Hell's Book of Random One-shots

Forget the Horrors - Brahms Heelshire (The Boy) - Request

(Warning: Talk of injury, blood and kidnapping.
Canon typical really.)

She lay there motionless, blood pooling around her head and seeping into the carpet beneath her hair.

Brahms hadn't meant to hurt her, but he'd flown into a fit over a bout of anger and panic and she had fallen.

He stared at her torso, watching with growing worry that it would eventually stop moving altogether as she took her last breath.

He had only wanted to stop her from leaving.

Who would give him his goodnight kiss if she left?

Finding a new nanny wasn't easy anymore and hadn't been for a long time and she was so perfect, he couldn't let her get away.

He hadn't meant to make her fall back like that, he just wanted her to know that this was their home now, one to have together.

It had only been a small grapple; he had wrapped his arms around her as she bolted for the door and turned around to throw her back into the room as opposed to the hallway that she was running for.

As he slammed the door closed with a yelled; "You can't leave!", she had stumbled in an attempt to catch herself from his forceful fling and found she couldn't, instead she lost all balance and fell with a sickening thud as her temple connected with the corner of a table.

They had been doing so well, or so he thought.

Not he didn't know what to do, he hadn't wanted to kill her.

Brahms really liked her.

A small groan cuts through his panic and he watched as she slowly raised a hand towards her head, fingers pressing onto the headwound that was creating a mass amount of discomfort.

He continued watching, assessing her from a distance.

She seemed to be okay, she was moving and breathing and head wounds typically bled worse than they were, right?

Her eyes flickered around the room, her face scrunching up in both pain and confusion.

How long had she been down?

Why did everything seem so familiar and yet not?

Brahms took a step forward, his hands held out towards her.

She flinched as she caught the movement from her eye, the motion making her head pulsate and scream in agony, her eyes becoming hazy and unfocused.

Though not enough to blind her to the scruffy man that was looming over her, face obscured by a strange, porcelain looking mask.

Her voice caught in her throat and she pushed beyond her pain and any logical thinking to try and scramble away from him, letting out a panicked curse as she did.

As she pushed herself back, Brahms took a stumbling step forward which only made her panic and fear catapult to new heights.

"Stay the hell away from me!" She yelled, cradling her injured temple while looking around frantically for something to throw at the strange man.

"I'm sorry," he said hastily in a strange mixture of his normal voice and his more childlike tone, taking another step forward. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"I said stay away from me, you creep!"

"I said I'm sorry, so stop yelling!" His voice was desperate and conflicted, like a child being scolded and trying to make amends.

She did, but only so that she could focus on getting herself up and running to the door, away from this strange man once her strength had built up, but she felt so weak and her body wouldn't comply with her wishes.

Brahms, on the other hand, was devastated at the fact that she had gone back to treating him like a complete stranger.

He'd started pacing back at forth, his mind racing on what he was supposed to do now.

The look in her eyes made it clear that she no longer recognised him and this scared him more than an accidental killing would have.

Death would have meant that she hadn't decided to leave.

Mere injury could have led to them sorting things out between themselves, resulting in him making her promise to never leave him.

Her rightful place was by his side, after all.

But this result was far worse.

She would leave, probably to find someone else and forget about him entirely as someone else made her happy.

She would live a whole life without Brahms and he would be here, alone.

He refused to let that happen.

His pacing stopped and he turned towards her, a hardened look hidden by his mask.

She was still trying to decipher the best way to get out, but her injury was causing grogginess and confusion which clouded her critical thinking.

She was tired and lethargic, wanting to sleep as much as she wanted to escape.

Footsteps thudded against the floor as Brahms crossed the room, not leaving enough space for her to make a sudden dash for it if she managed to climb to her feet.

A building fear rose in her chest as she watched this obviously deranged man, anticipating any movement he would make and preparing for the worst possible outcome.

Was he retrieving a knife or some other weapon to finish her off?

When he turned back around, she saw what appeared to be a sheet of paper clasped tightly between his fingers.

He was in front of her again in a few strides and she found that she flinched as he crouched beside her, his head tilted as her eyes watered.

"Please," she whimpered, her eyes closing from the weight of her eyelids as a tear rolled down her cheek, "please don't hurt me, I want to go home."

There was a pregnant pause between them, the room only filled with her sniffling and soft whimpers.

After what felt like too long, she forced her eyes open to see if he had perhaps left without her noticing, though she knew that that was only wishful thinking.

Instead, he remained crouched beside her, his eyes slowly looking over her with what could be read as pity.

"I won't hurt you," he said softly, reaching out the hand that wasn't clasping the sheet of paper, "unless you try to leave me again."

She tensed up as his palm came to rest on her jaw.

"I-I just want to go home," she repeated shakily.

"This is your home," he replied, shifting around to sit down cross-legged in front of her, the paper held up so that she could read it.

It seemed to be a list from what she could make out, though her head ached and her eyes were blurred with tears.

"We just have to train you again."