapped, taken — we have to go, now. Someone’s coming,” Bentley urged, pulling himself to his feet and holding out his hands to him. “I know it’s a lot, but we don’t have much time. We have to get out of here.”

With that, Valor pushed himself onto his fee with Bentley's help, albeit a bit shakily. He still seemed to be trembling from whatever he’d been seeing. He winced at the wire on his wings — blood was still leaking from them at a freakishly steady pace.

“Varian,” Valor greeted through clenched teeth, eyes coming to rest on Varian as the smaller boy pushed himself out of the floor again, swaying slightly, just like he had earlier. Valor reached for him on instinct, though he stopped short when he managed to find his own balance. “You look like shit.”

Varian blinked a couple times, then gestured forward to Valor. “So do you.”

“Thanks,” Bentley saw the very obvious pain splay across Valor’s features when he pushed against the wire with his wings, trying to break it, he guessed. The only thing that seemed to change was the amount of blood hitting the floor — which increased a lot.

“Stop,” Bentley suddenly said, stepping forward in alarm, cringing at all the blood. “Our powers are stifled in here, you won’t be strong enough to break it.”

Valor promptly stopped with a pained grunt; and an unreadable expression filtered across his face. “Shit. No, we have to get it off.”

“We can’t!” Bentley replied, making his way back over to the door, peering out into the hallway. It was bright and empty, and the man he’d knocked out was still laying a few doors up the hall, unmoved. “We have to go.”

“No, Bentley, you have to help me get this off,” Bentley turned back around, and Valor was turned the other way now, trying and failing to reach the wire around his wings with bloody hands. “Please. I can’t have my wings tied up. Please.”

“Ten seconds!”

“I’ll try and help you, Valor, but we have to get out of here first. Someone’s coming,” Bentley replied. “We have to leave right now. Like, literally, right now. Come on. You got it, Var?”

Varian nodded even though he looked like a literal zombie.

Bentley peered out the door again, and he felt Varian come and settle behind him, grabbing onto his sleeve, this time. As quickly as they’d gone in, Bentley went out and rounded back into the dark hallway, Valor and Varian both on his heels. They went to the end of the dark hall and made a right turn so they weren’t visible from the main one anymore.

Bentley, with an exhale, turned to Valor, and Varian released his arm. “Okay, let me try.”

He didn’t actually think he’d be able to break the wire, and the dark hallway was completely empty and devoid of anything he could use to do so. He just ended up pulling and jerking on it to no avail, wasting time. He did try, because he told Valor he would, but raw strength, especially given the state of his body, was definitely not going to be enough. “I can’t, Valor.”

“Fuck,” Valor hissed, raking his bloody hands through his dirty blonde hair in a stressed, anxious sort of way that Bentley had never seen from him before. “Bentley, I can’t have these on me, I can’t-”

“Five minutes and thirty-two seconds to the next roommate. You’re gonna have to do a little more traveling for this one,” Charlie’s voice came, and Bentley turned, glancing into the empty hall.

Who is it? Bentley thought.

“Asten,”

“Bentley,” Valor pleaded, and he turned back around to face him. His gray eyes were welled up with tears again, which caught Bentley off-guard, and he looked… afraid. “Please get them off.”

“His wings were tied during the most traumatizing parts of his life,” Charlie oh-so-helpfully added, which definitely made Bentley feel way better about not being able to get the wires off. “It’s what she was making him relive over and over.”

Bentley exhaled, frowning as a wave of pity streaked through his chest. (He knew he didn’t like Enzo, but he wasn’t aware he was responsible for the most traumatizing things Valor had ever been through.) “We’ll have to wait until we find something to cut the wire with,” He started, running a stressed hand through his hair, too, locking eyes with Valor. “As soon as we do, I’ll get it off, okay? I promise.”

Valor didn’t say anything for a moment, but he blinked. The tears fell down his face at the action, so he looked away and wiped them off with a quiet: “Okay...”

“Varian,” Came Charlie’s voice.

Varian. Bentley glanced at him where he'd settled in the hall to his right just in time to see him sway dangerously.

Following Bentley’s concerned look, Valor lunged forward just in time to reach out and catch Varian before he hit the floor, completely and utterly unconscious. As expected

“His blood sugar is in the forties again,” Charlie said, and Bentley promptly remembered that was the number of his blood sugar the day he threw up on the sidewalk outside of the history building.

Bentley exhaled heavily, watching Valor lower Varian to the floor, obviously unaccustomed to the weight due to the loss of his super-strength.

“Shit. Shit! How the hell are we supposed to do this?!” Bentley murmured, lacing his hands in his hair and fighting back a burn behind his eyes. He was so tired and so overwhelmed, why was it always him? Why did he have to do all of this? He felt the telltale little signs of another attack coming on, which he did not have time for, which only made him more anxious, and-

"Snap out of it, Bentley! Asten's life literally balances on your speed right now!" Charlie ordered. Bentley forced a few deep breaths into his lungs and glanced at Valor, who was covered in blood, and then at Varian, who was unconscious and so white he nearly blended in with the floor.

Should I just leave them?

“No!” Charlie was quick to reply. “Valor’s leaving a blood trail, they’ll find them no matter where they go. They have to go with you.”

“Just go, we’ll be fine,” Valor started, completely opposing Charlie's advice, pushing Varian’s hair back off of his forehead in a very Bruce-like way that made Bentley's heart clench so bad he kinda wanted to throw up. He wanted to go home so bad.

“No, they’ll find you,” Bentley replied, swallowing thickly and dragging a hand across his face. He took a moment to put his other hand on the wall, letting it take his weight for a second. “You’re leaving a blood trail. We can’t risk you getting taken again.”

Valor glanced back at him. “I can fight off a few scientists.”

Bentley sighed heavily, shaking his head. “No, Valor. Look — there’s a telepath, in my head, telling me where to go and what to do. She said you guys have to come with me. She can see the future.”

“That was a very tame explanation of me,”

Valor pinched his brows at him. “A telepath who can see the future? Was she a student here?”

“Four minutes and forty-nine seconds,”

“No, she… uh…” Bentley trailed off, shaking his head. “We don’t have time, Valor. I’ll tell you all about it later, but right now, we have four minutes and forty-five seconds to get to Asten before he dies.”

“What?!” Valor squeaked, turning back to Varian's limp form. “Jesus, okay.”

Bentley said nothing as Valor scooped Varian up in his arms, not as effortless as normal, but still easily enough that it didn’t worry him that much. He just turned around and blew out a long breath, trying to force away all the urges to cry and throw up and scream and have a full-blown broadway production worthy panic attack. He couldn't. He couldn't do that right now -- not when Asten...

“God, how is being this light even healthy?” Valor muttered from behind Bentley, dragging him back into the present.

“You’re going to go down this hall until you hit a dead end; it’ll turn right and force you back into the main hall. I- agh!”

Bentley blinked. Charlie?

For a few moments, all he got was silence. Terrifying, horrible, treacherous silence.

And then: “She’s trying to pinpoint your location, but I’m blocking her out, for now,” Her voice was strained, forced. “Anyway — You’ll be forced back to the main hall, and you’ll have to hurry down it, past two labs with windows until you see another hall that branches off to the right. I’ll see if I can keep the people inside from seeing you, but… no promises. I’m not exactly very powerful living in the Secret Keeper’s subconscious.”

Bentley sighed deeply. Okay.

“Come on,” He breathed, turning on his heel and continuing up the dark hall. He heard Valor’s socked footsteps behind him.

"Wait, Bentley," Valor's footsteps drew near to him. "Maybe you should take a second and breathe. You don't look too good."

Bentley shook his head. "There's no time. I'm okay."

Suddenly, red emergency lights started flashing on the walls, and a shrill alarm, sort of like one for a school fire, began to blare throughout the facility. It seemed to pierce his skull and hurt his brain, and he winced.

“That’s for you,” Charlie murmured. "The whole place is going to be looking."

Bentley shook his head. “Great.”

The three of them hurried down the dark hall, turning right once it dead ended and pausing at the entrance to the main hall.

“Don’t go yet! There’s people passing,”

Bentley held up his hand as a signal to tell Valor to stay still. He heard footsteps approaching, and after a few seconds, about ten men in full white-armor jogged by, with guns. They looked just like the guys from the old facility.

Luckily, they were in a rush, and Bentley and his friends shrouded in darkness, so they didn’t see them.

“Go now!”

As soon as the guys were far enough away not to hear, Bentley jogged out into the main hall, closely followed by Valor. He followed Charlie's orders, passing two labs with freakishly large windows and freakishly large amounts of people inside, and taking a right at the next hall. It was dark, but not as dark as the others.

“Fourth door on the left is Asten. Sixth on the right is Koa. Get them fast. The Secret Keeper knows its you, so she's sending people to their rooms as we speak," Charlie ordered.

Bentley hurried to the fourth door on the left, tapping the keycard on the panel almost frantically. He was pretty sure Valor said something, but he didn't really hear it.

The door to Asten's room hissed open, and smoke came out of it.

No, not smoke. Vapor?

Bentley glanced back at Valor in alarm, who simply looked back at him with Varian clutched tight in his arms.

And then it hit him.

A wall of absolutely freezing cold air seemed to slam into Bentley from the now-open doorway, immediately chilling him to the bone. It was so cold and dry that even without wind, it was a biting cold, threatening to numb his fingertips almost instantly.

"Don't come in. Keep Varian out here," Bentley ordered, then he stepped into the freezing cold, solid white room.

He blindly tapped the keycard against the panel that released the shackles, and the sound of them opening and clacking against the floor met his ears.

Asten was laying in a ball in the center of the room in a white jumpsuit like everybody else, perhaps the smallest Bentley had ever seen him. He was shivering so violently Bentley could see it from the door, and his tan skin was pasty and had an... almost blueish hue.

Bentley hurried forward, immediately shedding his hoodie in favor of a t-shirt that froze him to the bone. "Asten."

The closer he got, he realized Asten's lips were a frightening shade of blue, his eyes closed as though he were sleeping. His eyelids fluttered when he heard his name.

"Hey, Asten," Bentley started, crouching down and rubbing the shoulder that was facing him. Asten was cold, legitimately cold to the touch.

His green eyes flicked open, and he looked just about as coherent as Varian had. Could hypothermia do that? A wave of something that could only be described as all-encompassing guilt washed over Bentley, and he had to force it away in order to keep himself in his right mind.

"Here, sit up," Bentley ordered, halfway ushering Asten to sit upright, which was a challenge. It was almost like Asten's muscles and jointes were literally frozen. So much so that Bentley did most of the work of sitting him up and forcing his own hoodie over Asten's head.

"B?" Asten questioned, his teeth literally chattering behind his blue lips as he fumbled to force his arms into the sleeves. "I'm so cold."

"I know," Bentley replied, rising back onto his feet, holding his arms down to him. "Come on, I've got you. You were kidnapped -- we're escaping now."

Asten didn't seem to need any more explanation -- or maybe he didn't hear it. It didn't matter. He reached for Bentley's arms and as such, Bentley hauled him off the floor, taking a step back to brace himself when nearly all of Asten's weight was on him for a few seconds.

"Let's get out of here -- its too cold," Bentley tried, holding tight to Asten's arms and leading him out of the white room and into the dimmer (and warmer) hallway. His motor skills were at a solid, like, zero, his entire body and demeanor seemingly changed by the cold. Was he more susceptible because of his powers, or was it really just that freezing?

"Holy shit, he looks like hell," Was Valor's enlightening commentary when they made it back to the hallway. "His lips are blue!"

With his frozen solid motor skills, Asten tripped over his own feet right when they made it into the hall and Bentley had to use every ounce of strength inside of him to keep him from straight-up face-planting. "Its okay, I've gotcha."

"It's so freaking cold in here, B," He whined. Bentley got him standing again, rubbing at his arms in a poor attempt at summoning warmth.

"I know -- but it'll warm up in a minute," Bentley replied. Asten's eyes suddenly widened when he seemed to see Valor and Varian for the first time, and he inhaled sharply. "Oh shit. What's happening?"

Bentley sighed. "I told you -- we've been kidnapped, but now we're breaking out. We just have to get to Koa, Bellamy, and Rockie."

"Oh my God I can't even hear you because I'm so cold," Asten suddenly hissed, pulling the hood of Bentley's hoodie over his head. "Shit. And I thought Gotham winter was bad."

Bentley exhaled, rubbing his arms for a few more seconds before he stopped, glancing across the hall and counting to the sixth door. "Koa should be right over here. I'll-"

He made a noise of surprise when someone suddenly crashed into him, and the freezing, frost-bitten temperature of their body immediately told him who it was.

Bentley had to physically fight with himself to keep from passing out in the embrace. "Asten, we don't-"

"Here," Valor started, gently lying Varian in the hallway floor. He pushed his hair back in that Bruce way before he stood and swiped the keycard out of Bentley's hand, heading for the cell that Koa was in.

Bentley watched him tap the keycard and open the door, rubbing Asten's back vigorously in an attempt to create warmth. "It's okay."

Asten said nothing, though he seemed to sink into him the longer they stood there, reveling in the body heat. He was shivering like nobody's business. "Shit, Bentley, I'm so cold it feels like I'm gonna die. I don't wanna be here again."

Here as in a lab?

Bentley shook his head lightly. "It's okay," Seemed to be the only thing he could manage to repeat at the moment.

