Collaboration with Asking4AHorizon
Note: I apologise for any spelling errors or repetition. I'm autistic so I do things like this without realising, please excuse the accidents. These mistakes were caused by me, not my partner.
Enjoy xx
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It was cold. The chill crept under Vic's jacket, goosebumps rising on his skin. He sighed, cursing himself for not taking Alex's lift, clenching his arms against his chest to keep himself warm. He stopped walking, then. A noise echoed in the empty street, coming from one of the dumpsters. He turned to look at it, shaking his head and he began walking again.
Just as he made his way down the cobblestone road, he heard it again. The haunting sound resonated through his blood flow, giving the tanned boy an even colder feeling the the weather.
He exhaled, turning again, looking around with paranoid eyes as a frown crawled upon his brows. He gulped, his shaky hands tightening around himself.
"Hello?" he called, his gaze meticulously wandering around, "Is there anybody out there?" He bit his lip, awaiting a response that never came. He sighed, nervously turning around before walking faster.
The adolescent was nearing the end of the road, yet he felt a mist behind him which made his hair stand up.
All in good time, Vic turned around to be met by something he never thought or wished he would see.
His breath hitched, his arms slowly lowered and his whole body shook. He almost choked, but he managed to breath out, "mom?"
It came shakily as his heart sped up even faster. He wished he would have never seen that damned woman again, not after everything. He stepped back slowly, his gaze trapped onto her smirk.
"No, " she said. Vic blinked. There was nothing there.
"Fuck that, I'm out of here." Vic whispered to himself as he started walking backwards quickly.
He exhaled, running down the barely lit street, seeing all the house's lights out. The whole neighborhood was out of power. And he sprinted, knowing that his house was right onto the next block. It was all quiet beside his breathing. Then it wasn't. He heard stuff close to steps running behind him. He turned to look back, his expression scared as shit. There was nothing behind him, it was quiet again. His legs shook, he faced forward. The steps again. He didn't dare to look back this time. The steps were closer, right behind him. He turned his head, something jumped on him. It was black, wide silver diamond blue eyes snarling back at him. A cat.
He was allergic to cats.
Vic shook his head, grabbing onto the feline to prevent it from falling. "So that was you causing all that ruckus, huh?" He questioned while placing the cat gently on the floor before rising to his original short stature.
The cat meowed, pawing gently at Vic's pants. The male's face screwed up, his nose twisting as he tried to hold a sneeze. He pinched his nose, sneezing anyway. He sighed, groaning before he walked home, the cat following him.
Grabbing his keys from his jean pocket, his twisted the front door lock before opening it. The young one was about to close it before he saw the feline.
"No no no, get out of here," Vic whispered, trying to get the cat away, his allergies ready to attack him. The cat kept meowing and pawing at the door before Vic tried to close it. He groaned, opening the door and whining a little as he sneezed, the cat gracefully entering the house. Goddamn him and his love for animals.
When Vic closed the door, he turned around to see the cat perched upon its hind legs, staring at him, head tilted to the left. "Well, it looks like you've made you're staying with me."
He exhaled, going to the fridge, the little kitten following behind. He opened it, searching for something for the animal. He was probably hungry, wasn't he? He saw a box of milk, taking it and leaving at the table. It was less than half full, but it would work. He grabbed a bowl, leaving at the floor and took the milk, putting on it.
He turned to throw it away, for some reason not sneezing like crazy, glancing at the cat when he meowed. He groaned loudly when he saw the milk all over the floor. He grabbed the bowl, seeing it was cracked. He grunted.
"Just what I needed." He muttered to himself. The young one opened the fridge again, picking up two slices of ham before feeding the little thing.
The cat refused, his little paw up to his chest as he backed up some, turning his face away from Vic. The latter frowned, glancing at the tag and seeing that, we'll damn, it was expired. Today just wasn't his day, was it?
"I better go get you something else then." Vic said as he grabbed his house keys. "Unless," thought he. "Wait here." Wow, this has what my life has come to, talking to a kitten.
The lad ran to his front door, swinging it open the shut again before running to his neighbors house for cat biscuits.
He knocked on the door, quietness being all he got. He did it again, waiting for a few minutes before he looked through the window, seeing nothing. He sighed. They weren't home. He turned to look at his own home. The door was wide open, the kitten sitting in the middle of it. Vic frowned. He saw the cat had his head tilted to the side, his little black tail wagging.
Vic ran to his brothers house who lived just down the street. He knocked on the window three times to let Mike know it was only him.
The door opened within seconds. "Boy problems?" Asked the younger siblings.
"Sort of, " Vic tilted his head, face scrunched up. "You got any cat food on you?" He smiled awkwardly.
