#i did not finish old home town because it came uncomfortably close to deal-breaking swearing and i don't feel like dealing with that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-observant-frisbeetarian · 5 years

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Chapter 6 - Live Game

Catch Perfect by George deValier

CHAPTER SIX

LIVE GAME: A game with a lot of action, usually with unskilled players, especially maniacs.

Berwald turned to Tino with a silent plea to explain the situation. Party? Tino just mouthed an apology before Iceland hauled him to his feet. "Come on, Fin, let's get ready."

Tino sighed, resigned to his fate. "All right, you want to party. Where are we going?"

Denmark jumped from his chair, pointed at Tino, and started singing. "You! I wanna take you to a gay bar!"

Tino closed his eyes. "Oh, God."

"I wanna take you to a gay bar!"

"Please stop," Tino groaned, putting his hand to his head.

"I wanna take you to a gay bar, gay bar, gay bar…"

"What's he on about?" Berwald's eyes narrowed in irritated confusion.

Faeroe looked up from the couch. "I believe he wishes to take you to an all-gentleman's drinking establishment."

"Do ya? A do ya have any money? I wanna spend all your money! At the gay bar, gay bar, gay bar!"

"YES I GET IT!" Tino shouted. "But Ice and I aren't old enough to actually get into a bar, gay or otherwise."

Iceland scoffed dismissively. "Den made us fake IDs months ago. Besides, once I'm done with you, you'll get in anywhere."

Tino edged apprehensively away from Iceland. "What exactly does that mean?"

"I swear," said Norway as he crossed the room, "If either of you say the word 'makeover' I will evict you this second on the grounds of being excessively homosexual."

Denmark grinned manically and directed his demented singing to Norway. "I've got something to put in y-AARGH!"

Norway flexed his fist as Denmark rubbed his arm. "Sweden. You don't need a fake ID, do you." It wasn't a question.

"'course not." Berwald didn't mention that he had not needed to show ID since he was fifteen.

All eyes turned to Berwald. Iceland, Tino, and Denmark leant forward, expectant. Berwald was just confused. "What?"

"All right." Norway narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. "How old are you, Sweden?"

"Tw'nty-three."

Denmark punched the air. "Yes! Under twenty-five, told you! Pay up."

Norway practically growled as he tossed a coin to Denmark. "You got lucky."

Iceland groaned and placed a coin in Denmark's outstretched palm. "Would've sworn thirty, at least."

Berwald frowned. Thirty? Tino grinned delightedly. "Ha! I told you guys he wasn't a middle-aged pervert… Uh, sorry, Berwald."

Berwald just shrugged. His housemates had been taking bets on his age. He wasn't really surprised.

"All right, break it up, move it along," Denmark barked, placing the coins in his pocket. "Sweden, go get changed, you're covered in dirt, it's disgusting. Seriously."

Berwald shook his head. In his idea of a good time, going out on the town with Denmark ranked somewhere between repeatedly smashing his head against the wall and being forced to watch those awful reality shows Greenland and Faeroe lived off. "Thanks, but… I'll give it a miss."

Denmark waved a hand and followed the others up the stairs. "Whatev, you'd cramp my style anyway. Oi Iceland, get back here, you are so not having the bathroom first, you take a fucking month!"

Berwald escaped into the kitchen, which was quickly becoming a sort of hideout for him. At least, it was a safe place to wait until everyone left and he could make his way to his bedroom unhindered. He spent twenty minutes dealing with the mess which only accumulated the minute he finished cleaning it, then decided to busy himself making coffee. He took out a mug, put the jug on the boil, opened the fridge to get the milk, then looked up when Tino walked into the kitchen.

Berwald dropped the milk carton.

"Iceland," Tino explained, his expression slightly bewildered.

"I, um…" Berwald's brain would not work. Tino was dressed… if 'dressed' was even the right word… in a tight purple shirt, Iceland's white boots, and quite possibly the smallest pair of shorts Berwald had ever seen. "I, um… I, um…" Berwald paused, breathed deeply, and focused really, really hard on getting the next sentence out correctly. "I… um." He barely noticed the milk pooling around his feet.

"Come on, Finland!"

Tino looked in the direction of Denmark's voice then back at Berwald pleadingly. "Please come with me!"

"I…" Berwald had absolutely no choice. "Okay."

It took Berwald five minutes to get ready. When he descended into the living room, Tino still looked helplessly lost, Norway stood tapping his foot, Iceland was fussing with Tino's hair, and Greenland and Faroe looked about as stunned as Berwald.

Greenland blinked incredulously up at Tino. "Who did this thing to you?"

Tino looked helplessly down at himself. "I know! I can't go out like this!"

Iceland rolled his eyes. He was dressed practically identical to Tino, though with a blue shirt, and a hell of a lot more eyeliner. "The hell you can't, you're our ticket into the hottest club in town."

"But I... but I look..."

"Fucking perfect, sweetie."

"Come on Ice, can't you do this?"

"I always do it. It's time to pass on my knowledge. Now remember what I told you to say?"

Tino took a deep breath. "Um... can my friends come in too?"

Iceland nodded. "Just like that, with that little tilt of the head. Now bite your lip that way you do. Beautiful."

Just as Berwald was trying to sort out his wildly oscillating and self-sabotaging emotions, he was thrown off guard by Denmark sauntering into the room, wearing a garish red suit and a little hat. Norway sneered at him. "You look like a pimp."

"Yeah, baby." Denmark placed an arm each around Norway and Iceland and grinned widely. "Sup, bitches." Norway stomped on his foot.

Denmark barely noticed. "Gentleman. And now we embark upon the age-old tradition of getting raging drunk in order to forget our problems. Shall we?"

The line of people waiting to enter the club stretched halfway down the street. Berwald and his housemates stood in a cluster off to the side, eyeing the security discreetly. "That one," said Iceland, pointing to a bouncer and pushing Tino towards the crowd. "Go, Fin."

Tino, looking slightly confused and a little terrified, pushed his way hesitantly through the crowd to the bouncers on the door. Berwald watched, the back of his neck boiling, as Tino spoke a few inaudible words. Not that he should worry, really; there was no way this was going to work.

But then Tino tilted his head. The bouncer nodded and Tino turned back to the group, smiling and beckoning them forward.

"All riiight!" Denmark cheered, pushing his way through the crowd to the door. "Move it, peasants. Nice one, Fin."

Berwald shot the bouncer a glare as he walked past. The man took a step backwards.

An hour later and Berwald could not remember the last time he had felt so uncomfortable. He was surrounded by a swarming, sweating, undulating mass of humanity, all at varying degrees of intoxication, all reminding Berwald why he absolutely hated nightclubs. He almost found himself looking around for a dirty, discreet back door somewhere - most of these places had games going on if you knew where to find them - but he quelled that notion the second he thought it. What would he even bet with?

Berwald glanced around for his housemates, who were having no problems making themselves at home in the blaring club. Norway had found his way to the bar and was currently knocking back his fourth straight shot of gin. Iceland had found a pole and an appreciative audience. Denmark had found the dance floor - and glowsticks. Only Tino seemed as much at a loss as Berwald, pushing through the massing sea of people around the bar. Almost everyone stared as he passed by, some even whistling, some getting so dangerously close that Berwald had to restrain himself from starting a few stupid, testosterone-laden barroom brawls.

Tino eventually made his way through the thronging mass and laughed up at Berwald. "Gosh, wow. Have you ever seen so many people pressed up like this? We had a dance at my school last year but only like thirty people turned up because everyone went and hung out at the empty lot to drink vodka and make out and look at cars. I would have gone, but I'm just not that interested in cars."

Berwald could not do this. He could not stand here while the most perfect person in the world stood right beside him and laughed like that and came out with those crazy, perfect things he always said. Berwald took a long sip of his beer and focused again on Denmark on the dance floor. Tino followed his gaze, a puzzled expression on his face. "What is he doing?"

"Think he's dancin'," Berwald replied, hoping Tino could hear him over the deafening electronics and thumping beat. He was not good at yelling. "Or, uh... tryin' to."

"He looks like he's having a fit."

"Thought he was," said Berwald. "Was gettin' ready to do CPR. Then he started wavin' the glowsticks so I thought he must be all right."

Tino giggled loudly. "That was funny."

"I was serious." This just made Tino burst into another fit of laughter. Berwald looked at him in confusion.

"Sorry," laughed Tino.

"Y'all right, Tino?" asked Berwald carefully. Tino was acting a little different - he certainly did not seem as nervous as usual.

"Of course! Norway gave me one of these!" Tino grinned, holding up an almost empty bottle of some brightly coloured hideous vodka concoction.

"Ah." Well, that explained it. "Ye should go easy on that."

"Why?"

"It's stronger than it tastes."

Tino waved a hand dismissively. "I'm Finnish, remember? I come from a long line of proud people who can hold their vodka and shoot Russians and sit in saunas for a really, really long time." Tino finished his drink, stumbled, and Berwald almost unconsciously reached out and took his arm. He led him through the crowd to a few couches centred around a low table; Berwald glared at the two men sitting there and they quickly left. Tino barely noticed, just falling heavily onto the couch. Iceland passed by on his way back from the bar and passed Tino a bright purple bottle.

"Ooh." Tino immediately started on the next sugary vodka mixture. Berwald closed his eyes, searched for inner strength, then sat down beside him.

Two drinks later and it was becoming quite clear that Tino was not the best drinker in the world. Berwald was only on his second beer, but used to much stronger. He watched with a mixture of amusement and complete, utter infatuation as Tino waved a bright blue bottle in the air in time with his words. He seemed to be making his way through every colour of the rainbow in vodka form. "And so then, get this, the teacher says that I was totally wrong in my entire interpretation and that there is no way that 'Romeo and Juliet' would ever work during a zombie apocalypse. So, d'you know what I said?"

"No."

Tino raised his drink. "I said, 'screw you!'"

"Really?"

Tino took a sip of vodka and shook his head. "No, not really, but I thought it. I actually said 'okay' and then I just, sort of, sat back down."

Berwald actually had to hold back a burst of laughter. "Well, at least ye thought it."

Tino leant forward with wide, bright, earnest eyes. "Don't you just wish sometimes that you could say what you're really thinking? I always worry that I'm going to upset someone, or make a fool of myself, or that it's going to come out wrong, which it usually does anyway because my brain just never seems to keep up with my mouth, you know what I mean?"

Berwald nodded. He wasn't actually sure he'd even heard Tino, too captivated by those violet eyes. "Sure."

Tino smiled softly. "Berwald, you're a really, really good listener."

"'kay."

"Do you think we're going to lose the house?"

Oh. That Berwald understood. How to answer… Berwald did the way he always did; the only way he really knew how. Honestly. "I don't know."

Tino flopped back against the couch despairingly. "Berwald, what will I do if we get kicked out? I won't have anywhere to go. I'll end up living on the street in a cardboard box. I don't want to live in a cardboard box, Berwald. How will I ever decorate it, nothing goes with that horrible brown colour. Oh my God, and I'll have to wear one of those beanie things with the bobbles on the side! Please don't let that happen to me, Berwald!"

Berwald did not think he could handle this. Tino was so adorable it was killing him. "I won't. Pr'mise I won't."

Tino gave a happy sigh and laid his head on Berwald's shoulder. Berwald took a very long gulp of beer. "That's so nice. You're so nice. What am I going to do with my life, Berwald?

Berwald froze. Oh, no. Drunk talk already. "I'm sure you'll think'f somethin'."

"I'm eighteen, I graduate in a month, and I have no idea what I want to do. Isn't that stupid?"

Berwald was all too aware of Tino's face so close to his. He could almost feel his breath. "No."

Tino waved his drink again as he spoke. "Eduard is going to be a computer whatsit… thing… guy. And Feliks and Toris are both already at college, and… and I just have no idea. I'm not the best at anything. I mean, I can play the piano, but I'm no musical genius. I'm in the soccer team, but I'm no athlete. I get good grades, but I'm never the top of the class. I'm just normal, boring, average."

