#picture me falling off the couch in a fit of hysteria or whatever

[jaxl-road]

Cat Club

Nikki had only planned on yelling at the dude whose cat got his cat pregnant. He wasn’t expecting him to actually stick around.

Pairings: Nikki/Tommy

Warnings: None

~~~~

As the door clicked shut behind him, Nikki sighed heavily, flicking on the lights to illuminate the derelict house he called home. Walking further into the living room, he tossed a handful of papers onto the coffee table before gently placing the cat carrier in his grip on the ground. Releasing the latch on the carrier, Nikki flopped back onto the couch, pressing his fists into his eyes.

It only took a moment for a solid weight to land on his chest. Moving one hand, Nikki eyed the long-haired tabby staring back at him with one bright blue eye. Huffing, he picked the cat up, lifting her above his head so he could stare blankly up at her.

“You whore,” he deadpanned. “You dumb slut. How did this happen? I raised you better than this.”

The cat blinked at him.

Nikki groaned, “Goddammit, Holly, I can’t stay mad at you,” he grumbled, placing the cat back down onto his chest. Once released, she quickly curled up right beneath his chin, Nikki sputtering as long fur got in his mouth, but relaxing as the cat started purring against him. Stroking his pet softly, Nikki stared at the ceiling and contemplated his situation.

Why the fuck hadn’t he gotten her spayed?

Oh, that’s right, he thought as he turned to glance at the bill on the coffee table. It was because he was broke as fuck, and vets were expensive as hell, and even with a payment plan this single morning appointment was going to fuck up his budget for the next month at least. God, he was not equipped for this.

Suddenly, the cat on his chest perked up, sitting up and looking towards the back door. Turning to follow her gaze, Nikki sat up abruptly, sending the cat jumping away.

“YOU!!” He snarled, eyes locking with the sleek black cat pawing at the sliding glass door that led out into the overgrown box of space that had been called a backyard on craigslist. Lurching from his seat, Nikki stormed over to glare down at the animal, “This is your fault, I just know it,” he muttered. He had seen this cat hanging around before, and had seen it wandering in the yard with Holly a few times. Right on cue, the tabby trotted up to the window, meowing to be let outside.

Narrowing his eyes, he shooed her away, “Oh no, I don’t think so. You are grounded, young lady.” He turned back to the black cat still staring after his baby, eyeing the neon green collar around his neck, “Alright, let’s see who I need to fuck up,” he grumbled, unlocking the door and slipping outside. Kneeling down to try to read the cat’s tag, the cat darted out of his reach. Frowning, Nikki took another step forward, only for the cat to jump away again. Groaning, he threw his arms in the air, “Oh come on!”

In the back of his mind, Nikki knew it was ridiculous to go chasing after a cat that may or may not have gotten his own cat knocked up. But hey, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do today, and he really wanted someone to blame for all this, so fuck it. He was chasing this cat.

Of course, the cat had to lead him up the street, climbing the stupid steep ass hill Nikki lived on. Which was bad enough on its own, until the cat led him over the hill. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he looked down the street from the top of the incline. It was almost comical the way the two sides of the hill contrasted each other. On Nikki’s side, the houses were in various levels of disrepair, the street cracked and full of potholes, the occasional drug deal taking place nonchalantly outside of the drugstore on the bottom corner. Meanwhile, on the other side, the lawns were bright and well maintained, houses with fresh coats of paint and a fucking park at the bottom with happy families laughing and playing.

Figures his cat would shack up with an upper class feline. He was going to have words with her when he got home.

The upper class feline in question was sitting a few feet away, looking at Nikki lazily as if he was waiting for him. Nikki hated going into this neighborhood- he felt so out of place, with his shaggy black hair, piercings, tattoos, and tattered clothing that was held together with safety pins and spite. Even his fucking shoes were duck taped together. But he was determined, and so he approached the cat again, unsurprised but still annoyed when it once again kept a few feet in front of him.

However, it didn’t take long for the cat to trot into one of the yards, casting one last look at Nikki before darting in through a cat door installed in the front door. Steeling himself, Nikki stalked up to the door and pounded on it without hesitation. Even if he couldn’t shake the cat’s owner down for money, he at least wanted to vent some of his frustration and goddamn it he was going to let this person have it.

In all honesty, he was expecting some middle aged suburbanite who probably worked in a bank or something. So he was admittedly caught off guard when loud footsteps rushed to the door, throwing it open and revealing a kid who couldn’t be older than Nikki was. He was tall and lanky, long, dark brown hair flying wildly around his head, and a few tattoos dotting his arms. Tight leopard print pants left little to the imagination and it looked like he had probably owned that tank top since middle school.

All in all, not at all what Nikki was expecting.

“Hi!” The stranger looked surprised, but still smiled brightly, “Can I help you?”

For a moment, Nikki couldn’t seem to find his words. Then, his eyes drifted over his shoulder, glancing around the cluttered but spacious living room with pictures and posters on the wall and a tv surrounded by video games in the corner until his eyes landed on the creature that had led him here in the first place.

Fury reignited in him, he pointed accusingly past the stranger, “Is that your fucking cat?” he snapped out.

“Uh,” blinking in confusion, the other boy followed his hand to look at the cat in question, “yeah? Why?”

“Because that fucker got my cat pregnant!” Nikki exclaimed.

“What?! No way!” he looked between him and the cat in disbelief.

Narrowing his eyes, Nikki crossed his arms, “Is your cat a dude?”

“Yeah-”

“Is he fixed?”

“No, but-”

“Then guess what! I’m now dealing with a fucking vet bill and a knocked up cat all because your cat is a fucking tramp!”

The other man gasped, looking offended and appalled, “Excuse me?? Catrick Stewart has never done anything wrong in his life!”

Whatever comeback Nikki had planned was lost as he felt a record scratch in his brain. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath through his nose, “I’m sorry,” he spoke slowly, “what did you just say his name is?”

When he opened his eyes, the stranger had a bright blush on his face, but he still crossed his arms and huffed, “It is a strong name fitting for a cat of his level of refinement,” he insisted.

Nikki knew he was gaping, but he didn’t care. This day sucked and this confrontation wasn’t making him feel better like he hoped it would. He felt like the universe was laughing at him.

But then again, he thought to himself, what wasn’t the universe laughing at him?

“Oh my God,” he ran his hands through his hair, laughing with a tinge of hysteria, “I can’t believe I’m going to starve because my cat got knocked up by a fucking pun.”

The stranger frowned, face turning serious, “Wait, what?”

But Nikki ignored him, glaring as he pushed at his chest weakly, “Get your fucking cat fixed, you can obviously afford it,” he spat out. Turning on his heels, he stormed away, ignoring the voice calling after him. He practically ran home.

He didn’t understand it, but it felt like something fragile was cracking in his chest- a helplessness he hadn’t felt in a while. Or maybe, it occurred to him as he shut the door behind him, he had just been ignoring it. Leaning against the door, he slid down until he was sitting on the stained carpet, looking around him at the blank, cracked walls and water-damaged ceilings, the furniture he’d dragged out of alleyways before they could be hauled to a landfill, the crooked cabinet doors in the kitchen that hid a painful emptiness.

It’d been a long time since he felt this alone.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until a taste of salt hit his lips, and by then it was too late to hold it back. He just let the tears fall, because even though he was used to struggling by himself, it never got any easier.

Something soft and warm brushed against his side. Looking down, he saw Holly looking up at him, her one blue eye bright and warm. She crawled up onto his lap, and Nikki couldn't help but wrap his arms around her gently, burying his face in her back and letting his tears soak into the long, soft fur. He held her close, and she stayed with him, purring loudly against him until he felt ready to face the world again.

Sniffling, Nikki lifted his head, smiling shakily as he looked down at his companion.

“We’re gonna be okay, aren’t we, girl?” He whispered. She blinked up at him slowly, and he nodded, hugging her a little closer.

“Yeah. We’re gonna be just fine.