Not ten seconds later, Valor came back out of the room with a very terrified looking Koa clinging to one of his arms. He was in the same jumpsuit they all were, but he had a monstrous looking metal muzzle over his mouth and nose that strapped around his head in several different ways, synched so tight it looked like it was digging into his skin. He was actively crying -- sobbing, really, holding onto Valor for what seemed like dear life. And Valor looked like the absolute epitome of pissed.

He was quick to spit: "It shocks him when he makes a sound, like a damn bark collar on a dog!"

His statement was followed almost immediately by a crack! from the muzzle Koa had on his face, and Bentley cringed when he jumped so hard he hit the doorframe, and Valor suddenly grabbed him by the arms to keep him upright should he fall. "It even does it when he cries!"

"Bentley, you need to move -- sixteen seconds until someone reaches you," Charlie's voice came. "You need to go to the end of this hall and turn left. There's an elevator that'll take you down to Rockie."

Bentley nodded slightly to himself.

"We need to move," He said. Once Koa was stable, Valor went about picking Varian back up, and Bentley barely managed to weasel his hands between himself and Asten to pry him off. "We have to move, okay?"

Asten literally whined at the loss of warmth, but Bentley didn't let himself dwell on it, because he was doing good not to think about all the things that sort of made him wish he were dead. Like the fact that he sort of felt like he was going to die. Instead, he just grabbed onto Asten's sleeve and began to tug him down the hall, past more doors, away from the bright main one. They strode past Koa, who Bentley patted on the shoulder as they went by -- Koa grabbed onto his t-shirt and was pulled along with them.

Bentley took a left turn at the end of the hall, and a few yards ahead of them sat a pair of solid white elevator doors with flickering buttons. "That's where Rockie is. Come on."

The five of them went about stuffing themselves in one of the two elevators. There were no floor buttons on the inside -- Bentley had to activate it with the keycard, and it immediately closed and started going down.

And down.

And down.

He could've swore they were on the elevator for, like five whole minutes before it dinged, and the doors slid open, revealing a solid white hall that was bright and completely devoid of life.

"There's no one on this floor right now. You're going to the fifteenth door on the left side," Charlie ordered. "Take everybody with you -- I have recruited help coming your way."

Okay... Bentley thought, even though the Secret Keeper's not so creepy voice saying she had recruited help coming his way wasn't relaxing in the slightest.

He sent a glance back to everybody before he started down the hall. Varian was still very unconscious, laying completely pale and limp in Valor's arms. Valor was soaked in blood and his wings were still bleeding, leaving an alarming amount of crimson in the elevator alone. Koa looked nothing short of traumatized. He was still crying, but silently, only with his eyes, and he was shaking, flexing and balling up his hands over and over again. Asten was shaking worse, though. His lips were still blue and he looked as though he could fall over at any given moment.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Even with Charlie's so called help, he wasn't sure he could make it out of there. Not when they were all practically half dead, running on adrenaline and fumes and fear.

Nonetheless, Bentley pressed on, moving forward, and he heard three pairs of footsteps behind him that told him the others were doing the same. When he finally counted to the fifteenth door, he tapped the keycard on the panel immediately.

But not so fast that he missed the plaque on the door.

Subject A286

Rockie Winchester

He creased his brow as the words disappeared, the door sliding into the wall like all the others did. He would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid to see what these psychotic people had done to Rockie. He wasn't sure he could stand seeing Rockie go through anything else that year, anyways.

When the door slid open, Bentley was ready for anything. Blood, frostbite, puke, torture devices, mind control, literally anything. He even had a flash of a thought about Rockie being dead behind the door, because that'd be just his luck!

Of all the things he'd expected, prepared himself for...

Rockie being absolutely, one-hundred percent fine wasn't one of them.

He was just standing in the middle of the room. He wasn't even chained up, and he wasn't in a jumpsuit, either, simply dawning the same sweatshirt and sweatpants and his big gloves that he'd been wearing when Bentley saw him splayed out on the couch. He didn't have bruises or scars or cuts on his face, and he didn't look mortified. He looked... fine. Completely fine.

He turned on a dime when the door opened, and his eyes flicked between all of them, his expression varying as he glanced between everyones appearances. "Bentley..."

"C'mon, we have to go." Bentley muttered.

"Don't worry! Your help is here!" Charlie chided in his head.

Suddenly, with a warp of light and a whoosh that sounded like something underwater, someone appeared right next to him.

Voices exploded into an uproar around him, but Bentley didn't really hear what they said -- he recognized that black hair, and those grayish-brown eyes. Although, now, he wasn't in a hospital gown, and he was much taller than Bentley; older.

"Titus?" Came Asten's bewildered voice.

Titus Lancaster, the literal only reason Bentley survived getting kidnapped last time, was standing right in front of him. But he was much older, and much healthier, and much taller. And he didn't look so traumatized anymore. Scared. Now he looked... content, almost.

"You know this guy?!" Valor questioned.

Before either Bentley or Asten could answer, the elevator dinged open, and gunshots pierced the air, probably ten in a solid five-second window.

Everyone seemed to shove their way into Rockie's room in a panic, and Titus grabbed onto Bentley's arm. "Everybody hold on!"

"Wait!" Bentley exclaimed, an all new wave of violent panic surging inside of him. He looked around frantically "What about Bellamy?!"

No one spoke. Not even Charlie.

And then: "I told him to hide. When the people showed up," Rockie piped up, coming over to them from the center of the room. "When we were being pulled out, I didn't see him. He's probably still in the dorm."

The gunshots raged on with a terrifying vengeance, clinking and bouncing off of the white metal of the halls, and Titus squeezed Bentley's arm. "Everybody hold onto each other, make sure you're touching someone who's touching me. This is going to feel really weird and you might puke. Ready?"

Everybody seemed to grab onto each other despite the warning, and not two seconds later, there was a whoosh.

Bentley hadn't missed the feeling of Titus teleporting him; like he was falling from a building, getting whipped around like a piece of paper in a hurricane. He couldn't see anything except vague flashes of color every few seconds. And then wham!

He slammed flat on his back on something carpeted, so hard it knocked the breath out of him and then some. There was a myriad of thumps that echoed from around him, too, and various sounds of pain.

Bentley's vision swam, and his hearing was fading in and out of muffled, and he was so, so tired. He thought he might've seen a trademark stereotypical Redwood Academy light fixture, but he couldn't really make out if that's what it was or not.

"Bentley, don't pass out now. You're almost homefree," Charlie's voice came in his head. "Stay awake!"

For the first time that night, Bentley disobeyed, and the darkness that had been creeping in his subconscious since he first went into the facility swept him away.

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

don’t ask me how i put this out so fast just marvel… jk

also BENTLEY’S FIRST MOMENT™︎ WITH A GIRL

part twenty-nine

❝ SPITE ❞

SATURDAY — JULY 28 — 8:07PM

BENTLEY WENT BACK TO THE MAIN GYMNASIUM, WORKING HIS WAY BACK THROUGH THE CROWD TO ASTEN AND LAYLA.

“What was that about? You just took off,” Asten asked as soon as Bentley returned, scanning him questioningly with his green eyes. Bentley glanced at him, then at Layla, who was looking at him just as curious, then at Vera, who was still onstage, and, finally, back through the doorway where Chloe had been. Crying. Because of him.

“I saw someone I needed to talk to,” He replied, glancing back at Asten, at his sort of fixed blue hair. “But I didn’t catch them in time.”

Bentley looked back at the stage and watched Vera and her band move around on it. He felt Asten’s eyes lingering on him for a while, but eventually, he looked away, too.

Vera was onstage for probably half an hour, and the whole time Bentley was really focused on not having shiny eyes. (It was kinda hard because you can’t feel shiny eyes… so maybe he just looked mad. He’d ask Asten later.)

But finally, she and her band left the stage, and, about two minutes later, she pushed through the crowd toward them.

“That was amazing!” Layla squealed, running up and engulfing her best friend in a bone-crushing hug. 

“Thanks, L,” Vera replied, hugging her back, locking eyes with Bentley over Layla’s shoulder. She smiled softly, the same kind of way she had on stage, and he smiled back.

(Were her eyes shiny, or was it just the lights?)

“I didn’t know you were in a band,” Was what he finally said. Vera wriggled her way out of Layla’s embrace and stepped up to him with a shrug. 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Red,” She snickered, folding her arms in front of her. “But yeah — being a famous singer is, like, my dream. Mrs. Hastings helped me find people here to make a little band. We may not have a tour bus and sold out venues, but it’s fun to play here.”

Bentley hummed. “It’s really cool.”

“Thanks… but you’d take that back if you heard the band name,” She snorted. “The boys named it. After the Apocalypse.”

“That’s not bad. What about hootie and the blowfish? That’s a bad band name,”

“Hey! Don’t sleep on hootie!” She ordered with a laugh. “They were actually pretty good.”

“I didn’t say they weren't,” He snickered. “Who’s in your band?”

Vera glanced back up at the stage. “Most of them were friends with my brother, before he went missing. He used to tutor and hang out with the younger kids here at Redwood because he didn’t like anyone his age.”

Bentley said nothing to that, but glanced up at her. She’d heard her mention her brother before, but he didn’t know he was missing. Why was she acting so… casual about it?

“It’s fine, I mean, he went missing when I was, like, eight,” She shrugged. When Bentley scrunched his face up in confusion, she cringed. “Oops, I just read your mind. Sorry. Sometimes I hear it so naturally it sounds like you’re talking to me.” She sighed. “But yeah. They say he went missing, but I saw him leave in his car when he was sixteen. So he’s probably just out there doing what he wants. I don’t blame him — my parents were trash.”

Bentley hummed, glancing back at the stage. “What’s his name?”

“Noah,”

He, again, said nothing. He couldn’t imagine one of his siblings going missing… let alone for seven years. 

Seven years. Was Noah Levante even still alive?

“Of course he’s alive!” Vera suddenly blurted, and when Bentley looked over at her, she huffed. “Sorry, I did it again. But he’s alive. The police are still looking for him.”

“Okay,” He replied simply, glancing back at the stage.

A moment of quiet came and went.

“Anyways, you asked about my band,”

Vera went on naming the members of her band and telling Bentley about them, but the whole time, he could only think about Noah.

And the fact that when police couldn’t find someone for that long, they were usually… 

Dead.

—

When they made it back to the dorm, Bentley’s social battery was more dead than week-old roadkill. It was only nine-thirty, but it felt more like two in the morning. Everyone had had a pretty mediocre time at the dance. As Bentley had expected — besides Koa, though, who spent the whole thing with Summer and was happy about it. Bentley guessed it had been fine for him… besides seeing Georgia cheating and making Chloe cry. And talking about Vera’s dead missing brother.

Okay, so maybe the majority had been kinda un-fine.

Chloe really was pretty, but it didn’t seem to actually matter when she was trying to shove it down his throat like she did. If she would’ve been nice to Layla and stuff, they might’ve even been friends. But she made him feel so… weird. Uncomfortable. Gross. Summer and Layla and Vera and even Georgia were all pretty, but none of them acted like her. Why did she act like that? Like she had to prove to everyone that she was pretty?

Despite wanting to sleep desperately, he laid in his bed and thought about her. About why she felt the need to tell everyone how attractive she was. And then, going through all the potential answers he came up with (none of which ended up being good), he managed to make himself feel like a bucket of garbage for being mean to her.

But she was pretty mean, too, even if it wasn’t to him. She was mean to his friends. She was a jerk.

So why couldn’t he stop feeling so bad about what he’d said? It was even true — her dress was really too short. But…

It was nearing ten o’clock, and thirty minutes of laying there with his eyes closed, when he heard Asten climb off the top bunk and leave their bedroom. Then, a few minutes later, a few voices came and went, and the dorm door closed.

That’s about when Summer’s voice echoed in his head: The afterparty starts at ten at Mason’s house — fifteen plus. Don’t be late.

Asten was going again?

Did he not remember… last time he…

What?

Bentley promptly rose from his bed and glanced around their dark room, flipping the lamp in the corner on. He checked the top bunk and desks for Asten’s phone, but it was gone, and when he went out into the living area, it was empty. Rockie and Valor’s bedroom door was wide open to the world — empty, too.

Asten was going back? And he wasn’t going to tell him?

Bentley, with a huff, plopped on the couch and whipped his phone out of his pocket, tapping on Asten’s name — so much for not keeping secrets, right? No, he backspaced that. Where are you? Would it be petty of him to copy the exact string of texts that Asten had sent to him when he was gone? He backspaced that, too. Did you go to the party again? Was that too accusatory? 

He emptied out the text box and just stared at it. Why would Asten go back after what happened last time? He came back to the dorm sick and crying and he was going to go do it all a second time? 

Bentley stared at Asten’s messages for a good ten minutes before he finally huffed and swiped them away.

All that talk about secrets, and Asten still only left in the quiet after he thought Bentley was asleep. At least last time he’d woken him up to lie to him.

Bentley huffed and raked his hand through his hair.

Asten was just going to up and leave the dorm in the middle of the night and keep it secret?

Fine. If Asten was allowed to do it, then Bentley was, too.

He scrolled through his contacts until he found a familiar name, tapped on it, and held his phone up to his ear.

“Oh, look, the asshole’s calling,” Chided a high-pitched falsetto, laced with something thick that made Bentley’s guilt come back ten times worse. “What do you want? To humiliate me for the twentieth time?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, a strange mixture of feelings swirling around inside of him. He was tired, but he was also kinda pissed at Asten, and he also felt like the asshole of the century.

He exhaled. “Chloe, I… need to talk to you,” He glanced at the dorm door that Asten had so readily gone through without telling him. “In person.”

He heard her hum. “Really? Alright… What building are you in?”