Berwald scoffed quietly at that. Tino, average? He'd never heard anything so untrue in his entire life. But he did not know how to give compliments, or reassure people, so he simply asked, "Well… what's yer dream?"

Tino was silent for a moment. Berwald started to worry he had been inappropriate, but then Tino hummed thoughtfully. "My dream…"

"Yeah. If ye could have anythin', be anythin'."

"No, that's embarrassing!"

"I won't tell."

Tino lifted his head, looking up with narrow, wary eyes, and Berwald realised that he actually really, really wanted to know. "Promise?"

Berwald nodded. "Pr'mise."

"Well…" Tino seemed to think about answering for a moment. He bit his lip, took a deep breath, then spoke in a rush. "I just want a nice little house with a kid and a fluffy, white dog and a garden and the man of my dreams. I even want the white picket fence." Tino shrugged and looked into his hands. "Pathetic, huh."

Berwald's heart flipped almost painfully in his chest. He really could not handle this. "No. Not't all. Honest. And sweet."

Tino took another long sip of vodka, then pressed his finger to Berwald's lips. "But ssh, I'm not supposed to say that, or want that, because Eduard says that's, like, gender stereotypes and we shouldn't subscribe to those because that just sets our cause back fifty years but I don't even have a cause, I don't even really know what that means, but I think it means I'm supposed to be a lumberjack or something."

Berwald almost laughed again. "A lumb'rjack?"

"Yeah, you know. Tough, rugged. Eats pancakes, I believe. Red flannel is involved."

This time Berwald could not stop it. Tino was too cute, and too random, and Berwald laughed. He quickly broke off when Tino gasped and grabbed his arm. "Berwald!"

"Uh, what?"

"That's the first time I've heard you laugh!"

Berwald wasn't sure whether to feel embarrassed. "Oh."

Tino smiled. "You should do that more often, you're not so scary when you laugh. That was probably a silly thing to say, though, about the lumberjack. I'm glad Denmark didn't hear me say that..."

"Hear you say what?" Berwald was almost knocked sideways as Denmark vaulted the back of the couch and sat heavily between them. "House rule eleven, Sweden."

Berwald had to force himself not to punch Denmark in the jaw. "We're not in th'house," he grunted through gritted teeth.

Denmark eyed him disdainfully. "They still count."

Berwald held Denmark's steely gaze easily. "Is that explicitly stated?"

"I'm sure I could amend the rules to state it." Denmark scornfully articulated every word.

Berwald sneered. "Ye'd have to get a majority vote, wouldn't ye?"

Denmark narrowed his eyes and leant forward until his nose was almost touching Berwald's. "Sometimes, Sweden, I really don't like you very much."

Berwald was about to respond that the feeling was pretty damn mutual when Tino suddenly gasped and bounced on the couch. The music blasted even louder. "Oh, oh! I LOVE this song! Someone dance with me!"

Tino jumped up excitedly and almost ran into Iceland walking back from the bar. Tino took the drinks from Ice, placed them on the small table, and dragged him insistently towards the dance floor.

The song sounded like a thousand Berwald had heard before. But the second Ice and Tino started dancing, the entire club stopped to watch. Berwald had to admit – it was unlike anything he had ever seen. Iceland danced like he was born to do it. He moved effortlessly with the music; arms rising and falling gracefully, hips swaying tightly, his entire body perfectly in tune with the thumping bass and the flowing melody. His eyes, dark and lidded, took in the entire room as he moved with the beat.

But Tino – well. To be fair, impartial, and completely honest – Tino was quite possibly the worst dancer Berwald had ever seen. He started with some strange sort of epileptic shuffle, then moved on to a quite terrifying mixture of line dancing and flamenco, and once the beat started to get going, he simply jumped and down. People were avoiding him on the dance floor. Berwald, however, could not tear his eyes away from the perfect Finn.

"Sweden, you're pretty clueless, aren't you."

Berwald blinked at the intrusion on his thoughts, then practically choked on the audacity of Denmark saying those words to anyone. "Me?"

"Yes, do you see another freakishly tall, clinically pissed off looking Scandinavian nation around here anywhere?"

Berwald was really starting to wonder. "You've got s'rious pr'blems, Denmark."

"And you've got a serious speech impediment, honestly, I don't know what you are saying! No, don't try and repeat it, you'll only hurt yourself. As I was saying, you're clueless. Do you not see how glaringly obvious it is that you are in love with Finland?"

Berwald felt rather ill. How did everyone seem to know this? He was supposed to be good at hiding his emotions, damn it! Why was this the only one he could not hide? He glanced up at Tino, now attempting some kind of Broadway-inspired break-dancing, and realised – he had never felt anything like this. So how could he know how to hide it? Berwald glared at Denmark, calling upon his most intimidating expression. "Don't know what yer talkin' 'bout."

"Sweden, I'll make it simple." Denmark suddenly looked more serious than Berwald had ever seen him. It was jarring. "I've already seen one of my friends hurt. I will not see it happen again. So I swear to you, if you ever do anything to hurt Fin - I will break your fucking teeth."

Berwald paused for a moment. Denmark was serious about this. Maybe, somewhere beneath that mad, bizarre exterior, there really were things that he cared about. Again, Berwald looked up at Tino dancing. He was laughing wildly, jumping like he was in a mosh pit, completely oblivious to Iceland's perfectly smooth technique beside him. His blond hair flew in his beautiful face, his violet eyes flashed brightly; he was a fresh breeze of green grass and brilliant sunshine in a dank, booze-smelling pit.

Berwald glared at Denmark evenly, and replied honestly. "If I ever did anythin' to hurt 'im – I'd let you break more than m'teeth."

Denmark looked taken aback. Just then, Norway fell into the chair opposite. "This place is bullshit. The bastard behind the bar tried to stop serving me."

Denmark leant back and smiled brightly. "What'd you say to that?"

"I looked him in the eye and strongly suggested he reconsider."

"And?"

Norway held up a bottle. "Free drink."

Denmark giggled. "That's my boy."

Berwald again fixed his attention on Tino and Iceland on the dance floor. His view, however, was suddenly obstructed by three young men. The young, bespectacled blond sneered down with folded arms. "Why hello, Denmark! I didn't think the asylum let you out after nightfall!"

It took Berwald only a second to recognise them. Eduard, who had spoken and now looked down disdainfully at Denmark; Feliks, who was paying more attention to his cell phone than anything; and Toris, who looked distinctly uncomfortable. Tino seemed to have noticed at the same time, as he suddenly charged over and shrieked before Denmark had a chance to respond. Berwald winced.

"Oi, Finland!" shouted Denmark, placing a hand to his ear. "I need both my eardrums, you know!"

Tino ignored Denmark and threw his arms around the small group. "My friends! Yay, my friends are here!"

"Hey, Tino," said Eduard. Berwald glared at the boy's arm around Tino's waist. "How did you get in here oh great look your terrifying new housemate is here too…"

Tino laughed and pushed Eduard's shoulder. "Eduard, this is Berwald. Don't be mean."

Eduard smiled very carefully, but it did not reach his eyes. "It's nice to meet you properly, Berwald."

Berwald gritted his teeth and tried to be polite. "Hi." Eduard looked at him as though expecting him to go on. Berwald had no idea what else he was supposed to say.

Thankfully Denmark broke the awkward pause. "Well, well, so Mother Bear has let the Russian cubs out to play!"

Toris clenched his fists and growled angrily. "I. Am. Lithuanian!"

"That's what I said. Russian."

Toris looked like he was going to explode. "I... you... I… I need to go away."

Denmark threw a leg onto the coffee table to prevent Toris' escape, but his eyes were fixed on Eduard. "Estonia! I've told you a hundred times, you can't join Scandinavia, we're full. Go hang out with your Baltic brothers where you belong."

Eduard shook his head in disbelief. "Denmark, I wouldn't live with you if you paid me a thousand bucks a week and worked as my personal slave."

Norway downed the remainder of his drink. "He's broke, and he works for me."

Eduard's lip twisted. "I swear you're just as…"

Denmark sighed loudly. "Estonia, stop begging, please, you're embarrassing yourself."

Eduard pressed his lips together, breathed deeply through his nose, and turned to Tino. "How do you live with him?"

"How d'ye live with Ivan?" No one spoke. It took Berwald a few moments to be sure he was the one who had.

"Yeah," said Denmark finally, realising. He leant forward on the couch and glared indignantly at the three young men. "Yeah! I'm far better than that creepy Russian, at least I'm only fucking one of my minions!"

Despite the thumping music, the atmosphere turned cold and deathly silent. "Excuse me?" Feliks finally looked up from his phone, his hand on his hip and his expression deadly. "But, like, what the shit is that supposed to mean?"

Denmark smirked. "Come off it, Poland. Everyone knows Russia keeps your sweet little asses from being deported, and does what he wants with them in return."

Feliks lost it. Eduard and Toris barely managed to restrain the wild-eyed Pole as he charged. "I'll kill you, Denmark!" Feliks screamed. "I'll totally scratch your fucking eyes out!"

"Try it, sweetheart." Norway stood smoothly and stepped between Feliks and Denmark. "Try it and I will, like, totally rip that pretty little ponytail out of your scalp."

Berwald felt his shoulders tense as he prepared for some sort of eye-scratching, hair-ripping showdown. The tension broke, however, when Tino stumbled over and threw his arm around Norway. "Hey, hey!" Everyone stared as Tino laughed and gestured wildly. "Why can't we all just get along? It's like that song, you know. You know, that song. Berwald, tell them the song."

Berwald tried to sink into the couch. "Um, I… don't know what…"

"Yeah, that one." Tino started to sing tunelessly. "Why can't we all… just get along…" He trailed off, stopped, then glared intently at Eduard. "I don't like you guys fighting. You shouldn't fight, because you're all my friends, and…"

Eduard narrowed his eyes. "Tino, how much have you had to drink?"

Before Tino managed to respond, Iceland walked over and fixed Toris with a deep, bitter glare. Toris took an unsteady step backwards, turned red, and quickly looked away. "This place is tired," said Iceland calmly. "Let's go."

Berwald did not need to be told twice. He grabbed Denmark by the arm, pulled him off the couch, then pushed between Norway, Tino and his friends, sweeping his two housemates towards the exit. Iceland followed of his own accord. Tino shouted back as he was herded towards the door. "I'll call you guys tomorrow! Hey, hey, Feliks bro, tag me on Facebook!"

Berwald had learnt, many years earlier, that when some people reached a certain level of intoxication, it was impossible to stop them seeking further chemical stimulation and social interaction. Berwald now realised, as he and his housemates walked down the loud, busy, neon-lit inner city street, that he was currently with four of those people.

"What is their problem? I mean, what is their problem? Do you know what I mean, though? What is their problem?"

"Their problem is you, Den, you stupid bastard."

"No, baby, no, I mean besides me, what is their problem? Ice, man, you got any idea?"

"Their problem is that Ivan has convinced them they're something important and precious and beautiful but what they don't know yet is that one day he is going to rip their hearts out before their eyes, laugh in their faces, and force them to watch as he devours their very souls from a silver platter before washing it down with a glass of their own bitter tears."

"Ooh! Karaoke!"

Berwald turned his stunned gaze from Iceland's rather horrifying monologue, followed Tino's jumpy, excited gesture, then barely had time to keep up as the bouncing Finn took off across the street. The others seemed more than happy to follow Tino into the dark doorway, passing under a brightly flashing sign that read that most evil of all Japanese words: Karaoke. Berwald let out a long, resigned sigh, but had no choice but to follow.

The 'karaoke' bar was nothing but a fairly small, dodgy looking pub, filled with middle aged men who all stopped, turned, and stared at the five new arrivals. The music broke off, the housemates paused, and someone whistled. Denmark raised his fist in a salute. "Rock on." He nudged Iceland. "Hey, Ice, go dance on the bar."

Norway grabbed Iceland by a belt loop when he started to hurry off. "No, Ice." Norway glanced at Berwald. "He has a little trouble with sarcasm when he's drunk."