~~~~~~~~

“Mick, you’re a sketchy guy- do you know where I can sell a kidney?”

The smaller man paused, frozen mid-motion in cleaning the bartop, before slowly turning to narrow his eyes at Nikki.

“What are you, a cop? Fuck off.”

Nikki groaned, leaning heavily against the bar, “Mick, I’m serious. I’ve got a fucking vet bill to deal with and I’m still rationing food from when I needed to get my brakes fixed last month.”

Humming nonchalantly as he returned to his task, Mick glanced at Nikki out of the corner of his eye, wearing that expression he got when he wanted to convince you he didn’t care but he actually cared very much, “What happened? Holly get into a street fight or something?”

“Worse,” Nikki huffed, putting his chin in his hand, “she’s pregnant.”

Mick’s eyebrows flew up, “You didn’t get her spayed?”

“Don’t even start, I’m already kicking myself,” The conversation was cut short as a large group entered the bar, Mick and Nikki busying themselves serving drinks and already internally groaning at the rowdy kids that would surely only get more annoying the more they drank. Still, Nikki was on his best behavior- good tips were more important than ever.

By the end of the night, as the two bartenders finished cleaning up and breaking down the bar, Nikki was twelve kinds of tired.

Mick looked at him with sympathy. As much as he tried to be a hardass, he had always had a soft spot for the kid ever since he'd used a blatantly fake id to get a job at the bar nearly two years ago as a 20-year-old, “Hey, why don’t you take the next few Saturday shifts.”

Nikki looked up in surprise, “Really? Are you sure?” Saturdays were one of the busiest nights, and thus one of the heavier tip days.

“Yeah, why not,” Mick nodded, “You need ‘em more than me, and honestly I could use a few quieter weeks. My back has been killing me,” he grumbled.

Smiling sincerely, Nikki gave him a soft punch on the shoulder, “Thanks man, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, now go take the fucking garbage out.”

~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Nikki was awoken by a familiar yowling next to his ear. Groaning, he pulled his pillow over his head, “Shut up, Holly, I’m not letting you out.” A weight settled on his back and the yowling got louder. Huffing, he sat up, Holly jumping off him and staring at him judgmentally.

He glared right back, “Hey, you’re the one who got knocked up. This isn’t even a punishment, I just can’t have you out there eating garbage when you’re eating for who-knows-how-many?”

Nikki hated the situation, and the next two months were going to involve a lot of financial gymnastics, and he was already frustrated beyond belief, but none of that changed the fact that he was going to do everything in his power to make sure his cat and her kittens were taken care of. Fuck feeding himself, he was switching her to namebrand cat food as soon as he went to the store.

Maybe she understood, because the yowling stopped, the tabby moving to curl up on Nikki’s lap. As he scratched her ears, she started purring contently. Nikki smirked, “Yeah, I love you too, bitch.”

Finally forcing himself to get up, he stretched his arms over his head as he made his way to the kitchen to get some coffee started and fill Holly’s food dish with fresh wet food. Once they both had their morning fix, Nikki wandered into the living room, dropping down onto the couch, stretching his legs in front of him and sipping his coffee slowly as he thought about his day.

His shift wasn’t until that night, and he really should go grocery shopping. But first he should actually look over that payment plan he’d signed up for at the vet’s office and recalculate his budget. He had a credit card payment coming up too, fuck. Finishing his coffee, he decided he could allow himself one more mug before cranking some tunes and tackling a plan for the next few weeks.

Suddenly, a loud banging noise had Nikki nearly jumping out of his skin. Shooting up, a voice called out.

“Hey! Dude!”

Turning towards the sliding glass door Nikki thought for sure he must be hallucinating. Because there was no other explanation for why he was seeing the lanky stranger he had harassed yesterday grinning and waving enthusiastically at him from outside the door, a familiar black cat pacing around his legs.

“Dude!” He gestured at two heavy looking paper bags he held in his arms, “Hey, let me in! I got something for you!”

Blinking slowly, Nikki waited for the hallucination to end. But when the other man didn’t disappear in dust and smoke, he stood slowly, creeping through the dim room towards the door, his eyes narrowed in suspicion at the sunlit stranger.

“How the fuck did you find out where I live?” He asked through the glass. He wasn’t just going to let this weirdo into his house without figuring out what the hell was going on.

“Oh, Catrick showed me,” he said casually, pointing at the black cat beside him. Grinning, he raised an eyebrow at Nikki, “That’s how you found out where I live, right?”

Nikki flushed. In his surprise and suspicion he had nearly forgotten that he had been the first one to show up unannounced on a stranger’s doorstep. He shook his head, crossing his arms with a huff, “Your fucking cat needs to learn not to give out personal information so easily.”

To his surprise, the man laughed, a bright and sunny sound that made something tighten in Nikki’s chest, but not necessarily in a bad way. “Yeah, he really does, the little shit,” he smiled down at the cat fondly. Turning back to Nikki, he was still smiling, but his voice was gentler, “But seriously, I have some stuff for you,” he nodded towards the bags in his arms, “Think of it as, like, child support!”

Barking out a surprised laugh, Nikki hesitated for one more moment before finally giving in. Shaking his head, he lifted the security bar from behind the door before flipping the latch, sliding the door open and standing back as the black cat darted inside followed by his owner.

Nikki couldn’t help but be a little self-conscious of his living situation, but he shoving the feeling back as the other man set the bags down on the kitchen counter before turning and holding his hand out with a wide smile.

“I’m Tommy by the way! We didn’t exactly exchange pleasantries yesterday,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, taking the offered hand and shaking it firmly, “I’m Nikki.”

“Nice to meet you!” Tommy’s smile was practically blinding. Nikki’s kitchen had never been this bright, even when all the lightbulbs were working. “Anyway,” he continued, “I got you some groceries and stuff. I wasn’t sure if you had any food allergies or anything, so I got a bunch of different stuff, and anything you don’t want I’ll take. Same with cat food, if there’s like, a flavor or something you know she doesn’t like, Catrick eats pretty much anything.”

Nikki’s eyes widened as he looked through the bags. Bread, peanut butter, eggs, milk, apples, frozen vegetables, two bags of dry cat food and probably a dozen cans of wet food. There was more, but Nikki took a step back, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. It was one thing when he had to fight tooth and nail to get something from someone. Being just… given it? Filled him with guilt.

