Don't Worry || Chris Chambers x Reader

Give Them What They Want

(A/N: Wow it's been a while, huh? I do not have remotely as much motivation for this as I used to. Life really hits you like a bag of bricks, lol. But I always return to this story that I started writing in 8th grade. Now nearing the end of my senior year of high school, I figure, let's finish this project and give everyone a show. I'm not going to rush it-- and I'm not sure how consistent posts will be, but it will be finished. Somehow, sometime. Thank you.)

Teddy's bright smile creeps across his face as he flicks the leaf from his hand, falling to the ground beside him. 

In an instant, he shoots to his feet, scooping dirt in his hands as he rises. My heart rate shoots up and I reciprocate his actions. I feel my pulse pounding in my barely healed wound, and a sting as my body moves, but this does not deter me. 

Small clumps of dry dirt slip through my fingers as I run at Teddy.

The air slowly turns cloudy with puffs of loose dust being thrown in every direction. I feel my nerves shoot with acute pain with every abrupt movement, but the joy of the moment managed to subdue the pain. In our battle, Teddy happens to cover poor Vern in dirt, leaving dust to stain the collar of his shirt.

"Oh man, really?" Vern whines. 

Teddy averts his focus from me to look over at Tessio, "What? Can't handle getting a little dirty?", followed by a classic "eeee-eeee-eeee"

Whilst his head is turned away from me, I take my palm of dirt and slide it down his face, leaving a brown hand print from his glasses to his neck. "Oh, oops." I laugh. 

Teddy whips his head around to look at me, with that familiar twinge of trouble in his gaze. "Y/L/N, this will be your last day alive! BOMBS AWAY!" He leaps towards me, whipping a surprising amount of dirt and rocks at me. They rain down, pelting my skin.

This goes on for god knows how long, until my arm wound is caked shut with a layer of debris, making the flesh stiff and kind of grody to look at.

The sky has now entirely lost any semblance of color it once held; and the wind now feels colder since Chris and Gordie put out the fire. We settle in our spots beside our bedrolls once more. I lightly brush away the little rocks sitting on top of my arm, taking my rest from "WWIII" as Teddy would view it. He always thought himself a fighting man, though I can't recall ever hearing a single story of Duchamp in a real fight. Teddy has far more bark than he does bite. 

Watching the embers of our fire dwindle and flicker like a little candlelight, the forest echoes with a sweeping whistle noise, sending shivers down my spine. This eerie feeling settles over all of us as our conversations curtail themselves. It seems we all went silent in hopes to hear this whistle again; to make sure it wasn't some perverse figment of our imaginations. 

As it reverberates in our eardrums once more, Vern cries "Oh my god!"

Teddy leans in, "It's that Brower kid, his ghost is walking in the woods." Punctuating his words with mimicked ghost noises and hand gestures to go along with it. 

Vern, not sensing the sarcasm, amps up his nerves "I promise I'll hawk no more dirty books. I promise I won't say no more bad swears. I promise I'll eat all my Lima beans!"

Teddy jumps at Vern, and he lets out a yelp as he cowers in fear

"Two for flinching." 

He socks Vern in the arm lightly twice, as he groans. 

Watching those two argue was like watching an old married couple. As much as they may bicker, they had truly been the best of friends. I lay down across my bedroll, propping my head up with my hand and shifting my focus to the other two. 

"What is it, Chris?" Gordie leans into Chambers, the two of them cautiously looking out towards the woods beyond. 

He sighs, "Maybe it's coyotes." 

The thought of wild coyotes roaming so near to our little campsite fills me with dread. I've never seen a coyote so up close before, and I didn't really intend to.

"It sounds like a woman screaming."

This is when Teddy throws himself back into the conversation, "No it's not coyotes, it's his ghost!"

Vern, still visibly distressed, "Don't say that."

With a small laugh, Teddy stands from where he was, and starts confidently walking towards the woods, away from the residual warmth from our fire. "I'm going to look"

Now with more concern in his voice, "Teddy, sit down." Chris demands. 

"I'm gonna look for it, I wanna see the ghost." Teddy says, with that familiar rebellious desire hanging on his tongue. 

"Don't SAY that."

He rolls his eyes, "I just wanna see it. I wanna see what it looks like!"

Before he could finish his sentence, the noise echoes once more-- this time far closer than it had been earlier. The lot of us drop to the ground out of fear; and Teddy scrambles back to the campsite like a dog with its' tail tucked between its' legs.

I can hardly stifle my laugh, "Oh what, you scared of a little ghost?" 

"Shut up."

I raise my eyebrows with a smile, but before I can start, Duchamp cuts me off

"Don't even think about it."

Chris and Gordie come closer to our little site, and crouch down to regain our conversation. Maybe it was out of desire to talk to us, but I suspect it was a way to hide their fear of the noises that are circling our site. 

I look over to Chris, and hold his gaze for a couple seconds before my attention is once again stolen from me when the noise shakes the trees nearby.

"Maybe we should stand guard." Vern suggests. 

Duchamp's ear perks up.

Chris replies, "Yeah, that's a good idea." As he digs for his father's pistol. 

Teddy's excitement only swells, "Gimmie the gun, I'll take first watch."

I hold Chris's gaze once more, and let out a small sigh beneath my breath, smiling. He stares for just a second longer than usual, and Teddy pipes up again to catch his attention. "C'mon Chris I'll take first watch." 

Chris refocuses and passes the loaded pistol to Duchamp. We watch as he parades himself up from the bedrolls and over to the trunk of a nearby tree. "Twenty three hundred hours. Corporal Teddy Duchamp stands guard. No sign of the enemy, the fort is secure."

I roll my eyes, "Shut upppp Teddy, keep your eyes peeled."

Chris smiles at me before looking back at Teddy zoned in. He has a focus unlike any I've ever seen him display in the time that I've known him. It truly looks like he's daydreaming of the beaches from back in his father's day. 

Sure enough, Teddy begins making fake firing sounds with his mouth, pretending to be a soldier. 

The rest of us groan at his show, wanting him to keep his eye on watch. "Teddy come on we're trying to sleep"

There is a pause of silence

"The dogfaces rested easy in the knowledge that Corporal Teddy Duchamp was protecting all of them"

"Teddy!" Chris yells. 

From then, the forest faded out to silence. Rested in my bedroll adjacent to Chris's I whisper a quiet 'good night', and he gives me a soft smile before closing his eyes. He reaches his hand to mine lightly, and I shiver as the warm sensation of his hand shoots through me. I grab his hand back and give it a small squeeze before he drops it and falls asleep. 

Soon enough, I drift off with a smile stained on my face.