"Who's being sarcastic?" asked Denmark. Berwald raised his eyes to the ceiling, put a hand to his forehead, and wondered again just what the hell he was doing here.

"Hello!" cried Tino, waving cheerfully at the room in general.

Of course. That's why. Berwald took Tino's arm, put on his intimidation face, and led him to the bar. The music started again - some boring sounding ballad - followed moments later by a bored looking man on stage mumbling into the microphone. The men clustered around the tall tables went back to their drinks. The bartender looked over the bar and eyed the newcomers suspiciously. "You boys lose your way?"

Norway slammed a fifty down on the counter. "Not paying you to talk, bar bitch. Five shots of your strongest."

Denmark leant over Norway's shoulder. "And five beers."

"And five beers," added Norway.

"And some peanuts."

The bartender raised one dark, bushy eyebrow. Norway leant further over the bar. "You heard the man. Peanuts."

The bartender rolled his eyes, spread five shot glasses on the table, and reached for a tall, green bottle. Berwald's eyebrows shot up – this was the last thing any of his housemates needed at this stage. "Maybe that's not th'best…" It was too late. The others reached for the shots and downed them. Denmark cheered, Iceland coughed, and Norway slammed the glass back down on the bar before glaring at the bartender.

"Beer."

"Peanuts!"

Tino stared into his shot glass. "What is this? It tastes like burning liquorice."

"Abs'nthe," said Berwald.

Tino's face brightened "Oh! Like the French poets drank! I've seen the old pictures, I'm supposed to start seeing fairies now, aren't I?"

Iceland snorted. "Been seeing 'em all night, Fin. Here." Iceland passed Tino a beer and Berwald wondered if it would incredibly inappropriate to take it off him. He decided it would be, but was relieved when Tino took one sip and made a face.

"Eurgh, that's horrible. Here, Berwald, you can have it. Hey Norway, Norge, buy me another of those purple ones." Norway did so, and Berwald gritted his teeth.

"Hey Sweden," grinned Denmark, leaning back against the bar. "Why haven't we seen you dance yet? All Swedish men can dance. Get up on the bar with Iceland."

Norway again had to grab Iceland by a belt loop. "Sarcasm, Ice."

Berwald raised an eyebrow. "Is that th'same as all Danish men are unwashed alc'holics?"

Denmark threw back his head and laughed. "And Swedes all talk like this -" Denmark waved his hands in the air. "'I em freekeeshly tall und hef-a noo sense-a ooff hoomuoor. Hurty flurty schnipp schnipp!'"

Berwald tried not to roll his eyes. It was only a matter of time before the Swedish Chef jokes. "Sure, 'kay, and Danes're obsessed with bicyclin' and pornography."

"Hey, hey." Denmark raised a finger, a stern expression on his face. "I have never ridden a bicycle in my life. And at least my furniture doesn't all come from IKEA."

"No, it all comes from th'side of th'road."

Iceland whistled. "Ooh, snap." He elbowed Norway. "Isn't this kind of hot?"

"More absinthe!" shouted Norway. "By God, more absinthe."

Berwald shook his head and turned away, only to find that Tino was nowhere to be seen. His stomach dropped to his feet. "Where's Tino?"

Iceland took a sip of beer and pointed. Berwald scanned the crowd before spotting Tino standing near the stage, looking over the karaoke song list and talking animatedly with three large, hairy men dressed in head to toe leather. One looked like Crocodile Dundee in bondage gear, one had a sheepskin collar on his jacket, and one had gravity-defying hair and was smoking something that looked suspiciously like a joint.

Denmark laughed raucously, noticing at the same time. "Well, if it isn't Goldilocks and the three bears!"

Berwald's eyes flashed and he rushed over. Tino looked up from the plastic song book and broke into a delighted smile.

"Berwald! This is Oz, Ned, and…" Tino turned to the smallest, blond man. "I'm sorry, your name was?"

"You can call me Kiwi, love."

"Isn't his accent awesome?" breathed Tino."He's from New Zealand. Oz is from Australia, and Ned is from Holland, and they're all helping me find a song to sing!"

"Berwald!" cried Oz cheerfully. "Your boyfriend's adorable!" Berwald glared, but Oz just laughed. "Settle down, sweetheart, this one's mine." Oz leant over and kissed Ned on the cheek. Ned just blew out a mouthful of smoke. Yep – definitely a joint. "So, mate, you gonna sing a duet with this adorable boyfriend of yours?"

Tino burst into laughter. "Oh, no, he's not my boyfriend, Oz!"

Oz looked Berwald up and down, his dark eyes perceptive beneath even darker brows, his lips twisted in a smirk beneath a moustache worthy of the Village People. "Why not? He's gorgeous. He's got that strong, silent, kills things with his bare hands look going for him."

Tino just giggled again. "Berwald doesn't kill things, Oz! Berwald's really nice. He's never hurt anyone, ever, have you Berwald?"

Berwald lowered his eyes. He was thankfully saved from having to answer that awkward question when a familiar Euro-pop tune blasted from the stage, followed by Tino gasping, jumping, and crying out, "Oh my GOD! I LOVE this song!" Then he disappeared. Berwald blinked and spun around frantically.

"Good luck, mate." Berwald turned back to see Oz, Ned and Kiwi grinning at him. Well, Oz and Kiwi, anyway – Ned just sort of scowled. Oz continued, "This is the bit where you, ya know, run after the bloke or something."

"You do make a very cute couple, love," said Kiwi, winking.

Ned blew out a mouthful of smoke and asked smoothly, "Have you ever considered leather, Berwald?"

Berwald paused for only a moment. "Not rec'ntly," he answered, before pushing into the crowd in search for one very drunk, very happy, very still-damn-perfect Finn. It was only seconds before that familiar, though slightly slurred voice blasted through the pub.

"I LOVE THIS SONG!"

Berwald looked up to see Tino standing on stage with his shining violet eyes, his messy golden hair, his brilliant smile, and his tiny, tiny shorts. The room cheered in response and Tino started singing... or rather, shouting... just in time for the chorus.

"Waterloo - I was defeated you won the war." Tino grinned into the microphone, apparently attempting to sing as loud as humanly possible. A few shouts rang out from the crowd. "Waterloo – promise to love you forever more!"

Berwald felt his mouth drop open and his limbs turn rigid with shock. "Oh, m'God…"

"Waterloo – couldn't escape if I wanted to." The crowd started to clap along. "Waterloo – knowing my fate is to be with you!" Tino sang almost as badly as he danced. He also looked euphoric as he shouted into the microphone, and drew the attention of every person in the room. "Whoa oh oh oh, Waterloo - Finally facing my Waterloo!"

Berwald tried to rush for the stage but was stopped by a familiar, iron grip on his shoulder. Norway waved his beer. "And now you understand the 'No ABBA' rule."

Tino raised a hand above his head and lurched into the next verse. "My, my! I tried to hold you back but you were stronger!"

Denmark appeared beside them, cheering loudly and moving in some sort of mad, animated dance. "Woo yeah! Work it baby!"

"Oh yeah! And now it seems my only chance is giving up the fight."

Iceland threw an arm over Norway's shoulders, tilted his head to the side, and hummed thoughtfully. "I am never lending him my boots again, they look way too good on him."

Tino swung his hips in time with the music. "And how could I ever refuse?"

Berwald shook his head, partly transfixed and partly horrified. "We have to stop him!"

"I feel like I win when I lose!"

Denmark grabbed Berwald by the arm as he tried again to charge for the stage. "Are you kidding me? This is gold! Ooh, wait, I gotta get this on film…" Denmark took his phone from his pocket and started filming.

"Waterloo - I was defeated you won the war." All Tino's insecurities seemed to have melted away as he stood on this silly little stage in this silly little bar, singing his heart out to a brilliantly cliché Swedish pop tune. "Waterloo - promise to love you forever more!"

The crowd was cheering now, everyone in the pub caught up as Tino sang wildly into the microphone, waving his hand in the air and attempting some strange kind of clothed striptease. Berwald was caught between cheering along and wanting to beat down every man in the place.

"Waterloo - couldn't escape if I wanted to. Waterloo – knowing my fate is to be with you."

And finally Berwald stopped, thought clearly, and calmed down. Because Tino was adorable, and a little odd, and yes, he was drunk as hell, but he was also having the time of his life. Denmark raised his beer in the air, cheering; Iceland put his fingers to his mouth and whistled; and even Norway almost cracked a smile. Berwald just put his hand to his head and watched as Tino tried to sing, tried to dance, and succeeded in drawing the entire room to their feet.

"Whoa oh oh oh, Waterloo – finally facing my Waterloo!"

And when Tino's eyes met his, violet and wild and joyful, Berwald felt the next words he sang fire through his ears and make mad, perfect sense. "So how could I ever refuse? I feel like I win when I lose!"

Well, Berwald laughed inwardly. Wasn't that the truth.

"Waterloo – couldn't escape if I wanted to. Waterloo – knowing my fate is to be with you!"

"Greenland! Faeroe! Man, you guys missed the most amazing night! Tell them, Berwald, tell them what an amazing night they missed. Oh, they're asleep. Night, Greenland! Night, Faeroe! No but Berwald, wouldn't you totally go and see ABBA if they reformed? You'd have to, you're, like, culturally obligated or something. Is it just me or is this staircase moving? It's like Hogwarts! I saw 'Mamma Mia' last year and it was fabulous and I'm not just saying that because you're Swedish and night, Den! Night, Norge! Don't stay up too late, hur hur. Ice, I swear, if you don't put that phone down and go to bed I will throw this traffic cone at you. How did I get this traffic cone? Oh look, Berwald, we're in my bedroom." Berwald let out a very deep breath, silently cursed Iceland for giving Tino that last shot of Jägermeister, then lowered Tino from his shoulder and set him on his feet.

"You're not scary at all, are you Berwald, not really… you're actually really nice." Tino smiled as he fell forward. Berwald caught him and set him back straight. "You're reeeally nice, Berwald."

Berwald waited until Tino was standing steadily, then reluctantly took his hands from Tino's shoulders. "'kay. Time fer bed."

Tino smiled again, softer this time, and tilted his head. "Do you think I'm nice?"

"Yes." Berwald really hoped he would not have to deal with more drunk talk. Tino's drunk talk was too endearingly senseless to take much more of.

"Oh, good. And you're cute too! Oops I wasn't supposed to say that out loud." Tino reached up and pressed his finger to Berwald's lips. "Ssh, don't tell anyone. You know, Berwald…" Tino pulled up straight and fixed Berwald with a focused glare. "I really, really like you."

"Oh," said Berwald. "Good."

"Do you…" Tino dropped his hand to Berwald's shoulder, lowered his gaze, and paused. "… like me?" Tino looked up slowly, entrancingly, with alluring eyes through long, dark lashes.

Berwald's throat turned dry and the room began to spin. He blinked a few times, his mind blank, his body frozen. He couldn't… he didn't… No, Berwald told himself firmly. Tino was drunk, and in no way actually interested in him. But Berwald still answered his question honestly. "Yes. V'ry much."

Tino giggled happily and started playing absently with Berwald's collar. "Do you think I'm sexy?"

Oh shit oh shit oh shit… Berwald could barely breathe. An inferno fired from the touch of Tino's hands, across Berwald's skin and into his veins, flooding his chest and his gut and spreading lower and… "Think yer sexy." Berwald summoned every ounce of strength in his possession, took Tino's warm, soft hands in his, and pushed them away. "Also think yer drunk." Tino did not take the hint. He flattened his hand on Berwald's chest and met his gaze earnestly.

"Berwald, that Australian in the bar, Oz, it's so funny, he thought you were my boyfriend, isn't that funny?"

Berwald again tried to push Tino gently away, fighting the treacherous desire flooding his veins. "H'larious."

"Berwald?"

"Yes?"

"I... I..." Tino's expression went blank and he turned white. "I think I'm going to throw up." Tino promptly bent at the waist and vomited on Berwald's shoes. Neither moved. After a few very long, very silent moments, Tino looked up slowly, his face distraught. "I think I need to go to bed," he whispered.

