#what twenty years of brain rot will do to a person xD

[anime-chick]

me and my quest of collecting all of arina toshimi’s doujinshi (plus some extras 👀!!)

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ @sasuhinabigflash2020​​ || Day Twenty-Two: Out to Dinner ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ] [ This piece is a sequel to Day Seventeen ]

To say that their meeting was awkward was...a bit of an understatement.

For months, both Sasuke and Hinata have lived under a rather unusual assumption: that they were each the last person left on earth. One morning they’d woken, made to address their family...only to find their homes empty. Their neighborhoods...empty.

The entire city - and presumably the rest of the world - completely and utterly empty.

And yet strange phenomena seemed to keep life running as normal. Electricity never wavered. Food in stores didn’t rot. To both, it felt like being trapped in a strange gap in time. A limbo they had been dropped into with no context, no warning.

But then, while each looking to plunder a local grocery store...they’d finally managed to cross paths, each completely taken aback at the knowledge that they were no longer alone.

That didn’t make it any easier to accept, however, the meeting standoffish and each seemingly wary and suspicious. But they’d exchanged numbers, agreeing to - should the need arise - communicate with one another.

And after a week...neither has dared bridge that gap.

Sasuke, for his part, has actually adapted to the loneliness rather well. At first he mourned his missing family deeply. While theirs had been far from perfect, having them suddenly vanish left him more hollow than he could ever describe. But after an intense two weeks that nearly saw him deciding to try and join them...he’d instead become resolute. So...he was left alone to survive on his own, was he? Then he’d do it...and do it well.

And for months he’d done just that. Managed his food supply, ensured the care and defense of his home (even if there was, assumably, no one to seek to harm it...one could never be too careful), and kept himself guarded and ready for anything.

...well, almost anything.

He’d mostly been simply scouting out parts of his city he didn’t know well, taking several large bags with him to grab whatever looked useful. He had closer places to find food. But he was there, and it was ripe for the taking.

Or so he thought.

Seeing the girl, Hinata, had startled him in a way he had in no way expected. So...he wasn’t the last. Maybe they weren’t, either. Perhaps there are more somewhere, just waiting to be found.

But Sasuke had already decided he was fine not knowing. Hinata was a surprise, and a pleasant one. But that didn’t inspire some inclination to go looking for others. He had his domain and his necessities. He was fine as he was, thank you very much.

...and yet…

Every time he checks his phone, seeing her contact information...he debates sending some kind of message. What would he even say…? They’re complete strangers. He knows nothing about her, let alone something to talk about.

And yet...he wants to. Not because he’s lonely, he assures himself. But just because he’s curious. And it’s something new. Something to break up the monotony.

So after a week of deliberation, he sends his first text.

You there?

Casual enough, right? And he manages to put the mobile aside rather than wait for an answer...which comes seven minutes later.

Sorry, was in my garden! Do you need something?

Well, no. He doesn’t need anything. Nope. Just checking in. Kinda weird, tbh.

A minute passes. Yes, I know what you mean. Odd to talk to someone after so long.

...he reaches an impasse. Now what…? How is your garden?

Good! It’s just flowers. I wanted to grow something edible, but...ran out of time. Maybe next year, if...you know.

Ah yes. Winter. The thing both of them have been dreading, wondering if any problems yet to surface may in fact rear their ugly heads. I bet you’ll get around to it. I dunno anything about plants, so...don’t ask me.

They’re not that hard to learn about. I could teach you, if you wanted?

That earns a blink. Sure.

...another awkward silence.

Can I ask you a really random question?

Sure?

Okay. Just act cool. Do you want to like...meet up or something? I dunno, just seems like maybe we should at least get to know the basics about each other, all things considered. Right?

To his worry, she doesn’t respond for several agonizing minutes. Did he ask too quickly? Is something wrong?

Yeah! Sorry, there’s some loose animals in my neighborhood and one of the dogs keeps coming into my yard and digging in the flowerbeds...

Sasuke blinks. Maybe you need a fence.

Ha, maybe.

I could help you build one. I helped my dad build ours a few years ago. I kinda know how it works.

...you would?

Sure. Not much else to do, right?

There’s a brief silence as she seems to mull that over. ...okay! I’ll make you some dinner to pay you back, okay?

You don’t have to do that.

No, but I want to. It’s only fair.

