Here's a slice of how I write!
Ship: Knellis (Nick x Keith x Ellis)
Title taken from Achilles, Come Down by Gang of Youths
Trigger warnings for angst, past abuse, (semi-) depiction of mental illness & a panic attack, and major character death (Sort of)
~~~
Nick's head throbbed. Before he'd even opened his eyes, his skull pulsed, swimming in anguish. The rest of his body followed suit, aching and hurting in the way it had only ever done during the apocalypse. He really didn't want to think about that.
Nick opened his eyes. He squinted at the bright daylight pouring in, blinking away the strain. He was facing the ceiling of him and his partner's bedroom. Instantly, Nick was aware that he was laying on the bed upside down, based on how he could feel the pillows under his feet. Nick tried to sit up and failed, muscles screaming from the mere attempt at exertion.
He rolled his head right, finding it pliant. Nothing but the bookshelf greeted him. He shifted his head back to look behind him. Evangeline's off-white crib sat in its place near the door to his left, a tiny quilt made by Ellis' mother sat along the drop rail. A wiggling bundle visible between the bars indicated Evangeline's safety.
A high-pitched squeal, gurgling and hissing, broke the silence of the room and Nick tensed. His eyes shot to the right corner of the room. A spitter, with its stretched neck and pigeon-toed stance, faced away from him, examining the dresser. His stomach involuntarily heaved as he looked upon its greyed, bloodied, deformed backside. Nick threw his head to the left, opening his mouth to call for Keith or Ellis, or anyone.
Nothing came out. It wouldn't have, even if he wasn't in excruciating pain. What his eyes met would've killed any words he could muster.
Acid sizzled, leaking into the hallway from the foyer. A few steps from the start of the hall was one of Ellis' arms, skin and muscle melting into the dark floorboards, exposing white bone to the sunlight. The rest of his corpse was obscured. A gun sat farther still, also melting into the floor. Keith's perfect, long, red locks pooled right in front of the door, the ends crackling away black. The curve of his freckled shoulder sat exposed, untouched by the horrid substance.
Broken and bent in, the saferoom door was open. Guess they weren't so sturdy after all.
Behind him, the spitter hissed again. Nick looked back as it turned around, its gaping maw leaking that cartoonishly green acid. It blinked, staring, before lining itself up, choking out an ugly gurgle and tightening its stomach. He froze, preparing himself for an agonizing death like his partners.
A soft whimper from the crib made his stomach fall to the depths of hell.
He looked at the spitter first. It faced the crib now, ignoring him in favor of the new prey. Nick could almost see it grin.
His breathing picked up, and he tried to rise once more, ignoring the pain. He couldn't. He looked back to the spitter, now making its way to his wailing daughter. Again he tried to rise, and again he failed. Nick finally realized he was being held down.
He faced his captor, vitriol in his blood, rage rising in his face. A witch straddled him, holding down his arms with bony claws, its wiry hair hanging inches from his face. No. Not its. It was hers. His fucking ex-wife's.
Evangeline's wailing muffled into the background.
Her chestnut colored hair danced over his cheeks, uncomfortably white teeth framed by blood red lips snarling at him. Nick stopped. Hundreds of memories of this exact situation slammed his psyche. Her holding him down, or having someone else do it, and him getting beaten black and blue and choked and left bleeding. And every time he'd call someone, or fight back, or do anything but take it quietly, the crocodile tears would come flowing out, convincing anyone and everyone present that she was the victim and that she deserved the apology. And after a month, Nick gave up fighting it, gave up telling others, gave up and took it, placating her all the while because that's all he could do. Because no one believed him.
One of her daintily manicured hands came to his throat, gripping it with as much might as he'd remembered. He looked back up, shaking and crying, and terrified. The spitter stood over Evangeline's crib, the infant's tiny screams still muffled over.
Its face warped into a smile as it spat.
Nick choked back a cry as he woke up, kicking himself out of bed before his brain could follow and sprinting toward to crib. He caught himself on it and looked in, ripping back the blue blanket to find an empty mattress. He gripped the side of the crib to keep from falling over. Tears blurred his vision and he wanted to scream.
Where was she? What happened?Whatdidhedo?WHerwaswhathappened?Isheokaywherewhatdisshedeadisshealivewherewashisbabywhathappenedbreakthecribwhathappenedwheretearyourhandsuponthebrokenwoodwhathappenedwheresnapyourcat'sneckwhatwhwereisshepaintyourskinwithyourownbloodwhatwhereisshewhatwhere
"...Nick?" A groggy voice asked.
Nick looked up, a mess of fear and intrusive thoughts melding, blurring, together like his vision. His hands tightened around the rail, shaking, mind screaming at him to slam against the lights, you'll feel better when you do! Pull out the cards! Get the dice!
"Nick! Nicholas! Hey, answer me Nick!" The voice said, quiet yet firm.
Did you lock the doors? What about the windows? You better check, after all where else could she have gone?
He blinked at the wall, the room suddenly brighter. He needed to check the windows. One of them had to be open. What else could've happened?
Nick spun, slamming into another body. The other almost fell back, catching them both just in time. A whimper left his throat as he wiped his eyes. He stared at his trembling hands, mind urging him to tear at his skin till it bleeds. The other person righted themselves and grabbed his wrists gently, pulling them down. Nick looked up.
Keith's thin brows furrowed, deep brown eyes shining with worry. One of his ivory hands released Nick's wrist and came up to cup his cheek. "Nick? Nick, baby, what happened?" He breathed.
Nick opened his mouth, only for a sob to escape as he crumpled to the floor. Keith followed, snaking his arms around his waist as he murmured comfort into his husband's hair.