Berwald actually had to stop himself from laughing. No one but Tino could look so perfectly adorable at a moment like this. Berwald nodded and attempted to smile kindly – not an expression he was used to, and he wasn't sure he managed it. But when Tino looked at him with those wide, helpless violet eyes, Berwald's heart melted. And he'd really thought he couldn't fall any further. "Yes. I'll help you."

Berwald practically carried Tino to the bed, pulled off the ridiculous white boots, and drew the covers up to his chest. Tino was asleep the second his head hit the pillow. Berwald could not stop himself staring silently at Tino's sleeping face. His eyelashes dark against pale skin; his lips stained blue from coloured vodka.

And Berwald found himself wondering, for the first time, if Tino might ever feel something for him. But even as he thought it, Berwald knew it was impossible. Tino was pure and strange and beautiful; he wanted gardens and family and white picket fences. What did Berwald have? Crippling debt and a criminal history. He was not worthy of someone as good as Tino.

Berwald allowed himself to very briefly brush a lock of hair from Tino's warm forehead before turning and leaving the room. "G, night Tino."

Next Chapter

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

#catch perfect chapter 6

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millieswickedbooks · 5 years

Text

the somewhat tragic story of georgie’s savior - chapter two

CHAPTER TWO: how she became a savior in the small town of Derry, Maine and the consequences of being the savior in the small town of Derry, Maine

(2/?)

previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter >>

pairing: Loser’s Club x black!OC (platonic), Pennywise x black!OC (NOT ROMANTIC AT ALL)

word count: 5,546

WARNINGS: PENNYWISE, police brutality, racism, racist slurs, swearing, blood, hospital, mention of child abuse, mention of harassment/assault

☹

Previously:

"Room 309A." And with that, she was off to 309A. She took a seat in the chairs provided out there. She decided it was best not to pace and to just sit and let her foot anxiously bounce. She checked the time. It was 5:09 p.m. 'Lord, what a long day,' she thought. After 7 minutes of sitting quietly, she began to drift off in the seat. Jordyn couldn't stop herself. She was so tired.

She was later forcibly awakened to someone shaking her shoulders.

☹

JORDYN SHOT UP IN HER seat.

"Huh?" She looked around groggily. There was no one around her but a couple nurses down the hall, quietly talking to each other. She groaned, her head spinning from how quickly she sat up. Her head is still pounding from when Bowers smashed her head onto the rocks at the creek. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the pain.

'What the hell just touched me?' She thought to herself. She barely had time to think about that matter because soon, running down the hall, was the Denbrough's, all looking worried, anxious, scared, the whole works. Sharon Denbrough, Georgie's mother, was the first to see Jordyn and she gasped, making Jordyn shoot out her seat.

Sharon made her way over to her and she didn't know what to expect from her. Would she yell at her? Cry? Thank her for saving her child? Would she hit Jordyn, thinking that she was the one who hurt Georgie? She couldn't help but tense up when Sharon Denbrough wrapped her arms around her and sobbed on her shoulders.

"Oh my god, Jordyn. Thank you so much…" Sharon praised her as she hugged her tighter. Jordyn bit her lip to conceal her groan at the pressure of the hug being applied to her bruises on her ribs and, not wanting to get blood on the older woman's clothes, decided against hugging her back. When Sharon pulled away, she looked down at Jordyn and gasped at her appearance, making Jordyn feel very self-conscious.

"They didn't check you into a room of your own?" Zack Denbrough, Georgie and Bill’s father, asked Jordyn, staring down at her bloody clothes, cuts, and bruises.

"No, Mr. Denbrough, I'm okay. I got those a while ago," She explained, motioning to her bruised legs. She knew that Mr. Denbrough knew she was lying but she decided against ratting Henry out, she didn't want to deal with that right now. "I just wish I could shower and change at least... Did they tell you what happened?"

"They said that Georgie was brought to the hospital by you and was in surgery. I've never been so scared in my life," Mrs. Denbrough said, her voice shaky. "What happened?"

Jordyn thought about talking about the clown. She was seriously considering saying it. But she didn't want one of the only families who weren't racist or gave her dirty looks to turn on her. Anyways, who would believe her? They'd think she was crazy and that she was responsible for what happened to Georgie. She decided to lie.

"I honestly don't know how it happened. I was walking home in the rain and I heard Georgie screaming... I ran over to him and scooped him up and... his right arm was gone," Mrs. Denbrough gasped, her eyes brimming with tears. She must've not known the details. God, Jordyn felt terrible. She continued, "I was in shock. I ran all the way from Jackson Street to the hospital. When I got here they immediately took him into surgery. I've been sitting here ever since." Jordyn finished. The Denbrough's were in shock. She looked behind them and saw Bill Denbrough, who had tears running down his face. It was such a heartbreaking thing to look at, she wanted so badly to go over and comfort the boy.

"The blood... is that...?" Mrs. Denbrough asked, fear in her eyes, almost as if she didn’t want to know the answer.

"Georgie’s? Yes, it is..." Jordyn answered, feeling terrible that she had to break the news to Georgie's family. She felt guilty, as if this was her fault.

"Oh my God," Mr. Denbrough exclaimed as the realization dawned on him. Mrs. Denbrough buried her head in her hands. Bill just stared at the ground. Just then the doctor came down the hall and stopped before them.

"George Denbrough?" They all turned around to look at him. Mrs. Denbrough spoke out first.

"That's my son! Is he okay?" She asked desperately, going up to the doctor.

"George is okay. We managed to stop the bleeding and he is getting blood transfusion right as we speak. He is stable and resting right now, and should wake up in a few hours. You got lucky, he must be a natural-born fighter..." The doctor commented and smiled.

Everyone let out a breath which no one knew that they were holding and Mrs. Denbrough hugged the doctor. He soon left, most likely going back to work, and Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough decided to go to the cafeteria to get some coffee, not before hugging Jordyn once more and praising her for saving Georgie's life. Jordyn had never thought about it as saving his life, which she found quite funny. Because now she was a lifesaver, something she never thought she would be.

Bill had decided to stay with Jordyn, in the waiting room. They sat in silence, Jordyn was trying to figure out whether it was a comfortable one or not. Bill was looking down, coughing occasionally. He was in his pajamas too. Poor kid was probably sick. Just then Bill spoke up.

“H-how did y-you get th-th-those bruises a-and c-cuts?” Bill stuttered out. She almost forgot the thirteen-year-old dealt with that. She also knew Bill has had his incidents with Henry, which caused her heart to wrench at the thought, and felt that she could trust him.

"A while before I got to Georgie, I had a run-in with Henry Bowers and his goons down by the creek," Jordyn explained to Bill, causing him to look up, worry in his eyes. "I'm fine, they were mad at me, roughed me up a little bit and almost drowned me down there but they left before that would happen.”

Bill still looked worried and said, "Y-you sho-should've been ch-checked into y-your r-room." He coughed then, covering his mouth. "Y-you c-could have w-w-w-water in yo-your lungs."

"I'd rather not deal with that right now. This is about Georgie, not me." Jordyn told Bill. He opened his mouth as if to protest against what Jordyn was saying, but she beat him to it. "Okay, Bill? Promise me you won't tell them about what I just told you..." Bill looked hesitant and Jordyn gave him a look, pleading with him.

"O-okay, fine. I p-p-promise." Jordyn sighed in relief, leaning back into her chair. It was silent again. It felt comfortable to Jordyn. Breaking the silence, Bill spoke up, once again.

"Thank you," He whispered but Jordyn couldn’t hear him.

"What?" She asked, genuinely confused.

"Th-th-thank you. I-I-I n-never got a-around t-t-to thanking y-y-you, for G-Geo...Georgie. He's alive b-because of you. I d-d-don't know w-what would've happened i-if he was gone. I-I love him s-so much. He's s-s-so young…" Jordyn heard his voice was cracking, making her heart clench. She scooted closer to Bill and wrapped her arms around him, hoping a hug would help and that he wouldn’t mind that she’s touching him. He responded by leaning into her touch, getting even closer to her, which made Jordyn smile.

“Hey, you guys don’t have to thank me for anything,” She whispered to him, her chin on his head, closing her eyes as she rubbed his back, comforting the smaller boy. Just then their silence was, for the third time, interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Jordyn and Bill pulled away slightly, facing whoever made the noise. It was two police officers.

☹

The police officer, whose name tag read ‘Miller’, spoke. “Hello, are you Miss Garcia?” Bill and Jordyn looked at each other then at the officer.

“Yes that is me… Is there a problem?” Jordyn asked, feeling uncomfortable underneath the two officers’ gaze.

“Miss, you need to come with us,” the other officer informed her, his nametag read ‘Kelly’.

“W-why?” Bill asked him, wondering, just like Jordyn, why the police was there for her.

“It's just for a couple of questions. It's routine,” Officer Kelly explained. Jordyn didn’t like this. Something felt off. She looked up at Officer Miller and made eye contact with him. She knew that look he had in his eyes. It was suspicion.

“I didn’t do anything…” Jordyn told them, not liking where this was going. Everything in her told her to run but turning her back to police officers was not a good idea. At all.

“No one said you did anything…” Officer Kelly, raising an eyebrow at her in suspicion. There it fucking was! Jordyn knew she wasn’t jumping to conclusions.

“But you do! You think I did something to Georgie! I can tell! I didn’t do anything to him!” Jordyn said, getting very defensive, standing up now, Bill following her actions. The officers seemed very annoyed.

“Hey, you lower your voice now, n*gger…” Jordyn thought she was going insane. Did Officer Kelly just… call her that? No, she must’ve been going crazy, her ears are deceiving her. Bill’s eyes widen at the use of that word.

“You are coming with us whether you like it or not,” Officer Miller said, an angry look in his eyes as walked over to Jordyn and aggressively grabbed her wrists, placing her in handcuffs. She gasped at how tight they were, the metal pinching her skin. “You’re a terrible person… his arm? A six-year-old’s arm? You are going to rot in prison, n*gger.”

“G-get off her!” Bill yelled, trying to pry Officer Miller’s arms off Jordyn.

“Back off kid,” Officer Kelly said as grabbed Bill’s arm. “Wouldn’t want your n*gger friend here to get charged with resisting arrest as well.” This just angered Bill to no end. Just then, thank God, Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough come around the corner. They see us in this position and come running down.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Mr. Denbrough exclaimed when he arrived to the scene. “Hey! Get your hands off my son, right now!” Officer Kelly quickly let go of Bill.

“Why is Jordyn in handcuffs?” Mrs. Denbrough asked, looking scared and worried.

“M-mom! They w-were arresting her b-b-because they cl-claim she attacked G-Georgie! They w-wa-ant her in jail and are r-racist too!” Mrs. Denbrough gasped. Jordyn winced as Officer Miller’s grip got tighter. Jesus, the bruises just keep coming. “Th-they were calling her the-the n-word and told me th-they would cl-claim that she was re-re-resisting arrest as w-well.”

“What?!” Mrs. Denbrough yelled out. “You get your hands off her right now!”

“Ma’am–” Officer Kelly started but Mrs. Denbrough was not taking any of his shit.

“I honestly cannot believe you would even consider the possibility that she could do this! Get your hands off her right now!” Mrs. Denbrough said, getting in the officer’s face. Jordyn was shocked at how angry Mrs. Denbrough was.

“I’m bringing this up to your bosses!” Mr. Denbrough exclaimed, looking infuriated.

“We are just bringing her in for some questions,” Officer Kelly looked kind of nervous. He was trying to cover it up.

“If a minor is in custody of the police, it's illegal to question them without a guardian present,” Bill said, very ‘matter-of-factly’ and at that moment Jordyn wanted to kiss the boy.

“Yes, that is true, and so I say, once again, you get your grimy hands off her right now,” Mrs. Denbrough looked about ready to kill. Officer Miller uncuffed Jordyn and she took a step towards the Denbrough’s. Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough immediately moved to stand in front of her, creating a barrier between her and the cops. Bill was holding her hand which caused her to blush.

