Bile coats my tongue, the thick liquid running down my throat in disgusting garbles each time I swallow it back. No matter how many times its banished, it comes running back, ready to fill my mouth with its bitter taste.
The man goes slack beneath me, the rise of his chest ceasing. His head is a mass of blood and- Oh my god, is that his brain?
The bile comes quicker this time, filling my mouth with a foul taste, warning me of what is to come. I leap to my feet, knees immediately bashing into the blood-slick tiles as my legs give out beneath me during my haste actions. I manage to crawl to the toilet, not even bothering to lift the seat before I wretch into the bowl of it.
I'm not too sure how long I sit there, vomiting up anything and everything between the walls of otherwise pristine porcelain. My hair sticks to my face from the sweat, tears and blood coating it. Due to the fact that I'm not really trying to stay clean, I wouldn't be surprised if there was some sick plastered on my chin, too.
The nausea eventually subsides to gentle churn in my gut, but I continue to feel the pounding ache in my head from the feverish hurling that had gone on for god knows how long. Slumping against the edge of the bathtub, I stare straight ahead, out into the hallway, ultimately avoiding the sight of the two dead bodies in my close proximity. Dizziness overcomes me, rendering me disoriented and more breathless than before, the once steady rise and fall of my chest limited to shaky, sharp intakes of breath when my panic-ridden body allows it.
My hands, covered in violet bruises and blood, rest themselves palm-down over my thighs, their muck tainting my jeans in streaks of red.
Jesus, fuck, man.
Knowing I can't stay there forever, I rise on shaking legs, feeling pathetic; beaten.
Beaten by some lousy, suit-wearing cunt with a smile that probably costs more than my Ma's car.
My body moves towards the sink, chucks squeaking slightly through the puddle of gore smeared across the cheaply made white bathroom tiles. Shaking hands fumble for the knob handle of the tap, grasping it as tightly as possible before twisting it left. After a second of resistance, it turns on, clean water rushing from the faucet. I stand there for a minute, letting the loud noise flush out the sound of the gunshots, the sound of my sister's scream as a bullet punctures her forehead, from my brain.
After a moment, my hands finally fall beneath the faucet, tired eyes watching as red fluid runs off my knuckles, exposing more of the bruised flesh beneath. I spy a bottle of bleach next to a decorative potted plant sitting idle on the counter.
Better than lousy old hand soap.
Wet hands untwist the child-proof cap of the bleach. Once the red cap labelled "DANGER: TOXIC" is removed, the smell of chemicals fills my senses, oddly refreshing after only smelling the iron taint of blood and puke for the past fifteen minutes or so. Tipping the bottle forward, I let the clear, condensed chemical concentrate run over my free hand, before placing the bottle down and smearing said concentrate evenly between both hands. The slight burn of the alkaline substance eating away at my flesh doesn't even make me blink as I work the cleaning product over my bruised knuckles, between my fingers, slicking it across my palms.
My hands then dip beneath the flowing water once again, ridding my now-reddened hands of the bleach. They shake as I twist the knob right until I feel resistance.
Only then do I meet my own eyes in the mirror.
A large purple splotch dons my jaw, from where that clumsy oaf had clocked me as we fell through the bathroom door. Dried blood flakes from my cheeks and onto my shirt. My eyes are puffy and bloodshot, first from the excessive sobbing, then from the excessive vomiting.
I raise one hand to my face to release the few stray stands of hair stuck in the muck, but stops in its tracks once I take in the ring donning my ring finger.
A thin band, with an electric guitar placed in its centre.
My first thought is a name.
Hobie.
My second is more collected, reasonable.
Where the fuck am I? Where the fuck is he?
Just, WHAT THE FUCK?
OK. Maybe not super reasonable. But a viable question nonetheless.
At this point, I remember I have a phone. Fumbling for the solid rectangular imprint in my jeans pocket, I pull it out, to be met with the sight of a cracked screen, which had most likely gotten its damage from the impact of me being thrown on the ground during the bathroom door collision.
I send up silent prayers that it still works, and with a press on the power button, my suspicions are confirmed. Flat, or maybe even permanently broken.
As I stare at the shattered screen in frustration, I spy the shackle-like watch on my wrist. Oh fuck yes!
After a quick inspection of the multi-verse hopping device, I confirm that its in no way damaged, just has a bit of blood on it. In a few prods to the screen, I manage to call Hobie.
He doesn't even let the first ring finish, picking up immediately.
"y/n? Where are you?"
