Keep Running (Killjoy)

10

*warning- possible trigger scene in the second half??

C.W.'s POV:
Kobra was definitely improving since he got shot by that Drac. No more of his fragile, silent demeanor showed off while he laughed at a joke I'd made while the others were reporting to Dr. D in a different part of the building. It was then when I could see the resemblance between him and his brother, their faces were undeniably (practically) identical. The hair color and jawlines were the few things that really stood out, but they were overall like twins. Party just seemed more alive and rowdy and outgoing in comparison.

"How's Battery City?" He asked out of nowhere.

"Alright, I guess. It's still creepy in a dystopian way where everything's been meticulously planned out, so you never know if there's something weird going on in the sense of getting into trouble." I shrugged.

"Did you find her or...?"

"No, Party went up to the highest floor and found her up there. Our floor was completely empty and abandoned. Like, everything was turned on but left alone to lose energy and eventually power off."

"Weird."

"Yeah. How's your arm been doing?"

"Okay. It doesn't hurt as much unless I try taking it out of the wrap-thing around it."

"Well, duh, you have to wear the bandage."

"It's itchy and not comfortable for sleeping."

"It's either that or infect your arm."

"I know, but I'm still complaining about it no matter what. You should go talk to everyone; the doctors wanna check up on me in like 3 minutes."

"Okay. You good?" I said reluctantly.

"I'll be fine. You seem hesitant about going."

"It's just that Ambrosia's acting a little off. Not like, BL/Ind kind of no-emotions but as if there's a restriction to how much she can hang around us. She's more distant."

"Oh. Did they give her a medication shot or something?"

"No. Party said she was fighting when he found her."

"That's a good sign. You should try to figure out what's up with her or else I'll hear about it for the next week from Party."

I chuckled, "Sure. I'll spare you his dramatic stories and wish you goodnight. See ya later, Kobra!"

"You too." He smiled, raising only the corner of his mouth.

P.P.'s POV:
Everyone from our group had gone to bed early, too tired to stay up much longer from bursting into Battery City. Destroya and I were sitting back in my art room, her flipping through one of my old art-book while I made a rough sketch of her focused features. She hasn't said a single thing either, but I wouldn't have known if there was something up. I didn't know her that well so maybe she just wasn't feeling talkative.

"Hey, anything going on? You're quiet today." I asked.

She looked up, brushing the hair out of her face then answering: "No, I'm okay."

"You sure? Don't lie about it, if you are you'll just make it worse for yourself. I don't want you to be upset when I could've helped you."

"Seriously, I'm fine."

"Promise?"

"What are you, five?"

"No, I can tell that you're lying."

Destroya sighed and looked back at my papers, pretending not to hear me. I copied her actions, but worry still lingered in my mind for the next twenty minutes of silence. My pencil lightly etched the outline of her soft face and added the details of her shaded gray eyes. Long eyelashes and dark brown, curved brows framed them practically perfectly. Next was her small, rounded nose and rouge lips. The fading silver-blue strands of hair framing the edges of her face were drawn before I shaded the first part of my drawing.

As soon as I finished, my attention was back on her condition. I'd respected her want for me to not ask her about yhe condition she was in for long enough. My concern had grown and there was no way I could leave her alone about it. I took the sketchbook gently out of her hands, bringing her gaze up to my eyes. Her pupils dilated and she had a questioning look on her face.

"Why'd you do that?" Destroya furrowed her brows.

"We are sitting here, like this, until you tell me the truth." I explained.

"Party, leave it be."

"I can't."

"Fine! You want the truth?!"

I nodded.

"What do you think Better Living did to me? Feed me ice cream and cookies?"

"Well, no..."

"I'm wearing my jacket now. And you know I hate it since it's always too hot."

"That was one of my thoughts-"

"Look. See for yourself what they did to me." She spoke, stripping off the leather garment and throwing it down.

Her arms were covered in dark bruises and scabbed-over skin. The cuts were like small pricks or messy gashes lining up the length of her pale arm from the wrist upwards. It was clear that someone had gone to use a sharp object on her but failed at whatever they were trying to do since Destroya fought back with an unwavering determination. Looking back into her shining eyes, she was holding back her emotions from being visible so she could look stronger.

"And this is just my arms. Better Living doesn't leave their victims' clothes on for morality if it gets in the way of their experimentation. My legs and torso look about the same. They yelled at me, said the worst things I could ever bear listening to throughout the process. So yeah, I'm okay Party." She finally stated before crumpling to the ground and letting her hair cover her pained expression.

"Shhh," I shooshed her from talking any more and wrapped my arms around her hurt, frail body.

Wet tears soaked into my jacket and shirt as the tears from her eyes managed to slip their ways out. With hands pressed onto my chest and head rested on my shoulder, the tough killjoy's façade was broken down. I held her there for as long as she needed me to, murmuring things I hoped were soothing to her into her ear.

"I'm sorry," She whispered once her head lifted from its place on my shoulder.

"Don't you dare say that." I replied.

"Why? Your shirt's soaked and I forced an unnecessary mission on you guys."

"You have nothing to apologize for- my shirt'll survive, we need you as a fighter, your friends treat you like family because that's how much they respect you, and I need you in general."

"I'm just some random killjoy you found on the verge of dying in the middle of a random section." She retorted.

"That might be true for how we met. But that's not the only thing you are to me."

"Then tell me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know how to say it and I don't have the bravery to say it. But I can tell you in another way..." I smirked.

I brushed off the tears on her face with my thumb, placing my hands on the sides of her face and bringing our lips together. Hopefully, my message came across clear to her since I was too fücking scared to say 'Hey, I think I might love you. But then again, I dont really know how that would feel so sorry for being confusing.'