Well, seems there’s no changing her mind. All right. When would you wanna start?

Doesn’t matter to me! Like you say...what else is there to do?

Nodding to himself, Sasuke replies, How about tomorrow? I know where a hardware store is, and I have my dad’s pickup. I’ll get the stuff today and head over then.

Okay! I’m...kind of excited!

All right, see you then.

...okay. He’ll admit it. He’s a little excited. Mostly because this is his first real social interaction in months. So off to the store he heads, asking Hinata for details of what she wants.

It’s not like price is an issue. Mostly just effort. And Sasuke’s got plenty of that to spare.

She decides on a privacy board fence, just to make sure the animals keep out. And he even picks up white paint and brushes for them to make it match her house. By the time tomorrow rolls around, he’s more than prepared. Boards, posts, nails, hammers, paint...he’s got it all.

They get started early in the morning, Sasuke showing her the basics and letting her help...until she smashes her thumb with a hammer. She’s then directed to painting duty, covering up the boards as he gets them tacked up.

A few breaks are taken to drink lemonade she took to making before he got there, as well as lunch. But it’s dinner she promises will be what helps make up for all his hard work.

By early evening, they’ve actually gotten it all up. Hinata insists she can finish the painting herself the next day. “For now, it’s time for dinner!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” In truth? He’s starving. Been a while since he’s worked that hard, but it was nice.

Inside, Hinata’s gone all out. An entire ham is taken out of the oven alongside potatoes, salad, and a cherry pie.

“...I think you went a little overboard,” Sasuke observes, perking a brow as she blushes pink.

“I just...w-wanted it to be worth all you did today. I still don’t think it’s enough, really…”

“It’s fine. Like I said, it was something to do. If anything, I should be thanking you.”

The pair stand at an impasse before Hinata relents with a giggle. “Okay, okay...we’ll just call it even.”

Hinata, as it turns out, is a really good cook. Before Sasuke realizes it, he’s overeaten, having had two full plates of everything and feeling miserable.

“No room for pie?” she teases.

“Ugh, no…”

“Well, you can just t-take some home, then. Have it for breakfast tomorrow!”

He just nods, knowing he can’t tell her no. But he does help tidy up and put things away. “Think I might have to help you build fence more often if I get to eat like that.”

She flashes pink again, clearly pleased. “Y-you can come over any time! I guess just, um...give me a little warning.”

“Sure. Let me know if you need help with anything else.”

“I will! Thank you again.”

“Back at you.”

...an awkward silence blooms between them.

“Well, I...guess I’ll say goodnight…?” Hinata offers, sounding more like a question.

“Yeah. Have a nice night, Hinata.”

“You too, Sasuke. Drive home safe.”

“Not like there’s much traffic to worry about,” he counters with a grin.

“Still -!”

“I will, don’t worry.” Giving a wave, he returns to his father’s truck and revs the engine, headlights flicked on. The drive is quiet, and by the time he gets back to his house, the silence - after such a full day - is almost suffocating.

He stares up at the house he’s grown up in, seeing how dark all the windows are. How quiet it is. So, just to ward off the feeling, he shoots Hinata a quick text to let her know he made it back without incident.

Glad to hear it! Goodnight.

Night.

Considering his phone for a moment, he can’t help but wonder when would be long enough to wait to see if he can head back. Was kinda nice to go ‘out’ to dinner. He’s not much of a cook, himself. Enough to get by, but nothing like what they had.

He’ll just have to wait and see.

     I swear I tried to get this done last night but oof, my brain was not cooperating OTL I had a rather stressful day, BUT things are looking better today! So I’m gonna try to get at least one more drabble done today, if not more, cuz I am...very behind. I’ve just had a lot going on irl that makes sitting and writing difficult.      ANYWAY! This is more of the very random “last people on earth” verse I started with day 17. Our two stranded strangers are starting to become friends, seems like! No idea if I’ll do more of this for the rest of the challenge, but it’s a neat idea to explore. I just...don’t have much in way of a plot for it xD But hopefully it’s enjoyable nonetheless!      On that note, I’m gonna try to get another piece done. But thanks for reading this one, and I’ll see you guys later!