Mike frowned. "But you're allergic to cats?" Vic nodded, shrugging while mumbling an 'it's complicated'.
'Okay'. Mike mouthed back before opening the door further for his older brother to walk through.
"It's in the cupboard on the bottom shelf." Mike pointed out as he shut the door. "But don't go in the dining room." Called the younger one.
Vic grabbed a single sachet of gourmet before closing the cupboard and walking back towards Mike.
Though, before he rounded the corner, the tanner boy heard whimpering; almost like crying coming from the dining room. The adolescent opened the stained glass door to be met by the familiar face of the man who he swore he'd never want to see again. The man who forced himself on his best friend, Kellin Quinn. That man was named Harry Greenson.
Vic felt paralyzed. His hands shook when he met eyes with that disgusting man, he exhaled slowly, turning his head to gaze into Mike's apologetic stare.
"What the fuck, Mike, " he hummed, his glare getting intense by the passing time, though he tried his best to look composed.
"He just came over."
"And you just let him in?" Vic asked, crossing his arms and completely ignoring Harry, "you just let in the reason that Kellin is dead?" He scoffed. He glanced at Harry, snarling at him and holding himself back from jumping at his throat. He sent a glare to Mike too, going to the front door that was halfway closed, opening it to leave, when he saw the cat hissing at inside the house.
"Same, " he mumbled, closing the door and not daring to look back, "now let's go, little one." He didn't even question anymore.
"Vic!" Mike called from the door causing the older brother to turn back to glance at him. "There's something no one told you, for your safety."
"What?" He barked. He narrowed his eyes when Mike opened his mouth again, before cutting him off, "no, you know what? Screw this. I just really hope that you don't show up at my house crying because that motherfucker," he pointed at Harry, that peeked from the door, wincing with every word, "fucking raped you. Be fucking careful!" He snapped, walking away as the cat softly pushed his head against Vic's leg, jogging behind the man.
Silence filled the atmosphere creating a new tension. "Vic wait!" Called the younger brother.
He didn't turn though, only continued walking.
As Mike knew the only way to get his brother back was to finally tell him the truth. "Kellin isn't dead!" Called he. "I don't know where he is but I know someone who does."
Vic stopped. He kept facing forward, the cat meowing and pawing at his pants, as if trying to get his attention. Vic turned his head only. His eyes were flooding with tears.
"Fuck you, Mike," he said softly, "that's not funny." He turned again, jogging to his own home and ignoring his brother's calls.
Once him and the cat were both in the house, his body flopped on beige couch as he silently wept into the matching pillow.
Vic always held a souvenir dear to him. One, a photo of him and Kellin the time they went to an amusement park together. Another, though larger in shape, was Kellin's favorite black hoodie, which Vic kept sacred to him. He never it wore it as he wanted the aroma of vanilla to remain stained on the previous fabric. Although he longed to even feel an ounce of warmth from him.
He bit his lip. He never stopped missing Kellin, never stopped longing for him, not even now. Mike bringing it up and saying it was beyond hurtful, seeing Harry too. He sighed to himself, taking the hoodie and gazing at it. He didn't pay attention, but the cat sat near the door, watching Vic with a tilted head. The man brought the coat to his nose, inhaling deep. He didn't care that it was weird, he really didn't; he just wanted to stop hurting.
But it didn't. Vic teared up. He cried silently, staring into nothing.
That's when the thought crossed his mind.
What if Kellin was still alive? What if Mike was telling the truth?
With all these thoughts buzzing around his head at 1000mph, Vic knew he had to do something.
The boy grabbed his phone, noting the lock screen, a black and white photo of Kellin before his photo shoot for Time Magazine. Vic dialed Chris' number, placing it to his ear as the phone rang.
"Hey, Vic, you okay?" Chris mumbled. It was past ten, and he was already asleep. That man could sleep as much as a koala.
"No. I can't stop thinking, " Vic sobbed back. Chris woke up fully with worry.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Just... Mike told me something and it's had to believe but... What if, y'know?" Vic sighed. He let his head fall back on the wall, watching as the kitten slowly made his way to his feet just to jump on his lap.
"I understand." Chris started. "Stay where you are, I'm coming."
"Yeah... Okay. I'll wait." He hung up, dropping his phone. The cat snuggled his nose on Vic's chest, lying his head there with his body on Vic's lap. The kitten was fairly big, though slender, his big silver-blue eyes gazing at Vic. The man smiled sorrowfully, "Kellin used to do that, you know? Cuddle me whenever I felt sad." He whispered, not even caring that he was talking to, well, a fucking cat. "I miss having him holding me."
He closed his eyes, caressing the cat's fur, letting himself fall deeper inside his head. He was tired, drained.
With all in good time, Vic fell into the land of nod, as his little companion snuggled into his chest.