Chapter 17: The Rest is Rust and Stardust
WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER
~"'She still believes in the innate goodness of humans,' he says. 'And that I believe, is what makes her quite so easy to love.'" ~unknown
Scarlett had a hard time breathing when the body was finally cut down from the tree. She was shaking all over too. As the thin figure finally smacked against the ground, the head of it cracking against the roots of the maple tree, Scarlett truly start freaking out. She knew that bald head, that hooked nose, and that tall skeleton frame from anywhere. And when Bruce shined the flashlight on the older man's face, revealing a head snapped at an odd angle, Scarlett had the overwhelming urge to puke. She knew, she knew something was wrong with Archer. And yet she did nothing.
He didn't have anyone to help him when he felt most alone. Unlike her, when she had Charlie there for her, he had no one. He died thinking he was by himself in the world. That thought alone made her eyes collect a watery film over them.
"He committed suicide, no discussion needed," Alex plainly said from beside them, wrapping her arms around herself. Her robe didn't offer much protection against the night's cold. Scarlett didn't bother looking at the women, only feeling more distraught at her words.
"But why would he?" Nia quietly asked. Nina was still in bed, the scene was deemed to graphic for her to witness. It was almost too graphic for Scarlett to witness. But what happened couldn't be unseen.
"Maybe someone murdered him," Irene interrupted the conversation from her position a few feet away. Scarlett glanced up at her voice and met her eyes.
"Now why would you say that?" Alex said back, her tone none too friendly towards the woman.
"I told you guys that I saw him talking to himself," Scarlett sighed, her voice almost as sad as she looked with her glassy eyes and sagged shoulders, "He obviously needed help, someone to talk to."
"I think what we should be focusing on how we are disappearing. Two acts gone in one year." Felicity brought up, "They're gonna' have to paint over his icon on the side of the caravans and get rid of his poster. The freaks' car is almost empty now." Scarlett's heart clenched painfully, remembering Bonnie.
"Here's the ladder he used to get up the tree," Charlie suddenly walked up to them, holding up a wooden ladder, "found it on the other side."
Scarlett could barely look at it. She was starting to get nauseous. It wasn't like she was going to mourn Archer, but she still felt sick to her stomach. She thought about how someone just died in front of her...just like that, within one second and a blink of an eye, and to know that she could have stopped it. To know that she almost forced Charlie to experience that when she had broken the mirror in her bathroom months ago didn't help her guilt.
She blinked rapidly when a familiar calloused hand wrapped around her wrist, dragging her out of her thoughts. Scarlett hadn't even noticed she had been scratching at her scarred wrist. Looking up from the reddened skin, she whispered to Charlie, "Sorry."
He could tell she was getting overwhelmed when she would start up that habit, able to read her like a book these days. "Shh, it's ok, don't worry about this anymore Letty'," his hand was on her back, "there was nothing we could've done."
Scarlett remained quiet. She only bit on her lip and let him guide her away, his arm wrapped around her as he excused her from the scene, "I think she's tired, I'll be back in ten minutes."
He walked her back to her caravan. Lowering her hand, Scarlett wrapped her whole hand around his. The simple action somehow managed to melt the background away. It was only him and her.
"It isn't so much that I miss Archer or feel bad that he died," she started, feeling the need to elaborate on her slight relapse back there.
"-You don't need to explain yourself Letty'. You got overwhelmed. There's no shame in it. My job is just to make you feel happy again." Charlie gave her a soft smile. It was probably the most gentlest and pure thing she had ever seen, and she felt overwhelmed...but by love for him.
A smile bloomed on her face, and Scarlett let out a twinkle of a laugh, one that crackled. He hugged her in return. She hugged back tighter. There was millions of ways to say I love you, and she understood that this was one. That and in the way he said her name so differently from everyone else's.
Backing up from him, "Thanks, but let me explain cause you'll never know if I don't do it now." Charlie didn't say anything, only giving her his attention with an encouraging nod.
"I-I just feel bad that someone died. Right in front of me. It doesn't even have to happen right in front of me, but it happened," Scarlett tried to express, "How do people get used to that? Like how do murderers kill, knowing that they took a life? They might have been a bad person but they still were a somebody that died. A person just like them."
Charlie didn't seem to have words. Or an answer. Suddenly quiet, he shrugged.