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Tell Me Where To Find Shelter -- Layers of Victor

Saw this meme going around the #fallout4 tag a while back (I believe I specifically ganked it from @radbeetle), and thought it might be fun to do for my Sole Survivor!Victor. And my Malkavian!Alice, but let’s start with SS!Victor. XD

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE

- Name: Victor Fitzwilliam Van Dort

- Eye Color: Very dark brown – it can be very hard to tell the difference between pupil and iris!

- Hair Style/Color: Black, generally combed back with two "tufts" of bangs falling over what little forehead he has

- Height: Six feet three inches (and thin as a rail)

- Clothing style: Relatively formal pre-War – he grew up in a household that impressed upon him that you wore ties and suits whenever you were in public, and often even in private. Post-War, he spends a lot of time switching between a pair of upgraded Vault suits from Vault 111 while looking for clothes that actually fit his lanky frame. He's a lot more casual in his style once he does – though he still likes a good sweater vest, and he keeps a few suits if he needs to look fancy.

- Best physical feature: Victor would personally say his hands – he's a pianist and a tinkerer, and he appreciates his long reach over a keyboard, along with his ability to finely handle delicate parts when upgrading or repairing things!

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

- Fears: Total darkness (as in you can't see ANYTHING – as long as there's some sort of light source, he can manage); blindness (related to previous); small enclosed spaces (being locked in a cryonic pod will do that to a guy); losing those he cares about again (he – has a lot of trauma from seeing Victoria shot, Shaun kidnapped, then trying to open Emily's pod after he finally got out, only to see her corpse half-rotted inside)

- Guilty pleasure: Pre-War, it would have been comics – he was always a little embarrassed about how much he continued to like the adventures of Grognak and the Unstoppables and whatnot after his teenage years (not helped by his mother sneering at the stories). Post-War, though, he ditches the "guilty" part – especially after meeting Kent Connolly and getting to play Silver Shroud. XD I'm not sure he has one post-War – he occasionally feels weird about how much he enjoys modifying his weapons and armor? But that's quite practical as well as pleasurable, so. . .

- Biggest pet peeve: Being rapidly promoted in organizations that he's only just joined (Preston, you're easily one of his best friends, but SERIOUSLY, dude, GENERAL?)

- Ambitions for the future: To continue keeping his little portion of the Commonwealth safe, and start training up someone with some more Charisma to be the General of the Minutemen once he retires (he's still not sure why people follow him when he's so socially awkward)

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

- First thoughts waking up: Depends on what wakes him up. If he's waking up on his own, it's generally a variation on "Breakfast? Where breakfast?" If someone else wakes him up, it's generally "Why are you shaking/licking me, I don't wanna get up yet." And if it's combat nearby, it's generally "SHIT WHERE'S MY GUN oh wait are they shooting at me still should find gun."

- What they think about most: All his various responsibilities – finding his son, acting as General of the Minutemen, working with the Railroad, helping the people on the settlements, wondering what the hell is going to happen between him and the Brotherhood of Steel, or him and the Institute. . .it doesn't do much for his anxiety, is what I'm saying.

- What they think about before bed: If he's not exhausted enough just to collapse onto the nearest sleeping surface, then probably what I mentioned above. He's probably up late trying to plan routes to help settlements that have called for assistance and follow leads on the Institute and whatnot.

- What they think their best quality is: Victor would consider it his willingness to be helpful whenever possible. He generally enjoys helping people, and it makes him feel better in general to help improve the Commonwealth in some small way. (Not to mention, him helping out personally with the problems of a lot of the families/communities in the Commonwealth has earned him a lot of friends for his Minutemen! A General so hands-on seems to impress people.)

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

- Single or group dates: . . .this gets a little harder to answer when he was in a polyamorous relationship pre-War, you know. XD But yeah, Victor prefers one-on-one, or one-on-two in the case of Victoria and Emily. A group date puts the pressure on him to perform like the perfect boyfriend/husband, and he doesn't need the extra stress. Maybe he'd be okay with a double date if it was with some very close friends.

- To be loved or respected: Victor would rather be loved, or at least liked – though part of that is low self-esteem telling him people aren't going to respect him. (Or like him, for that matter.) It's what informs his desire to help people, at least in part.

- Beauty or brains: While Victor isn't immune to a nice face or body, he really likes having someone he can talk to about stuff. Sharing interests is fun, and he appreciates someone who will at least try to keep up with his nattering on about butterflies and robots and whatnot.