“Dude, you…” he cleared his throat, trying to keep his cool, “This is awesome, but you really don’t have to do this. I know I’m the one who showed up and yelled at you, but I was just blowing off steam, honest. You don’t have to do all this.”

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but it’s not for Tommy to shrug nonchalantly, “I know, but I want to. It’s not fair for you to have to deal with a pregnant cat on your own when my cat is half responsible. So seriously, don’t worry about it.”

Normally, Nikki’s pride might prevent him from accepting something like this. But something about Tommy just felt so… sincere. It didn’t feel like charity or pity. Just some weird guy taking responsibility for his wayward cat. Nikki could respect that.

“Well… thanks,” he said, smiling as he gave Tommy a grateful pat on the shoulder.

“No problem,” he beamed. At that moment, Holly wandered into the kitchen, hopping up onto the counter to inspect the bags of food.

“Holly, no!” Nikki slid the bags away from her. The last thing he needed was his cat chewing up the first decent food he’d had in ages.

Tommy gasped excitedly, “Oh, is this the mama-to-be?” he reached out eagerly, but pulled his hand back just as fast when the tabby flattened her ears and hissed at him.

“Hollywood Riot Sixx!” Nikki scolded, putting his hands on his hips, “We do not hiss at the dude giving us bags of free food!”

Watching as the tabby jumped down to run back into the living room, Nikki shook his head with a huff. Turning back to Tommy, he found the other man with a hand over his mouth, clearly muffling laughter.

Nikki immediately narrowed his eyes, “What?”

Unable to hold it back anymore, Tommy burst into giggles, speaking as best he could between his laughter, “You-... her name is ‘Hollywood’? And her middle name is Riot??”

“Excuse me, your cat’s name is ‘Catrick Stewart’!” Nikki exclaimed, “At least her name is actually cool.”

“Catrick Stewart is very cool!” Tommy argued, trying to look serious, but still grinning.

Something about the easy way Tommy joked and laughed was infectious, and Nikki couldn’t help but smile too, “You fucking nerd,” he shook his head, something like fondness coloring his voice.

Perhaps having heard his name, Catrick trotted over and, to Nikki’s surprise, rubbed against his legs happily.

“Aw, he likes you!” Tommy grinned.

“He’s just trying to butter me up after he hooked up with my baby,” but even as he pretended to scowl, Nikki knelt down to scratch the cat under his chin. Glancing back up at Tommy, he impulsively offered, “Hey, do you want a beer or something? It’s the least I can do since you’re helping me out.”

“Uh, it’s like 11am?”

Nikki raised an eyebrow, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Laughing, Tommy nodded, “Fair point. You know what? Sure. Honestly I could always use a drink.”

“Excellent,” Nikki went to the fridge to pull out two bottles, “I’m a bartender so alcohol is like, the one thing I can offer you.” Passing him his drink, they both moved into the living room where Nikki moved to sit on the couch. Almost immediately, Catrick hopped up onto his lap, rubbing his face against Nikki’s chin, drawing a startled laugh from him as he stroked the cat’s back.

Meanwhile, Tommy was kneeling in the center of the room, hand held out in careful determination towards Holly, who watched him suspiciously. Tilting his head as the tabby finally stepped forward to sniff his hand, he spoke up questioningly, “How’d she lose her eye?”

Shrugging, Nikki scratched the black cat on his lap under his chin, feeling a gentle purr against his legs, “I dunno. It was like that when I found her.”

“Oh, she was a stray?” Nikki nodded, and Tommy asked, “How’d you find her?”

“Um…” Nikki flushed with embarrassment, “Y’know, I just… found her wandering around,” he explained weakly. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that in truth, she had found him; that he had been a homeless teen sleeping in an alleyway and had woken up to a cat licking his hair and then she simply never left.

But Tommy accepted his halfhearted answer, grinning widely when Holly finally allowed him to scratch her ears, “There, see! I’m not so bad,” he cooed at her, “You gotta get used to me, I’m gonna be around for a while.”

Nikki nearly choked on his drink, “Come again?”

Turning to face him, the younger man pulled out the biggest puppy eyes Nikki had ever seen, “You’re going to let me help with her, right? Please let me help- She’s going to have kittens, Nikki! Kittens! Little baby furballs! I can’t miss that! Plus, Catrick deserves a chance to know his children!” He clasped his hands together, literally begging.

Which was hilarious to Nikki, because he had assumed that once the kid got his sense of responsibility and obligation taken care of, he’d be done and gone. But here he was, asking to be allowed to help.

What a weird dude.

Huffing out a laugh of disbelief, Nikki shrugged, “Hey, if it means that much to you, I’m not gonna stop you.”

Tommy cheered, which of course sent Holly jumping away. His disappointment quickly turned to exaggerated offense when she hopped onto the couch, curling next to Nikki and allowing him to pet both cats at once.

“No fair!” Tommy whined.

Nikki only smirked, “Suck it.”

~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Tommy continued to stop by whenever he could, usually bringing little treats or toys for Holly, whose belly was slowly filling out, and restocking Nikki’s groceries every few days. With food taken care of, and working Fridays and Saturdays at the bar, Nikki actually managed to get all his bills paid on time, heaving a sigh or relief when the payments all cleared and his account wasn’t overdrawn.

He felt a little bad that there wasn’t more he could give in return, but Tommy seemed thrilled enough at getting free drinks, plus just being allowed to hang around, so he tried not to worry about it too much.

Weirdly enough, Nikki realized that he and Tommy were actually becoming friends. It didn’t fully hit him until he showed up at the bar during Nikki’s shift. At first he had assumed he was just cashing in on the free drinks he offered, but he insisted on paying, tipping him and Mick generously and hanging around for almost two hours just chatting and joking around. When he finally took off, waving enthusiastically as he did, Mick raised an eyebrow at Nikki.

“Well, you two are certainly getting… friendly.”

“Um, yeah, I guess,” Nikki replied in consideration, “Holly’s warmed up to him, so he can’t be that bad, y’know?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

Mick smirked, walking away to refill a guest’s drink, “Nothing at all.”

Nikki huffed, but Mick was always being weird, so he let it slide.

Things got a little more interesting a few days later. Despite Nikki’s house being a complete shithole, that was where he and Tommy mostly hung out, Catrick following him over to curl up with Holly who was still on house arrest. But on this evening, about an hour after Tommy had left, Nikki was listening to music and messing on his phone when he noticed something laying on the floor by the front door. Closer inspection revealed it to be a wallet with a driver’s license in it for one Tommy Lee.

Rolling his eyes at the absent minded boy, Nikki headed out to return the item. Walking to the other side of the hill and knocking on Tommy’s door, he figured it would only take a minute- just return the wallet and then head back home. No big deal.

That plan was thrown off the minute the door was opened by a short young man with blonde hair and bright white pants. For a horrifying moment Nikki was afraid he had knocked on the wrong door.

But before he could backtrack, the other man’s eyes brightened mischievously, “No way,” he drawled with a slow smirk, “You must be Nikki.”

Nikki crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes, “And who the hell are you?”

“Tommy never mentioned me? I’m hurt,” he put a hand over his heart dramatically, but he was still smiling, “I’m Vince, Tommy’s roommate, and the guy who’s been hearing all about you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nikki’s voice was heavy with suspicion, “Excuse me?”