Despite my prior tension from the absolutely horrifying experience that just occurred, I find solace in the fact that I can still fully relax at the sound of his voice. "God, I don't even know. But- Valeesha is here. Uh, was here. She's dead. Again." I cringe at my bluntness towards the fact that I just witnessed murder; and even caused one.
A rattling sigh can be heard from the other end of the call. "We have your location. We are on our way."
"We? Like, Miguel?"
"Yup. He is currently breathin' heavily at my ear." Something like a grunt can be heard through the receiver, which I can only assume is the grumpypants himself. "Hang tight, darlin'."
Again, I find myself comforted by the familiarity of it all. I'm also wondering how he is so damn calm. "Thank you."
"Pleasure."
Beep, beep.
He leaves me alone in that bathroom, the only audible sound my rattly breathing and the line cutting short as he hangs up the phone call.
~
By the time Hobie and Miguel arrive, I've mopped the blood and other kinds of muck from my face, along with searched the apartment for some new clothes. In one of the rooms, I find an easel with a freshly painted canvas propped upon it, which for once, doesn't bring tears of longing to my eyes anymore. Instead, I wish for it to be gone. I'm done with these sickening reminders. After rifling through the closet of said bedroom, I find a fresh pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt, both luckily in my size.
Because these are Valeesha's. Her jeans, her shirt. I'm wearing the clothes of a dead woman.
The thought unsettles me more than I would like to admit.
I now stare at myself in the mirror of her bedroom, while situated on the very sheets she slept on each night.
But now she's dead. And maybe I am, too. Death doesn't always mean the lack of a beating heart. It can be a lack of meaning, too.
Dull eyes stare back at me. The half moons under my eyes reflect my exhaustion. But I don't mind. For once, I'm not putting on a show. Not pretending I'm someone I'm not, not pretending I'm some almighty, confident saviour to look up to. For once, I'm a troubled teenage girl. And by god, is it refreshing.
"Hey." A sudden weight on the mattress beside me causes it to dip slightly.
"Hey back." My eyes don't leave the mirror, watching the reflection so intently. Engraving it in my mind.
"We don't need to talk about it." A warm hand caresses my back through my shirt. No, not my shirt. Her shirt.
"I don't even know where I would start. Hobie, I killed a man. I killed a man after watching my sister die by his very hands. How does someone come back from that?" The shake in my voice shows that I'm still a pathetic little girl. No, I'm not sitting here sobbing over my sister's death. But I'm not strong, either. I'm not bringing her justice. I'm not doing anything, really. Is that weird? Is it weird that I can sit here and talk about it like its not fucking horrifying?
"Honestly?" He sighs, clearly indecisive on how he should answer me. The hand on my back makes its way up to my shoulder, to then slide down my arm, pressing firm around my hand once it finishes its descent. "I don't know if you can. But I've seen shit. I've seen horrifying shit. Shit you don't think is possible to overcome. But I'm here. And so are you. That's what matters."
"Is it ok to maybe never feel ok again?"
He gives my hand a squeeze, his callouses against mine. "Sometimes, its gotta be."
"Maybe..." I let out a breath, finally turning to look at him. The sorrow in his eyes burns through me, just like the bleach had burned red raw over my skin. "Maybe I'm ok with that."
"That's my girl."
~
By the time I re-enter the living room to see Miguel, any bodies had been removed. But the harsh blood stain drying in the carpet was a grueling reminder of the horrors that had occurred today.
"Miguel." I address him with no more than his name, utterly fucking exhausted. Getting up and trudging the 10 metres into the lounge room had somehow taken so much from me. How was I supposed to get to Miguel's dimension without withering away?
"l/n. Everything has been... Taken care of. We will debrief in my office." He looks me up and down, taking in the blood on my chucks, the sheen of anxious sweat crowding my brow.
Gaze softening, he offers me a slight smile as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "All will be well. Leave it all to me. I've got you."
Those supportive words would have been my downfall if it were not for the boy standing at my side, our intertwined fingers hidden behind my back.
I clear my throat, my voice surprisingly strong as I speak. "Let's get out of here."
A slight dip of his head signals that he agrees, as he holds out his non-dominant wrist, clicking a few buttons on the watch's screen. As a fresh portal appears, I swallow back the lump forming in my throat.
~
"So..."
"So?" No one in the room misses the edge to my voice.
"So, there was a... glitch, you could say."
"A glitch? That's your amazing explanation to all this?" I throw up my hands in defeat, startling Hobie who had just been tracing stars over my back with his fingertip. He takes a step back, giving me room to rain hell upon whoever I please.
"No. y/n, I-"
"No? Jesus, man." I cut him off immediately, absolutely livid. "Fucking enlighten me, then. I'm all ears."
