Arsonist's Lullabye ──── Leo Valdez

33: Leo and Vincent are NOT together Nico and Cas are NOT together

─────Vincent dreamed of Leo. 

They were thirteen. He remembered that day so vividly, it was hard not to slip back into the memory. 

The house went up in flame behind them, the Wilsons screaming bloody murder as Leo and Vincent ran as far as their legs could take them. They didn't even know where they were going, they never really planned this stuff out. Just ran where the roads took them.

That night, the roads took them to a park with so many trees, it could have passed for a forest. Vincent hadn't been to a forest after his dad. The night was stormy, and thunder boomed overhead, a warning for a storm. 

They didn't stop running until Leo had to dig his fingernails in Vincent's arm. He was too out of breath to say anything, gasping and panting to say anything. Eventually they slowed to a stop and Vincent leaned against a tree. 

His heart was racing in his chest and it wasn't because of the fact that they had run for half an hour without stopping. 

He let his head fall back against the trunk of a tree while he attempted to catch his breath. 

"What was that?" Leo wheezed in front of him, leaning his arm against a different tree. Under the moonlight, his face wasn't well illuminated, but Vincent could see his expression of anguish. 

"You're asking me?" Vincent snapped. 

The whole day had been so much. All he wanted to do was collapse and sleep.

But he knew Leo would want answers. Answers Vincent didn't have. Even he wasn't sure what had happened back at the Wilsons. All he knew was that Mr. Wilson was going to hurt his best friend and Vincent didn't want that. 

He reached into Mr. Wilson, like he was pushing away every single part of him, stripping his personality until the only thing that remained in front of him was a shell of a man with his biggest fear. Mr. Wilson loved control. He needed to be in control. He needed to have some foster kids who listened to him. He was a fucking tyrant, and a cruel one at that.

Vincent wasn't sure how he did it, but he wished to show Mr. Wilson his worst fear come alive.

Now all he remembered was the grown man falling to his knees, sobbing. 

But then again, there was the question of how the house went up in flames as they ran. Mrs. Wilson tried to run after them, so Leo paused long enough to shut the door. It wasn't nearly enough time to dig out a matchbox and light the place on fire. So what had Leo done? What had happened? Was the whole night just a figment of Vincent's imagination? Would he wake up the next morning in the same bed in the Wilson's house?

"I—I don't know what that was." Leo stared at him with eyes wide in fear. Vincent wanted to forget about the whole night and just go to sleep next to his best friend. "Vince, what did you do to Mr. Wilson?"

"I didn't!" Vincent swallowed, "I didn't, okay, I didn't do anything!"

"He just let us go"

"He was going to hurt you" Vincent choked out, "I couldn't let him do that!"

"I know but—"

The first few raindrops felt like a miracle. This is exactly what Vincent needed. The droplets fell on his face, cool against his flushed cheeks. He closed his eyes and hit his head back against the tree trunk. 

In no time, the two of them were soaked from head to toe. The rain that began with soft few drops turned into a torrential downpour. The tree trunks turned slick with water, the grass under their feet squelching with every move. The rain noises drowned out the far away sounds of the city, but neither of them said anything.