“Okay since this isn’t going anywhere, we’ll get in contact with her father and we’ll all go down to the station,” Officer Kelly explained and Jordyn scoffed, good luck with that. Getting her father to do something other than go to work, get drunk and yell at her? It’s damn near impossible.

“Thank you,” Jordyn told the Denbrough’s after the cops left, the relief in her voice very evident. They were all looking at her, a mixture of relief, disbelief and anger on their faces, baffled at the fact that their town’s law enforcers would do this to a girl like Jordyn. Mrs. Denbrough went to hug her. Mr. Denbrough brought his oldest son into a bone-crushing hug, relief on his facial features.

After calming Bill’s parents down, Bill and Jordyn began to explain the situation, making sure not to leave out any details. The adults then decided to take a walk to calm themselves and to figure out what they would do to make those officers pay. Which left Bill and Jordyn once again alone, only having each other for entertainment.

After a while of them talking, Bill decided to nap, since his cold was making his chest hurt. Jordyn sat in silence with he napped. Minutes later, the same doctor from before showed up and made eye contact with Jordyn, who immediately sat up the moment the man appeared. She was dying to hear about Georgie’s status.

“How is he, Doc?” She asked, walking towards him so she wouldn’t have to speak any louder and accidentally wake up Bill.

“He’s doing just fine, the blood transfusion went well, his body accepted the blood with no issues. He’s up right now if you want to see him,” the doctor explained to her.

“Thank you so much, I was so worried,” Jordyn admitted, feeling utter relief to the news about Georgie’s condition.

“Well, thanks to you, the boy is alive. You can go talk to him but you have only a couple of minutes, he needs plenty of rest.”

“Thank you, so so much.” And with that Jordyn made her way down a few doors to Georgie’s room. She debated whether she should wake up Bill or get his parents to talk to Georgie first, since they were his parents after all, but Jordyn had to talk to Georgie first. The police were involved and her and Georgie had to get their story straight because the moment the word ‘clown’ would come out their mouths… Jordyn had an inkling that it wouldn’t end well for her. She then reached the door. She sighed, knowing that what she was about to do would be quite challenging, and altogether selfish but it was for Georgie’s good.

☹

Jordyn entered the room slowly, not knowing what she was about to see at first. The first thing she saw was darkness. The door opening shown some light into the darkened room. And with the hallway light she saw Georgie resting peacefully on the bed. The first thing she tried to do was turn on the light. The dark room was giving her a vibe she really didn’t want right now. But the light wouldn’t turn on.

“What the hell?” She asked herself. ‘You mean to tell me, Georgie has been lying in darkness this whole time?’ She thought to herself. After flicking the switch over and over again, she gave up and made her way over to his bed.

Just as she reached the middle of the room, lighting outside struck outside, causing light to flash all over the room for a split second. And in that split second, she saw something. Something that made her jump with a scream.

In the corner of the room was that clown thing, only this time it was way closer than last time. It was like over 6 feet tall, had the same white clothes, big head and red hair. She saw his bright yellow eyes and he was grinning at her. His sharp, rotten teeth were poking out and he was staring right at her. Jordyn put her hand over her mouth, muffling the rest of her scream, her eyes wide with fear. Just then, it was once again dark and Jordyn didn’t know what to do. It could be anywhere. She could run but it would catch her and kill her, or she could she run and it would get Georgie. Jordyn could swear she had never felt this much fear in her life. She couldn’t see. She was stuck. It could kill her right there. It could kill her and Georgie. Jordyn then heard a voice near her ear.

“You interrupted my meal, Jojo-Bear,” Jordyn felt her hair stand at the back of her neck as she gasped at the name. Her mother was the only one who called her that. How did this thing know that name? “And you’re gonna pay for that. Buuuut not just yet… I can already tell you’re gonna be soooooooo much fun to play with.”

“Jordyn, is that you?” Another child’s voice, which she recognized as Georgie’s, called out softly.

And with that, light suddenly flooded the room. Jordyn looked at Georgie and saw that he was very much awake now. Jordyn shuddered and then whipped around the room, looking for any sign of that clown.

“What are you doing? Why was it so dark before?” Georgie asked looking at her weirdly as she returned from checking the bathroom and then proceeded to check underneath the bed. Jordyn after checking that the coast was clear, well for now, sat down on Georgie’s bed, still really tense. Her mind was racing. What is that thing? How did it know her nickname her mother gave her? What did it mean by ‘fun to play with’? Did she just imagine that? There’s no way it could’ve gotten in here… How did it even get in here?

Georgie saw Jordyn’s conflicted face and felt worried for her. Even though he didn’t know much about her, he knew she saved him from the evil clown in the sewers and that meant she was a good person. He tried again. “Jordyn?”

This caused her train-of-thought to stop and she looked at him. His concerned face brought her back to reality and reminded her what she came here to do. After what just happened, she knew she had to do this, despite how guilty it made her feel.

“Georgie. I'm sorry, I must’ve freaked you out,” she began. “I just came to check up on you. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine now. I’m really tired though.” He stated.

“I bet you are, you’ve been through so much today, if I were you, I’d probably sleep for an entire month,” Jordyn joked, causing the six-year-old boy to laugh lightly at her comment. She smiled down at him and her eyes landed on where his right arm should be. The sight of the wrapped up stump brought tears to her eyes. She quickly wiped them away and decided to get down to business.

“Georgie, I’m about to tell you something very, very important and I need you to listen to me very carefully,” She stated, her voice going serious. Georgie could tell by her tone that she was going to say something vital. He nodded and waited for her to continue.

“Georgie, you can not tell anyone about the clown,” Jordyn implored. This seemed to take Georgie aback.

“But why? He’s the one who hurt me," Georgie countered, not getting why he shouldn’t tell anyone about the clown. They would put him away. Because he did something very bad to him. Like permanent time-out, forever.

“Georgie, I know I may sound weird but bear with me,” Jordyn said, trying to figure out how to word her next sentence. “We have to lie because no one will believe us.”

“Why won’t they believe us?” Georgie asked and Jordyn sighed, racking her brain for the right answer.

“Georgie, they won’t believe us when we tell them a clown attacked you because it sounds crazy and made-up,” Jordyn tried her best to explain.

“But–” Georgie began but Jordyn didn’t let him finish. She was going to try to convince him using another way.

“Georgie, the police, they… they don’t like me,” She admitted. Georgie was confused once again.

“Why don’t they like you, Jordyn?” To him, he seemed like a really nice girl, not to mention that she saved him, again.

“They don’t like me because of the color of my skin,” She truthfully told him, letting that information sink into the boy.

“The police are one of those people?” Georgie asked, seeming shocked that the people that are supposed to protect him and keep him safe are mean to people with darker skin. “The mean people who don’t like others because they are born different than them?”

“Yeah,” Jordyn was surprised at how smart Georgie was at such a young age. The boy never understood why people didn’t like people with darker skin, they were born that way, they aren’t bad at all. His mom told him to stay away from people like that.

Jordyn continued. “So since they don’t like me, when they think we are lying, they’ll think I was the one who hurt you, and that I made you lie to them, and then they’ll take me away for a long time. Do you understand that Georgie?” The boy nodded his head. He didn’t want her to go away. He liked her here. She made him feel safe.

“I don’t want you to leave, Jordyn,” he said, tears brimming his eyes and his bottom lip quivering. Her heart ached for the small child.

“Okay, then let’s make up a story to tell the police.” Then it seemed to click in Georgie’s mind.

“You want me to lie?” Georgie asked, his eyes widening in shock at what Jordyn wanted him to do.

“Yes, please, please do this for me, Georgie” she begged the little boy.

“But Mom and Dad say to always tell the truth,” the child countered. Jordyn sighed, knowing she’d have to persuade him again.

“It’s just this once, Georgie, because remember if we tell the truth then I’ll get taken away, to some bad, bad place. And what’s gonna happen if the clown shows up again? I’m gone and no one but us knows he exists, who is going to protect you from the evil clown?” Jordyn insinuated. Then Georgie fully understood but he was hesitant.

Jordyn, on the other hand, was feeling as if she was the biggest piece of shit person in all of Derry. The whole situation was just awful and selfish and she couldn’t even believe she was doing this to the poor child. She was asking this little boy to lie so she could protect herself. She felt absolutely pathetic.

She tried to reassure Georgie once again. “But it’s okay for now, because I killed the clown.” She lied to him.

“You killed him?!” Georgie said, not believing it at first.

“Yes, I killed him and I have stick around to protect you, just in case he comes back to life somehow and tries to hurt you again. I don’t want you to be alone. I’ll protect you every day. I’ll become your babysitter! How about that?”

After thinking it over, the little boy nodded his head. “Okay, I won’t tell anyone about the clown.”

“And by anyone, that means anyone and everyone. That includes Mommy, Daddy, your friends at school, the police, strangers, teachers, adults, everyone. And Bill, too. Especially not him. Not unless I say so. Promise?” Jordyn asked, just to be sure. Georgie nodded, understanding that he had to keep this secret a secret as if his life depended on it.

“I promise.”

“Okay, we’ll tell them that an animal we’ve never seen before attacked you. We can’t describe it because it moved too quickly and it’s scary for you to remember. And that, you saw me grab you and tell you I’m taking you to the hospital but that you can’t remember anything past that because you passed out. Then, I’ll say I arrived after it... took your arm and that I caught a glimpse of it but then it disappeared. Then I carried you to the hospital.” Jordyn explained, and Georgie nodded, knowing what he had to say in order to keep Jordyn from going to the bad place the mean policemen would take her. He saw it as a way to repay Jordyn for saving him, instead of lying. He viewed as saying thank you to her. Jordyn sighed in relief and leant down to kiss the youngest Denbrough’s forehead.

“Thank you, Georgie, you have no idea how much this means to me,” Jordyn continued, feeling glad that she managed to convince Georgie. She told the boy to rest because their time was up and that when he wakes up again his mom and dad would be here to check up on him.

Before she left, she made sure to do another check around the room to see if that clown was still there. After making sure that it was just Georgie in his room, she made her way out, back to the waiting room, slightly feeling as if she was being watched. Little did she know, there was a red balloon, floating right next to Georgie’s window, the entire time.

☹

Weeks later, after the whole incident, Georgie had been released from the hospital and was now making a nice recovery. Mrs. Denbrough had brought both Georgie and Jordyn to the police to give their statement, since Jordyn’s father seemed to disappear more than usual after Georgie’s attack, she never got the chance to bring the topic up to him.

Jordyn had a hunch that he was avoiding her this week, he which he chose the perfect week to do, might she add, and it angered her but at the same time, she felt relieved. She doesn’t want to have to deal with her father’s wrath after having to ask him to join her down to the police station. Her father isn’t exactly the nicest man alive. She really wasn’t lying when she said that getting her father to do anything other than go to work, get drunk and yell at her was impossible.

Furthermore, Georgie had kept their promise and didn’t tell the police about the clown. Their stories had matched and despite how hesitant and suspicious the officers, they were free to go. Soon the police were searching for some made-up wild unidentifiable animal, mostly a bear or a mountain lion of some sort, and told the people of Derry to beware since it had brutally attacked a young boy.

At first, Jordyn felt bad that she was sending the police on a useless goose chase but it distracted them from her and at the same time, she liked knowing she was wasting those racists’ time. It was like payback in her eyes.

Throughout the following weeks, the Denbrough’s settled down. Georgie was still getting used to being left-handed but he was happy with his family. Jordyn, after talking to Ms. Denbrough, had become Georgie’s and Bill’s babysitter, like she promised Georgie. It was a win/win situation, if they really thought about it.

Jordyn came over every day, now having a reason to break her stupid promise she made to herself of never going out after her Bower’s beating, she got to avoid seeing her dad, she was making money and she wasn’t as lonely. Bill and Georgie were happy to have her around. After she warmed up to them, they soon realized that she was really funny and nice to be around.