He glanced over at Varian’s bedroom door, like he was about to come out and catch him in the act. “Aristotle.”

“Okay,” She replied. “Meet me under the willow trees — near the fountain between Columbus and Aristotle.”

Then she hung up. 

Bentley went back into his room, traded his pajamas out for some pants and a hoodie, then went to the door of the dorm and stared at it.

If Asten wasn’t going to tell him about the party until it was convenient… then he wasn’t going to tell him about sneaking out with Chloe in the middle of the night until it was convenient, either.

—

It was kind of cool outside when he made it to the fountain. 

It was quiet — the running water and rustling of trees were the only sounds he could hear. The moon and stars were all that were providing him with light, dimly illuminating the walkways so he could see where to step. He might’ve used his phone flashlight if he weren’t petrified of being caught by campus security. (Which Redwood claimed to have but… Bentley and his roommates snuck off and around campus, like, constantly with no issues? Had he ever even seen a security guard there?)

“Look who decided to show up. I half thought you were just trying to stand me up and make me feel like an idiot,” Came Chloe’s voice. He followed it to the darkness ahead of the fountain, where he could see the subtle silhouette of two willow trees and a small blob sitting under them, a little ways from the sidewalk.

With a sigh (he didn’t let himself think very much about what he was doing — it was just to apologize and get back at Asten.), he made his way in that direction, stepping off the sidewalk and into the grass, toward the trees. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he recognized that the blob sitting on the ground was her — she was out of her dress now, wearing what looked like a huge sweater and leggings, with some fuzzy boot-slipper-things that looked like the ones Summer had worn in the nurse’s office. Her hair was pulled up into a curly ponytail. She was looking at him, sitting on the grass with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms tight around them.

With a sharp inhale, Bentley went and sat himself beside her on the ground.

For a while, they were quiet, with only the fountain and gentle breeze to distract them. Bentley just kind of watched her for a minute — she didn’t really look at him, she just laid her chin on her knees and watched the fountain in the distance.

Bentley sighed, pulling his legs up criss-cross. “I’m really sorry I made you cry. I’m not usually so mean, I don’t… know why I said that. You looked pretty.”

He saw Chloe glance over at him in the dark, and it was his turn to look at the fountain instead of at her. “Really?” She asked. Then she cleared her throat and looked away. “It’s okay. I know I’ve been weirding you out. What you said… it isn’t actually why I was crying.”

He looked over at her in the dark, her features becoming slowly more discernible as his eyes continued to adjust. “Oh?”

Chloe shrugged, and one of the shoulders of her sweater fell off only for her to tug it back up anxiously. “I mean, it didn’t exactly help, but… right after Vera started playing, my mom called me.”

She breathed in and out, laying her head back on her knees. “I’m not allowed to go home for Christmas, because… of you.”

Bentley furrowed his brow, glancing back over at her. “What?”

Chloe glanced back at him, her brown eyes flicking back and forth between his before she smiled sadly. “My mom went to Redwood when she was young — seduced every guy in her path, married into a family of millionaires, divorced him and got all his money. My two older sisters are doing the same — one just got married and the other just got divorced,” She explained softly, looking away again. “My mom wanted me to do the same thing. Y’know, so I don’t have to work n’stuff. She never found anyone for me, but then she just about died when she heard Bruce Wayne’s kid was coming to Redwood this year. So she told me I had to…”

Chloe glanced up at him, her brown eyes bouncing across his face again. “Seduce you. So I can marry you. Take your name. Be a Wayne. Get rich.”

Bentley exhaled lightly. “Oh. That’s… kinda…”

“Crazy? Screwed up? Psychotic? I know. We’re freaking thirteen and she…” Chloe sighed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry I freaked you out. Most teenage boys just fall on their face in the presence of a girl like that, they always have… but then you didn’t, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just… kept doing it, because… that’s what I’ve always been told to do. Even now, it’s… weird. To just talk to you.”

Bentley said nothing. A mom forcing her daughter to act like that… was kind of… he wasn’t sure.

“My moms all about, like, schedules and timing, and she wanted you around my finger by the dance. And you weren’t, so I got punished,”

Bentley breathed in heavily, hoping the reality of the strange and slightly concerning situation would change on his exhale. It didn't. “I’m… sorry.”

Chloe waved her hand at him. “It’s fine. I mean, if I was just normal you might’ve been friends with me… it wasn’t your fault.”

Bentley looked down at his own lap. “That really sucks, though. About Christmas. You just have to… stay on campus?”

“Yep,” She replied, popping the ‘p’, looking out at the fountain. “All by myself while my whole family just… gets together and forgets about me.”

Bentley frowned when he heard her sniffle lightly, and she turned away from him.

Oh, God. Now a girl was crying. What in the world was he supposed to do with that? 

“I’m sorry,” She sniffled. “You didn’t care about any of that. What did you want to talk about?”

“I… just came to apologize for being mean,” Bentley replied. “I feel like crap about it.”

“Everyone in high school feels like crap about something all the time,” She snickered emptily, but Bentley was pretty sure she just did it to mask a sniff. “Being a teenager sucks; like I can’t do anything right.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it does.”

Another long silence ensued where the only thing Bentley could hear was Chloe crying. He glanced around awkwardly — at the fountain, the grass, the trees above them. (What would he do if it was one of his roommates?)

Eventually, he reached over and rested a hand on her back, moving his thumb back and forth gently. 

He immediately regretted it when she quickly reached back and grabbed his wrist without as much as turning her head, probably to push it off or get onto him for touching her.

Or… not?

Actually, she… laced her fingers between his, pulled his hand close, and held it.

Bentley was glad it was dark, because he was sure his face turned the color of a tomato. He’d never… and… with a girl? Was this even allowed?

He wasn’t exactly sure what to do, but his arm was at a weird angle, so he just scooted closer to her and… let her. He wasn’t going to be the jerk that was mean to her and then ripped his hand out of hers while she was obviously in distress and needed comfort, no matter how weird it was. Holding her hand wasn’t bad, was it? He was pretty sure it wasn’t or Layla wouldn’t have grabbed his earlier.

It was weird, and he was pretty sure his hand was clammy because he was kinda freaking out. Did she actually think he was… hot… or was that just something she’d said to appease her mother? Was it all fake, or was there a chance that she… because he… didn’t…

For a while, she just cried, and Bentley felt like the biggest bag of garbage despite her saying it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t good at situations like that — he never had been, he never would be. It was all technically his fault, right? That she got in trouble?

(Jeez, he was just screwing things up left and right, wasn’t he?)

Silently, he wiggled his hand out of hers, which earned him a confused, teary look that made him feel ten times worse. Then, without saying a thing, he extended his arm out to the side like Bruce often did.

Chloe just looked at him for a moment. Then, like he’d told her she was the ugliest girl in the world or something, she started crying even harder and pushed herself into his side, wrapping her arms around his torso and hiding her face in his hoodie to sob there. And he just sort of hugged her back. (It worked the same way with girls that it did with other guys, right?)

And that’s how they stayed for a long time.

(And he kinda forgot he was there just to spite Asten.)

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

OUCH YOU'RE GOING TO LOVE AND MAYBE HATE ME A LITTLE DURING THIS ONE I DID SOMETHING FOR YOU GUYYYYS <333333333333333

part forty-one

❝ ISOLATION ❞

FRIDAY — AUGUST 24 — 12:56PM

THE DORM WAS QUIET FOR THE NEXT FEW DAYS. Bentley had stayed with Rockie on Tuesday until Valor got back, and it had been just about one of the most heart wrenching things he’d ever been a part of. Rockie didn't stop crying until almost midnight. He couldn’t even manage to get himself off the floor for a while, even after Valor had joined them.

Meanwhile, Asten had turned into an absolute nervous wreck. Bentley had told him Georgia didn’t say anything about him, but it didn’t seem to matter — he was jumpy and fidgety and pretty much always looked one step away from having some kind of breakdown. Rockie hadn’t come out of his room for three whole days, but that was fine — because Bentley was pretty sure Asten would self destruct the moment they laid eyes on each other.

Today wasn’t much better for either of them. It was Friday, but the typical weekend buzz was practically nonexistent in their dorm. Bentley, Varian, and Koa were the only three that ventured out of their rooms, and they were all just kind of… sitting there on their phones. Not doing much. It was almost one in the afternoon, and the sun was shining right into their windows, making it bright and happy even if the mood didn’t really translate to anyone inside.

The three of them looked up when Valor came out of his and Rockie’s bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. He had a banana in his hand (he’d gone to the store yesterday for a long time looking for food that was easy to eat.) and it was completely unpeeled and untouched. He tossed it onto the kitchen counter with a huff, running a hand through his hair. His wings twitched on his back in a way that indicated he was irritated, or worried, maybe.

He looked nothing short of absolutely exhausted — which wasn’t very surprising, since he’d been the one taking care of Rockie for the past three days. Bentley had asked if he wanted help but he always said it was fine, that he didn’t need it, so…

“Is he okay?” Varian questioned quietly. He was on the couch on the cushion next to Bentley, though they hadn’t talked since he sat down.

“He won’t eat,” Valor replied, leaning back on the kitchen counter and sighing heavily. “It’s been three days and he still won’t touch anything. He won’t even drink coffee.”

Koa scrunched his face up. “He hasn’t eaten anything?”

“Not really. He had a little yesterday, and Wednesday, but he threw up both times within, like, ten minutes,” Valor replied, running another anxious hand over his hair. “I don’t know what the hell to do. I can’t force him to eat, especially if it’s just going to make him sick.”

Bentley didn’t say anything, just sort of exhaled lightly.

“I mean, I could try if you want me to… but I don’t think I’m going to get anywhere if you can’t,” Koa replied, shifting on the couch across from Bentley to face Valor. “Do you need a break? You look kinda tired.”

Valor shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”

Bentley didn’t say anything. 

“Have you even eaten food since all of this went down?” Koa questioned, sending him a sideways glance. “I know you want him to be okay, but-“

“I’m okay,” Valor replied, sending them a tight-lipped smile. “Don’t worry about me, alright?”

Koa opened his mouth, but for some reason, nothing came out.

Valor turned toward the counter, grabbed a cup of coffee out of the microwave that he’d heated up at least four times trying to get Rockie to drink it, and went back into their bedroom without another word.

Bentley, Varian, and Koa all shared glances, each with varying level of worry.

Then Bentley’s phone started ringing.

He pulled it out of his pocket and rose from the couch, heading to his and Asten’s bedroom. The caller ID read Summer.

He swung their door open and stepped inside. Asten was lying on the top bunk staring at his phone, doing a whole lot of nothing, like he had been for a few days now. Like they all had.

(Bentley wished he could do something to make everybody feel better.)

He lifted the phone to his ear and cleared his throat. “Hello?”

“Hey, Bentley,” Summer started with a light sigh. “Georgia just told me…”

Bentley didn’t say anything, just sat down in his desk chair with a soft exhale, sending a glance to Asten, who looked at him for a quiet second before looking back at his phone.

“How is Rockie?” She continued.

Bentley sighed, glancing down at his lap. “Not good.”

He heard her exhale. “Is there anything I can do?”

Bentley shrugged even though she couldn’t see him. “I don’t think so…”

There were a few sounds on the other end of the phone like she was moving. “I… I told Georgia that I couldn’t keep hanging out with her if she was going to treat people like that.”

“But... Isn’t she your best friend?” Bentley questioned with a cringe.

“She was,” Summer replied. “But Rockie’s my friend, too. I know it’s not always alright right to pick sides in breakups, but… I think this one is justified. She didn’t only willingly screw him over, but she willingly screwed over every guy she told she was single, just for her own pleasure. And as much as I love her, I don’t want to hang out with someone like that.”

Bentley didn’t say anything.

“Speaking of. How’s Asten?”

Bentley glanced at the top bunk. Asten didn’t look at him, but just stayed cocooned in his blankets like he had for the last three days, staring at his phone.

“Eh… could be better, I guess,” Bentley shrugged again. “How are you? After talking to Georgia?”

Summer sighed. “I’m fine. She kind of blew up on me, but I have no room to complain. I, of all people, got off the best in this whole situation. I’ll always get more friends. Plus, right now, I kinda have the best ones, so.”

Bentley snickered. “You got that right.”

He heard Summer chuckle, too. “Alright, well, that’s all I was calling to ask,” She continued. “Don’t be a stranger, Wayne. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Bentley smiled faintly. “Bye.”

And the call ended.

“Well. She seems all cozy with you,” Asten stated from the top bunk. Bentley grabbed the first thing he could get his hand on (a big pink eraser off the desk.) and threw it at him, the small pink rectangle hitting him in the side of the head with a bonk.

"Ah! Hey, I'm just telling it as I see it," Asten continued, tossing his hands out.

"Then stop," Bentley huffed. "I don't pay for your commentary on my life."

"Hey, you're the one that came in here," He replied with a shrug. "And its one of the perks that comes with adopting the awesomeness that is me."

Bentley rolled his eyes, and the bedroom fell quiet for a few moments.

He heard Asten sigh lightly. "How's Rockie? Any change?"

Bentley shrugged. "No. Valor said he won't eat anything. He throws up every time he does."

Asten didn't say anything, and Bentley glanced up at him, at the blank way he was looking at his phone -- like he wasn't actually looking at whatever was on the screen, but through it.

"It isn't your fault," Bentley spoke up again. "She's been doing this forever."

A moment of nothing passed.

"He's going to hate me when he finds out," Asten said softly, with an emotion in his voice Bentley couldn't quite place. "If he doesn't murder me first."

