The Runaways

Chapter Forty-Nine - Awkward Timing

Blake

I've had to discard of a lot of bodies with being an assassin and all. But I've never had to discard the body of a child— let alone an infant. Usually I was able to desensitize myself by telling myself the person I killed deserved it, that they were a monster, thief, murder, rapist, racist, criminal. There is no way to desensitize myself from this. I had just held a dead baby in my arms and buried him in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night. There's just no possible way to block that out of someone's memory, there's no way to make it any better. I felt so— dirty. I didn't kill the baby, if anything I was helping to keep it alive, and yet I felt so guilty and gross. I buried a dead baby.

Walking through the woods I groaned as I caught glimpse of a familiar campfire sitting in the middle of the trees and brush not far away from the town. I mean I was pissed at the guy, but I rather do anything else than think about holding a dead baby corpse in my arms in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night.

Shamefully I walked into the small area Remington had made for himself and was now calling it home. There he was in all his glory, laying on the grass with another bottle of a mysterious alcohol. At least he finally had all his clothes on this time but Jesus, does he not take a break? You'd think after being hungover all day the last thing you'd want is more alcohol.

"Remington what are you doing?" I sighed.

Remington sat up to look at me before he rolled his eyes and laid back down, "If your here to yell at me you can go ahead and leave now please and thank you."

I just took a seat in the grass a few feet away from him and pulled my hair out of its bun, I let the messy black strains fall down covering my undercut and making my neck, shoulders, and back feel warm again. Usually I don't like wearing my hair down especially when it's all knotted and messy, but right now I could care less about how I looked.

Remington prompted himself up on his elbow to see why I gave him no response, "Did something happen?"

"The baby died." I sighed.

He blinked a couple times and stared down, "Oh. That's... unfortunate."

"Yeah it is." I said bitterly as I glared at him.

"Well why are you giving me that look now?" Remington groaned.

"You could've helped."

"Oh c'mon are you seriously going to go on with that bullshit again? Look woman I don't know what to tell you, I ain't no brain doctor. And I'm not some sort of— fucking— miracle worker either. Now if you wanna yell at me just get the hell out already. There's nothing I can do now. I don't know what you get out of coming over here and yelling at me every twelve hours." Remington snapped.

"I just— I don't understand why you don't want to help. What other reasons would it be other than your just selfish— I just... I guess I see myself as morally higher than you and I weaponize that as an excuse to throw all my frustrations at you." I blurted out as I ran my hands down my face, "it's just so much more crueler seeing a baby die. It makes you feel so shitty inside."

Remington just sat there and nodded. He didn't look like he had much to say to help. "Thanks for admitting your being a dick." He muttered as he took a sip.

"Well you still are too. Your being selfish."

"I just started to like you again Blake and you just ruined it."

"I admitted my flaws! You can't admit yours?!" I snapped back.

"Your the aggressor here."

I threw my hands up in frustration, "THERES A FUCKING DYING BABY AND YOU GO ON A TWO DAY DRINKING SPREE!"