“Oh yeah,” Vince laughed, leaning against the doorframe, eyes glinting as he spoke, “he hasn’t shut up about you. Nikki this, and Nikki that. Fuck dude, I recognized you immediately just from how often he talks about all the things about you that make him h-”

As he spoke, Tommy suddenly rushed up behind him, frantically slapping one hand over Vince’s mouth while the other wrapped around his waist. Vince made a muffled noise of indignity as Tommy lifted him completely off the ground, the blonde flailing and struggling as Tommy laughed nervously, his face bright red.

“Nikki! Hi! What are you doing here? I hope Vince wasn’t bothering you too much hahaha.”

“Um…” Nikki looked between the two of them, “You left this at my place,” he held out the wallet.

“Oh! Thanks!” Tommy reluctantly set Vince back on the ground so he could take the item back.

“Right. Uh, I’ll see you then-” Nikki took a few steps back, still reeling from the whole situation.

Before he could get far though, Vince finally escaped, freeing himself to call out, “Hey dude! You should stick around a hang out! We were just gonna play some Mario Kart and it gets boring kicking Tommy’s ass all the time.”

Without even thinking, Nikki snorted, “Oh, so you wanted to get your ass kicked instead?”

“Oh, Tommy, I like this guy,” Vince grinned, elbowing the still flushed Tommy in the side. With that, the two roommates ushered Nikki inside.

“I would have invited you over sooner,” Tommy shrugged, “But someone can be a little bitch sometimes, so-” he glared petulantly at the blonde, who merely laughed and flipped him off.

Keeping his word, Nikki did indeed kick Vince’s ass at Mario Kart. The demand for a rematch turned into the three boys breaking out some beers and rifling through their collection for more games that Vince could challenge him to. Tommy was careful to always sit between Nikki and Vince, always ready to smother the smaller boy mid sentence every now and then. Nikki didn’t get it, but apparently the two of them were high school buddies, so maybe it was just some weird inside joke.

“You know, it’s Vince’s fault I never got Catrick fixed,” Tommy complained at one point.

“Oh please, you can’t keep blaming me for that!” Vince shoved his shoulder.

But Tommy continued, “I was going to, honest! But then this fucker started going on about ‘how would you feel if someone chopped your nuts off in your sleep?’ and I just couldn’t do it!”

“Oh my God,” Nikki pinched the bridge of his nose, “Just for that, I’m going to chop your nuts off in your sleep.”

“No!!”

Vince howled with laughter.

When Nikki finally left, pleasantly buzzed and having played video games he didn’t even know existed, Vince waved his fingers at him, “Don’t be a stranger now~.” Tommy blushed next to him and quickly shoved him back into the house. Nikki just shook his head and hiked back to his side of the hill.

Weird dudes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Before either of them knew it, six weeks passed, until one morning Nikki was frantically calling Tommy.

“Dude, I think it’s happening!”

Tommy ran to his house in record time.

One of the gifts Tommy had brought along earlier in the month had been a plush cat bed, which Holly had immediately dragged into one of the empty cupboards under the sink in the kitchen. That was where she was now.

“She was pacing around and meowing like crazy earlier,” Nikki explained, crouching in the corner of the kitchen and looking into the open cupboard anxiously.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it!” Tommy knelt down beside him. On the counter above them was a bowl of warm water, a towel, and a few old t-shirts. Both of them had looked up everything they could to try to be ready for this day. Now all they had to do was wait.

So they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Holly shifted around on her bed, and they could see her stomach clenching, but nothing was happening.

Biting his lip, Tommy turned towards Nikki, “Dude…”

Nikki was chewing on his nails as he shook his head, “It’s not supposed to take this long.”

“Maybe it was a false alarm? Maybe she’s not actually in labor yet?” Tommy’s voice was unconvincing even to his own ears.

Standing abruptly, Nikki practically ran to grab his phone, “I’m calling the vet.”

Half an hour later, he was gently loading Holly into her cat carrier and Tommy was volunteering to drive. Nikki gave him directions absently, staring down at the carrier in his lap and whispering soothing words to the cat within it. When they arrived, luckily the office wasn’t particularly busy, so Nikki was able to go in right away, leaving Tommy waiting anxiously in the waiting room. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes when the other man returned, but to Tommy it felt like ages.

“Hey, is she alright?” He asked as he jumped to his feet.

Nikki was tapping his fingers against his legs rapidly as he answered, “They’re going to try to assist her, and hopefully she won't need surgery or anything, but…” he trailed off with a shrug.

Tommy nodded and tried to smile encouragingly, “Hey, I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s in good hands now, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Nikki replied softly. Then he turned and walked towards the door, “I need a smoke.”

As he left, Tommy followed after him, figuring he definitely wouldn’t mind a smoke right now either. Standing a few feet away from the building, they both lit up their cigarettes, smoking in silence for a few minutes. Tommy was about halfway through his first cigarette when Nikki was moving on to his second.

Looking at the other man in concern, Tommy spoke softly, “Hey. Are you alright?”

Exhaling shakily, Nikki clenched his eyes shut as he ground out, “No.”

He shoved his cigarettes back into his pocket as he turned to face Tommy, face caught somewhere between frustration and sorrow, “No, I’m not fucking alright, Tommy! That’s-” his voice cracked, and he scrubbed his hands over his face roughly, “That’s my cat. And... and she’s all I’ve got,” he admitted softly, “It’s been just the two of us for so long. She's the only thing that’s kept me from losing my fucking mind through all the endless bullshit! Because even when I had fucking nothing at least I had Holly, y’know? And now…” he dropped his head, hands shaking at his side as he whispered, “I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to her.”

Part of him was ashamed when he felt tears start dripping down his face, and he half expected Tommy to start laughing at him. But instead, he felt long, lean arms wrap around him, pulling him into a warm, firm chest.

“She’s gonna be fine, dude,” Tommy whispered into his hair, rubbing his back softly even as he tightened his grip on the other man, “And even if something happened… you’re not alone, man. You’re not dealing with this on your own anymore.”

Nikki choked out a sob and then he couldn’t hold back anymore, reaching out to cling desperately to Tommy’s back, allowing himself to be held together by someone else for the first time in a very, very long time.

And Tommy let him, only hesitating for the briefest moment before placing a soft kiss on his wild black hair.

“We’re in this together now, dude. I’m right here with you, no matter what.”

~~~~~~~~~

Forty-five minutes later, when Nikki was called back into the office, he laced his fingers with Tommy’s and tugged him along with him.

~~~~~~~~~

“Vince, help me out here! Nikki keeps shooting down all my name ideas!”

“He wanted to name one of the girls ‘Catricia’!”

“We agreed that you would name the boys and I would name the girls!”

“I have to step in! Think of the children, T-Bone! They’re going to get bullied by all the other cats!”

“Oh my God, you two are worse than middle aged married couples,” Vince laughed, dangling a string with a feather on the end in front of one of the more adventurous kittens, luring it towards him with a wide grin.