"She kept you in the dark. How is that your fault?"

Asten shrugged. "I shouldn't have been in there with her in the first place."

More silence.

"Hey, B?"

Bentley glanced up at him, and he caught Asten's green eyes looking at him from over the rail of the bed. "Yeah?"

"When you told me you spent the night with a girl... were you lying?"

Bentley glanced down at his own feet, swinging them back and forth nervously in the desk chair. "No."

Asten was quiet for a second. "Who was it?"

"Uh... Chloe. Singh..." Bentley replied. Asten scrunched his face up, creasing his brows at him.

"You mean the one who was super weird and inappropriate to you?"

Bentley shrugged. "Yeah... that's the one. But she apologized and stuff... she isn't really like that."

Asten looked back at his phone for a few moments. "Did she kiss you?"

"What?" Bentley blurted, a sudden memory of Vera's face flashing through his mind. He shook his head profusely. "No. Of course not."

"Honest?" Asten asked. "Because if she did, and you didn't want to, that's... not okay..."

"She didn't, I swear. We just talked," He replied, glancing up at Asten, who nodded.

"Okay..."

More quiet passed, and Bentley just picked at his phone case. "Asten?"

"Hm?"

"... Why do you keep getting drunk if it just ends... bad, every time?"

For a few moments, Asten was dead silent. Bentley thought he might not reply, but eventually, he sighed.

"Because it feels good. For a while. Helps me forget how much of a disaster I am," He muttered, looking down at his hands and fiddling with his fingers. "And then, eventually, as the night goes on, it just... doesn't feel good anymore."

Bentley said nothing.

"Recently I've been such a mess that its kind of like... I dunno. A sweet release, for a little bit," He shrugged, eyes staying trained on his own hands. "I thought everyone was being dramatic about how much pain it numbs, but they weren't wrong. No matter how many times you do it, though, it never actually makes anything hurt less. Just makes you forget and do stupid shit for a while."

Bentley breathed in and out. "I wish everyone could just be happy."

"Nah," Asten chuckled bitterly. "That'd be too boring."

Bentley didn't say anything.

Suddenly, Asten's phone started ringing the telltale chime of a video call. He glanced at the screen, and a little semblance of a smile pulled up on his face. "It's Nico."

Bentley put his phone on the desk and hopped up, climbing onto Asten's bunk as he answered the call. "Hey, Nico."

Nico didn't say anything. His screen appeared, but it was only the blue outside sky moving back and forth like he was walking with his phone in his hand.

Bentley and Asten glanced at each other in confusion.

"Nico?" Asten continued.

He didn't appear on the screen, but a familiar sound came through the speakers -- a sound Bentley hadn't heard in a long time. The little rattle-rattle-rattle-hiss-hiss of his inhaler.

"Shit," Was Nico's enlightening response. His voice was muffled by the sound of the wind against the device's microphones, but Bentley managed to pick up on just a little bit of something thick in his tone.

Asten blinked a few times, watching the screen move. "Hey, dude... What's going on?"

There was a few more moments of quiet, and then a quiet little hic! that clued them both in to the fact that he was crying.

Asten opened his mouth to speak again, but Nico did instead.

"My parents just told me they just finished getting divorced. My dad is leaving in, like, two hours to move to Ohio with my sister. And I have to stay here."

Bentley and Asten shared quick eye contact again, this time, full of pity.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with that?" Nico continued, sniffling deeply, a few quiet sobs racking his body.

Asten opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, so Bentley talked instead.

"I'm so sorry," Was what he said.

"I thought everything was fine. They acted like they were fine," He rambled as he walked, the wind making a few loud noises in the speakers. "I thought I knew them when I was younger, but then I didn't because they weren't my real parents. Then I thought I knew them after that, but I still freaking didn't..."

Bentley frowned sadly, and the honk of a car came from the other end of the call like Nico was in the road.

"Where are you going?" Asten asked softly, watching the clouds move back and forth on the screen.

"I don't know," Nico sniffled, offering no further explanation.

Asten sighed lightly. "Well, we're in quarantine or some shit right now, but you can always zoom on over here, if you need to. I think I sent you our dorm-" The call ended with three shrill beeps. "-number...?"

Bentley creased his brow and glanced over at the screen. "Maybe he hung up by accident?"

Suddenly, there was a loud whoosh! of wind that sent papers flying off of the desks and a few things falling out of their places around their bedroom. When Bentley looked down at it all, their window was standing open, and...

Nico... who they hadn't seen for almost three years... was standing in the middle of their bedroom. Crying.

Shouting: "Oh my God, Nico!" was Asten's first response. Bentley tried to talk but he didn't really have anything to say. Instead, he kind of just threw himself off of the top bunk all not-gracefully, and Asten followed closely behind.

Nico was just kind of standing there, looking so different but so the same. He looked older and he was a lot taller than Bentley now, but he still had those big eyes that told everyone around him exactly what he was feeling, and that same way of looking so much smaller than he actually was when he was upset. But even then, there was something newer -- a confidence or something that he hadn't had when they all lived in Gotham together.

With no idea what to say, Bentley just stepped forward and hugged him, and he sobbed.

The way Nico hugged him back in a death grip even felt the same as it had in Gotham. That kind of hold-me-or-else-I'm-gonna-literally-die kind of thing he always seemed to have going on. Bentley had flashbacks to the night Nico told him he was adopted, when Asten left them on the side of the road to go get something from Crime Alley. He guessed the circumstances were similar -- feeling completely betrayed by his parents both times in very substantial ways.

"I don't know what to do," He muttered into Bentley's shoulder, his crying sort of making it hard to tell what he was saying. Bentley felt him pick his head up slightly, and one of his arms left his back, reaching out to the side for something that was next to them.

When Bentley looked, it was Asten, looking absolutely stunned at Nico's presence. And he was...

He was crying, too. Maybe because Nico was there. Maybe because of everything he was struggling with. Maybe because Nico was there layered overtop of all the stuff he was struggling with.

Upon Nico's silent request, Asten joined the embrace. And for a minute, even though everything was kind of falling apart, and Rockie was basically catatonic, and the Secret Keeper was trying to kill them, and everyone was sad and crying and angry and afraid... it felt like everything was just a little bit okay.

--

tag list that KINDA works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

a short one but OH WELL I WANTED TO SPLIT IT HERE

part forty-two

❝ A WELCOME GUEST ❞

FRIDAY — AUGUST 24 — 2:32PM

NICO CRIED FOR A LONG TIME. He kept muttering things, like how he didn’t actually know his parents, or that he didn’t want to go home, or that he didn’t know what to do. There were a few times the wind started to blow inside the dorm, but he was quick to make it stop — he was a lot better about controlling it now than he had been before.

Currently, all the dorm lights were off but the lamp, the curtains were pulled shut, and Nico was asleep in Bentley’s bed. Both he and Asten were just kind of there, watching his chest rise and fall methodically.

He looked the same when he was sleeping as he had back in Gotham. Bentley couldn’t recall a single time he’d ever slept over that was good, or just for fun, even now. Out of all the times he’d ever seen him asleep, he’d never actually seen him sleep peacefully. Which was just a little bit concerning given the amount of times they’d slept next to each other.

Bentley and Asten were both sitting at their desks, doing nothing in particular. What were they supposed to do when a kid that didn’t go to school there just sort of… showed up unannounced? They weren’t just going to kick him to the curb, that was for sure. He had super speed, so obviously nobody had seen him come in. Bentley thought about telling their roommates but honestly just hadn’t gotten around to it. The whole dorm was a bit sad anyways.

In the dead silence that was their bedroom, Bentley glanced over at Asten. He hadn’t exactly said much since Nico got there. His green eyes were still slightly rimmed with red and his breath involuntarily shuddered every now and then. (Since when was Bentley ever the one out of the three of them who kept his composure? Asten had dragged them through the woods while being chased by a murderous scientist after seeing what they thought were dead bodies, got a bear trap slammed on his leg, and still hadn’t cried half as much as he just had when Nico showed up. Bentley wasn’t sure what made the difference now.)

Bentley sighed after a long time of quiet, whispering: “Are you okay?”

Asten glanced over at him, his sad green eyes bouncing across Bentley’s face for a second before he nodded. 

“Yeah,” He replied, looking back down at his own hands. “If I had known he was coming, I wouldn’t have freaked out like that. Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry,” Bentley replied softly. “I just want you to be okay.”

Asten glanced over at him for a second, but Bentley just sort of looked at Nico.

“I’m okay,” Was his muted response. 

Bentley said nothing.

Asten breathed in, looking back over at Nico. “How long should we let him stay?”

Bentley shrugged, watching as Nico shifted the tiniest bit in his bed. “I don’t know. It’s not like any teachers are going to find out during quarantine. Should we tell everyone else?”

“I already texted Valor. He seems to be fine with it, but I’ll make a group chat and drop it in there, too. So everyone knows,” Asten replied, whipping his phone out of his pocket. “I also texted Nico’s mom, let her know that he’s safe. But I didn’t tell her where we are. All she said was thank you.” 

Bentley didn’t say anything. He felt his phone vibrate a few moments later from Asten’s group text, but didn’t pull it out.

“I can sleep on the empty bunk in Bellamy’s room tonight. And for however long he wants to stay here,” Bentley suggested, gesturing to Nico. (He ignored the little voice in the back of his head that kept saying: is this even legal?)

Asten nodded. “Okay.”

A sudden exclamation of “Oh, shit!” Emanated through the bedroom door from the living area, and Bentley could’ve swore he heard someone drop something. 

He and Asten glanced at each other, before he reluctantly stood. “I’ll go check.”

“Okay,” Was Asten’s quiet response. 

With a soft sigh, Bentley made for their door and made his way out of it, closing it behind him as softly as he could. He couldn’t really pinpoint what had happened for a few moments, because there was no one in the living area or kitchen, but then he saw Valor and Koa in the floor near the dining table.

“What happened?” He asked, moving closer to them. Valor was sitting on the floor, and Koa had a hand on the back of his head, pushing it down between his knees like Bentley had seen Bruce do to his brothers (mostly Tim) after they passed out or something.

“This loser fainted because he refuses to take care of himself,” Koa grumbled. “Because I was right, like I always am. But I digress. Will you go in there with Rockie?”

Bentley blinked. “Me?”

Koa glanced up at him. “I mean, he obviously likes you the most out of all of us who are functioning right now.”

“I am functioning,” Valor grumbled.

Bentley glanced at him, then over at Rockie’s closed bedroom door. “Yeah... I’ll go.”

“Thanks,”

Bentley said nothing, but made for Rockie’s door. He was kind of afraid of what he would find inside, because he hadn’t seen Rockie in almost three whole days, but he went in anyways.

Their blackout curtains were pulled shut, making the room nearly pitch black apart from the single sliver of light coming from the bathroom; and Rockie was just… curled up in his bed. Buried in the blankets sort of like Asten had been earlier. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t looking at anything, really, just sort of… staring. His face was eerily blank.

Bentley stepped in and closed the door softly. “Hey… Rockie.”

His green eyes flicked over to him for half a second before focusing back on whatever they had been. It seemed to be the desk sitting by the door, although Bentley thought he might’ve been looking more through it than at it.

Bentley sighed lightly, feeling extraordinarily out of his element. He just sort of took a few tentative steps forward, sitting down softly on the end of Rockie’s bed, near his feet.

Bentley heard him breathe in lightly. 

“Where’s Valor?” Rockie spoke, which he hadn’t really expected. His voice was hardly above a whisper, and it sounded different than it usually did, layered with something. Or… stripped. Sort of thick and thin at the same time.

“He’s… taking a break,” Is what Bentley said. (He decided Rockie didn’t need the guilt of Valor’s issues on his back, with everything else.) “He’s… tired, so… looks like you’re stuck with me.”

His attempt at humor fell flat, and neither of them spoke for a little while. Rockie inhaled a few times like he was going to start talking, but… he never ultimately did. They just kind of both were… there. Quietly.

“Valor told me about your friend,” Rockie muttered finally, so quiet Bentley had to process it for a few moments before he actually understood what he said. “Is he okay?”

Bentley wondered how in the world Rockie was checking on someone else in the midst of all of this.

“He’s alright. Sleeping now. His parents just got divorced, so…” Bentley shrugged. “He’s okay, though.”

Rockie didn’t say anything else, and still didn’t look over at him. Ten, maybe fifteen whole minutes of silence passed before he spoke again.

“She cheated on me fifty-seven times in the past two years. And that’s just everyone she slept with,” He said quietly, shifting in the bed. “Who the hell does that?”

Bentley wasn’t sure what to say, so he didn’t.

“I… heard about Asten,” He continued. And suddenly Bentley kinda wanted to throw himself off a cliff even though he wasn’t part of the situation in the slightest. (Who had told him about Asten?) “Valor said that’s why he’s been so...” Rockie trailed off and shrugged subtly. “Will you tell him I’m not mad?”

Bentley blinked. He wasn't... what?

“Yeah... yeah, I’ll tell him," Bentley replied, a physical relief flooding his veins. "He’ll be really happy. He… was afraid you’d hate him.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Rockie replied softly. 

Bentley let out a sigh of relief even though it wasn't even for himself. (Maybe now Asten could stop being so sad?)

A soft sniff broke him out of whatever trance he’d been in, and when Bentley looked up, Rockie put his hands over his face with a soft: “Shit.”

Bentley exhaled lightly, scooting himself back on Rockie’s bed until he was against the wall. Then he moved up toward the top so he was next to him, and he rubbed his arm gently. “You don’t have to talk to me about it, you know. You can just lay here.”