Scarlett kissed his cheek after that, whispered a small 'goodnight', and went to bed. In the morning, he waited for her outside and walked with her hand in hand to the funeral site. Arriving to the large group making up a circle, right in front of the lots' lake, Scarlett immediately noticed the difference compared to Bonnie's funeral. No one was dressed up, making her the only one dressed in black. There was no hole in the ground for his body either.
"Hi," Scarlett greeted softly as she walked up beside Irene. She looked down at what everyone was gathered around. Archer's tall frame laid there, a blanket wrapped around his limp form, hardly covering his face.
"Wha-, why is there no ditch?" she tugged on Charlie's hand, "What's happening?"
"Axel didn't tell us to make one," he murmured back.
"But-"
Irene cut her off from beside her, under her breath, "He's not going to be buried."
Before Scarlett could ask, baffled, Axel entered the ring of people, taking his place in front. He stood on the cinderblock placed on the floor, to get above everyone's heads. He wasn't dressed formally either, only wearing the black trench coat he always dragged around. Flickering his amber eyes around the group, stopping momentarily on every face, he took a pause to take out a pocket Bible from his coat. Scarlett eyed him as he flipped to a bookmarked page in it. The thought of Axel being religious still remained humorous to her.
"As we all should know, the Bible views suicide equal to murder- it is a self-murder. God is the only one who decides when and how we should die. We steal God's right by killing ones self. It defiles the name of God and it should not be honored. Psalm 31:15, 'My times are in your hands,'" Axel spoke loudly with a certain type of menace in his words, not even bothering to glance down at the book in his hands despite bringing it out, "The taking of one's life is thus ungodly because in itself it means the rejection of God's gift of life."
The man abruptly snapped his eyes in her direction. Scarlett felt all the air in her chest disappear when the orange of his eyes met hers. It was as if he was talking directly to her. Flashbacks of yesterday night, after dinner, when he recited strange verses about lying to her, all came rushing back. They burned under her eyelids. Scarlett couldn't help but feel her eyes get red again with unshed tears.
"It's a shame since Archer is one of our own. He has been with us since Nina was born," Axel made a show of sighing, "but I will not condone his actions. He attacked God and therefore attacks me. This is why he shall not be buried as one of us, since he is no longer one of us." Promptly after finishing, he spit on Archer.
Then Bruce did it. After that, Ebony did it. Following with Gertrude, Birdie, and Allie. All the way till it looped around the circle, everyone forced to spit on the dead man. But when it got to Scarlett's turn, there was a break. Her eyes burned into Archer. No matter how hard she tried, she just could not bring herself to spit on him. Archer could've easily been her.
"Scarlett." Axel said. The simple act of him saying her name sent a wave of bile to come up her throat. She forced it down, feeling everyone's eyes on her. Charlie squeezed her hand. She knew he was trying to urge her to do it. To just get it over with and to forget about it. To do it for him.
And she would've but it didn't feel right.
"What if he was murdered?" her voice felt so small.
"Scarlett!" Irene and Charlie basically hissed from next to her. Everyone was yelling at her, verbally and nonverbally as she glanced at Nia, Alexandra, and Felicity shaking their heads toward her. It was too many people telling her what to do.
Feeling Charlie's hand around her tighten even more, Scarlett shrugged him off and made her stand. She straightened up and decided to look directly at Axel. The choice was not fruitful for her as she instantly felt all the confidence evaporate, seeing he was no longer a couple feet away on a cinderblock but instead right in front of her.
"Now why do you say that?" he almost exactly mimicked Alexandra's question from last night when Irene brought the idea up. Scarlett shivered. It was strange how his body radiated the cold instead of heat.
"B-because of uh," Scarlett cleared her throat, "Because we can't just assume. And even if he did kill himself, it is our fault, not his, for not being there for him. We shouldn't be spitting on him." Time stilled for a moment, the Earth stopped spinning on its axis, like the whole world was waiting for his reaction.
And he did the most unexpected thing: he laughed. He laughed so much that she could see tears begin to form and redness enter his normally pale cheeks. Scarlett had forgotten that he was actually human. In her mind, he was always more of an alien, some bloodthirsty creature. Nevertheless, it was strange for her to see such a reaction elicited from him, by her.