Tommy had spent every possible moment of the last two weeks at Nikki’s house with the kittens. The previously empty home now felt full, with Catrick and Hollywood curled up together on a large cat bed with their kittens around them. Holly had given birth to four pitch black kittens, two boys and two girls. It was hard to tell so early, but it looked like three of them would be long hair, with one of the girls being short hair. One of the boys was crawling around Vince to bat clumsily at the colorful toy.

As for the other three…

“Mick, this is ridiculous, it’s like they’re perfectly camouflaged on you!”

The older man barely suppressed a grin. He was wearing all black, as he usually did, and the result was that at certain angles it was difficult to see the three kittens crawling around in his lap, “At least I won't have to worry about using a lint roller or some shit,” he grumbled.

“That’s actually not a bad strategy. I still can’t believe Vince still wears white after living with Catrick for so long.”

“Some of us are dedicated to our style!”

Laughing, the four men hung out for a few more hours, eventually leaving the cats alone to curl up together and rest while they drank and argued about everything from music to cat names. Eventually, Vince had to leave for work, giving Tommy a pat on the back and a wink on his way out, but Nikki was used to his weird shit by now. Mick decided to head out soon after, but before he did, he pulled Nikki aside.

“What are you guys planning on doing with the kittens, anyway?”

Nikki shrugged, “Well, they have to stay with Holly until they’re like, ten weeks old or some shit. After that, I dunno, probably post fliers and try to find some good homes for them.”

Mick nodded quietly. Then, after a long moment of silence, he looked up, “Can I have them?”

Nikki felt his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, “You want them?”

“Yeah.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah.”

“...Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“...You’re not going to like, use them for a ritual or something are you?”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Mick rolled his eyes.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Nikki laughed, holding his hands up in surrender, “It’s just surprising is all. But sure, man. Once they’re old enough they’re all yours. It’s perfect cause then I get to come over and bug you all the time to visit them,” he smirked.

“I knew telling you where I lived was a bad idea,” Mick grumbled, but he still looked pleased.

After he left, Nikki told Tommy about the new development, and the lanky boy threw his arms up in excitement, “Fuck yes! Now we don’t have to give them to strangers! And we can visit them all the time!”

“That’s what I said!” Nikki laughed as Tommy crashed into him in an enthusiastic hug. Ever since the day at the vet, they’d been closer than ever, hugging and goofing off and spending most of their free time together. Nikki didn’t even stress when he got the second vet bill- he knew he wasn’t dealing with it alone.

So maybe he should have been less surprised when Tommy pulled back just enough to kiss him firmly on the lips.

Still, he certainly wasn’t surprised when he found himself kissing back.

When they finally broke to breathe, they both couldn’t help but laugh giddily. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day we met,” Tommy admitted.

“The day I followed your cat to your house and yelled at you?” Nikki raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re hot when you’re angry.”

“Oh shut up!”

“Make me.”

Nikki kissed him again. And again, and again, and ran his fingers through his hair, and convinced him to spend the night. They laid on the couch tangled in each other's arms, and Nikki didn’t think he’d ever felt less alone then he did in that moment, with the sound of Tommy’s heartbeat under his ear and the occasional patter of little paws in the dark.

#Poor terrorcest has been so neglected by me lately lol #I'm not actually particularly happy with this but sometimes you just got to let it go #Motley Crue #terror twins #terrorcest #nikki/tommy #Nikki Sixx #tommy lee #my writing

[elisaphoenix13]

(AT) Remembering The Departed

Tony absent-mindedly fiddles with the wires in the tv remote he had torn apart in boredom. No matter how much he needed to tinker to keep his mind from spiralling, he refused to touch his Iron Man suit. He barely stepped into the lab he built with the lake house. A home away from home. As soon as he could leave the tower behind, he did. It held too many memories of the ones he lost and working on his suit was just a reminder of that. How he failed to protect two of the few things that made up his own personal world. How their suits, the suits he made for them to protect them, crumbled into dust.

He went to the tower once since Carol saved him from space, and that was to retrieve his  infant daughter who had miraculously survived the snap. If she had been taken too, Tony was sure that he would have surrendered to alcohol. She was what kept him here, in the now, even though every time he looked at her, his heart wrenched.

Diana had Stephen's eyes.

He never let that hurt show and never looked away from her though. That wouldn't be fair to her. It was already bad enough that Tony rarely talked about her mother and brother. It wasn't that he didn't want to, it just still hurt so much even after five years had passed. Anything Diana heard about her dead family was heard from the remaining Avengers and she always looked a little sad afterwards.

It didn't take Tony long to realize that she was sad for him. A five-year-old child that deserved to know everything about Stephen and Peter, would never ask her father about them because she knew their memory hurt him.

Tony knew it was incredibly messed up but he couldn't shake it off. The very few times Dia did ask, Tony always choked on his words. It wasn't until Scott stepped in one day that he finally worked through his anguish to give his little girl the stories she deserved. The ex-con had broken into the family floor (Tony had let the Avengers continue to live in it) and found Peter's photo album, and drove all the way out to the lake house to give to Diana.

"Daddy!"

Tony looks up from his small tinkering project sitting on the coffee table in front of him, and smiles when Diana runs over to him with said photo album. He felt his heart clench for an entirely different reason. He would recognize that leather binding anywhere.

"Wh...What have you got there Princess?"

"Uncle Scott is here! He gave it to me and told me to ask you!"

His daughter sets the album on the couch and then climbs up onto it before settling on Tony's lap. With his heart in his throat, the engineer pulls the album closer before handing it to her and watching in trepidation as Diana opens it. The first picture, Peter as a baby, nearly sent him into a sobbing mess but he held back the tears as he let his daughter flip through the pages. Curiosity graces Diana's face as she looks through pictures of Peter's life from a baby to his teenage years, understanding flickering through blue eyes when Peter's parents slowly disappeared from the pictures as well as his aunt and uncle, until she finally reaches where Tony and Stephen had started to fill the pages. It was when she stopped and eventually looked up at him.

"Is that Mommy and Peter?" Diana asks as she points to the picture of the trio sprawled out and napping on the couch.

"Yes."

Because of stories from the other Avengers, Diana had taken to calling Stephen her 'Mommy' because the team always referred to him as Mama Bear and they told the little girl that Peter called him 'Mom'. She never questioned it. Diana had simply accepted it as normal and referred to him in the same way.

"What happened to Peter's real mommy and daddy?" This girl was far too observant. Something she definitely got from Stephen.

"They died in a plane crash. He had to go live with aunt and uncle after that. Then his uncle died...and then his aunt a couple of years later. That's when me and Mommy adopted him."

Remembering hurt...but at the same time it was a huge relief. He completely underestimated how nice it would be to tell Diana stories of her missing family members so he did. He still had to fight back the tears, but he told her the story behind each and every picture in the album. It was when they came across the first picture of Peter in his Spiderman suit, that Diana stopped and a huge smile spread across her face.

"Peter is Spiderman?!" She asks excitedly.

Tony tilts his head to look down at her in wonderment. "I never told you that?" When Diana shakes her head Tony smiles. His first genuine one in years. "Yep...Pete is Spiderman. He was always scaring me and Mommy whenever he used his webs to make a swing for you or a hammock to cuddle with you. It scared us, but we didn't stop him because we trusted him and you loved it. He loved you too much to let anything happen to you."