A few moments of silence passed.

“How the hell is she so okay?” He muttered, his voice muffled from his hands and his very sudden crying. “I feel like I’m gonna fucking die.”

Bentley didn’t say anything, just rubbed his arm some more. He didn’t know what to say. But he did know that he felt kind of like a piece of garbage and he hadn’t even done anything wrong.

For a while, Rockie just cried. And Bentley just sort of sat there with him. (He felt kinda bad because he was pretty sure Rockie wasn’t crying before he went in there. Although he wasn’t particularly shocked at his ability to make things worse by simply existing.)

Rockie sniffled deeply. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Bentley was quick to reply. “If I only like hanging out with you when you’re happy, I wouldn’t be much of a friend.”

“If you only hung out with me when I was happy, you’d have never hung out with me at all,” Rockie muttered. To himself, mostly, but Bentley didn’t miss it. It made him remember the Fluoxetine and then he suddenly felt really bad.

He, with a quiet sigh, brought one of his hands up and raked it through Rockie’s hair, who didn’t seem to mind.

He just kind of hoped everyone would be better soon.

--

tag list that KINDA works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

⚠️HEY JUST SO YOU KNOW I DID ANOTHER LITTLE COLLABORATION WITH ONE OF MY MOST AMAZING READERS/MUTUALS AND THEREFORE THIS CHAPTER WAS WRITTEN ENTIRELY BY THE VERY TALENTED @flyrobinflyy SO PLEASE GIVE HER LOTS OF LOVE AND APPLAUSE AND SCREAMING

part forty-three

❝ BIRTHDAY BAT ❞

MONDAY — OCTOBER 10 — 10:47AM

Something was digging into Bentley’s spine — the door frame? — and it hurt. His face was pressed into carpet, eyes blinking slowly at the small beam of light that was stabbing through the darkness. He kicked a leg out in a weak attempt to gather his bearings, a socked foot slamming into already dented drywall. 

As if on cue, every sense within him heightened. The carpet tore at each pore of his skin the longer he laid there, but he couldn’t get up. His hands were numb, every cell in his body far too focused on making his heart beat out of his chest rather than keeping sensation in his limbs. His leg laid limply where it was, socked toes just barely pressed against the wall. 

Bentley had been here before. 

He’d been here enough times to recognize the flickering light, only dimming once every other minute. The air tasted the same, full of cleaner. It’d been dumped into the carpet, once, after he’d scraped his knee on the way in and left a bloodstain behind. He knew that.

What he didn’t recognize was the noise. There wasn’t ever much noise before, hia father’s closet being far from the main stomping grounds of… anyone. This time, though, there was a steady beat filtering under the door. A soft, quiet voice accompanied it, one he didn’t recognize but made his skin crawl nonetheless.

Bentley gasped for a breath. It surprised him when it worked, the wheeze of his lungs drowning out the new sound completely. He clamped his mouth shut for a split second, desperate to hear the noise return. D–Br–Batman, whoever that was, always said that in order to truly understand the space around them, they needed to understand themselves. Bentley, for one, was very understanding of the fact that he was actively having an anxiety attack.

Still, he burned a hole into the wall with his stare until he relaxed his tense muscles and did his best to level out his choppy breaths. A figment of relaxation was still relaxation, wasn’t it? 

Eventually, his grip on the impossible beginning to waver, his teeth stopped chattering. His fingers allowed themselves to flex, just barely, and he could drag his head—and ear—closer to the door. 

ap…day…de..r…bentl…ha…bir…t…ou

It was unmistakably a woman's voice in the beginning, but it seemed to morph through different tones and rhythms as each sound made its way to him. There was a sharp male voice that made him twitch, but it passed as quickly as it came, and was replaced with a gruffer tone, one that made him want to leave the darkness and search for it himself. 

hap..birt..ay..to…o…ha…

An accented voice this time, familiar to Bentley for a reason he didn’t know. He was suddenly able to move slowly, to pull his legs in, to push himself up. As he shifted onto his knees and reached for the door knob with his left hand, the eerie voices changed into something else. Pitched, abrupt, but still sickly sweet.

Wake up, little bird. 

The song grew louder, the words connecting for only a second before twisting into incomprehensible murmurs of voices.

Bentley’s hand hovered above the knob. It felt warm, even from a distance, like it was in motion. He needed to leave, to go towards the noise. To go towards the warmth.

Wake up, birthday boy!

As soon as Bentley’s hand touched the knob, he jerked awake with the remnants of a gasp on his tongue. His dorm was dark, the blackout curtains drawn shut, and completely silent. Asten must have already woken up, because he couldn’t hear him breathing. Bentley let himself crumble just slightly, tugging his blankets closer and biting down on his cheek to prevent anything more than a cut off whimper from escaping.

‘Lower stakes’ dreams like this one, dreams specifically orchestrated by her just to off-set him a little bit, were easier to deal with than they used to be. He could fold them up into a little box and cram them into the back of his mind now, which was better than nothing. And he did that now — forced it to the back of his mind and chose to stop thinking about it. After all, she was just playing with him. For now.

Regardless, he was still slick with sweat and his left hand stung, wrapped in a death grip around his vibrating phone. 

Bentley would have preferred if he’d forgotten his birthday entirely, and if the rest of the people around him did the same. He even deleted it from his phone calendar, because that would surely make a difference. He nearly had forgotten it thanks to the repetitive days of quarantine he’d been living over and over for nearly two months.

It wasn’t that he hated his birthday, he just didn’t feel any sort of connection with it. His father never truly celebrated it with him. In fact, Bentley remembered being surprised when Alfred wished him a happy birthday after they’d just met. He couldn’t remember when he’d last heard that, back then. 

Bruce, Alfred, Dick, the rest of the Waynes, and Asten all seemed to understand this viewpoint in their own way. They still insisted on celebrating, because they were them, but there were never any galas thrown in Bentley’s name. Usually it was just whatever dinner he wanted, some form of dessert and candles, and then a few gifts from the rag-tag group he’d come to call family. 

Everything was different now that he and Asten were at school, though.

Things at school were.. questionable at best. The quarantine held strong for over a month, more and more of the Redwood campus being well acquainted with the ceramic tiles in their bathrooms day in and day out. Somehow, Bentley and the rest of his roommates were able to avoid it. For the most part at least — they were all still trying to forget the eight days where Varian was reeling on the floor with a high fever and body aches and terrible, terrible amounts of puke. 

They collectively decided it had to be food poisoning, because if it had been the plague, surely they’d have all gotten it. It was probably due to the fact that their kitchenette was quite literally overflowing with food. Bruce had started sending a package of snacks and things each week, and he was much more used to the metabolisms of a plethora of teenage vigilantes rather than a group of normal — well, as normal as they could be — teenage boys. 

Things were inevitably left out by accident, but they’d all learned to double check expiration dates and question if this warm thing should, in fact, be cold, before putting it in their mouths. Just… maybe he hadn’t?

The Wayne’s came out to the city once, just over a month back. Despite missing them all like they were a lost part of Bentley’s own soul, it felt weird. Uncomfortable. Both he and Asten did their best to avoid the topic of how they were liking school in its entirety, looking to avoid having the Secret Keeper hijacking their words, but it seemed to be all anyone wanted to talk about. 

So they lied. 

None of them even noticed, or not enough to mention it.

It weighed down on the two of them for a while afterwards. Asten didn’t say anything about it, but even their roommates noticed that he seemed bummed out when they came back from lunch with their family. Even Rockie noticed, who Asten still acted like a skittish dog around on some days. Even in the privacy of their own room, they still avoided the topic of conversation. Every now and then they’d wake the other up from a nightmare and just exchange a knowing gaze, doing their best to not acknowledge the knife that was closing in on their throats. The fact that everything seemed to be going and going and they knew there had to be a climax someday… they just didn’t know when.

Bentley scrubbed a hand across his face and lifted his still vibrating phone to his ear, peeling back his blankets in the process. 

His screen was a mess of notifications: three missed calls and two texts from Bruce, thirty six texts in the ‘Wayne Kids + Steph and Babs’ group chat, one text from Nico, and another from Alfred. Three new texts from Dick cycled in, making thirty eight in the group chat. Bruce hadn’t left any voicemails, so Bentley figured it was safe enough territory to tap on the texts first. 

Happy Birthday, chum! I tried to call you a few times, but Asten said you were asleep. Call me later tonight, if you have time. I hope you have a good day. I know you like to keep it lowkey, but I think Dick ordered some stuff to your dorm for you. Sorry.

“Oh no,” Bentley muttered to himself, quickly shuffling to his feet. Dick ordering ‘some’ things could mean anything. His phone went off again. 

Wish you were home to celebrate with us, buddy. I’m glad you’re having a good time with everyone at school, though :). Love you.

The stab of Bruce inviting them back home didn’t pass by him, and he did his best not to twitch at it. Trust me, Dad, he wanted to type, If I had the option to, I would be there. 

It would be fine. He needed to just get dressed, splash some cold water on his face, and move on with his day. It was out of his control, he knew that. No reason in ruining — what his siblings would refer to as — his ‘special day’ over it, right? Besides, he had packages to worry about in the meantime. 

Thank you, I'll try. Quarantine is getting slow. Please take away Dick’s access to your credit card lol. Love you too :) 

He stared at the message for a few moments more, then swiped out of it to reply to all of the others with a deep sigh.

——

Everyone was out in the common area when Bentley made his way out of his room. Asten, Valor, and Varian were in the middle of what seemed to be a very intense battle of finger football at the dining table — a victory cry escaping from Varian as soon as the door shut behind Bentley. 

Bellamy was sitting on the floor with his back against one of the couches, just next to Koa’s feet, occupied by one of the new Nintendo Switch’s they all shared. (Bruce definitely hadn’t sent it from home.) Quarantine was good for some things, and one of those was definitely its ability to bring Bellamy out of his shell. He was still frequently glued to Bentley, but he’d voluntarily come hang out with the group of them more often than not, even when Bentley wasn’t there.

“Morning,” Rockie called a bit louder than necessary, trying to get his voice heard over the thrum of soft music coming from what seemed to be nowhere. He was folded up on the counter holding a mug of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. 

“Good morning,” Bentley murmured back, heading straight for the dorm’s door. He didn’t even know what time the mail came, and usually he wouldn’t care, but these were different circumstances. He wanted to keep things as lowkey as possible, and intercepting whatever Dick sent was the first step. 

When he opened the door, there was nothing there.

“Looking for these?” Koa asked, climbing up from the couch and pointing just out of Bentley's sight line, toward the bay window. “What the hell did you order?” 

“Nothing,” Bentley said automatically, immediately giving himself away. “I mean, I think my dad sent me a few things..” 

“Uh huh, a few.” 

Koa wasn’t lying, there was a lot. Some boxes seemed to just be Bruce’s weekly shipment of snacks and drinks that they absolutely did not need — seeing as the school was providing — but what were they supposed to do, complain about a bunch of food? There were a few boxes of other sizes, along with a couple random mailers. 

“What is it, your birthday?” It was Rockie this time, leering over Bentley’s shoulder. 

Bentley stayed silent, which apparently was enough. 

“Oh, come on dude,” Koa whined with a pout. “You weren’t going to tell us? What if I wanted to throw you a party?” 

“During quarantine...?” He didn’t think anyone would be bothered by him keeping it a secret. 

“Ugh, don’t ruin it. It would have been awesome.” 

Rockie put a gloved hand on Bentley’s shoulder, something that had become familiar over the last few months. “Well? You gonna open them?” 

“I don’t..” 

Koa huffed. He made a show of walking over to the table, where Varian was setting up to flick the paper football over Asten’s fingers. Bentley winced.

He couldn’t hear the words coming from Koa’s mouth, not over the music and Rockie pushing around packages with his feet, but he could see everyone’s eyes darting over to him simultaneously. Even Asten’s, who had already wished him a happy birthday over text. 

There was a chorus of ‘Dude!’’s and “Happy birthday!”s from Varian, Valor, and even Bellamy, the group of them all abandoning their respective games and coming over. 

Reluctantly, after multiple threats of being forced to sit in the half-broken living room chair for the next month if he didn’t, Bentley relented and reached for one. 

As soon as he opened the box, he knew exactly what they would all be doing for the remainder of quarantine — however long that would be. 

Sitting at the top of the box, there was a group of controllers. Just below, a ridiculous limited edition Batman themed PlayStation—one that was specifically made for larger multiplayer capabilities, allowing three more than their current one at home could run.

“Oh no,” Bentley muttered with a faint smile, seeing the hands of his roommates darting towards the box. 

They all seemed to speak in unison. “Oh yes.”

——

The rest of the evening was pretty set in stone after that. The first few minutes were filled with a bit of chaos, everyone digging through the rest of the boxes in search of batteries and then fighting over controllers and seats as soon as they were found. Eventually there was a rotating system in place, which worked well. Most of the time.

Jason and Tim must have been in charge of getting games, because most of them were the ones that they would play with Asten and Bentley back at the manor. Call of Duty, Mario Kart, Minecraft, etc.

Some of the other boxes had birthday decorations, which were hastily slapped around the dorm and would likely be left up for the remainder of the semester.

Damian included a drawing of Titus and Ace in the gardens, which everyone ooh-ed and aah-ed over. Valor asked if they were trained to attack people since they looked ‘scary’. Bentley lied and said no. They would only do it on command, after all.