Miguel looks at me - no, assesses me - his confliction evident in his weary eyes. The bags beneath them hang low and dark, making him appear more human.
"I know this is tough. I know you are hurt, and probably exhausted. But you need to sit down, take a breath, and let me talk." He says after the brief pause in conversation. "Just back it up, ok?"
A shaky breath leaves my lips. "Yeah, ok. Sorry."
After stepping through the gateway, we had materialised straight into Miguel's office, or should I say lair at this point, and frankly, just stood there for a fat minute. Eventually, I had turned to Miguel, looking for answers. Of course, Hobie flanked my side, silently tracing patterns over my back in an attempt to ground me.
"So take a seat for me, yeah?" As soon as the suggestion leaves Miguel's lips, Hobie has already pulled up a plush wheelie chair for me to rot in.
I do as he says, dropping my weight into the leather office chair, a tired sigh leaving me as my body hits the chair back. "Damn, I feel like a deflating balloon."
"I know sugar, its been a hell of a day, I don't blame ya." He whispers into my hair, breath hot on my scalp. "We just gotta get through this, then we can go home, draw a bath or somethin'."
I don't miss the grimace that shudders through Miguel as he watches the interaction between the two of us, but at this point, I could not give less of a fuck of what he thought right now.
Right now, I just wanna be allowed to be vulnerable without having to feel bad about it.
I swallow back the lump forming in my throat. "A glitch, you say?"
"Yes. While Hobie's watch sent him to my dimension, it sent you to... Whatever dimension you were just in." He grimaces for a different reason this time, clearly conflicted on how to go about the situation. "We don't know whether it was his watch, or..."
Miguel trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished.
"...Or whether I'm the glitch. I know the drill by now, no need to sugarcoat it." The words came out with zero malice, much to Miguel's surprise, though he recovered quickly.
"Not exactly, but yes, kind of." He winces, clearly uncomfortable with his choice of wording.
A heart is traced over my nape. "Where do we go from here?" Hobie finally breaks his temporary silence.
Miguel's large hands go up to rub tired eyes. "Since its unclear whether the liability is the watch or not, you will be unable to travel with it from now on."
Hobie's face falls. "Meaning..."
"Yes, meaning you will have to stick to your own dimension until your watch is checked for faults." Miguel clocks the devastation evident in Hobie's expression. "I'm aware that this isn't the most ideal situation, but its the safest route we have right now."
"Fuck, I hate bein' sensible." He grumbles under his breath, or more so, into the shell of my ear.
"Afraid it will cramp your style, Brown?"
Even though I'm not looking at him, I know he's smiling, feeling his lips curl against my ear. "Precisely."
"This also means a new arrangement. Its clear that no matter where she is, y/n is bound to run into trouble. Meaning, she is free to remain in her dimension if she wishes."
His words make me snap back to attention. "Really?"
"Yes, rea-"
"No. Why not stay wit' me still? She's safer with someone to watch over her." Hobie's voice cuts through Miguel's sentence so suddenly.
"I mean, she can stay with you if she wants, but not for too much longer, or she will be recognised as an anomaly. You have..." Miguel trails off as he looks down at his watch. "Maximum a day."
"Then she will stay with me for that day." His tone is hard; commanding. Hot.
No, get your head out the gutter, you sicko.
"Ok." I say simply.
As soon as I speak, his face softens, assessing me with such care. "Will you be ok when you go back? Surely Miggy can arrange for someone to stay with you if I can't anymo-"
I place my hand on his bicep, and his sentence cuts off, eyes snapping to stare at the simple gesture. "I will be fine. No need for a bodyguard."
"That's settled then." Miguel laces his fingers together, before stretching his arms in front of him, pressing his hands palms out. The sounds of his knuckles cracking cuts through my senses, hitting me in the chest like gunshots. Gunshots.
He notices my unease immediately. "Sorry. I kind of forgot about that."
Its one of the only times I have seen the mighty Miguel uncomfortable.
"y/n can turn into a spider." Hobie randomly blurts, biting his lip in anticipation while awaiting Miguel's reaction.
"She- what?"
"I grew legs out my back, and fangs. That's why I keep popping out those sick-ass veins. Scary, but sick nonetheless." I scratch at the steri-strips on my back.
Hobie tuts like a mother hen, his hand slipping beneath my shirt to lay his palm flat over my healing wound so I am unable to get to it. Something stirs low in my stomach at the gesture. "Don't touch 'em."
Miguel looks like he would rather swallow molten lava than watch any display of affection between the two of us. "Theories on to why that would be?"