"So he was the one always getting into trouble?" She asks.

Tony chuckles. "Who said that?"

"Everyone. Spiderman was a troublemaker but got away with a lot because Mama Bear was scary." Diana likely recounts from the stories she heard from the others growing up.

At first, Tony snorted in amusement, but then it evolved into laughter, which turned into hysteria. Of course the others would still complain about having to clean up after the Starks. Peter was responsible for at least fifty percent of those messes, but no one got very far with their complaints when Stephen leveled them with his Mama Bear glare. They found out very early on that if they ignored the glares, they were sent free-falling for a couple of hours and still had to clean up whatever the mess was afterwards. That was all just home messes though. If a bad guy was giving Peter a rough time, the Avengers stepped in without being asked to.

"Uncle Scott! I think Daddy is broken!" Diana calls out toward the front door.

It only made Tony laugh harder, and he didn't know that was even possible. He was already in hysterics.

When he did finally calm down, his daughter was looking up at him with a little bit of worry, and he found that Scott had joined them on the couch. Amusement flooded his eyes but relief was the stronger emotion. Relief that Diana was able to help her father out of his slump with something as simple as a photo album, even if it didn't last very long.

"I was hoping the album would help. It was my last idea." Scott admits softly.

"I should punch you for breaking into that floor..." The ex-con frowns. "You were right though. It was what I needed." Tony sighs and rubs away the evidence of happy tears before continuing. "They're not coming back, but it's not fair to Dia to keep those memories locked away. It's not fair to them either."

"About that..." Scott starts nervously and Tony eyes him warily. "We...we think the decimation can be reversed."

"Lang--" The engineer threatens with a growl.

"I wouldn't have done this if we weren't sure. We need your help though." Scott looks at him intently. "There's a chance to bring your family back. A chance for Diana to grow up with them in her life. Don't you want that for her?"

"Low blow Scott."

Scott was right though. Tony would take any chance, no matter how small, to bring Stephen and Peter back. It was what Diana deserved and the only reason Tony was even considering helping was because Scott meant well. He was a dad too and the ex-con would do anything for her so she would be happy.

So with Diana's help (she was a very smart girl and would fit into their family of geniuses no problem), he stepped up, and they were able to bring everyone back.

Seeing Diana leap into Stephen's arms, (effectively startling him because he didn't recognize her for a split second) and the sorcerer holding her and Peter tightly with pure joy and relief made it all worth it to Tony. Even if Peter thanked her by swinging her around and giving their parents faux heart attacks.

#tony stark #ironstrange #peter parker #mama bear stephen strange #supremefamily #diana stark strange (oc) #scott lang

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

hunger - chapter 11

Hunger master post. 

 Stiles is surprised at how easily he fits in with Scott and Melissa. He doesn’t have that same feeling he did at the foster homes they put him in. Like he had to ask to use the bathroom, and was afraid to help himself to food out of the refrigerator, and he always felt like he was a guest in someone else’s house, always careful of what he said and did, and itching under his skin because he couldn’t just be him. He doesn’t get any of that here. The McCalls’ house is comfortable. It feels like it could be a home. He’s not treated like a guest here. He’s treated like he fits.

He misses his dad.

He misses the dog.

He cries himself to sleep more than once, but it’s okay. It’s grief. It’s not helplessness. His tears are cathartic, not desperate.

He has a pile of clothes that Scott has given him. It’s mostly stuff that Scott is growing out of. Stiles is skinny enough thanks to living on the streets that he fits them. He’s a little taller than Scott so the jeans aren’t quite the right length, but Stiles doesn’t care. Who’s he got to impress anyway?

He does a few chores around the house while Melissa is working and Scott is at school. He wonders how long it will be until it feels like the walls are closing in on him. A while yet, probably. The house is warm and safe. During the day he researches his dad’s case, and wonders if it will raise any red flags anywhere if he tries to order a copy of the transcripts online. Then he figures they’re not really what he needs anyway. He needs the notes from the initial investigation, not the prosecutor’s polished presentation. For that, he needs Rafa McCall. And for Rafa McCall to even think of giving them to him, he needs evidence.

He takes one of Scott’s unused school notebooks and makes a list of what he already knows. Which isn’t much apart from Kate Argent’s name, her brother’s address, G. Argent’s address—are they even related?—and how she shot his dog.

He thinks back to that, trying to divorce himself from the impending panic.

“Hello again, Derek. You don’t look so good.”

Except Stiles’s name isn’t Derek, and as far as he remembers he’s never met Kate Argent before in his life.

Derek.

The name snags in the threads of his memory like a hook, but Stiles can’t quite tug the memory free. He pushes it aside for now.

Stiles makes himself a cup of coffee—the caffeine helps settle the more annoying symptoms of his ADD—and takes it into the living room. He sits down on the couch and reaches for his notebook.

Scott’s laptop is open. Stiles was searching the Herald earlier. The elusive mountain lion still hasn’t been caught.

Stiles taps his pen against his chin, and thinks of Kate Argent again, and the exchange she had with Allison’s dad outside his house a few nights ago.

“I told Dad I’d check and see if you’d had any luck bringing down the alpha. Clearly you haven’t.”

Alpha. What is the alpha? First letter of the Greek alphabet. Term co-opted by asshole meninist PUAs. An episode from season six of The X-Files. And, in hunting terms, the foremost animal in a pack, right? Except that mountain lions aren’t pack animals. So what exactly is Chris Argent hunting?

Stiles sips his coffee.

What the hell is going on out there in the Preserve? Chris Argent is hunting something, and Scott got bitten by something, and all of it, every fucking thing, comes right back to those blackened ruins in the clearing, doesn’t it? Everything comes back to the Hale fire.

Maybe Stiles has been coming at this the wrong way.

Maybe he doesn’t need to prove Kate Argent framed his dad.

Maybe he needs to prove she had something to do with the Hale fire.

***

  Stiles likes helping Scott with his homework. He’s missed school. Not the other students or the teachers or whatever, but he’s missing learning. Stiles has always been wired a little differently than a lot of kids. Scott is basically failing Biology, and even though it’s been months since Stiles cracked open a textbook he falls easily back into the rhythm of studying.

“All I know is the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell!” Scott says. “And I learned that from a meme!”

He looks so miserable that Stiles can’t help laughing at him. “It’s okay, Scotty. We’ll make sure you pass!”

“Thanks, dude. I need all the help I can get.”

Stiles chews his bottom lip for a moment. “Are you still hanging with Allison?”

“Yeah.” Scott flushes. “It really sucks that I can’t tell her about you, you know? She said that she keeps driving around town hoping she’ll spot you somewhere.”

Stiles’s breath catches. He tries to smile. “Hopefully not to hand me over to her aunt the cop, right?”

“No.” Scott holds his gaze. “Stiles, she says she hasn’t said anything to her aunt about even knowing you. I believe her.”

“Kate Argent set my dad up,” Stiles says. “Or at least helped whoever did.”

“What?” Scott’s jaw drops. “Seriously?”