Something about the screeching of all of his roommates paired with the pops and clashes coming from the games reminded Bentley a lot of home — both of playing things with his siblings but also just being there. It was rarely quiet in Wayne manor, whether it was three in the morning or three in the afternoon. The longer quarantine went on, and the more and more comfortable they got with each other, the dorm seemed to become the same way—buzzing with life and the warmth of familiarity.

As much as he didn’t want to believe it, things were good. He had friends, amazing friends, more of them than he could have dreamed of only a few months ago. Asten was there, and the two of them had been able to weather every storm that had made its way through so far. Hopefully, maybe, when the next one came, they could do it again.

They played video games until it was dark again, and had taken a quick break to eat the dinner the school provided. Varian put candles that Dick had sent into some random little Debbie thing that was probably out of date and declared it Bentley’s birthday cake. He found that he didn’t really mind to blow it out and make everybody happy.

For the first time in a long time, at four a.m. the morning after his fourteenth birthday, Bentley went to bed feeling really, really… good.

--

tag list that KINDA works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: ANGSTTTTTTT

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

IM SO SORRY BUT DONT TELL ME YOU DIDN'T SEE IT COMING

part forty-seven

❝ TRAITOR ❞

WEDNESDAY — OCTOBER 19 — 7:09PM

“BENTLEY, WAKE UP!” He barely heard the telltale voice of Charlie in his subconscious. “You don’t have time for this… she has your location, and they’re coming!” 

“Bentley!” Came a different voice. A familiar one. One that was real, coming into his ears, piercing his skull with a stab of pain. He swore he felt someone touching him. Well, he could’ve swore, if he were coherent, which he was pretty sure he wasn’t. “Bentley, c’mon. Wake up, buddy.”

“Carry him,” Someone else’s voice came.

That’s about when Bentley’s body decided to kick back on, and the absolute exhaustion and misery that he was embodying came flooding back. Every single fiber of his being seemed to hurt after Titus’s teleportation, and he was so tired and so run-down he felt like he could die if he wanted to.

Instead of letting himself do that, though, he forced himself back into the land of the living with a miserable groan.

“Hey, buddy. You’re okay,” Someone was touching him — there was a hand on his forehead; it was gentle, and cold, and didn’t feel like skin at all, but he reveled in the touch nonetheless. 

He forced his eyes to open, the Redwood Academy ceiling swirling and swimming in his vision, light fixtures spinning and twirling around each other before they finally came to rest in their rightful places. Rockie’s face was hovering above him — he guessed that explained the hand on his forehead not feeling like a hand at all.

“He’s waking up,” Rockie called to someone behind him.

Bentley went to sit up, but it just made his head spin with a few harsh throbs of pain, and he winced. Rockie’s gentle hand found the small of his back and guided him up the rest of the way, rubbing lightly across the back of his shoulders. “Easy.”

Bentley blinked a few times as the world went out of focus and came back again. They seemed to be in a dorm building hallway. It was lined with carpet on the floor and wainscoting on the walls, with extravagant light fixtures and all the luxurious things it always had.

Bentley’s eyes flicked across the various figures that were spread around said hallway. Rockie was next to him, rubbing his back lightly, and a few yards ahead of him was Varian sitting on the floor, conscious, with his head dipped down between his knees. Valor was next to him, wings still synched, still covered in blood, squeezing Varian’s shoulders repetitively. He was speaking softly but Bentley couldn’t tell what he was saying.

Sitting against one of the wainscoted walls was Koa, legs tucked in with the muzzle still synched tight to his face. His eyes were still brimming with tears that fell sometimes, settling on the top of the metal that was covering his mouth and nose. A few feet away from him, against the same wall was Asten, lips still blue, still shivering, arms wrapped so tight around himself passersby would probably expect him to fall apart if he unraveled them.

Titus was gone.

Something cold and mean seemed to surface in Bentley’s chest — something like guilt. Something that said this was all his fault. He tried to push it away, but he couldn’t, tried to clear his mind, but it didn’t work, and the distant whooshing of water and bump bump of pumping blood filled his ears.

Wait… the sound of… water?

“Our powers,” He muttered, glancing up at his counterparts with a deep breath in an attempt to right himself. “We can use them now.”

Valor was the first one that seemed to comprehend what he’d said, and with a quiet grunt of effort, the wires around his wings snapped with a soft sound. He stretched them out widely, now nearly solid crimson instead of platinum, and Bentley didn’t miss the way his face twisted in agony when he did. Would he even be able to fly? 

Asten was the second, who’s hands immediately lit on fire so hot and bright that the residual heat sort of burned even from across the hallway. Koa jumped to move away from him so his clothes didn’t spontaneously combust.

“We’re on our floor,” Valor stated, still squeezing at Varian’s shoulders, glancing over at Bentley. “We just have to grab Bellamy and then get the hell out of here.”

Bentley nodded, forcing himself unsteadily off the floor. Which was actually a terrible idea, because the horrendous spinning vertigo came back, and he stumbled rather gracelessly — the only reason he didn’t hit the floor was because he fell directly into Rockie, who was quick to put his arms around him.

“Hey, take it easy for a minute, okay?” Rockie muttered, rubbing his back a little. “You did it, Bentley. You got us out. You can take a minute to breathe.”

It was excruciatingly tempting for Bentley to, like, pass flat back out, but he didn’t let himself. He pushed Rockie away with a grimace. “We can’t, they’re coming.”

Rockie’s expression twisted into one of alarm. “What?”

“They’re coming,” Bentley repeated.

And as if his words were a very, very unfortunate queue, the door to the staircase that was only a few mere yards to their left slammed open with a loud wham, and people in white armor came flooding into the hallway, maybe ten, maybe fifty. Bentley spotted the large black guns they had clasped tightly in their hands, and-

“Oh shit!”

Bentley threw his hand up as soon as he saw them, and water came gushing out from beneath at least half a dozen dorm room doors, building up between them and the men like a wall in a split second. The deafening bang! Bang! Bang! Of firearms came, maybe fifteen or twenty shots. The bullets flew full-speed into the wall of water and never came out the other side.

“Go! Go! Go!”

Bentley felt Rockie grab his shoulder and jerk him down the hallway, his mind staying strangely absent as he focused solely on keeping the wall up between his friends and the guns. He felt someone else grab his arm, someone cold. Six pairs of shoes thundered down the mahogany-lined halls of Redwood Academy like a herd of horses.

Like he was living some kind of deja vu fever dream, he realized Asten was dragging him down the hall as fast as he could, which was too fast for Bentley’s legs with his mind so absent, which meant he was stumbling all over himself, just like he was in the woods when they were running from Dr. Keene-

They seemed to literally crash through the door of their dorm, each of them filing in as fast as they could. Bentley and Asten were first — then Varian, who looked half dead and was bawling his eyeballs out, being shoved through the door by Koa, who was also bawling his eyeballs out, followed by the final two — Rockie, who looked pissed, and Valor, whose crimson eagle wings were twitching angrily on his back like he was getting ready to fight someone. As soon as they were in, Asten (and Valor, and Rockie) slammed the door shut and held their weight against it.

Bentley released the wall of water and heard it fall, flooding the hall outside with an inch or two of water. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t do much more than stand in the middle of the dorm blankly.

They were going to die. They were going to die.

“How the bloody hell are we going to get out of here?!” Valor shouted. Bentley heard the weight of people slam into the other side of the door, knocking all three of his friends off balance. “We’re on the sixth floor!”

Bentley turned his head, eyes catching on Varian and Koa, who were standing off to the side of the room. The metal muzzle on the latter’s face was rubbing at his skin and making it raw — Varian, now forced into coherent-ness by the chaos — was trying his hardest to get it off, but it was so tight and immovable that messing with it just seemed to cause pain. There was a sudden crack! of electricity, and Koa’s whole body seemed to writhe. He stumbled back against the wall and slid down into the floor, threatening to lose consciousness completely, the only thing really keeping his eyes from closing being Varian’s constant, panicky touching of the thing on his face. They were both still crying, though Varian was a bit more frantic.

Valor broke away from Rockie and Asten and left them to hold the door, his giant wings gusting air around the dorm as he used all of his super strength to drag one of the couches over to barcade it. Then the second couch, then some shelves, then he came out of his and Rockie’s room dragging an entire wardrobe behind him. Then the bunk beds.

And all Bentley could make himself do was stand there.

“Bentley,” Rockie said. Bentley turned, locking eyes with him, brown on inhuman green. Focus. Focus. Rockie was helping maneuver the furniture against the door with Asten and Valor, but he pointed at Bellamy’s bedroom door. “Go get Bell. Put some water at the bottom of the window that’s deep enough for us to land in. We’ve gotta go that way.”

Orders. Orders. Bentley could follow orders.

He turned, scanning the living and dining and kitchen areas, listening close. He heard everyone’s heartbeats, slamming and pounding in their chests, their blood pumping at an extraordinarily heightened rate. 

And then something else joined the heartbeats — something thin and quick. 

Tears. From Bellamy’s bedroom.

Bentley hurried in there, throwing the door open and glancing around the room. The beds were empty, the bathroom was empty, everything was empty and-

He turned on impulse, glancing at the wardrobe settled against the wall near the door.

Bentley made his way over to it and grabbed the knobs, but stopped. If he was hiding in there, would he want the doors ripped open? With a clear of his throat, Bentley knocked on the wardrobe. “Bell? It’s Bentley. I’m going to open the doors.”

Bellamy said nothing, so Bentley slowly opened the wardrobe one door at a time.

Bellamy, in his tiny eleven-year-old stature, was curled up in the bottom of the wardrobe, legs tucked in tight, head buried in his knees. He was wheezing and hiccuping more than breathing, and Bentley could see the little blue blanket clutched in his hands that he hadn’t needed to sleep with in a while.

Bentley crouched down in front of him. “Hey, Bell.”

His brown eyes only appeared for a second, red and watery.

“Bentley,” Bellamy sobbed, all but shooting out of the wardrobe and colliding with Bentley so hard he fell backwards onto his butt with a thud.

Bentley brought his hand up to rest on the back of his head, synching the other tight around his back as a burn threatened to surface in his own eyes. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Bellamy only seemed to cry harder at the embrace, digging his head down into Bentley’s shoulder. He was trembling almost uncontrollably, holding onto Bentley in an absolute death grip that was so tight it sort of hurt. “Please don’t let them take me back, Bentley, I don’t wanna go back, please, I don’t wanna go back-“

“Hey, hey, no one’s taking you anywhere,” Bentley replied, rubbing his back. What did Bellamy mean, he didn’t want to go back? “We’re leaving the school. We’re getting out of here.”

“Bentley, we gotta go!” Rockie shouted from the other room.

With a wince of sympathy, Bentley went about slowly attempting to peel Bellamy off of him. “We have to go, okay? The others are waiting for us.”

Bentley managed to unravel Bellamy’s arms from himself just enough to stand. He made his way back to the living area with Bellamy’s tiny hands balled in the back of his t-shirt for dear life, his quiet sobs still assaulting Bentley's ears and making him want to kill people. 

“Bentley, the water,” Asten reminded him. They were still shoving stuff against the door, and Varian was still trying to pull the muzzle off of Koa’s face.

Bentley closed his eyes in deep concentration, listening to the water in the pipes of the building. Not three seconds later, gallon after gallon of water started pouring out of the dorm room’s adjacent bathrooms, crawling toward the window like snakes and forcing itself through the cracks and crevices to make a pool on the ground below.

Bentley exhaled heavily, forcing himself to keep breathing, reaching back and grabbing onto Bellamy’s arms. “Okay. Okay. Let’s go look out the window and see if the water is doing what it’s supposed to, okay?”

Bellamy didn’t have much of a response to that besides his incomprehensible sobbing, but he did move when Bentley moved, which was fine. They shimmied over to the bay window and looked out of it, in a feeble attempt to calm both of their nerves. 

It didn’t work. It didn’t work because, if Bentley squinted, he could’ve swore he saw… people, out there in the nighttime darkness. People in white. Staring at the water running from their dorm window.

“Guys…?” Bentley tried, glancing back at everyone else momentarily. “They’re outside. We’re trapped.”

“What?”

“What?!”

Valor and Rockie and Asten all simultaneously moved, jogging over as though they needed to see for themselves. Valor was the first to make it, though, grey irises traveling across the figures outside with a quiet: “Shit.”

A loud bang came from the dorm door, and everybody turned to look at it. 

All the furniture that they had stacked in front of it shifted from the force of whoever was on the other side. Rockie lurched forward and grabbed Varian and Koa by the arms, pulling them — one on his feet, the other across the floor — toward the bay window where they were all standing.

With a bang and a crack, more of the furniture moved, the crack in the door growing wider.

“We’re going to die,” Bellamy sobbed, his vice-grip still tight around Bentley’s waist. “We’re going to die.”

The banging came twice more, and an arm came through the crack in the door. Then a leg. Bellamy buried his face in the back of Bentley’s shirt, and Bentley reached back, ensuring that he was fully behind him. Asten suddenly settled in front of him, doing quite literally the same thing to make sure Bentley was behind him. Koa, who was now standing to Bentley’s right, stepped backwards, nearly falling into him after stumbling over a torn down curtain rod. Silent tears were rolling down his face and settling against the muzzle that had been manhandled onto him. He had a death grip on Varian’s wrists, who he also forced to stand behind him just like Asten had done.

Rockie was the only person on Bentley’s left side, and slightly in front of them, looking ready to kill, and Valor took up a spot in front of all six of his roommates. He extended his crimson wings out with a pained wince, wide like a shield.

With a deafening crack, all the furniture shifted, the door opened, and people in white armor started pouring through the door.

(They were going to die.)