Also, Jordyn thought that after the whole incident and talking with the police, everything would go back to normal. But nope. Jordyn soon figured out that word got around about her and Georgie really quickly and she was now known as a savior in Derry. She was even put on Derry’s breaking news on TV and was put on the front paper of the newspaper! She was shocked.

While she walked down the main streets of Derry or at school, more people stared at her and some even thanked her for her bravery but some racists just couldn’t believe a black girl could do something good and glared at her even more. She just ignored them, like she always.

Also, Bill had introduced Jordyn to his three best friends, Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier. They accepted her really quickly and she hung out with them almost every day since she babysitted Billy and Geo almost every day. It was kind of awkward at first, hanging out with boys two years younger than her but she soon realized the kids were pretty cool. And after warming up to them they all just… clicked. She got along with all of the boys, forming different little bonds with all of them.

Her and Bill had more of a brother-sister friendship. They saw each other the most, so they knew most of each other’s secrets. She was always looking out for the stuttering boy, and he was always looking out for her.

With Eddie, she had more of a motherly friendship with him. Even though she perfectly knew the boy could take care of himself and that he didn’t need someone to smother him, since his overprotective mother did that enough, she couldn’t help but feel like she had to protect the boy. She would always defend him when she could tell he was getting beaten down. He liked how she made him feel safe and how she gave him a sense of independency that his mother would have rather die than to give him.

Richie and Jordyn had a partners-in-crime type of friendship. Always helping each other when the other was in trouble, always doing little pranks on the other boys, joking around and teasing each other always. You could always hear them laughing at something, whether it was at each other, their dumb puns or their comebacks, they knew how to give each other a good time.

But with Stan, it was almost the complete opposite. They had a very laid-back type of friendship. They could always come to each other if they had to calm down, they would sneak out of each other’s houses to have quiet walks late at night. They could talk about anything, about their day, controversial topics, anything that came to mind. They also had the best inside jokes, and whenever it was mentioned or referenced in any type of way, they would literally laugh their asses off while Bill, Eddie and a very irritated Richie would just stand there confused as to what just happened.

She was happy with her new friends and she soon realized she felt truly happy for the first time ever since her mother’s disappearance. A thing she swore she thought she would never feel.

But what was most important to her and put her on edge the most was the fact that she hadn’t seen the clown since her encounter with it in Georgie’s hospital. After Georgie’s attack, a lot of kids had gone missing, so many have gone missing that the town has a curfew now, and it left a sinking feeling in her stomach. She almost felt guilty. But what could she truly do? No one would believe her.

She was constantly looking behind her back, always scanning whatever room she was going to enter before actually entering it, was constantly tense and she could get scared more easily, which Richie just enjoyed so much.

Her usually peaceful dreams had been plagued with nightmares of darkness, kid’s screams, yellow eyes and sharp, bloody teeth. It was tiring on her part, to act as if she wasn’t fearing for her and Georgie’s life 24/7, and to have to reassure Georgie that it was dead. She hated always being on edge.

She felt as if she was being watched constantly and she wanted to crawl out of her skin and hide in a dark hole forever. But she had to be strong for Georgie and just ignore the feeling of being watched, telling herself that it was nothing but her paranoia and possible PTSD. But little did she know that she was correct about being watched.

A pair of gleaming, sinister yellow eyes watched her walk down her regular path she took every day to walk to school. IT could smell her fear and its’ mouth watered. IT could just take her right then and there. But no, IT had to wait. After taking a peek into her mind, and saw it as a gold mine of fears. Behind the ‘brave’ act this girl put up was a messed up, scared little girl.

‘What if making her even more scared, made her taste even better?’ IT laughed, knowing that he would have a lot of fun with her. She had no idea that that summer, which was rapidly approaching, would be a memorable one, but just because it was memorable, that didn’t mean it would be a good one.

☹

and there’s chapter two, hope y’all enjoyed it ♡

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likesugarandcyanide · 6 years

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Delicious [Part 1] Irresistible [Henry Bowers]

Disclaimer: I do not profit from this story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s). Evelyn Mathews and Julia Hall belong to me.

Please pay attention to the warning tags. This work has adult themes, and mentions various forms of violence - sexual and physical.

“I am totally fucked.”

Evelyn laid uncomfortably over a blank canvas as she painted a mid-50’s high school landscape for her school’s theatre course. The thick smell of paint wafted across the room; big metal fans circulated the humid afternoon air. As Evelyn removed the sweat from her brow, she smeared a fat bead of white paint across her cheekbone. Her interest was on the piece – Grease was set to be preformed 2 weeks before the beginning of summer break – but with her best friend hovering over her, Evelyn was having trouble focusing on wrapping up before science class.

Fifteen-year-old Julia Hall glanced down at her, waiting for a reply. She had skipped gym class, but still wore her one piece uniform. Her sweat band was lose and bobbed around her neck as she tapped her foot in annoyance.

“Evie! I swear; you hear about as well as my grandpa does.” Julia rolled her eyes and sighed. “This is important and I need all your attention.”

Evelyn knew Julia wouldn’t leave her be, not until she was satisfied; the teenager dropped her brush into the cup of water at her side and glanced over her shoulder. “I know I’ll regret asking, but what have you done?” Her eyes widened in surprise at the look of sadness on her friend’s face.

“I got Henry Bowers an F on the math test. He was cheating and all those rumors he spread about Mr. Draper and I came to a head.” Julia crossed her arms beneath her chest. Her eyes were damp with tears. “I … I thought he wouldn’t know it was me, but fucking Greta Bowie overheard me. I think she may have told him, because Patrick was lookin’ for me in gym class.”

“But you don’t know for sure he found out,” Evelyn claimed. She could tell Julia was on the brink of a breakdown; the nervous teen was breathing hard like she had run a marathon.

Julia shook her head to disagree, but she wasn’t sure. She had a bad feeling that Greta ratted her out; she hated Julia. But maybe her friend was right. Maybe she was just scared because Henry had a reputation for hurting others; people who crossed him or got him in trouble with the teachers. Her legs stopped trembling, but her heart was still beating like a drum inside her chest.

“Can you walk home with me today?”

“It’s important that I finish this.” Evelyn gestured with her head at the canvas in front of her. But the frown on her friend’s face made her reconsider. She sighed in annoyance and squeezed the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “If it means so much to you, I’ll walk you home. But Monday I need to stay over and finish.”

Julia smiled and bounced on the toes of her feet. “You have a deal.” She kneeled down beside Evelyn and watched her go back to working on the canvas. A gentle laugh spilled from her mouth.

“What’s so funny?” Evelyn briefly glanced at her before checking her work. Did I mess up? Everything looked decent enough; not her best work. Given the time frame she was asked to paint it, Evelyn thought she was doing fine.

“I’m sorry, Evie. It’s just that your appearance is on par with Bozo the Clown; head of tightly curled bright hair and white paint on your face.” Julia tried to rub it from her cheek, but it wouldn’t come up. “Your lipstick is even smeared.”

Evelyn cracked a smile and dropped her brush into the cup of murky water again. She gathered her paints and stood up with a grunt. “Help me clean up, then we can see about getting this paint off my face before class starts.” Her friend agreed with a nod.

Mrs. Peterson gave the class a free period and Evelyn chose to use it to rest her eyes. She sat and listened to the others talk amongst themselves, hiding her face in her arms. Julia chickened out and skipped again, deciding to hide in the bathroom until the end of the day. The weary teen couldn’t blame her; they shared the same class with Patrick and Greta.

Evelyn was nodding off when someone slammed their books on the desk top beside her. She lifted her head and glanced at the person in annoyance; Patrick sneered at her. Speak of the devil. He sat in the empty seat beside her – Julia’s seat – and crossed his legs at the ankle.

“What do I owe the pleasure, Hockstetter?” Evelyn yawned and moved her arms into her lap. She wasn’t happy about being woke up.

Patrick licked his chapped lips and looked her over. Not too bad. She had red hair; curly and bright. Her legs were thin and long, crossed at the knee. His hands twitched, eager to touch her smooth skin; Henry gave him an order. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and glanced into her unamused eyes. “Henry is lookin’ for your little friend. You see her anywhere?”

Evelyn stopped herself from looking surprised. Greta told Henry after all; she had hoped she wouldn’t. Her fingers curled around the hem of her floral dress in anger. She was tempted to tell him off, but she knew better; she’d be on Henry’s radar. “I haven’t, but I’ll be sure to let her know he’s looking for her when I do.”

“I know she’s come to you.” Patrick leaned over and placed his hand onto her knee. “She fucked up real bad, sweetheart. Henry will find her and when he does, she’ll be in a world full of hurt. Have her come to us and Henry might let her off without cuttin’ up her pretty face too bad.”

“What’s his damage? He’s been drilling her all school year; calling her names and spreading rumors about her. She’s not going to just walk up and let him fuck with her.” Evelyn narrowed her eyes and sneered at the lanky teenager. She flinched as Patrick dug his fingers into her skin.

“Things will be much worse for the little teacher fucker if we have to find her. Henry is going to kill her, you know?”

Evelyn snorted in laughter. “He was caught cheating. It wasn’t her fault and even if Julia did tell on him, it’s not like he won’t get himself caught and fail again.” She didn’t expect Henry to even pass the grade. Why is he getting so worked up over this? Her eyes moved down to her thigh as Patrick rubbed his thumb against her skin. She swatted away his hand and scooted back in her desk.

“Henry won’t like that attitude.” He snatched up his books and gave Evelyn another bold look. “I’ll be seeing you, sweetheart.” Patrick left her, moving to the other side of the room – Greta sat watching.

Fuck! We’re totally fucked. Evelyn tried her best to ignore them; they mocked her loud enough for her to hear. She laid down her head, forcing her eyes closed. The rest of the time seemed to slowly tick by. She had become a target.

Julia was close to tears; her worse fear had come to light. Henry Bowers and his gang were looking for her. Evelyn helped her get out of school without Henry noticing; his attention seemed to be elsewhere. She convinced her friend to walk her to the milling company – her father worked there. It was closer than her home and Julia feared the 4 bullies would catch up.

“Thank you for this. I just know Henry is probably looking for me.” Her arms curled beneath her chest, but Evelyn could tell that she was nervous. Her eyes darted back and forth like she was expecting Henry to pop out of thin air.

“Maybe not,” Evelyn tried to assure her. Her hand reached out to touch her shoulder. Julia was trembling with fear. “He’s simple minded so maybe he saw someone else and forgot about you.”

Julia gently smiled and patted her hand. She knew that her friend was trying to help, but something felt off to her. She allowed Evelyn to lead her down the foot path into Derry square; the town was teeming with people, but no one even sparred them a look.

As they reached the Center Street Drug Store, Evelyn saw Greta standing inside near the window. The bratty teenager noticed them and lifted her hand, dragging her finger across her neck as they passed. Evelyn grabbed Julia by the hand and pulled her along. Something wasn’t right.

“Hello ladies,” the voice of Patrick called out to them. He came out of the alley beside the store. In his hand, Patrick held a can of cheap hairspray. He walked up to them and slid between them, tossing his arms around each of their shoulders. His nose pressed against Evelyn’s hair as he took in her scent – Christian Dior’s Poison. He sucked in his bottom lip and laughed as she tried to push him away. “If you like this, you’re goin’ to love what’s waiting around the corner.” Patrick ushered them forward; no one stopped to help.

Evelyn noticed her friend give her a look of sheer terror. Should we try to run? She knew that they shouldn’t. Patrick was much faster than them; she saw him chase down students much faster than her. And even if she did manage to escape, Julia might not. She was Henry’s target; he didn’t want Evelyn anyway. She shook her head in disagreement and allowed Patrick to lead them into the alley. As expected, he brought them right to Henry.

Julia began to panic upon seeing him. She tried to push against Patrick, but the lanky teen had a grip on her. “Please no. Henry I’m sorry.” She let out a squeal of fright as Belch Huggins pulled her towards him, holding her in place. “I – I swear I wasn’t thinking.” Her eyes were damp with tears.