“I don’t have any proof,” Stiles says. “But I heard her on the phone to my dad, warning him to drop the investigation into the Hale fire. So I’m guessing that she had something to do with the fire as well.”

“But that was an accident…” Scott trails off. “Wasn’t it?”

“My dad didn’t think so.” Stiles twists his hands together. The knot of anxiety in his gut is growing larger.

“Holy shit.” Scott’s gaze grows distant. “Cora Hale was the year above me in elementary school.”

“I didn’t know them,” Stiles says. “I went to Stuart, not Beacon Hills.”

“Ooh,” Scott teases. “A private school kid! Very swanky!”

“My mom taught there.” He looks down at the open Biology textbook. “We paid reduced fees. It was a Montessori school, which turned out to be a good fit for a kid with ADD plus zero social skills.” 

When he looks up again, Scott shows him an encouraging smile.

“Anyway.” Stiles closes the textbook. “I never met the Hales.”

“Cora was kind of scary,” Scott says. “I heard they never found her body.”

Just another thing that never added up about the Hale fire. Why would the Hales hide in the basement after a gas line explosion? And the fire investigator had said that the fire burned at such a high temperature that there was simply nothing to find of some of the bodies. Cora had never been found. Neither had one of the adults. And another one of the kids too. The teenage boy. The brother.

Derek.

Derek.

Stiles scrambles for Scott’s laptop.

Derek Hale. Sixteen years old.

Holy shit.

Stiles finds a picture online of a guy in a Beacon Hills High basketball uniform. A guy who looks absolutely nothing like Stiles.

“Hello again, Derek. You don’t look so good.”

Kate Argent must be crazy, or that’s her guilty conscience speaking.

He wonders, when she has people over, if she can hear a telltale heart beating from under the floorboards.

If she does, it serves her right.

 ***

 They order pizza because it helps with homework. That’s a scientific fact. They eat the pizza in front of the TV, which doesn’t help at all with homework.

“So you think Allison’s aunt had something to do with the Hales?” Scott asks.

“Yeah.” Stiles picks off a piece of pepperoni and eats it. “That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“We should really tell my mom,” Scott says. “And my dad.”

“Not without proof! If we tell your dad, then he’s obligated to do something about me being a missing person. And, you know, wanted by the police.”

Scott sumps back against the couch. “I can’t believe she shot your dog.”

Stiles feels the customary low burn of anger in his gut flare for a moment.

“Sucks, dude.”

Yeah. It really, really does. 

 ***

 They talk for a while about whether or not to tell Allison what’s going on. If her aunt has links to the Hale fire, than surely Allison is in the best place to try and discover some proof of that? Scott is sure that she can be trusted. Stiles isn’t willing to risk his freedom on that. Scott agrees that it’s Stiles’s call.

Stiles goes to bed just before midnight. He curls up under his comforter and thinks of all the times he sat in the alley with the dog.

Entropy.

Decay.

He has to act.

At the same time, he’s afraid. Everything is already so precarious that he’s terrified to make any move at all.

He tosses and turns for a while. He maybe dozes.

The basement has windows set high in the walls, at ground-level outside. The moon is a half-moon tonight, but bright enough that faint light filters through the windows. It fills the basement with a gentle glow.

Melissa says that if Stiles is allowed to stay, he can have the room next to Scott’s. But for now he shares the basement with the washing machine and dryer, and a shelf full of old board games, Christmas decorations, and assorted junk. He doesn’t mind that everything smells like fabric softener.

Stiles doesn’t think he’s asleep when the basement door opens, but he seems to jerk awake all the same.

“Stiles?” Scott whispers in the darkness. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” Stiles whispers back.

Scott’s footsteps creak down the steps.

Stiles sits up. Scott stands in front of the sofa bed. He’s shifting his weight from foot to foot, and even in the dim light he looks pale and wide-eyed.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asks.

“Can you hear that?” Scott shakes his head like a dog after a bath under the hose.

Stiles listens in the silence for a moment. “Hear what?”

Scott wrinkles his nose, and tilts his head. “Howling?”

Stiles listens again. “Dude, I can’t hear anything.”

“It woke me up.” Scott’s breath is coming in short panicked gasps.

Stiles remembers Melissa checking with him before she went to work that he knew where his inhaler was. “Do you need your inhaler?”

“N-no.” The question seems to distract him from his rising anxiety. He sucks in a deep, uninhibited breath. “No, I think I’m okay.” Then his forehead wrinkles. “How am I okay?”

“Lets…let’s go up stairs and get your inhaler, okay?”

Scott nods. “I think there’s something wrong with me. Really wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Stiles tells him.

Scott’s huffs out a laugh that sounds as though it’s bordering hysteria. “I can hear you lying!”

Stiles puts his hand over his fast-thumping heart. “That sounds really impossible, Scott.”

“I know.” Scott drags his fingers through his hair. “I know it does.” He freezes suddenly, and turns to stare up at one of the windows.

Stiles follows his gaze.

A shadow passes in front of the window.

“Did you—” he whispers.

Did you see that?

But the words don’t come.

Because when Stiles turns his head to look at Scott again, Scott’s eyes are glowing gold.

Sleep paralysis.

Imagination.

Frontotemporal dementia.

A nightmare.

Except Stiles knows in the pit of his stomach that whatever is happening now is a hundred times more terrifying than any nightmare, because he knows it’s real.

From outside, a howl tears through the night. It’s loud enough and close enough that Stiles feels the echo of it reverberating through his bones. The sound is big enough to swallow the world, and Stiles knows instinctively that he’s powerless in the face of this, whatever this is.

And then it’s gone again.

The shadow passes in front of the window.

Scott’s eyes are no longer glowing.

“It’s gone,” Scott whispers. “Holy shit. What was that?”

And Stiles stares back at him and thinks: What are you, Scotty?

#fan fic #teen wolf #hunger #sterek #discontentedwinter

[katiasstories]

Cycles

The faint echoes of her bare feet against the wooden floor was the only way Liliana could feel a sense of peace. It was her ritual before bed: She had to tire herself to tire her mind; a mind too loud unless distracted by repetitive, mundane tasks. She was doing this, yet again, on another school night. One semester and she would graduate. One semester and she could leave the footprints behind and start another trail.

A loud buzz broke Liliana out of her daze. It was her phone, shaking violently at precisely 2:53 a.m. A text from her Mama: Por que no me llames? Te extraño. Why don’t you call me? I miss you.

Liliana dropped her phone carelessly as her heart fell. A part of her wondered: Why the hell is my mother texting me at this hour? And another part of her concluded: She wants to know if I’m alive; if I am happy. Liliana wanted to say that she was busy, or that she was asleep, but knew the response would warrant an incoming call from her madre.

Ignorance was the logical choice--she could call her mother tomorrow, maybe next weekend. The thought of shrieking, “Hola, Mami!” over the phone made Liliana cringe. She could already picture the heavy, false-delight of her own voice, raised an octave too high in an attempt to replicate joy.

The simple task alone was too tiring. And so Liliana continued to pace, back and forth, back and forth, until her eyelids almost fell off her face and onto the shiny floor. Then she could sleep; then she could start the cycle all over again.

                                                            *

Liliana unconsciously created her own cycle: Pace to fall asleep, ice-cold shower to wake the tired mind, pick at new and old scabs to calm the nerves, place a wool hat over the damage, and walk out the door with eyes glued to the floor. That was the jist of Liliana’s routine--a cycle that never stopped, except for sometimes. Those sometimes were mostly toxic: Mostly a chemical-reaction induced by dulling, green pills.

It was too hot on this particular day to wear the hat. Liliana frowned as her forehead formed beads of sweat. I look ridiculous, she thought as she gaped in the mirror. Her dark, curly hair looked oily and her nose looked extra crooked. Her eyes were huge and her upper-lip too small. This isn’t going to work, she continued to think.

“Lilly!” Her only roommate, Stephen, shouted through the door. “Are you alive?!”

She grunted, wiped away her sweat with her slender fingers, and cracked her bedroom door open. Stephen was a friend from way, way back. They had met in Catholic school--first at Sunday mass when they were six or seven. The pair still clung together, much like tangled electrical cords, seemingly cemented but evermore present to yield security.

“Jesus Christ,” Liliana replied as she slowly opened the door. “If I were dead you would be able to smell me, you know.”

Stephen cackled. “Well, hello to you, too.” He looked at her head. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a week. But I don’t even care anymore.” He paused. “ Just tell me why you’re still wearing that same goddamn beanie?!”

Liliana was grateful she had put rose rouge on her cheeks. Her real face was red in shame.

“Screw off,” she spat. “This is my identity.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now let me in.”

“Fine.”

Liliana fully opened her door and allowed Stephen to prowl like a curious cat. Nobody was allowed in her personal grotto; a cave that quite literally smelled like one. It was too stuffy and there were too many things from the past. A calendar from 2014, a cross that held no meaning to her, clothes she would wear when she was 16.

“Sometimes I want to slap the sadness out of you,” Stephen sighed. “But this is the best I can do.”

He smiled gloomily as he opened his pale hand to reveal a handful of pills the color of vomit. Like puke, xanax was bitter and ugly but quite relieving. Liliana grinned--the first smile of the day. A part of the cycle.

“I love you, Stevie-bear,” Liliana cooed as she snatched four, two milligram xanax bars. The rest were for Stephen: Again, a part of the ritual.

Stephen furrowed his brows. He looked hesitant and finally said, “No, they’re all for you. I quit.” This was not a part of the cycle.

Liliana had to sit on her twin-sized mattress in order to process his words. Stephen was the angel that introduced her to benzodiazepines and opiates approximately four years ago. They stuck side-by-side at the same college, meeting a few people here and there, but nevertheless ending up alone, together. His tone was synonymous to “I’m leaving you forever.”

“Um. Wait. What?”

“Yeah, I know. I already started to ween off this shit. Can’t afford it anymore,” he explained matter-of-factly. His gaze did not reach hers; it was fixed on the floor.

Liliana was silent before she muttered, “Oh. Well, thanks. Can you please leave me alone now?”

                                                     *

Alone was what she asked for and alone is what Liliana received. It had been two weeks since Stephen “quit” xanax. Stephen opted to smoke more cigarettes. He was rarely home. When he was at the apartment, he was sleeping or watching TV with some girl from his class. The site made Liliana sick to her stomach--not very sick, though. Her mind was too foggy to come to the realization that Stephen had retreated from Liliana’s comforting, toxic cycle.

Unfortunately, Liliana depended on Stephen to bring her pills and candy and love and warmth. He did not do this anymore; maybe he quit because he loved her too much. The thought was there but it didn’t make sense. A loving Stephen would not abandon Liliana like this! If this was love, she didn’t want to feel it.

It took a vast amount of courage to crawl out of her room. She still hadn’t called her mother. Liliana could do that tomorrow. Right now all she needed was a dealer to sell her more pills as her small stash had come to a staggering halt. She wished she could save those last two pills forever. And ever, and ever.

“Hey, Stephen,” Liliana called shyly from the hallway. He was propped on the couch. His arm was around the boring, nameless girl.

“What?!”

“Can you come here?”

Stephen obliged, sighing as he got up from the crusty couch. Liliana was not one to approach strangers, even if they were probably sexually involved with her best friend. She liked to stick to things she knew: Pacing, scratching, pacing to class, popping pills, and melting into the couch with Stephen. Liliana was still resentful the latter had to be replaced with activities that only included herself.

She could, still, call her mother--perhaps she could catch up with her family. There was only Mama and her older brother, Pedro, but they had their own lives to tend to. In Liliana’s clouded mind, she was a nuisance--they only reached out to her because they had to.

“What’s up? You look really terrible today,” Stephen said, interrupting waves and waves of thoughts that carried her tiny family to shore. Mi pequeña familia, her mother would announce proudly.

“Thanks,” retorted Liliana. “You tryna give me your dealer’s number? I’m a big girl now, you know.”

Stephen shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t do that, Lilly. He wouldn’t want to me to give out his number, anyway.”

Liliana's forehead was on fire. Stephen’s words struck her across her face like a harsh, deserving slap. She was reminded of her mother’s heated palm when she would misbehave as a child.

“Whatever,” was all Liliana could come up with. “I don’t need you.” She wanted to scream, I need you Stephen.

                                                        *

The cycle was broken. She was too nervous to contact people who could possibly have any pills, so she did not retrieve any. At first the difference was minute, then earth-shattering. Liliana would have fits of hysteria, sob into her pillow, and pace back and forth. Back and forth, back and forth, more so than before. The showers did not wake her up anymore because she was already awake. The wounds on her scalp were bloody and plentiful, but not enough. She couldn’t focus during class so she stopped attending, here and there.

The cycle was broken.

“What can I do?” Liliana asked herself. She was six days clean and the rolling fog banks that often drifted in her mind were absent. She relied on the cloudiness to keep the unwanted thoughts away. Lilianna felt ashamed: Her addiction was harrowingly clear now. It wasn’t a part of the cycle. The pills were the cycle; now her life felt like a vase that had been pushed off a steep, steep table. Bits and pieces lay shattered and sprawled--Liliana did not know where to begin. How could she put everything back together without xanax, her super-glue?

“What can I do?” She asked herself again.

Liliana had strolled through the park earlier in the day. It was an extraordinary action but it did not change anything. She even went to her school’s gym for the first time in a year. It didn’t help. She still felt on edge--like there was something she had to do.

Violent buzzes from her phone interrupted the repetitive question of what to do. It was Liliana’s mother. And then a stroke of clarity struck her, a little like lightning. She knew what she wanted; what she deserved: Candid love. Stephen’s love was not love; she only adored his essence because he always lugged beautiful, ladder-shaped pills.

It was time to really break the cycle.

“Hola, Mami,” Lilianna answered her phone in a shy quiver. She felt like crying but she didn’t. A genuine, rare layer of sweetness coated Liliana’s voice as she began to spill broken-Spanish, quietly and then heavily.

“Es un milagro que cogiste el teléfono,” said her mother. It’s a miracle that you picked up the phone.

                                                                                                               *

#short story #fiction #addiction #xanax #pills #love #family #familia #benzos #benzodiazepines #anxiety #depression #mental illness #trichotillomania