Bentley held tight to Bellamy’s arms as the chaos ensued. There was a gunshot, and Valor’s right wing flinched and curled slightly inward, though it didn’t move from it's place in front of them. Asten snapped his fingers by his side, and one of the men with guns' entire body burst into flames. He did it again, and then a third, and then a fourth until there were almost half a dozen burning humans staggering around their dorm. A few more spilled through the door, but a myriad of purple crystals sprung up from the floor, spiking harshly through boots and into legs and some even high enough to pierce torsos, leaving the entrance to their dorm nothing but red.

“Turn on the EM for dorm one-seventy-four!” Bentley heard someone yell amongst the chaos.

Suddenly, the same wave of sudden weakness washed over them all that Bentley had felt in the facility. He failed to suppress a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whine, the sudden loss of strength making his already weak body practically beg for him to pass out already. He vaguely heard a thump from near him, signaling that someone had fallen, and he felt Bellamy’s arms tighten around his torso with an alarmed: “Bentley?!”

Black and multicolored dots came and danced in his vision, threatening to sweep him away. He saw Asten sway just a little where he stood, but it wasn’t clear how much, because the room was still spinning.

“Please don’t pass out,” He heard Bellamy mumble from behind him, a few dreadful sobs ripping up and out of his throat. 

So Bentley didn’t.

He forced himself to stay awake and upright, glancing to his right. It was Varian who’d passed out again. Koa was now sitting on the floor with his back toward all the men, and he’d gathered Varian up in his arms to keep him out of view from the men with guns. Nothing in the dorm was on fire anymore, but more men in white came in to drag the blackened and burned and impaled ones out, a few more settling near the door with their guns aimed directly at the seven of them.

“Don’t shoot them, you idiots, we need them alive! Move out of my way,” A voice came — the same voice that had called for the EM field to be turned on. Bentley watched as a man forced himself through the door in a white hazmat suit, one with a black visor over his face so they couldn’t see who it was. His voice sounded… sort of familiar, though.

“Activate lockdown protocol for this dorm,” He called to someone in the hallway. Not two seconds later, sounds like machines in the walls started to ring through the dorm. Then he turned back toward Bentley and his roommates. “A2, come on.”

Bentley pinched his eyebrows together when the man continued to look directly at them, like he was speaking to one of them. The black visor over his face kept Bentley from seeing who his eyes were on.

None of them moved.

The man stepped forward again. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown… attached,” He said with almost a solemn tone about him. “I knew this was bound to happen, but no matter.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Valor was brave enough to ask.

The man in the suit ignored him. “You completed your assignment. You finished it, you did a good job. Now it’s time to come home. You can’t truly tell me you’d rather stay here than with the people who raised you, can you?”

Bentley glanced over at Koa and Varian. Koa was paying the man no mind, still holding tight to Varian, keeping him out of sight. Bellamy’s death grip on Bentley never wavered. He glanced over at Rockie, who was flexing and balling up his hands in his gloves, and then at Valor, whose wings were still spread wide ahead of them.

“Come on, A2. You knew from the beginning that this wasn’t going to last. Come on, son,” The man held his hand out toward them. “You did good, and for that, you are to be rewarded.”

Not even a minuscule piece of dust moved.

The man tilted his head. “You know the alternative if you disobey.”

Silence ensued.

And then one of them moved. 

Bentley could’ve thrown up when Rockie gently pushed past Valor’s left wing, slowly making his way across the room like an injured animal going back to it's owner after being lost for a long time. 

“Rockie?” He found his mouth moving without his consent, and Asten reached backwards, grabbing onto his shirt as if telling him not to say anything.

“Don’t bother,” Valor muttered from in front of them, something laced into his words that Bentley couldn’t identify. “He’s one of them.”

Bentley’s eyes drifted back to Rockie, who finally came to a stop in front of the man in the hazmat suit. Bentley could see him trembling in the slightest.

“There, there,” The man reached forward and rested a gentle hand on the side of Rockie’s head, and he seemed to cave to the touch faster than Bentley had ever seen him cave to anything, subtly turning his head into the contact. “This was how it was going to be no matter what. I only wish you weren't hurting because of it.”

Bentley and all six of his remaining roommates looked on in silence, various expressions across the their faces at the prospect of Rockie being…

A bad guy?

Bentley, in particular, found himself starting to cry, clutching at Bellamy’s arms in a meager attempt to comfort himself.

How was Rockie… a… Bentley thought he knew him really well? Obviously he didn’t know everything, but he thought they were close, because he was allowed to go places and hang out with him at his worst times. Rockie had never done anything to hurt them — it was the same kid who made Bentley walk on the inside of the sidewalk when they went to town. Bentley could’ve sworn on his life that he could never hurt them. 

He guessed he was wrong. 

The world blurred through the tears that were threatening to slide down his face. All six of them were silent as the man in the hazmat suit quickly embraced Rockie, soothingly patting a gloved hand on the back of his head for a split second before he shrugged the teenager off, guiding him into the hands of a man in white armor with a gun.

“Take him down to his room, give him the reward I prepared for him. It’s sitting in my office,” The man ordered. “If you do anything of ill intent to him, I will kill and send your severed head to your mother’s house.”

The one of the guys in armor nodded and grabbed Rockie’s arm, tugging him toward the door.

The last thing Bentley saw — and would probably ever see — of Rockie Winchester was his inhumanly green eyes, filled to the brim with crystal clear tears. Even through the watery haze, Bentley understood the words behind the desperate look he sent his way before he was dragged out of sight.

I’m so sorry.

Bentley was unable to stifle the soft sob that forced it's way out of him. Bellamy’s arms synched even tighter around his middle, and Asten’s hands twisted up in his shirt, both attempting to give him a measly little semblance of comfort.

“Ah, yes,” The man sighed. “The sting of learning a friend wasn’t really a friend at all. I do wish it didn’t hurt, you know. He wasn’t supposed to get close to you.”

“Why don’t you just fuck off?” Valor snapped. That’s when Bentley seemed to remember that he was Rockie’s best friend, and that he must’ve been taking this way worse than he was.

“Unfortunately for you, Rockie wasn’t the only one of your roommates who’s a double agent,” The man snickered. “In fact, his only role was to watch over the other. E9, come on, we’re leaving.”

Bentley could’ve swore the color started to drain from the world around him. He sent quick glances to Koa, and Varian, and Valor, but none of them seemed keen to move. 

Bellamy tightened his arms around Bentley and buried his face in his shirt with a sob so heart-wrenching it probably hurt.

And that’s when everything seemed to click into place.

Please don’t let them take me back, Bentley, I don’t wanna go back-

The man sighed in distaste, his partiality toward Rockie obviously not shared for Bellamy. He turned toward his men (that seemed to be multiplying, as there were always at least three behind him.) with a flick of his hand. “Nuke them, take E9 to his cell for punishment. When you’re done put this dorm on full lockdown. No one gets in or out.”

And with that, the hazmat suit man left, leaving the men with guns in their dorm with them.

Valor moved forward, to do what, Bentley wasn’t sure. In a flash it was over, because there was another gunshot and blood spurted from his left wing, and he promptly stopped whatever he was doing.

Something clattered in the floor next to Bentley’s feet. Something round, and metal. He glanced down at it and shuffled away in a panic, only to realize it was a-

Grenade?!

Someone fumbled for it. Bentley didn’t even realize that Koa had it in his hand until he’d lobbed it back in the direction of the armored men.

It went off beside Bentley and Asten’s heads.

There was a flash of blinding light, and a pain so severe Bentley immediately hit the floor before he could even think. His muscles were convulsing without his permission, spasming, almost, and whatever it was had him writhing on the hardwood in sheer agony, like he was on fire. He felt Bellamy and Asten’s hands slip away from him in the chaos. Something was crackling and popping around them, making his hair stand on end, and that’s when he realized they’d all been electrocuted.

He peeled his eyes open through the searing pain, catching sight of Asten and Valor on the floor ahead of him. He tried to move but his muscles weren’t listening. 

“Be—ntley,” Came Bellamy’s broken voice from next to him, on the floor. He felt someone weakly grab onto his shirt, but he couldn’t find it in himself to move.

Boots thudded up to them — white boots, and the footsteps sounded like bombs when compared to everything else Bentley couldn’t hear. 

They did something behind him. Bentley felt the hand get tugged away from him, and a mere second later, they were dragging Bellamy past him, crying and all, by the scruff of his shirt.

“Bentley!” He shouted, with more alarm, but it was difficult for him to move, difficult for anyone to move. Bentley reached out and just managed to brush the tip of his sock before he was dragged away, out into the hall. The dorm door shut, and a loud sound came — like a lock on a bank’s massive safe. One, two, three, four more came, lock after lock, and a few loud slams came from behind them, the windows.

Bentley wasn't sure how long he laid there, writhing and convulsing from the electricity, but he did know that Valor was the first one that was able to force himself up. As soon as his body was online enough, he went about slamming himself against the door, trying to break it open.

Koa was the second to force himself off the floor, quietly tending to Varian with silent tears streaming down his face, and Asten was the third.

He spun around, shaking out his hands and twitching in a strange sort of way that let Bentley know his muscles were still spasming. But nonetheless, he reached for Bentley and pulled him into his lap.

"Bentley, tell me you're okay," He muttered, sort of grappling at Bentley's clothes in an attempt to get him closer. The movement sent a small ripple of fire through Bentley's muscles when he tried to move them.

Rockie was bad, and Bellamy was...

Bellamy was gone.

The one person Bentley had sworn he'd protect with every single fiber of his being had slipped away in a mere moment, shouting his name, even.

Bentley brought his hands up as far as he could dare, latching onto whatever he could. He balled up the fabric of Asten's jumpsuit in his hands and pulled his knees up so he was nothing more than a heap of limbs indistinguishable from Asten's own, and he cried so hard he thought my might vomit.

He thought he'd saved them all...

But he'd really just killed Bellamy.

--

tag list that KINDA works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy @bookwarm0-0

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

maccreadysbaby is back to torture one of her children because its the only thing she's good at

part thirty-seven

❝ AS GOOD AS DEAD ❞

MONDAY — AUGUST 6 — 9:10AM

“-AYNE. Wake the hell up,”

Bentley blinked his bleary eyes open, groaning lightly as the world around him swam back into focus. The first thing he recognized was the wood-lined ceiling of a Redwood Academy hallway staring down at him, an extravagant light fixture hanging just above his head. The second was the burning pain that was searing around each of his wrists like rope burn, and that his throat felt like someone had skinned the inside with sandpaper.

And the third thing he recognized… was Tyler Abbott’s worried face hovering above his head, looking down at him like he’d been stabbed.

Bentley did a double take, blinking a few times and glancing around the hallway in an attempt to gather his bearings. The blood that Tyler had bled was still all over the floor a few yards away, but there was a little bit pooling under each of his own wrists, too, where the vines had rubbed them raw. His backpack was lying next to him. He’d hoped that the lack of oxygen was making him hallucinate, but apparently not, because he looked back over at the person beside him and Tyler Abbott was still there.

And he looked like he’d been…

Crying?

“What the hell did you do to me?” He asked, a hint of something like fear in his voice, fiddling anxiously with his hands. “You didn’t tell me you were a freaking telepath.”

Bentley blinked a few times, trying to comprehend the words that were flying at him way too soon after he’d woken up. Tyler called him a telepath — wasn’t that what Vera was, where she could read other people’s minds? Talk to them there?

He pushed himself upright and opened his mouth to tell Tyler he wasn’t one of those, but the only thing that came out was a weird rasp, and a burning pain flared all the way up and down his esophagus like someone had set it on fire. He winced in response and brought a hand up to rest on his neck. He thought about signing to him, but when it dawned on him that Tyler Abbott definitely didn’t know ASL, he just didn’t do anything.

Tyler suddenly flinched and looked over his shoulder like something was there, but the hallway was empty. “Look, I’m sorry, please, please make it stop.”

Bentley couldn’t do anything but furrow his brows at him. He briefly sighed I’m not doing anything anyways, on the off chance Tyler actually did know sign.

“I don’t know sign language- oh my God!” He suddenly threw a hand out to the side like he was trying to hit something that wasn’t really there, his eyes watering up again, and Bentley flinched at the sudden outburst. “Okay. You got me good, now please stop.”

Bentley reached for his backpack, wincing when even turning his head hurt his throat, unzipping it quickly and fishing a random piece of paper and pen out of it. He quickly scribbled I’m not a telepath, I’m not doing anything across the sheet and shoved it in Tyler’s direction.

He took one glance at the paper and then looked up at Bentley, looking incredibly confused and afraid. “You’re… not? But there-there’s a girl, she told me to leave you alone, she… keeps talking to me-“

Bentley blinked a few times. Then he snatched the paper back and wrote across it: Vera?

Tyler shook his head before Bentley had even written the whole thing. “No. She… her mouth… it’s all screwed up…”

Her mouth. 

As far as Bentley knew, Vera could only read minds and speak in them. The only telepath Bentley knew of that could make people hallucinate, and had a screwed up mouth was…

The Secret Keeper.

Bentley breathed in and wrote another name across the page, sliding it back to him.

Charlie?

“I don’t know her name!” He replied, and Bentley felt sort of conflicted when Tyler started crying. Part of him sort of liked it, thought he deserved it, and part of him felt… bad. “She told me to let you go, so just go!”

Bentley said nothing, but slowly pushed himself off the floor, his previous lightheadedness making black dots bounce around in his vision for a second before it cleared again. If he left, would she leave Tyler alone? 