- Dogs or cats: Dogs! Victor gets along decently with cats, but he is first and foremost a dog person. He had a dog named Scraps when he was a child, and he, Victoria, and Emily were making plans to adopt one before the bombs fell. Meeting Dogmeat at the Red Rocket really helped pull him out of his post-War "almost everything I knew is gone and I'm a stranger in my own state" funk.

LAYER FIVE: DO THEY?

- Lie: Yup. Victor will tell the usual social "white lies" (even if he's not very good at them), and he's done bigger lies in the past – like not telling his parents that Emily was more than their "roommate." (Of course, that was done not to have a family blowout about him and his wife having a girlfriend.)

- Believe in themselves: Not usually – as stated, Victor has pretty low self-esteem, thanks mostly to growing up with a mother who was criticizing him and everything he was when she wasn't absent doing social climbing stuff. It's hard for him to think of himself as being someone who has worth, sadly. He gets better when he starts seeing more results of his actions in helping the Minutemen and the Railroad, and realizes he's genuinely making a difference for people.

- Believe in love: Yes – his relationship with Victoria and Emily was one of the high points of his pre-War life. He was utterly heartbroken when Victoria was shot, and Emily later died due to the life support to the other pods being cut off. But then later he meets Alice, and. . .well, it takes some time, but he manages to come around to loving and being loved again.

- Want someone: Pre-War, not really – he was in a happy threesome and wasn't currently looking to expand. Post-War, most of his life precludes wanting anyone – though he does develop a bit of a crush on Piper as time goes on. And then, of course, he meets Alice, and eventually ends up wanting her. . . (Yes, in-game I intend for him to romance Piper – and there's a chance in the AU he, Piper, and Alice would end up in a poly situation. We'll see where this goes!)

LAYER SIX: EVER?

- Been on stage: Pre-War, never officially – Nell had him play piano at some of her parties (which was always stressful, as he felt all her guests were either judging him or just hated him for being related to her), but that was as far as performing got. He of course had the speech he was asked to do that he was practicing the day the bombs dropped, but – well, the bombs dropped. Post-War – he probably will have to give some inspirational speeches to his Minutemen troops, which he will somehow get through and then go have a little quiet panic attack somewhere.

- Done chems/drugs: . . .I have occasionally toyed with the headcanon that Victor was unwillingly dosed with Psycho, or a drug like it, back in his Army days and has been haunted by the experience ever since. But other than that, not the hard stuff – Victor doesn't even smoke (he tried once – after nearly coughing up a lung, he refused to ever try again) and he tends not to drink (he's tried that too, and discovered he's an embarrassingly chatty drunk, so he doesn't typically indulge). He will, of course, take Rad-X and Rad-Away, because those are freaking necessary to survive in parts of the Wasteland.

- Changed who you were to fit in: Occasionally attempted, never stuck. He's not good at keeping up a facade. One of his most embarrassing memories is trying to ask a girl to dance at a party his mother dragged him to when he was about 16, imitating the more popular "jock"-kinda guys, and getting laughed at so much he retreated to the buffet for the rest of the night.

LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES

- Favorite color: Blue

- Favorite animal: Dogs, butterflies

- Favorite movie: Victor will confess to a love for schlocky monster movies, so he was quite enamored of Night of the Fish Men's Revenge when it came out (he's quite excited when he sees it in the projector in Eden Meadows Cinema, and quite sad that he can only get it to play the title screen). He also enjoyed Another Day In the Monster Factory for much the same reasons.

- Favorite game: With his affinity for comic books and a secret love of roleplaying (which becomes not-so-secret once he starts Silver Shrouding), Grognak & The Ruby Ruins quite appeals to him. He likes that it has some replay value too, with changing up your party and whatnot. The action of Pipfall appeals to him too, though that time limit can be stressful!

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

- DOB: June 9th, 2050 (he was 27 and a few months when the bombs dropped)

- Day of their next birthday, they will be: His next birthday according to the game would be June 9th, 2088 – he'd be 238 in terms of time passed, 28 in terms of biology

- Age they lost their virginity: Twenty – Victor had been yanked by the Army into Canada to help with the Sino-American war shortly after graduating high school, but got some leave around his twentieth birthday to go home. He immediately caught back up with his high school sweethearts, Victoria and Emily, and ended up doing the deed with Victoria. They managed to keep it a secret from their conservative parents, fortunately.

- Does age matter: In general? Victor is willing to listen to advice from those older than he is, certainly – though he tends to take it with a grain of salt depending on their obvious biases. In a relationship? Unless one of the parties is a minor, Victor won't get involved, though bigger gaps will probably make him wonder what exactly they see in each other. (He allows this is hypocritical of him to a degree, as Alice is much older than him even taking into account the freezing – but on the flip side, she was Embraced at 20, he was frozen at 27. . .)

LAYER NINE: IN A BOY OR GIRL

- Best personality: Victor likes people who are sweet and kind, but have a tougher or sassier side to them as well. Victoria leaned mostly toward the "sweet" side, but was also pretty determined when it came to getting what she wanted from him; Emily was cheerful and enthusiastic, but if you angered her – wooo boy; Alice of course is snark incarnate, but is kind to people and generally likes helping others. Even Piper is one of the kinder companions, but doesn't shy away from sarcastic comments.

- Best eye color: Well, Victoria and Emily both had blue eyes (of differing shades), and Alice's green eyes were one of the first things that struck Victor about her, sooo. . .blue or green!

- Best hair color: I'm not sure Victor has a preference here – Victoria was a super-light brown, almost gray; Emily was a blonde; Alice has dark hair that looks black or brown depending on the light/how well cared for it is (and she says her hair was almost red when she was a kid!); Piper has dark brown/black hair. I guess pre-War he went for lighter; post-War he goes for darker?

- Best thing to do with a partner: Victor likes finding some sort of creative interest they can share, or at least do at the same time. He would sit in the living room and draw while Victoria embroidered in the afternoons; and he and Emily both played piano, so they'd often have little duets. With Alice, he probably ends up illustrating some of the stories she tells – maybe eventually they throw together a book of sorts, with Piper's help!

LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE

- I love: Alice! And the rest of my friends too, of course.

- I feel: completely out of my depth, most of the time.

- I hide: how anxious all of this makes me – not sure how well I'm succeeding, but. . .

- I miss: the life I had before, in Sanctuary.

- I wish: that Victoria and Emily hadn't – that t-they were still here to meet the friends I've made.

[writteninsunshine]

Step Into The Dark - Adam-Centric - NSFW

Title: Step Into The Dark Author: Donnie Fandom: Saw/Insidious Setting: The Bathroom Pairing: None Characters: Adam Faulkner, Lawrence Gordon, Zep Hindle, John Kramer, Specs (Insidious), Tucker (Insidious), David (Saw .5), OC: Matthew Faulkner, OC: Lukas Radford-Faulkner Genre: Angst/Horror Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2006 Type of Work: One-Shot Status: Complete Warnings: Canon Character Death, Hallucinations, Sensory Deprivation, Adam Dying, AU - Canon Divergent, Adam just starves to death here, Vent Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except Matt and Lukas. Summary: Adam would have accepted anything to dull the pain, even death. AN: Lol just have to say this before I get into the meat of it, I checked, and 2006 was the original word count for this. 2006 was the release year for Saw III. I just thought that was funny. xD So… On to the real thing here. I’ve been doing not very good and really needed to torture Adam, I guess. I don’t usually write his death, or him being dead or whatever, but I guess I needed to vent pretty badly. I hope you guys enjoy! Edited by my friend, Griff, because I couldn’t do it myself.

Bye Bye Man/Insidious/Saw Fic Masterlist Step Into The Dark ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ While Adam was used to the clawing beast in his stomach, this was a new low for him. Dying in the dark, waiting for something that wasn’t coming. Lawrence had lied to him, and all he could hear was I wouldn’t lie to you. over and over again in his head. An endless loop, sometimes in slow-motion as if he could pull every syllable from Lawrence’s filthy, lying lips if he tried hard enough, and it was growing so old. The last thing he remembered seeing were those grotesquely bright blue eyes. They had been so handsome before the blood loss; it had made the incandescent fire in them scorch him, before leaving him to rot.

It took too much effort to be angry anymore. It took too much effort to even open his eyes, and he’d given up on trying to move his right shoulder at all. There was no escape this time, no way to duck under the responsibility and run. His own cowardice had landed him in the one place he couldn’t seem to leave. Even the acrid scent of his dead cellmate and the stench of shit didn’t register anymore. He had heard of the term ‘nose-blind’, but this was probably to a rather crazy degree. Old-Lady-With-Twenty-Cats crazy. Sunlight was a vague memory, something he couldn’t quite grasp anymore, and he yearned for one more sunrise. In his restless dreams he saw his family, his father’s crooked grin - passed to all of his sons, Lukas’ inability to stick to one person, David’s sardonic attitude, Specs’ nerd culture. They welcomed him back, Matt constantly babying him, much to his siblings’ chagrin, and even Lukas was being kind. That was probably the biggest tell that it was a desperate fantasy. Another bout of stomach acid shredded his throat as it leaked out of his mouth, and he didn’t have it in him to even move. Barfing on his shirt was something that, last month, would have been alcohol-induced. Here, he was so used to tasting acid and feeling sick that he couldn’t imagine ever drinking booze again. With his head pounding and his eyes, adjusted to the dark enough to see the vague shapes of the fixtures, pulsing, he closed them carefully, watching the spinning dots behind his eyes like an in-flight movie. When had his life become so bad that he wished for his shithole apartment, that he missed the days that he couldn’t eat because he didn’t have the money? Having the option sounded like it would be better than this. How long had he been down here? It could have been three hours or three days. That time was spent either pleading with God or hating him because that had always worked for other people. It wasn’t like he had access to anything else, either. The tap didn’t run, not anymore. Even the ticking of the clock had stopped at some point, leaving him in the dark in deafening silence. It figured that he wouldn’t be allowed to count the seconds by to try haphazardly to keep time. Worse than that, though, was when he could hear things. Little scampering feet in the darkness. They had to belong to rats, mice, things of that ilk, and if Adam knew these New York sewer lines, he’d be feeding mammoth rats before the day was out. It did enough to terrify him into stiffening until his shoulder quaked, but nothing ever ventured close enough to touch him. Maybe in his sleep, emboldened by his steady breathing, but never when he heard them when he was awake. Beady eyes in the darkness watched him, mocked him with their ability to come and go as they pleased. Rustling the chain did well enough to scare them off, and it was usually both a gift and a curse when he finally decided to move his leg. Restriction made comfort a far cry in any position, but even less so now that it felt like his ass had been melded with the broken tile beneath himself. Sometimes, he humored himself; which of them was really worse off, after all? At least Adam had both of his feet, the evidence was on the other side of the room. It was a poor claim to happiness when seconds later his traitorous brain replied with, But he has his freedom. That was, if Lawrence had managed to crawl to safety. For all Adam knew, Zep wasn’t the only corpse he shared a catacomb with. Anything beyond the bathroom was a mystery, and he’d go so far as to say that anything in the bathroom out of reach was a best guess, at this point. It was almost impossible to even tell which of Zep’s feet he had had to kick away from himself at first. Once the door was closed and he was, rather suddenly, left with the inability to take anything for granted, he took everything in his general vicinity for some semblance of safety. For a while, he had thought it was a better use of his time to try and find the key, to lay in the bathtub instead of on the floor. The less strength he had in his arms and legs to lift himself, however, meant he had wanted to get up and down less. Eventually, he parked back against the floor, and he wasn’t sure he’d moved much in the last millennia. He was a fixture of this bathroom, like the tub, the clock, Zep’s lifeless corpse. Sometimes he wondered if he’d been dead this whole time, if he wasn’t already gone and his soul hadn’t left, hadn’t been given the chance or the option to leave. Was this Hell? The question had crossed his mind on a few occasions, but he never truly entertained it. If nothing else, leaving the thought open-ended meant that there was a chance that this mind-numbing loneliness would leave, that the impending doom he felt looming all around him could end. Even if he didn’t live, which was looking like the only option, death would be a welcome reprieve. What had he ever done to deserve this? He supposed starving to death in a shithole you could leave wasn’t much better than starving to death in one you couldn’t, but at least he’d been able to try and change his situation before. That was his mistake, he mused absently, giving a breathless, mirthless chuckle. His only sin had been living, trying to survive. Had he gone back to his dad’s two-bit trailer and scraped up his pride off the floor for dinner instead, maybe this wouldn’t have happened to him. Hell, Lukas was better off than he was, and the man was a walking medicine cabinet if you were paying high enough. Why wasn’t Lukas tested? Or, maybe he had been. That Jigsaw guy was intent on cleaning up the under crust, and Lukas was as slimy as they came. Unbeknownst to him, David had been a player in his own game, just the same as he was, except for the thorny issue of him being the triplet that lived. David’s survival was the only thing holding Matt together, who pleaded and threatened God in equal measure to have his son returned to him. Much like an unimpressed Customer Service employee, God had deigned to do nothing but let him rant, so far. It almost hurt more that his dad might be holding out hope that he’d come out of this, but he would say it was a close second. This hurt like Hell. Whatever his stomach was saying, he’d almost forgotten the translation. Pain, sure, it hurt, but it always hurt. No matter how much writhing and pitching it did, it melted in with everything else that wore on him. Sleep was nonexistent for him, but there was occasionally a lull in the constant pounding of his head. Were his eyes ever even open, anymore? He could make out vague shapes but it didn’t really seem much different from when he closed his eyes again. A sudden rush of light plagued his tired eyes, and he blinked awake, lower jaw quivering slightly. “Adam, come on.” Lukas cried, and the eye roll could be heard in his voice as he slammed his elbow into the table, “Dad says we can’t eat if you don’t get your ass in gear, he’s gonna starve all of us because of you, lazy assh--” “Shut it, Lukas, don’t you have a ballet thing to be at for daughter number twelve?” Matt’s voice cut in, playful and sharp as a tack, and Adam felt a smile working onto his face. It turned to a full-on grin when his father could be heard smacking Lukas’ shoulder, “You watch your mouth. I’m your father.” “Pretty sure Adam’s the only one that matters to you. Davey and I’ll just have to go hungry.” “David’s a good kid, he can have as much KFC as he wants, too.” “KFC?” Adam heard himself before he could register that he’d spoken. His voice didn’t sound broken, it didn’t sound fractured or even quiet, it was just how it used to be. “The grilled shit?” “Yeah!” Lukas piped up again, peeking around the wall a little to give Adam a disapproving frown, “With mashed potatoes, macaroni, coleslaw, and biscuits. Get in here or I’m going to eat everything but the fucking slaw.” “You will not.” Matt snapped, before his voice turned soft and coaxing, “Adam, come on, baby boy. Got all your favorites.” “You did not,” Adam found himself giggling, elated at the idea that anyone would actually like coleslaw, “You got coleslaw, and not extra Mac.” “I know, kiddo, that’s the thing I got me that I know you brats won’t eat. Except maybe Tucker.” “Tucker eats coleslaw.” Specs supplied, already dishing out his plate of mashed potatoes, gravy and a single drumstick. “But he eats almost anything.” The mammoth of a man sat with his family around the coffee table in the dingy trailer he grew up in, on the floor because all of the chairs were too tall for him to still reach the table. Everyone was staring, expectant, as Adam shuffled in place in the hallway that lead to the bedrooms, biting his lip and feeling out of place. Was this even his family anymore? “Adam,” Matt’s tone took on a sugary sweet tone that had him wary, knowing he had probably done something wrong, “Come on, come eat. I know you’ve been struggling. You’re not in trouble, I’m your dad, I can do stuff like this for you guys now and again, even if you’re grown.��Especially because you’re grown.” Acceptance seemed to wash over him in waves. Each step he took onto the thin carpet didn’t feel like anything, but he was moving forward, taking a spot between David and Specs on the couch. David offered a one-armed half-hug, and Specs barely tilted his head before demolishing his drumstick. Lukas shot him an expectant look but dug into the breast he’d pilfered from the bucket, eating enough that when Matt noticed, he didn’t do anything more than glare. “You know that’s--” “Adam’s, I know, I get it. We all know he’s your favorite.” Lukas groaned, “It’s weird to pick a favorite identical triplet but whatever.” “I don’t play fav--” “Dad,” Specs paused in his eating to look up, “You do, and it’s okay.” There was something in Adam’s hands. It didn’t feel like the greasy, delicious grilled chicken wing he’d picked up, it was soft, firm and bony. Cold, maybe, or just cool. It didn’t seem quite right, but he couldn’t exactly see anything wrong with it. Warmth blanketed his face as he took a bite, and something seemed to give. With a final sigh, everything melted away into nothingness, and he finally felt at peace. Matt never would get to see his son again without looking into the faces of the remaining triplets. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: I forget why I started this, but this happened even more because of some shit happening in my life right now and I’m just…. Trying to keep going. This sort of helped but I’m also more anxious, now.