"You're a funny girl," Axel grinned once he finished, bending down in one quick swoop to kiss her cheek. Scarlett recoiled with a loud strangled sound. She could see Charlie sharply shift from beside her. "And who would you say murdered him then if that was the case?"
Wiping away the itching and burning feeling of his lips on her cheek, Scarlett stared up at him with defiance. She didn't know where the burning anger came from, but she thought nothing about what she said to him was the slightest bit funny. Did she dare say what she craved to?
"You."
He only smiled more, and in a gentle tone, "If I was to murder him, I wouldn't have done it like that." Axel backed away from her and walked towards the cinderblock he was previously standing on.
Heaving it up, "I would've done it like this." Slam.
Axel had dropped the block straight on top of Archer's head. The sound itself caused her to scream, and she wasn't the only one. The feeling of blood and brains hitting the side of her ankles made her sob. The cracking of the skull was almost equally as bad.
Slam. The second time Axel brought the block onto the man's head only made her tremble and grip onto the side of Charlie's white shirt, which she realized soon after was bloodied from some of the spray. She heard Nina's childish shriek, crying too.
Slam. The third time was the worst because the banging sound followed with the equally loud squish of the block sinking into Archer's brain matter. The world seemed to spin at the sight of so much horror.
Scarlett tuned out reality after that. Her eyes all over the place, her hearing muted with an unusual ringing and the repeating noise of the cinderblock making impact. She could hear through it, however, the large splash of the men throwing Archer's tall body in the lake. Even after that with the hose that was supposed to wash away all the evidence of what had just unfolded.
The only thing that calmed her down was the thing she loved most in that moment. He guided her back to her caravan, sat her down on her bed. Irene had followed after them, going to the bathroom and returning with a cloth. She gave it to Charlie and wordlessly went back to the bathroom to shower. He wiped all the blood off of Scarlett- the blood on her ankles, knees, her hands, and the blood on himself as well.
Only when he placed the red cloth on the nightstand, did Scarlett start to return to herself. She returned with rapid breathing and a cry. "Oh god, it was my fault," she tugged at her golden hair, "he wouldn't have done that if I hadn't said anything. Oh god, oh god."
"Scarlett, no, shh," Charlie was quick to comfort her, "He's just...crazy." His words were hesitant but they came out of his mouth nevertheless. Scarlett blinked water out of her eyes to look at him clearly. Her hand stretched out to caress his cheek and down his jaw. It took a lot for him to say that about his father, but he finally said it. His father was not a good person, and calling him crazy was the closest he can admit to the truth.
"Everything's getting bad again," she whimpered, rubbing at her eyes with her other hand.
"No don't say that, Letty'-"
"Why didn't they try harder!" Scarlett abruptly blurted out in anger. Her hand lashed out as well to hit his shoulder. "Why did they give up on me?? My family. Why aren't I with them? I hate this. I hate this feeling."
"Scarlett."
"This makes me want to die all over again." Her voice was getting loud. The water in the shower was shut off.
"Scarlett." Charlie was trying to stop the panic.
"But if I did, he'd probably just smash my head in too-"
"Scarlett stop!" His hands held her flailing arms down and he wrapped them around her body, to draw him into his chest.
"Calm down Scarlett," he kissed the top of her head, "I love you." Scarlett was still shivering underneath his arms, her chest heaving in shallow breaths, but she stopped fighting him.
Irene stepped out of the shower, her hair damp and wearing another dress. She eyed Charlie and his hold around Scarlett for a moment, unspoken words passing between them, before she walked out the door. Irene had gotten used to him being in their room, despite that, it didn't mean that she trusted him all the time with her. This time though she did.
"How can you deal with me," Scarlett gave out a humorless laugh.
"I love you on days where you can't seem to love yourself," he said to her, "and I won't love you any less on days where you're full of yourself. I can deal with you any day of the year."
"So you actually love me?" her tone sounded surprised.
Charlie laughed and bent down to kiss at the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, the special spot, in which Scarlett began to squirm. She shoved his face away, giggling. "I love the person you were, you are, and the one you're yet to be."
"They say we're too young for love, you know." Scarlett mumbled as she picked at the fabric of his shirt.
"I'm glad," he slightly chuckled, "I've seen marriages fall apart. Looking at each other as if it's uncomfortable. Laying in bed with their backs turned to each other. The wife turning to alcohol. Having the mother teach their son how to shave instead of the father because he's gone half the time."
Charlie let out a shaky breath, "If that's love, I'm glad we are the opposite."
She leaned back and gave a long look at him. He gave an equally long look at her.
Scarlett gave him a tender smile, "Why did this take so long, for us?"
"I figured you'd look at me how I look at myself maybe," he paused, "but you're still here, and I don't think I can imagine a world where I am not in love with you."
Scarlett snorted, "You're cheesy."
"Well I'm a writer babe."
With a smile, she teased, "See, this isn't going to be a sad story."
***
They didn't make love until a week later, once the hysteria from the day of Archer's funeral had started to die down. It was after a nice, peaceful day spent lounging around as if it was lazy afternoon on Sunday.
Scarlett was busy transferring Nina's heart-shaped face from the paper she had done last week to an actual canvas. It was difficult to do but she didn't get bored. Charlie was laying on his bed, his feet hanging off the end. He was busy too, reading a book. She whistled along with the song playing on the radio. It was Elvis.
"Have you started your book?" she curiously spoke up while keeping her eyes focused on the canvas.
"I already finished the first chapter," Charlie answered, flipping to the next page of his book.
"Is writing easy?" Scarlett put down her canvas and crawled over to prop her head on his bed.
"Yeah, I guess. It's kinda' like painting in your head," he murmured, "isn't it?"
"Yeah, yeah it is," she casted her eyes back to the nearly finished picture of the little girl. Shifting her head, Scarlett peered up at him. Her eyes traced the outline of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the twitch of his eyebrows, every part.
She had the strangest feeling that this won't last long. It was happiness at first, but then fear for what she had to lose now. Did she want to end up like Gertrude? Be that broken?
"You don't think what happened to your parents will happen to us, do you?" her voice was deathly quiet. Hesitant. Charlie brought his eyes up to her. They looked shockingly vulnerable by the question but hardened seeing the distraught on her face.
He put his book down, and shifted closer to her, his hand going to push back the hair from her face. "No, what happened to them was my fault. My sister dying caused it. It made Axel tip over the edge. My fault," he paused for a moment, swallowing, as if trying to convince himself, "Nothing's going to happen to us, Letty'."
Scarlett felt bad for making him relive everything, but she needed security. She wiped her eyes with sleeve of her sweater, "Still, what if we change? What if we don't like who the other has become?"
He smiled softly bringing her into his arms. "I'd still love you. I told you this. Who you are now or whoever you are in ten years doesn't change a single thing."
"Do you think we'll still be here in ten years then?"
"Well...I don't know," Charlie mumbled, "I hope we will be somewhere better at least." Scarlett nodded, her eyes distant.
The idea of being at the show in ten years was scary. She didn't want to be there still. But the idea of being without him in ten years was even scarier. This was the first time that she's ever connected to someone in such a way, with such understanding and knowing each other so intimately. Most people dream of finding what she had. And she felt torn...because she knew in the end Charlie belonged there.
"You okay?" he asked, softly. It was just an example of how he knew her like the back of his hand.
"I wanna' kiss you right now," she said, quickly. Scarlett inched over, to straddle his lap. He kissed her softly- then all at once feverishly, his hand gently grasping the back of her neck. She couldn't help but moan against his lips, feeling the intensity behind his kiss. As they break apart, both panting softly, Charlie mumbled, "You're so beautiful."
He brought his hand up to brush his knuckles over her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, connecting with his, noting the sincerity in this gaze. It startled her and she was forced to look back down. "Look at me," he demanded. She looked.
"I love you," he murmured. Scarlett shivered, feeling his love surround her like a warm hug and she reveled in it.
Wordlessly, she laid back on the bed, allowing him to press open-mouthed kisses to the soft flesh of her inner thighs. He peeled off her shirt like it was his gift and slid her shorts and panties off as if they were as delicate as paper. Slowly, gently, and all at once. And when she stood in nothing but heated skin, he kissed his way up her knees, up her thighs, past her pussy, onto the line of scars on her wrist- until he was standing and could kiss her on her mouth. Her hands went to the back of his head and gripped his hair tightly, eyes sliding shut again.