Bentley took one last look at Tyler (Who was just sitting on the floor crying), pulled his blazer sleeves over his bleeding wrists and gathered this things, then left the building.

If it really was her… why was she defending him?

Luckily, Bentley didn’t have to speak to anyone as he traversed the campus toward his art classroom. Not that he could’ve, anyway, with his throat and how utterly confused he was.

The Secret Keeper had literally tried to kill him several times, and now she was telling his bully to leave him alone? The supervillain who’d murdered countless people, who had a personal vendetta against Bentley and loved to see him tortured and terrified and injured and defenseless?

What kind of sense did that make?

None, Bentley concluded. It made no sense at all.

He got a text from Koa on his way to class — asking if he was okay. He said yes. It was only a few minutes before class was supposed to start, which meant Bentley hadn’t actually been knocked out for that long. Maybe a minute or two at most.

When he finally made it to the art classroom, skillfully avoiding everybody in the halls, he stopped just outside the door and texted Summer.

Can you come in the hall? I need you. And then a second later: Don’t tell Koa.

Bentley watched her typing bubble pop up for a few seconds, then go away again. 

Then the classroom door opened and she stepped out without a word, closing it behind her. Her brown eyes quickly scanned the hallway and landed on him, moving across his frame methodically like she was checking for injuries, brushing her dirty blonde hair over her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

Bentley opened his mouth to talk, but again, all that came out was a rasp, and terrible pain radiated throughout his throat.

Summer, upon seeing his obvious discomfort, reached forward and touched his arm, getting this calculative look on her face.

Right. All she had to do was touch him to see what was wrong.

“What happened?” She asked, bringing her hands up to rest on either side of his neck. That same cold tingly feeling blossomed under them that he felt the first time she’d healed him — after Tyler punched him. The fiery pain immediately started to flee at her touch. 

“It doesn’t matter,” He replied, swallowing thickly now that it didn’t feel like he was drinking boiling water. 

“Koa told me Tyler wanted to talk to you,” She continued, flicking an accusatory glance up at him. Bentley didn’t look at her.

She didn’t press any more, just reached down and grabbed one of his arms, pushing his sleeve up so she could see the damage. “Your sleeves are all bloody.”

“That’s fine,” He muttered. Summer didn’t reply, but she closed her hands around his wrist, and once the cold feeling had come and gone, it was good as new. She did the same to the other without saying anything else.

“There you go. Good as new,” She smiled faintly. Bentley didn’t say anything, so her smile slowly faded. “You know you can tell me anything, if you need to talk... I don’t gossip.”

Bentley shrugged, glancing up at her, then back down at his shoes. “Just Tyler being Tyler. It isn’t a big deal.”

Summer didn’t say anything for a minute, just sort of looked at him. “You’ve been getting quieter and more distanced as school has gone on. Are you… okay, Bentley?”

Bentley said nothing. He was so not okay that he wasn’t even sure he could talk about it without having some kind of emotional breakdown. School and making sure he passed all his classes and remembered all his homework was stressful enough to make him wanna cry on a bad day. That, plus the fact he had Tyler on his case, who was okay with literally torturing him, made school pretty much a full seven or eight or however many hours of overwhelming and unbridled anxiety.

Then, he added the Secret Keeper on top of that, who would probably try to murder him at the earliest convenience, and everything she brought along: nightmares, visions, voices, and the constant need to look over his shoulder or count his fingers. Plus the fact that his roommates were dealing with it, too…

And that he was feeling more homesick and lonely than ever… but he couldn’t talk to them. Couldn’t tell them what was going on or get their advice, their comfort. It was like there was a door between him and his family, and it was completely locked with no key in sight. Was he partly to blame? Sure. He was the one who decided to keep secrets and lie… but when it came to the super serious stuff, he’d tried to tell them, and…

And like a cherry on top of the cake, the one person at school that he was closest to, that was his family, his brother, didn’t want to talk to him.

Not to mention all the little things, like that he knew Georgia was cheating, or that Rockie had depression medicine, or that Chloe was being manipulated and controlled by her own mother… all the things that shouldn’t stress him out because it wasn’t his business but did anyways.

So, was Bentley okay? Absolutely not. 

But what did he say?

“Mhm,”

That was about all he could muster without bursting into tears like the pathetic little baby he was, so that’s what he left it at. Summer didn’t look very convinced, but she didn’t push him anymore, either.

“Okay,” Was what she settled on, her brown eyes bouncing across his face, taking in what seemed to be every inch of his expression like Nico used to. Bentley still wasn’t sure why he did that. “I just want you to be alright, is all.”

Bentley nodded. “I’m alright, Summer.”

Finally, she nodded. “Okay. You can head into class first. I’ll go to the bathroom or something so it isn’t obvious we were together.”

“Okay,” Bentley replied. “And… thanks. Again. Third time.”

“No problem,” She smiled faintly. “All you have to do is say the word and I’m on my way.”

Bentley smiled lightly as she continued down the hallway, toward the bathrooms.

As soon as he was out of her line of sight, he sighed deeply, rubbing at his eyes and shaking his head in an attempt to clear it.

He’d said it himself: he was alright.

So he shoved everything down into the depths of wherever he shoved feelings into, and walked into class, and was alright.

—

And so he was alright for the rest of the day.

He made it through his classes without a hitch — the only person who knew about him getting hurt was Summer, and none of his roommates really suspected a thing. He kept his bloody sleeves hidden until after classes were over, when he changed out of his uniform and into clothes to practice with Koa and Varian in. He made sure to shove his bloody blazer and shirt into the very bottom of the laundry so no one would find them.

“You missed again, Var! If I was the coach, I’d be giving you a lap!” Koa called, jogging off the soccer field to grab the ball that had just missed the goal by mere inches. It was sort of cloudy out, which was kind of nice because it kept some of the heat off of the three of them. 

Bentley was doing a really good job acting alright, if he did say so himself. Nobody had asked him if he was alright besides Summer all day long… which was good in his books.

He, Koa, and Varian were spread out in a triangle across the soccer field, and had been shooting goals and running drills for the better part of two hours. Bentley was already a whole lot better than he’d started out -- soccer tryouts were in just a few weeks, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to do it or not, but he was definitely getting there if so. Koa had been explaining the game to him piece by piece, position by position, over the last few weeks; to the point where he could watch a soccer game and know what was going on -- a far cry from where he had been when he arrived at the academy.

The fact that he was actually doing good, and that he had to think about soccer and nothing else in order to succeed at practicing, made it one of his favorite parts of the day. It was one of the only times he didn’t have something eating away at his psyche.

Koa kicked the ball back into the field, toward Bentley’s feet, so he quickly caught it and passed it to Varian, who passed it back to Koa, who shot it in the goal.

“Nice!” Was what Koa called over his shoulder as he went to get the ball. He fished it out of the goal and shouted: “Var!” Before he kicked it in his direction, and-

Varian didn’t even move, and the ball flew right past him.

Bentley creased his brow and squinted across the field at him. Varian was so full of energy and quick on his feet that he usually never missed passes or shots — when it came to soccer, he had the pinpoint accuracy of a professional archer. And Bentley would be lying if he said the sudden deterioration of his ability to catch or shoot anything in the last ten minutes wasn’t freaking him out just a little bit.

Koa let out an exasperated sigh, tossing his hands out to the side. “What’s going on, dude? Are you going low?”

Varian didn’t say anything. Bentley squinted and took a few steps closer, trying to pinpoint the expression on his face from across the field, but then he turned away from them for some reason. 

Koa started to walk over there, so Bentley did, too — but they hardly made it three steps before Varian started closing in on himself at an alarming rate, doubling all the way over until he had to crouch and brace one arm on the ground, looking like he might pass flat out.

Koa and Bentley both broke into a sprint immediately. All the worst things that might’ve been going on (THE SECRET KEEPER) flashed through Bentley’s mind and spurred him onward, across the field in a flash.

If it really was her, what could he do to help him? Oh God, it was totally her. What else would it be? She got bored of torturing Bentley and Bellamy and Rockie so now she had to move on to someone new just to get a kick out of their terror and-

On their arrival, Koa immediately grabbed Varian by the shoulders to keep him upright, with a quick: “Hey, what’s wrong?” He dug the little machine out from under Varian’s sleeve, and Bentley decided that had to be what it was, but the screen had the number one-hundred-nineteen on it and he knew that number was considered…

“Your blood sugar is good,” Koa continued, kneeling down on the left side of Varian, trying to catch his eyes. “Tell me what’s going on, Var.”

Bentley moved so he was on the other side of him, crouching down to his height. Varian’s eyes were shut tightly, his face screwed up in very obvious pain. He was breathing deep through his mouth, looking pale and shaky and not okay — like one wrong move would knock him straight out. He hadn’t been like that ten minutes ago. He’d been fine.

Bentley brushed his hair off of his forehead and rested his hand there, cringing deeply at the sheer amount of heat that came off of his skin. “He’s burning up.”

Koa shook his head, reaching forward feeling the  temperature for himself. “What’s going on, V? Are you lightheaded?”

Varian shook his head no. His whole body seemed to tense and go rigid for some reason, and his arms gave out beneath him and he fell into Bentley’s side, knocking him back on the ground, too.

Bentley managed (through his panic, which was ramping up at a very steady pace.) to grab Varian and keep him off the grass by situating his upper body in his lap. He coiled up, wrapping his arms around himself and tucking his knees in so tight he probably couldn’t curl up more if he wanted to.

“It hurts,” He gritted out, a certain thickness in his voice that Bentley recognized as biting back pain induced tears.

Koa was quick to start checking things, hands bouncing to various places across Varian’s trembling frame. “Where?”

“Everywhere,”

Bentley would be lying if he said he wasn’t starting to panic a little. Didn’t Chloe say something about pain and burning in your muscles being a main symptom of the sickness? That had to be what this was, didn’t it? Or was something else wrong with him? Or was it her?

Koa exhaled heavily. “I’m calling Valor.”

Bentley glanced up at him, a questioning look crossing his face. “Valor? Shouldn’t he go to the nurse?”

“He can’t,” Koa replied, rising and jogging toward their bags across the field, where their phones were. “He gets scared. Last time he went to the nurse he almost killed her.”

Bentley looked back down at Varian when he made a choked sound. He thought he was gonna throw up, because Chloe said she and her roommates couldn’t stop throwing up, but fortunately for Bentley and his lap, he wasn’t.

Unfortunately, the sound was him starting to cry.

He… hadn’t seen Varian cry since he moved in.

Bentley reached down and did just about the only thing he was prepared to do when someone started crying — he raked a hand through his hair. How in the world had this come on so quickly? Varian had been fine not fifteen minutes ago, before he started missing shots and stuff, but now he couldn’t even get off the ground.

Koa came jogging back over looking down at his phone, kneeling again by Varian’s side and rubbing his back attentively. “Valor’s coming, buddy. He’s bringing Summer.”

(The seven of them were giving her a full time job, weren’t they?)

“Ya dumayu, chto umirayu,” (I think I’m dying.) Varian forced out, between deep sobs that worked to do nothing more than break Bentley’s heart. He wished he knew what he was saying — it always freaked him out when one of them started talking in their first language. When Asten did it, he was either terribly upset, or in horrible pain. 

Bentley had a guess as to which one Varian was.

Koa shared a worried glance with him, their eyes lingering on one another for a few moments, asking the same question: How did he go from acting just a little off to sobbing in pain in just a ten minute window?

Their full attention remained on Varian until the beating of loud wings pierced the air.

If Bentley wasn’t so freaked out, he might’ve had more of a reaction to seeing Valor flying through the air with his giant platinum wings. It looked like something out of a storybook -- his wings looked ten times bigger in the air and ten times brighter with the sun shining on them, even through the overcast clouds, and he had Summer in his arms like some kind of princess or something. 

He landed next to the three of them without as much as a thud, his grey eyes bouncing from Koa, to Bentley, to Varian. He sat Summer down on the ground, and she wasted no time hitting her knees next to them and grabbing onto Varian’s shoulder.

The five of them fell eerily silent as she stared off into the distance, shaking her head lightly. “It’s nothing internal or injury based. I think he’s sick. I… can’t fix that.”

“It’s the shit that's going around. Jaden said his whole dorm’s got it, and this is how it started,” Valor piped up, running a hand over his hair and pointing at Summer. “You should go. And wash your hands.”

She stood up and shrugged, sending a quick glance over to Bentley, their eyes lingering on one another for a moment. “If your dorm’s got it, mine’s going down for the count, too.”

Valor sighed deeply. “Just humor me, alright?”

“Okay,” She sighed, glancing at them all one last time before she started making her way off the field. “I hope you don’t all catch it.”

“Don’t we all,” Koa muttered.

Bentley stayed quiet as Valor crouched down and rested a hand on top of Varian’s head for a minute -- not checking his temperature or anything, but just… as a form of comfort, it seemed. Then he brushed his hair back. “Hey, V. It’s Valor. I’m going to pick you up now, okay?”

Varian didn’t say anything, but he peeled one of his eyes open just enough to get a good look at Valor, then closed them again.

Valor took that as an agreement and picked him up off of the ground like he weighed about as much as a balloon. “Meet you guys back at the dorm. Feeling alright?” He questioned, glancing back and forth between Bentley and Koa. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Koa replied, glancing over at Bentley.

“Me, too,”

Valor sighed deeply. “From what I’ve heard, now that he’s got it, our whole dorm is as good as dead for the next two weeks.”

Bentley cringed.

Currently, he wasn’t sure he had the willpower to survive being that sick.

Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad…

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy