A Gain Of The Found

Chapter 6

One week later

Floyd's POV

    I've been in Cancer for about a week now. Matilda, Lance, Sebastian, and I have been doing very well as a trio. They don't seem to have a problem with my animal. They also don't seem to have a problem with my gender or sexuality.

I'm currently walking back towards our shared dorm from the chow hall. I've gotten closer to the three in the past week, but not much. I don't open up easily and i'm still waiting for them to start bullying me. What I'm really worried about is how I'll react.

When I was in school, I never stood up against the others. I just let them have at me. Now, I've been getting in shape to join Cancer for the past three years. I'm not exactly jacked, but I definitely have muscle. I worried that if they try to bully me I'll lose control and hurt them or something.

I'm abruptly brought out of my thoughts by someone shoving me from behind. I'm just barely able to stop myself from ending up sprawled across the floor. With a glare on my face, I turn around. I've spent my whole life being bullied. If this is someone who's looking to pick on me, I'm not gonna deal with their shit. It took many years, but I've gathered the courage to fight back.

The culprits are both male. One's a few inches taller than me and the other's about my height. "What do you want?" I growl out. I'm ready to throw punches if it comes to that.

"Ya know," the taller one starts in a twangy voice that makes it obvious he's full of himself, "Words been goin' around that yer a faggot. That true?"

As I take in his sauntering voice, his laid back posture, and the words coming out of his mouth, I can't help the anger that flows out of me. He's such a country bullying fuck that I don't even try to hold back. I immediately pounce on him. My fist connects with his ugly face. I use my other hand to claw at his neck. In my rage, I forget about the shorter guy.

The smaller male tackles me from the side. We roll a few feet from the first guy who's laying on the floor clutching his face and neck. The two of us land with him on top of me. He quickly pulls his fist back and then drives it forward. It connects with my cheekbone. I feel my cheekbone crack and cave in. I have to give him credit. It was a powerful it, but I'm to high in the frenzy to scream.

I grab the back of his head and pull it closer. Using as much strength as I can muster, I slam my head into his. This time there is a scram. It rips through the air as he pinwheels backwards. I pull my legs out from under me and stand up. Hovering over the two "men," I say, "Try this shit again, and I won't hesitate to kill you."  (dun dun duuuuun)

Shakily I start back down the hallway. Gingerly, I bring my hand up to feel my cheek. I instantly regret it. A sharp aching pain blossoms in my face. I jerk my hand away from my face and continue to head to my dorm room. Matilda, Lance, and Sebastian in the training room again. When I get to the dorm I should be alone, not that I can take care of my face. I have bandages in my purple bag.

When I get to the dorm, I open the door and step inside. I quickly go into the coat closet next to the door. Kneeling down, I grab a bulky box and pull it closer to me.

"Floyd, is that you?" Sebastian calls from behind me. I instantly freeze. I quickly shove the box back where it belong and stand up. I can't turn around or he'll see my face. I can't answer him or he'll hear the pain in my voice. "Floyd?" Sebastian calls again.

I hear him get closer and I decide that I can trust him. I don't know what it is, but I want his help. I want him to care for me. I want his love. (doki doki)

Slowly, I (write this sentence) turn around to face him. My eyes are closed because I don't want to see his reaction. Because of this, I miss the widening of his eyes as he takes in my battered face.

Sebastian's POV 

    In shock, I shakily step towards Floyd. Reaching my hand out, I gently cup his face and tilt it to the side so that I can see it better. "Who did this to you?" I ask him.

    "It's nothing," he says, trying to shrug it off. But I don't miss his unsteady voice and the quiver in his swollen lip.

"Nothing," I scoff. Trying to control my anger and unexplainable over protectiveness, I gently direct Floyd towards the bathroom. "Strip." I ground out once we've gone inside of the room.

    Floyd blushes and quietly shakes his head no. Gritting my teeth, I move him in front of the bathroom light and tear his shirt in half. A gasp of surprise joins the ripping noise I've created as Floyd tries to turn his exposed chest away from me. Quickly grabbing his shoulders I order him not to move. Once I'm sure he'll stay still, I turn towards the medical cabinet. Opening the door, I grab rubbing alcohol, tape, cotton balls, and a few other things.

Going back over to Floyd, I start to clean his wounds.

"What happened?" I ask him in a hushed voice.

After a minute or two of silence, Floyd answers my question.

"I was walking to the chow hall when these two guys approached me. The bigger of the two shoved me and called me a faggot. We ended up getting into a fight."

"Who were they?" I ask after listening to Floyd's short explanation.

"I've never seen them before." Floyd answers.

Deciding that I'll ask around later, I nod my  head and continue to take care of Floyd's wounds. I know that Floyd can take care of himself. That's why what I'm really worried about right now is the scars on his arms.