Nick let himself cry into Keith's chest, gripping his shirt like a lifeline.
Keith pet at his curls, repeating, "You're okay, you're okay, your nightmares ain't real, they can't follow you here." while kissing his crown and rocking them both.
Eventually, Nick's tears waned, shaking eased, and quiet sobs turned into dry hiccups. He sat there for another moment, easing his breathing as he calmed. He pulled back, wiping at his cheeks. Keith took his hands, pulling them away, before kissing the corners of both of Nick's eyes and then his forehead.
He lifted Nick's chin, looking into his eyes, "Hey. You're okay. Everyone's okay. Nothin's got us."
Nick sniffed, taking a shallow breath and nodding, "I know, I know. I'm okay now."
Keith's thumb ran over his cheek, "You scared about the baby?"
Nick nodded.
Keith jerked his head to the right, "She's sleeping with us, remember?"
Nick looked in the direction he indicated. And lo, there was Evangeline, sleeping on El's rising and falling chest, her blue quilt draped over her.
He turned back to Keith, a soft smile gracing the other's freckled cheeks, "I'm sorry-"
Keith stopped him, holding his shoulders, "Nuh uh, don't apologize for something you can't control."
Nick nodded, "Yeah, yeah, okay."
Keith took hold of his hands again, "You wanna go back to sleep?"
Nick checked the time, it was an hour earlier than he normally woke up. "No, I- I really don't think I can."
"You want me to make you some tea instead?"
Nick sniffed, "Yes please."
He pulled himself up, offering Keith a hand once standing. Keith tugged himself up, leading the way forward. Keith bumped the kitchen light on with his shoulder as he went in.
He gestured to the couch with one of his crutches, "Go ahead and sit down babe, I can get our stuff."
"You sure?" Nick asked, wanting to busy himself as a distraction. "Tea is pretty easy to fuck up."
"Nick," Keith turned to face him, hand on his hip, "I'm missing a leg, not an arm," he lifted his tattooed stump for emphasis, "I'm fine." He smiled, "If you wanna make your own tea, you're more than welcome to. I'm just trying to be nice."
"I'd like to make my own." Nick said, holding his elbows.
"As you wish."
The two made their tea in silence. As it boiled, Keith looked over to Nick.
"You wanna talk about it?"
Nick chewed his lip, contemplating the question for a moment. He nodded.
"I woke up, feeling like all my bones had been broken. I couldn't move, and when I looked around Eve was in her crib." Nick paused to pull the kettle off the burner and pour his tea. "I heard a spitter. When I tried to call for you and El, I saw you melting in its acid." He set the kettle down, stirring his drink. "At first the spitter tried to kill me too, then Eve started crying." Nick took a sip, gripping the warm mug with both hands. "I couldn't get up and-" he took a breath, "-And my ex was holding me down, choking me." Nick unwittingly brought a hand to his throat. "Last thing I saw was the spitter going after Eve."
Nick took a long sip when he finished. Keith pressed up to his side and kissed his temple, smoothing his hair down.
"None of that shit can't get you no more. It's all gone. We're safe now."
"I know. I just- I can't help but think that we're gonna be thrown back in one day. Like it's gonna catch up to us and the apocalypse won't ever end."
"Well, it's gonna just have to be a different apocalypse then, a clump of rogue cells can't do shit against a vaccine."
Nick smiled for the first time that morning, laughing quietly, "Can't argue with that."
Keith smiled back and kissed his cheek. Nick returned the gesture with a kiss to his nose. Keith leaned down and cupped his face, giving him a tender kiss on the lips. Nick sighed into the motion, letting the other lead as he got lost in the taste of Keith's mouth and the softness of the hair on the nape of his neck that had come loose from his braids. Keith hummed tracing his thumbs over Nick's scruffy cheeks and weaving his fingers through his dark curls. The men parted, breathless and lovestruck. They finished their tea in silence, holding each other's hand, their thumbs grazing the rings they'd found for the other. Nick set aside both mugs for later. He looked through the big bay window across the sink at the sunrise and smiled.
"Hey, is it your turn to make breakfast or mine?" Keith asked, looking in the fridge.
Nick furrowed his brows. He wasn't sure. Before he could respond to the question a distant cry filled the house. They looked at each other.
Nick sped toward the bedroom, a worried twitch to his hands. He found Ellis still in bed, drowsily patting Eve's little back and shushing her. The girl whimpered and El groaned, opening his eyes. His head rolled toward the doorway.
He gave a nod, "Hey Nick, how long you been up?"
Nick smiled, approaching the bed, "Not too long."
El hummed, closing his eyes. Nick picked their girl up, kissing her head.
"Oh no you don't mister," he laughed, bouncing Eve on his shoulder, "you've got work today. Get up."
Ellis huffed, sitting up, "I dunno how the hell you and Keith get up so easy."
Nick shrugged. Eve's cries subdued to whimpers now, "I'll take care of her, you go help Keith with breakfast."
"Okay..." Ellis replied as fumbled out of bed.
On his way out, he pressed a sloppy kiss to Nick's cheek, mumbling about how scratchy it was. Nick kissed his temple in return.
When he and Eve were left alone he looked back at the corner the spitter had stood in during his dream. He kissed his daughter's head, holding her a little tighter before turning off the lights and leaving the room.
When he got to the living room, the cat was awake, crying at Ellis despite his food dish being full already. He shooed the fluffball away by pretending to throw a piece of bacon. Nick sat down on one of their armchairs and began feeding Eve, watching Keith and Ellis make breakfast. He smiled.
No goddamned apocalypse or shitty ex was ever gonna be able to take this from him. Not now, not ever.
~~~
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