"Just love me," she uttered breathlessly. He let out a harsh breath, the look of uncertainty in his eyes dissolving when they darkened dangerously. He always second-guessed himself with her- that she should be with someone else, someone better. But there was no one else for her.
Silently, without another word, he threw off his shirt and slipped out of his pants, till he was naked and she felt her mouth go dry. He was beautiful and all hers. The thought of 'mine' made her instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. Scarlett inhaled deeply, breathing in his clean smell of soap, aftershave, and smoke.
Holding herself on her elbows, she parted her legs and watched as he palmed his erection. His chest heaved with every deep he took, stroking himself from base to tip. "Touch yourself, put your fingers in your pussy," he directed, his voice hoarse, "I want to watch." Scarlett didn't know that she could get anymore turned on than she already was until he begged her in that needy way. God, she was so wet. It was all because of him: his rough voice, his body, his pure need- no longer a want- for her.
With two fingers, she spread her pussy, never tearing her eyes from his. Biting her bottom lip, she rubbed her clit and pleasure flooded her lower region. Warmth. Fire. And love. "Finish yourself off," he whispered, eyes dragging up to her face. "Be a good girl, and finger your pussy so I can watch."
She squirmed under Charlie's heated gaze and yet her fingers rubbed harder, faster, till she slide two fingers inside herself. The fact that she was doing this as he watched, stroking himself, it was strange and she became incapable of doing anything except let out a low shaky breath. Charlie leaned back, clearing his throat, training his eyes between her legs.
Soon, she was just desperate for release. She decided she wasn't going to be slow. She needed to get off as soon as possible, not being able to take it anymore, and her fingers rubbed quick, tight circles on her clit, as she tried to keep her body still. "Oh, God, you really fuckin' want it, huh?" he asked, his voice deep, "Stop now."
Scarlett's movements stilled, breathless and unfulfilled. Taking her hand in his, he brought her wet fingers to his mouth and sucked on them. His eyes closed as he took the arousal clean off her fingers, distracting her from the fact that his other hand was on her pussy. When suddenly, she felt Charlie's fingers push back inside her, "Oh, my God."
Her eyelids fluttering open, her back arching high in the air, she gasped out, "Charlie." His fingers were thicker, rougher, and she pushed back against them when he curled his fingers up inside of her. Releasing her fingers from his mouth, he sent her a dimpled smile that made her clench impossibly around him.
"Fuck, fuck," she moaned, her abdomen tight with coming release, "Close."
"Fuck, you're so goddamn sexy," he whispered, slipping his fingers from her. His eyes shot up to hers before abruptly pulling her down on him. They both inhaled loudly at the feeling of him totally filling her with his cock. Scarlett's hands leapt to his shoulder. She felt totally joined with him.
She moved first, grinding against him and making him groan. His hands went to her backside and he moved her- back and forth, back and forth slowly. Till slow wasn't good enough and he had to push into her deeper, desperate and feverish, in which she rocked against him to meet his thrusts. "Oh, fuck, Letty'," he breathed, dropping his head forward so their foreheads met, his brown eyes probably reflected the same awe she had, "It's always fucking perfect with you."
Scarlett moaned in response, hearing how desperate and vulnerable Charlie's voice sounded. "God, that is such a sexy sound," he spoke, driving his hips into her even faster. And when his mouth closed over one of her nipples, she threw her head back and cried his name. He sucked on her nipple until she begged for him to stop, and he did- only to move to the other breast. Her hands instantly went into his messy hair, raking it into a tight grip and pulling till he swore her name.
"Beg for it," he demanded. His voice was urgent, but began to sound more dominant, and she wasn't complaining.
"Please, Charlie, fuck me harder," the girl pleaded, her voice strained. She was desperately trying to feel him as much as she could. Her movements became choppier as she got closer. "I need you to fuck me and make me-ohh!" She barely managed to get the words out, faltering, before her entire body seized and came hard.
Charlie had stopped moving just to watch her. To admire how she fell apart around him. She dropped her head onto the pillow, breathless and sweaty, and she breathed out, "I love you so goddamn much, ok?"
A shift in the air at that defined what this was. And Charlie was slamming into her with such force that she could feel her hips bruising. With the feeling of Scarlett contracting around him, he was pushed over the edge. "Fuck, baby!" he groaned out, riding out his orgasm.