“Cut her, Henry. Make an example of the little bitch.” Patrick slipped his arm around Evelyn’s chest as she struggled. The aerosol can laid against her breasts. It was a warning.

Henry sneered at him, ordering him to shut up. He dug into his pocket and took out his pocket knife, extending the blade. The frightened girl shook her head and begged him not to hurt her; Henry just laughed. “Funny, you didn’t look so scared runnin’ your damn mouth to that teacher. I failed that fuckin’ test because of you; that’s stepping on my damn toes.”

“P-Please Henry. I won’t do it again.” Julia backed into Belch wanting desperately to be away from the mullet haired teen.

“Oh p-please – shut the fuck up. I don’t care about your excuses. The boys say to cut you; might teach you a lesson. But I want you to remember this.” Henry brought his knife up to her face and traced the blade around her lips. “Open your mouth. I’m going to cut out your tongue.”

Julia widened her scared eyes and shoved her elbow against Belch, inciting a groan of discomfort from him. She struggled in his grip, but Henry had Victor grab her from the side. Her heart was pounding against her chest; she didn’t want to die.

“She said sorry, Bowers. Can’t you let this one go?” Evelyn bit down on her tongue. She didn’t want to turn his attention over to her, but she couldn’t take much more of his mocking.

The mullet haired teen lashed out like a snake. He turned and pointed his knife at her; his narrowed eyes stared right through her. “Shut that bitch up. When I’m done with this one, I’ll take care of her too.” His knife pointed between the 2 of them.

Evelyn was jerked back. She groaned in pain, feeling the cold sting of the aerosol can against her collar bone. The warm breath on her neck brought goosepimples to her skin as Patrick laughed and nudged his crotch against her back.

“Told ya she’s a mouthy one,” he replied. Patrick brought his mouth to her ear and blew into it. He smiled as Evelyn shivered against him. “Didn’t I warn you, sweetheart?”

Evelyn brought her head back and hit him in the face. She hissed in pain as the can slammed into her chin. Her slender body was pushed onto the ground once Patrick recovered, kneading his sore nose. The young girl tried to sit up, but Patrick stepped on her back and kept her down.

“The fuck are you doing, Hockstetter?” Henry was livid. He leered at them.

Victor shook his head and smiled. “Can’t even hold down one girl, Pat.” Belch laughed at him.

“She’s feisty,” Patrick commented. He leaned down and pulled Evelyn into his arms, keeping her against his chest. “I like it.”

Henry cracked a smile, but narrowed his eyes as he glanced at the blonde haired girl in front of him. He wasn’t going to tell her again; his fingers dug into her skin and forced her mouth open. She cried out in fear, but he shut her up once the blade of his knife slid passed her lips. Henry tapped it against her teeth, smiling as she went stiff.

Fear grew in Evelyn’s heart; she had no reason to hide it. Henry would do it – the students he tortured and mocked were a certainty to the kind of darkness that was inside him. Her mind was racing, trying to come up with some kind of idea on how to keep him from mutilating her friend. Every path lead to blood; one of them was going to get hurt. Evelyn would rather it be herself – Julia and her family had already done so much for her. She made up her mind and cleared her throat. “Let it be me; cut out my tongue if you have to. Leave her alone and make an example out of me.” Evelyn figured it would work. Julia would no doubt feel guilty for it.

Henry turned to her and widened his eyes. He saw Belch give him a look of uncertainty, shrugging his wide shoulders. The idea sounded legit, but he was no idiot. He knew the red haired teen was trying to keep her friend from being hurt, but he never had someone volunteer to take the punishment for someone else. Henry was tickled by her offer, but he’d rather not give her what she wanted; he was the one in control. Instead, he put pressure on the knife. Julia cried out in pain.

“Stop it,” Evelyn shouted. She struggled against Patrick’s grip. Her dress sleeve tore in the process, revealing her plain colored bra to them. But she didn’t care. “Don’t hurt her, ya pussy. That’s right, I’m calling you out. Fuck you, Bowers.” Tears blurred her vision and her face burned in embarrassment. Listen to me, idiot. She continued to cuss him until the sound of a police siren drowned out her screams.

“The hell are you doing, boy?” The stern voice of Butch Bowers called to them over the noise. Seconds later, he turned off the siren – his cruiser was parked at the mouth of the alley. He walked down the length of it and pulled his glasses off, gaging the scene. “The hell is going on here?” His glare turned to Henry.

The scared teen flinched and pulled his knife from Julia’s mouth, staring down at the dirty asphalt beneath his boots. His fingers grew loose and he dropped the switchblade on the ground. “Nothing. We were just – ”

“What was that?” Butch interrupted his son and moved over to him. He glanced at Julia who was in tears and tilted his head to her; Victor and Belch let her go.

Henry’s hand shook as he raised his head. “Nothing, sir. The guys and I were just hanging out with some girls from our class.” His voice was just as quiet as he spoke.

“Is that so?” Butch motioned for Evelyn to join them, urging her forward with his finger. She stood, knocking Patrick away from her as she covered up her chest. Her unsteady legs brought her over to him. Butch pointed at his son. “You know him?”

Evelyn nodded her head; she thought about ratting him out, but she knew it would lead Henry to hurt both her and Julia. Said girl was too shook up to answer him. “Yes sir. We share a few classes together. Thought we’d hang out with them before headin’ home.” She flinched as Butch turned her head, looking her over.

“You Frank’s daughter? I’ve seen you at the milling company a few times.”

“No sir, but Julia is.” Evelyn opted not to mention that she lived with them; her father was close friends with the Hall family.

Butch laughed and slipped his glasses back over his eyes. “That dumb bastard owes me some material; barns been falling apart. I was headin’ over there, so I’ll give ya both a ride. Go on and get in the car.” His smile faded as he looked at his son. He reached out and grabbed his shoulder, jerking him forward. “I want you home before I get there. You got chores to do.”

“Yes sir,” Henry mumbled. His eyes narrowed as he met gazes with Evelyn. She hugged her friend to her side and lead her to the police cruiser. He was far from done with them. His father released him and followed behind them. The boys stayed silent, even Patrick – he waved at them.

Tomorrow was Saturday, but he’d get them when Monday rolled around. They couldn’t hide from him at school.

AN: I apologize for there not being enough Henry x OC in the first part, but I wanted to set the mood for the piece before jumping in head first. Almost seems a little like Patrick x OC but it's not.

#Henry Bowers #IT 2017 #Bower's Gang #Henry Bowers x OC

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kenzieam · 6 years

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The Return of the Viking Daughter - Chapter 5 (Ivar X OC)

Rating: M - Mature (angst, swearing, violence, eventual domestic violence, eventual attempted assault, eventual smut)

Genre: Drama, angst

@fuckyeahalexhoghandersen @my-emotional-self @bloodyivar @lupy22 @alex-ivar-minx @heathensisterwives @kduran04 @charliexowrite @angryschnauzer @rachiieee @ivarinleatherpants @ivars-heathen-army @neonxwitch @theheathenqueendickubus @dangerousvikings @zpandaqueen @irishhiggins @romanchronicles @didiintheblog @mercy1997 @kawennote09 @iammarylastar @sparklemichele @son-of-anubis @beltzboys2015-blog @paranoia-love @captstefanbrandt @ivars-valkyrie @fullpeanutkoala @ruler-of-hel @poopercoot @magical-mischief-makers

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Holy shit everybody! Thank you so much for the support!!

MY 2OOOth POST!!!!

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I climbed in behind the wheel and looked over at Ivar, relieved to see he seemed to have little trouble getting into the passenger seat. Turning to face me he carefully tucked his crutch into the back seat then faced forwards again, looking a little nervous as he pulled his seat belt on. I started the car, finding myself dazzled again, like a little kid, at all the little lights and doodads that flashed at me. I heard Ivar chuckle quietly beside me and I glanced over to see him smiling at me.

“What?”

Ivar shook his head, still chuckling and turned his gaze forward again.

I’d requested a standard, for reasons I couldn’t remember now, and had been quite capable with it on the way here yesterday, but with Ivar beside me I suddenly couldn’t do anything right and winced as I managed to make the little SUV jump roughly, protesting my shoddy clutch-work. After Ivar’s neck snapped forward another two times he finally burst out laughing and looked over at me.

“Where the hell did you ever learn to drive?”

“If I remember correctly, you, Ubbe and Hvitserk took me out in Ubbe’s old Trans-Am and taught me!”

Ivar laughed harder, obviously remembering that fiasco. I’d spent the next whole weekend helping Ubbe replace his clutch, and Ragnar had finally taken me out in his trusty old Lincoln, a land yacht if there ever was one, and managed to teach me the basics. The brief looks of terror on the old viking’s face had been worth their weight in gold as I’d careened around the empty parking lot, narrowly avoiding lampposts and curbs.

His patience and gentle instruction had paid off, however, and I’d been on my way to becoming a excellent driver when I’d been uprooted and replanted in Switzerland, my only driving opportunities at the full-time boarding school being during the brief summer vacations back in California. Once I hit Oxford however, I’d had no time or opportunity for driving, riding the tube or taking a cab where I needed to go. Shit, I was hella skilled on a Vespa, but my driving practice was weak.

“Go easy on the clutch there Red, okay, shift and let the clutch out slowly, yeah... give it some gas.” Ivar instructed, and I shot him a brief dirty look as I nonetheless followed his directions. He flashed me a smug smile as the vehicle shifted smoothly and began zipping merrily down the road.

“Are you hungry too? Where did you want to eat?”

Ivar looked out the side window a moment before answering. “What about Henry’s?”

I jolted slightly, surprised that Ivar remembered... of course he’d remembered. In the last few years of my life here, we’d always gotten our driver, whoever it might be, to take us to Henry’s Diner before dropping us off at school. We’d been regulars there, stopping many days after school too; Henry’s wife Fanny, an old diner battleaxe if there was one, always doted on us, treating us like her own grand-kids while terrorizing half the other customers. I’d always imagined, if I’d stayed here, that Ivar and I would have most likely nursed our hangovers there, or stopped there after whatever party we’d been to, ordering breakfast because it was the next morning, and we’d not yet sobered up. Henry’s wife was used to that, had served breakfast to every male Lothbrok at 4 or 5 am at one point or another. In truth I hadn’t eaten such good food as Henry’s since I’d left, even the Michelin-starred chef at the boarding school hadn’t compared.

“Sure,” I agreed, turning down a familiar lane.

The look on old Fanny’s face was absolutely priceless when Ivar and I stepped inside and she stumbled back for a moment, clutching her chest. I hoped we hadn’t given her a cardiac and glanced worriedly at Ivar, who looked similarly anxious. She recovered however and enveloped me in a tight hug that smelled of bacon and coffee, cackling delightedly.

“Sera! It’s been years! My dear, it’s good to see you!” She pulled away, only to pull me back for a wet kiss on the cheek that touched me to an almost absurd level. Her voice dropped and she spoke again. “I’m sorry to hear about your father, did you ever get to see him before he passed? I know your mother hauled you out of town like a shot that night, we never heard from you again.”

Fanny’s statement hit me in the guilts and I swallowed hard. “No, I didn’t get to see him-”

“Oh well, don’t listen to an old lady, I just get to babbling.... and you!” She turned suddenly to Ivar, pointing a bony finger at him, brandishing it like a knife. “You didn’t leave town, why did you never darken my door again?”

I looked over at Ivar in shock, he’d never been back, not after I’d left? Why?

Faint circles of red stood out on Ivar’s cheeks and he looked uncomfortable, glancing at me before looking back down at Fanny, who owned every goddamn inch of her 5 feet and had brought down taller men than Ivar before.

“It uh.... just never felt right,” he finally mumbled, looking down at his feet, the counter, anywhere but at the two women staring at him.

Fanny flapped her hands at him, “oh, you Lothbrok’s... go sit down, your old booth is still there.” She bustled away and Ivar turned towards the table. I followed after a pause.