"The genetic mutation, I guess? But I'm unsure what would trigger it... It only happens when I jump dimensions." I mull over the variables. "I hope its not uncontrollable."
"These things," Miguel turns his large ass dorito looking back to us while speaking, "can be... Confined."
"Confined? What are you gonna do, lock me up and test on me?" I raise a brow at the large expanse of his back, even though I know he can't see my expression. "Its a no from me, babe."
"I mean that if we test it out - and by that I do not mean take blood samples, if that is what your thinking of - we can possibly train you to rein it in, or better, unleash it on command."
I'm weary for what those kind of tests would entail. Probs a lot of pain. "...Right."
He sees me as no more than a weapon. Something to utilise at his disposal.
"In the mean time, dimension jump only with someone with you."
Hobie nudges me with his bony ass elbow. "Can't have ya going apeshit on us alone, hey?"
I yelp at his jab to my ribs. Because I'm petty, I push him back. "Shut yo scarecrow looking ass up."
He bats his annoyingly full eyelashes at me. "That's not how you speak to your pookie-kins." His cockney accent only makes his words sound more deranged, and I get the sudden urge to run him over with a steam roller.
"Stop batting your eyelashes at me. Pav looks like a disney princess when he does it, you just look like you are losing the battle against a really bad case of pink eye."
He stops, letting his clasped hands drop down to his lap. "Damn, ouch."
"Bruised your big ass ego that easily, Brown? Grow a pair." I snort.
"Why are you so mean to me today?" He grumbles, mumbling obscenities under his breath that my Ma would whoop his ass for if she heard them.
"Stop bickering like children. Take her home, we regroup tomorrow." Miguel sneers in disgust at our petty bickering, finally deciding to face us once again.
I raise a brow at him before poking Hobie in the ribs. "Off we trot, piss baby."
He shrugs his shoulders, then winks at me. "Hey, at least you called me baby."
"Why do I even put up with you at this point?"
"Because you loveeeeee meeeeee." He drags out the vowels, pumping his eyebrows up and down like the actual cocknut he is.
"You sure I can't leave this poor excuse of a man behind?" I groan in Miguel's direction.
He looks very displeased. "God, no. Take him with you before I go insane."
For fuck's sake, put me out of my misery, I groan internally, all while having a grin plastered on my face.
Hey, at least I'm feeling better. I would take this cunt's fuckery over the absolute mindfuck that was the past few hours any day.
~
Hobie POV:
I don't ever think I've seen her eyes that lifeless. Yeah, when she had those men chasing her which made her have a panic attack was pretty fucking bad but... Nothing compares to this.
As we walk through HQ, I feel like I'm escorting a cicada husk; she's emotionless, the epitome of stoic. While she shows no sign of hardship or sadness, I find myself worrying even more.
It's not healthy to be able to put up with this much devastation in such a small span of time. Oddly enough, I would prefer her to be curled up into a ball sobbing into her knees - at least then I know she feels comfortable enough to express herself freely. I know for a fact that she feels the constant need to put up a brave front for onlookers, because I have the exact same obligation, which breaks my heart into smithereens. I wish she allowed herself to be vulnerable.
y/n suddenly speaking to me cuts through my thoughts. "Why are you staring at me?"
"I- Huh?" Her eyes assess my expression, trying to read my intentions. "No reason."
She purses her lips, clearly displeased with my answer. A wrinkle of annoyance forms between furrowed brows, making her look like a puppy trying to be scary. Its endearing, to say the least. I'm hit with the sudden urge to kiss her; to finish what was started in that bathroom.
Shut the fuck up, brain, I internally scold myself, she's had a rough ass day, and all you can think about is how cute she is. What an asshole.
"You're still staring." This time I was aware of my scrutinisation, utterly enraptured by her.
At last I look away, tucking my hands into the pockets of my worn out jeans. "What can I say, I just can't help myself. You're cute when you're mad." (what can i sayyyyy what can i sayyyy *does the thing with my hands while being pray pray my pookeh* [someone please get my reference])
While the glare she gives me could melt ice caps, I can tell the tension in her shoulders is easing, even if just a smidge.
Atta girl.
~
A/N:
soz guys I know this chap is probs confusing and like everything thats happened in the past few chapters might make you want to blow your brains out HAHAHAHA
BUT i will answer any questions you have in the comments if they do not spoil the story or plotline in any way
broooo this is the longest chapter on this story so far, the highest word count before was like 2175 and this chap is nearly 4000 wordssssss slay lolol
wait do you guys like longer or shorter chapters
let me know pookies !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!