"Oh, my God," he mumbled, laying his head on her chest, "That felt like the first time." The two regained their composure slowly, him pulling out and leaving her astonishingly empty, and the smell of sex still thick in the air. And Scarlett was laughing for no apparent reason. She just felt so lucky.
Flipping him over, Scarlett pushed him down to lay on his chest, drawing circles onto his skin. He chuckled and heaven opened up. It seemed like God was letting her have this one last gift before tearing happiness away from her completely.
***
The next day, Scarlett would define- if she still had the chance- as the day that her world fell apart for good. It started off normal. She went to breakfast like normal with Charlie pressing his mouth to that special spot on her neck and her giggling. She got to work on her canvas of Nina in the afternoon. Then they went to the lion cages. She got the chance to watch Charlie feed them big blocks of meat, which she cringed at and he chuckled at, and she got to see him prep them for the opening of the show in a couple weeks. And all at once...it all stopped.
As she walked out of the lion cage, she saw him.
He was being dragged across the field into the center of the clearing of caravans, put on display. Chains were locked around his legs and handcuffs latched onto his hands; they cut into his skin, bloodying the area and rubbing it raw as if he had pulled at them for a long time. The skin around the chains were flayed and shredded. He walked towards them- more like stumbled as if his legs hadn't walked in years.
It took her a minute, her mind registering familiarity. Before her brain connected the dots, she made out the picture of his face. His blonde hair was greasy, the mop of blonde looked depressed. Bruises discolored his face in large blue and black splotches, and half of his normally handsome face was swollen. His frame was smaller and his body thinner, like he had been deprived of nutrients or affection. He looked like hell. Like he had been in hell. Four letters. One word, one name actually.
Noah.
Before she could tell what was happening, a loud whimper came out of her throat and she was sprinting towards him on wobbly knees. Half way to him, Scarlett noticed who was dangling him around like a rag doll: Axel.
He stood there with a look of brewing thunder but with an unnerving smile as per usual. Her knees gave out on her and soon she was hitting the floor, banging her together knees harshly. Why was he here? How was he here? Everything was going wrong. She could only stare at Noah as he sank to the floor when Axel finally gave slack to the chains. His legs were no long strong enough to bear his body's weight. Scarlett suddenly felt as if her legs weren't strong enough for her body either.
"N-Noah?" her voice cracked painfully, staring at him with wide and fragile eyes. It was like twisting a knife in her gut when she saw how Noah could hear her but had no energy to even lift his head.
"It seems like you already know of our little friend here," Axel said in some ominous form of a greeting, "I found him sneaking around on our campus."
Putting his hand in his trench coat, Scarlett held her breath. A silvery thing glittered in his hand when he retrieved it out of his pocket. A cry left her lips once she realized with horror that it was a gun. A real-life gun; in one snap-decision she could be dead, Charlie who was holding her back could be dead, anyone and everyone could be dead. Everything was in the hands of this insane man.
Axel appeared to understand that and made a show of pointing it right at the back of Noah's head, taking sadistic pleasure in her fear, the way her pulse quickened, how everything grew jittery for her. "No, please stop," she yelled.
"He won't answer any of my questions, no matter how hard I punish him. I applaud him for that. Its not easy being locked in a closet and rattled around and beaten for a month. I think this answers your question you had at dinner the other night of why I haven't been around as of late," he slowly took the safety off. Scarlett tried to think of anything she could do to stop this, what she could say, but it felt like there was no option.
She settled lamely with, "Please, please don't hurt him."
"Really? Now this is interesting."
Scarlett let out a high-pitched scream as he loudly shouted, moving forward with a jolt, "Bang!" Axel laughed after, perfectly giddy over the situation. All eyes were on him as the freaks heard the commotion. He loved it, the thrill of an audience. He needed to create a show. Scarlett knew for certain that there was no going back, now that he had a chance to instill his control in front of everyone.
Axel tsked her. "Now, now Scarlett, my sweet girl, if you want me to keep him alive.," he pushed the gun further into Noah's blonde scalp, "You're going to have to beg for it."
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a/n: this was edited really poorly when i tried to transfer it from word to wattpad, so idk if there's missing parts, bear with me lol