Sitting down was like coming home again, the diner hadn’t changed a bit in eight years, it didn’t even look like the selection of pies under the glass domes on the countertop had been refreshed. Fanny appeared again like magic, clutching two sweaty water glasses and two menus, but we didn’t need them. We’d always ordered the same, Fanny either didn’t remember or hoped our tastes had matured.

“Buttermilk French Toast, please Fanny,” I smiled and Ivar nodded across from me.

“You want them stuffed?” Fanny asked. Although not an official menu item, Fanny had always indulged us and stuffed our toast with homemade cherry pie filling (Ivar) and apple (me).

“Please.” Ivar answered for us this time.

“Hash browns?”

“Yep,” I replied. The hash browns were real potatoes here, cubed (barf) for Ivar and shredded for me.

Fanny bustled away, looking wildly satisfied and I turned to Ivar.

“You never came back. Ivar, why?”

He shrugged, not ready to answer. I waited, one eyebrow raised and he finally relented.

“Why? You were gone, who else was there?”

I faltered, deciding to drop it. It was too damn early, and I was too damn hungry to deal with that now.

We made semi-awkward small talk until Fanny reappeared, and then for a few minutes we were too busy swooning over our old favourites. I hadn’t eaten such wonderful greasy fare in years and my palette shrieked in delight until I shut it up with more French toast.

I was just pushing my plate away, groaning when Fanny arrived at the table, she’d been scolding some regulars at the counter while we’d been eating but had appeared again like magic just as we finished.

She reached out and grabbed my left hand, staring pointedly at it before raising her sharp gaze to Ivar. “Well, where’s the ring?”

Ivar and I impersonated a pair of fish for a few moments, opening and closing our mouths trying to formulate a response before Ivar managed to stammer a ‘what?’

Fanny huffed. “Oh please, you dragged your long face around town for months after Sera’s momma stole her away. You two always looked so good together, you complete each other. You don’t always get a second chance son, don’t waste it now.”

Fanny’s attention was mercifully stolen away right then by the sounds of breaking glass and she whirled and stormed away, ready to raise hell with whichever poor bastard that managed to drop his cup.

Avoiding each other’s eyes Ivar and I both stood and he threw some bills on the table. We managed to exit the diner before Fanny was done laying into the chastised man at the counter, his head lowered in humbled sorrow.

This certainly wasn’t an alley of conversation I was ready for, not now, maybe not ever, and I was willing to never talk about it again, but Ivar seemed to have other ideas. We’d just climbed in the car and shut the doors when Ivar decided to speak.

“Sera, I-”

“Don’t Ivar, not right now.” My hands shook slightly as I gripped the steering wheel.

“No Sera-”

“Ivar!” I slammed my hands on the wheel. My heart was pounding and I had to take a few deep breaths. “I just-” I turned to him then, ready to ask for him to just drop it, to just not say what he was about to say because goddammit I was just barely holding it together right now, but I didn’t get the chance.

Ivar had turned and was leaning towards me. I barely had time to register the tortured look in his eye before he closed the remaining distance and pressed his lips to mine. An almost painful jolt shot through me, Ivar’s lips were unbelievably soft and his hand curled against the back of my head, into my hair, pulling me hard against his mouth. He started out gentle, but deepened it rapidly, pressing his tongue at my lips for entrance, his low groan answering my shuddering moan as I opened my mouth for him and felt him press inside. I’d never felt like this before, never been kissed like this before and my heart raced, my body ignitied with desire.

We just fit together, our lips moving together with delicious tenderness, just the right amount of heated friction. Shit, the man knew how to kiss, and my body responded like it never had before. His skin was soft as I cupped his cheek, and we explored each other’s mouths with an edge of desperation, hunger born of years of want and waiting. I pulled away finally as my head began to spin from oxygen loss and Ivar rested his forehead to mine as we panted together, trying to collect ourselves. His eyes were closed but then he raised them to meet mine and I saw they were black with desire, the pupils blown wide. Still breathing hard he pulled his hand from the back of my head to my chin and brushed his thumb along my bottom lip.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

#ivar #ivar x oc #ivar the boneless smut #ivar fanfiction #ivar x sera #modern ivar #vikings #thereturnofthevikingdaughter

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lunagalemaster · 6 years

Text

Christmas Truce 2017

@we-are-all-of-legend-now Hi! Sorry for being a little late! I’m your Christmas Truce. You asked for a little Danny/Sam for your holiday cheer. I hope this delivers! Happy holidays, my dude!

Title: The Break Before Christmas

Pairing: Danny/Sam

The cold wind brew a gentle sort of familiarity, biting, but cool, comforting Danny like an old friend. No snow drifted down through the sky, making the twinkling lights sparkle oddly against the concrete Amity Park jungle.

When he was younger, even several years after gaining his powers, a scowl would etch across his face at the Christmas Eve sight. Yet, now twenty five and growing older, as the soft melody of carollers rolled through the streets and the sweet smell of pine wafted through the air, Danny looked upon his city with a fond smile.

Christmas still wasn’t his favorite holiday, not by a long shot. Yet, it was hard not to be caught up in the hope and joy in the air.

He let himself bask in his town for several minutes, before sweeping downwards towards the streets.

After all, he had someone to go home to.

A bright smile spread across his face and the air whooshed past him. Despite his exhaustion, something giddy rose up within him. He found himself swirling around each streetlight, wisting the snow into different figures on the sidewalk. The lights flickered as he flew by, whispering of his arrival before forgetting he was even there.

Minutes later, Danny found himself smiling even wider, when he eyed a familiar townhouse near the center of town. Giddy to get home, he didn’t bother unlocking the front door, simply going invisible then intangible, and flying through the window.

Despite the two of them being night owls, their home was quiet as ever. The window led to the darkened living room. The already darker colored furniture bled into the shaded room, with only the soft twinkling lights decorating the front door and the distant light of the bedroom illuminating the room. As Danny landed, he noted the gentle clicking of the air conditioner, and most importantly, the soft taps of Sam typing away at her computer in the other room.

A wide smile grew on his face. He almost switched to his human form when a thought occurred to him. His smile twisted into something mischievous.

Quietly, Danny turned invisi-tangible again and poked his head through the bedroom door. His smile softned at the sight.

Armed with her reading glasses and her laptop, Sam furiously switched between typing on her computer and looking at her notes. Despite, or because of the time of year, Sam did her best to secure the rights and securities for different shelters and unions around the world. Technically, she had off, but Danny knew that despite the fact she was on vacation, she wouldn’t stop until someone practically forced her to.

Or coerce her sweetly with their baby blue puppy dog eyes and soft, fleeting kisses. One of the two.

Danny almost didn’t want to disturb her. After all, she was concentrating so hard and she had that cute little wrinkle in her brow she had whenever she focused on something too hard. However, that little shit side of him noticed the tenseness in her shoulders, the wild fury of her hair, and deep frown etched on her face, and he couldn’t help but smirk again.

Plan falling into place, Danny slowly crept into the room, keeping a careful eye on Sam. He mentally snickered when she didn’t look up from her work. He drifted through the air until he was rather awkwardly floating behind her, his back half intangible through the headboard and the wall, and head right behind Sam’s shoulder.

Careful not to touch her and her frantic movements, he wrapped his arms around her ever so slightly around her eyes…

“Danny, what are you doing?” Sam asked flatly, not even looking up from her work.

He turned visible, laughing awkwardly when she sighed heavily. “...boo?”

“You know, if you wanted to surprise me,” she muttered, though more amused than anything. Sam guided Danny’s hands to rest around her waist, “You should have tried to not be a walking, flying freezer, mister ice core.”

Oh. Danny blushed. “Oh.” He awkwardly adjusted himself, wrapping his tail around the bed, but not really having any room for his legs. Sam’s gaze eyed the wispy tail before leaning back against Danny’s chest. He smiled at the bemused smile on her face, and he couldn’t help but lean down to kiss those perfect lips.

They kissed softly on their bed, warm and soft, the paperwork forgotten for now. By the time they came to, the laptop was closed and the papers had been pushed aside. Danny, human and complete with his legs held Sam close in his arms. Somewhere along the lines his shoes and socks had been thrown off somewhere, leaving him in sweatpants and an odd fitting t-shirt. He snuck his chin into the nook of her neck, smiling into her sweet scent.

Then he heard the typing again.

He glanced around, rolling his eyes at Sam’s determined look. Even as she rested against his chest, she still wouldn’t let herself get distracted.

“You’re on vacation,” Danny teased.

“That I didn’t want.” She reminded him, not even glancing up again.

Danny slowly crept his hands to the underside of her shirt. “You had to use your vacation sometime.”

“And I did…” she batted his hand away. “for Hanukkah. Retail workers and the homeless don’t get even that luxury.”

“And you did all you could. Everyone knows that.” He tucked his head into her neck again, pressing soft kisses against her throat, as he whispered, “Come on, let’s go to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

She paused. “The Truce party?”

“My parents.” He laughed when Sam batted at his chest. “Whaaat? I can deal with the ghosts. But my parents on the holiday?”

“They’re better now,” she tried to argue, but her voice grew softer when Danny slowly pulled the blanket over them. He didn’t miss the dark bag under her eyes either.

“You didn’t think they were that bad to begin with,” he whispered, “But I do think we’re both in need of a little Christmas rest.”

She snorted, but to Danny’s relief, Sam finally gathered up her work stuff. As she shutdown her laptop, Danny gathered all her papers together, handing them to her once she placed the computer on her nightstand, safe for the night.

“Thanks,” she muttered. She flipped through the pages, “And hey, they’re even in the right order. Miracles do happen.”

“I can read page numbers.”

Her smile twisted into a smirk. “Another miracle,” she replied dryly. Ignoring Danny’s pout, she placed the arranged pages on top of her laptop. To his amusement, she flopped ungracefully back on his chest. Her dark hair sprayed everywhere, and her weight was the slightest bit uncomfortable, but he would take that slight discomfort any day to have her in his arms, with those sparkling purple eyes staring at him with that raw affection.

There was a moment of quiet between them. They exchanged soft smiles and little quirks of their lips, having a conversation only the two of them could understand. Danny took Sam’s hand into his own and rubbed her knuckles softly. His gaze zoned in on the familiar ring around her finger, the shining stone glimmering as brightly as ever.

“Hey,” he whispered, smiling down at her.

She arched an eyebrow. “What?”

Keeping his face as sweet as he could, he gathered both of their hands into the other and wrapped their arms into one tight package. Sam obliged, amused, but the pleasant smile on her face made him smile even brighter. Comfortable, he leaned down, whispering into her ear. “Want to know a secret?”

“Danny, I swear if you tell me you’re Phantom-”

“That’s a different secret, Sam,” he admonished, “You weren’t supposed to know that one yet.”

“I will punch you.”

“Want to know a different secret?” He asked again. “It’s not much of one, but I think you should know.”

There was a long moment where he really thought she decided to punch him. But then, she sighed, the good, fond sigh when she was entirely done with him, but adored him anyway. “Tell me,” she said, exasperated.

“The secret and it’s important to know,” he whispered. His smile grew wider and he couldn’t help but press a small kiss on her cheek before finishing softly, “is that I kind of love you and stuff.”

Danny’s smile spread across her face, as Sam chuckled under her breath. But it quickly turned softer, as she twisted around in his hold, kissing him again. This time Sam guided them to lay sideways, somehow managing to pull the covers over the two of them between it all. As they settled down, Sam whispered back, laughter in her voice, “I love you too, you dork.”

And Danny held her close, and Sam held him back, the two protecting each other in their arms through the night. As they do, as they always did, as they always will. Christmas would bring another long day of talking and family, but for now, the two could relax, safe and loved.

“Danny.”

“Yeah?”

“The lights?”

“...can you get them?”

“Danny, which one of us has ghost powers?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You can make a duplicate to turn them off.”

“...riiiggght.”

“Just go turn off the lights.”

#danny phantom #christmas truce #amythest ocean #christmas truce 2017 #mostly fluff #chirstmas #christmas eve #my royal written word #older danny and sam #established relationship #idk if you wanted angst but hopefully fluff will do?

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