𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗥 | the boys 2

𝘹𝘹) 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

"Becca!" He yelped as Rowan departed from his side, he fought with the passenger door to scoop out his wife.

All the while, she threw herself to her knees at the other side of the car and clawed at the handle. Tensing up her arms, Rowan clutched it and used her feet to push herself away. Despite the struggle, she managed to jam the door back open at the small expense of her hitting the grass with a small thud. She was greeted with a groan as she helped M.M. out of his cramped position. Admittedly, she wasn't able to haul him out as she first assumed, but the same concern was still there. "Are you okay?!" She panted as he whipped out his shot gun rather nonchalantly.

"Yeah..." He stretched out his arms and gave a look she couldn't quite distinguish. It was similar to surprise, but he had looked fine while crawling out of the car. "Thanks, Kid." He sighed,"You go help the others."

Rowan obeyed without another word and rushed over to the other side of the car, where Butcher was supporting Rebecca in his arms. As soon as the woman began to helplessly call out for her son, a tremendous stomach ache washed over her. It wasn't an injury or sickness, it was pure nerves punching her guts as he doubled over to scoop Ryan out of his seat. Once it had been established everyone in the car got out alive and well, M.M. returned from the other side and swung his arm in the direction of the woods as more purple crackles cut out the clouds.

"Go. We'll hold her off." He assured, clearly referencing Stormfront and her current terrorising of Hughie, Annie, Kimiko and Frenchie.

The bubbling inside her only worsened when Butcher nodded, only at him, and hurriedly led Becca and Ryan into the trees. Not a word. Not a fucking glance. Thoughts determinedly flying in and out of her head, Rowan followed her wobbling feet to the bunker. At first, she wasn't quite sure what had happened - all she could comprehend was that she was suddenly sat on the grass once more, and that Hughie was calling for her.

She squinted slightly, trying to push the images of fierce flames and intense heat from the huge explosion out of the way of her eyes. "I'm good!" She yelled back and clambered back upright, paying a dissatisfied glance to the structure now severely charred, most likely along with the vehicles and weaponry inside, all because of the Nazi mega-bitch, herself. By the time she had made it to where the men were panting, a blur of earthy tones and polished silver was flickering around Stormfront with Starlight and Kimiko. "That's not..." Rowan hunched her shoulders. The 't' at the end lingered there somewhat, as it usually did when she spoke.

"It is." Hughie grinned. "You don't wanna' get in there?" He questioned, watching the three of them beat the utter shit out of the recently more scrutinised member of The Seven. What was so surreal was that the only other females in The Seven, along with Kimiko, were the ones beating her up so spectacularly.

"They look like they're just doing just fine." She scoffed. The sounds of the screaming, kicking and awful swears were like music to her ears... but her legs were still trembling beneath her. Why wasn't someone telling her what to do? There was always someone. "Fuck." She sighed.

"What is it?" He turned his head.

Rowan opened her mouth to speak, pausing when Stormfront scrambled away from the real 'Girls Get It Done' team, and shot into the air. Cowardly bitch.

"Something's wrong." Hughie guessed.

"The quiet." She blurted out.

"Huh?"

"Uh, the-the voices."

"They're telling you to do things?" He guessed a second time. She hardly noticed him stepping closer towards her. But she knew that if it wasn't for North Carolina, or Pennsylvania (now she'd been made aware of her clinging to him in her sleep), he would probably be backing away from her. Hughie wasn't scared of her hurting him.