Cashiering isn't so bad [Creepypasta/Marble Hornets x Male reader]

Closer Now

A few hours passed by like years, the ticking of the clock that hung on the wall beside him marked seconds that felt like hours. It even seemed to echo louder as he waited in anticipation, part of M/n prayed they'd come sooner, part of him prayed they didn't come at all. Stressing out about it made his head pound, like his brain was aching to escape the confines of his skull. All he was able to do to medicate it was drink and breathe, but no matter how hard he tried he could never get the feeling of his heart in his throat to go down. It sucked but he sucked it up.

   Finally he saw Vic pull into the parking lot, struggling to get out of the car with her swollen belly. He helped her out, only imagining how hard it was to work at seven months but not really saying anything about it. Vic despised being patronized.

   "Any updates on your parasite?"

   "You really hate babies don't you?"

   "Of course not." He waved her off as he followed her into the store. "Just the crying, and the diapers, and the dependency... okay maybe I do hate babies." They both snickered.

   "We caved and got an ultrasound. It doesn't matter but he's gonna be a boy." Vic waddled behind the counter. Getting up on a stool M/n remembered to put back there once Sally was done using it.

   "You three gonna be okay?"

   "Yeah..." she hummed. "I think we'll be fine, James is finally settling into being on the force, which means I'm just hanging out until I get my maternity leave and then I'm done. No more work for me." Vic thought for a second, her hand rubbing circles into her stomach. "What about you?"

   "What about me?"

   "Are you gonna be okay?"

   M/n sighed, stuffing his good hand in his pocket before shaking his head. "No, no I'm not."

   "Oh, M/n."

   "I know, I know I should've expected this. I just... never thought it'd happen to me."

   "None of us do till the day it does." She looked off to the side, out of the window towards the trees before she turned back to M/n. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm sure they'll make it quick."

   He nodded. "I know they will. It just doesn't help." He smiled weakly and Vic mustered up an equally weak smile back.

   Their silence was interrupted by the sound of tires over gravel as Tim and Brian's truck pulled up. They both glanced towards the beat up vehicle and shared a parting look before M/n dipped. Hopping in the bed of the truck as one of his childhood dreams began.

   It started slow, but the further out they got, weaving through dirt paths that would turn into gravel and then back to dirt, the faster they got. Wind whipped through M/n's hair like Aeolus was protecting him. It felt like a dream, and for the first time since he broke his wrist M/n finally felt at peace. He rested his arms against the back of his truck and laid his head against his arms, watching with doe eyes as the world flew past him without a glass barrier.

   Inside the truck Tim's eyes never left M/n, making sure that none of the turns they took gave him whiplash. Brian let his fun go on for another 20 minutes before he stopped the truck out in a field, backing in so M/n faced the rolling hills illuminated by the sun rising behind them. Soon they climbed into the bed with him, Brian clutching onto a cooler that he set down by his feet. For a few minutes they just sat and watched the horizon, sharing drinks and enjoying the peace in each others company, M/n especially enjoying being sandwiched between two hot guys. The three knew it was only temporary, they'd have to get on topic at some point. They just wanted to enjoy it while it lasted, even if it only lasted a few more seconds.

   "So," Tim started, clearing his throat. "Are you gonna start talking or do we need to start grilling you?"

   "Why are you two so concerned?" M/n didn't mean for it to come out so hostile, and the two knew he didn't mean it like that but M/n still felt like he needed to clarify. "I just mean... I appreciate it, it feels really nice, but it seems like it's coming out of left field."

   "What? We can't play therapist for our favorite cashier?" Brian asked as M/n pulled his knees into his chest.

   M/n only shook his head, sighing through his nose as he thought to himself.

   "You've been acting weird lately, and on top of that every time we see you you look worse than before. First it's the scratches, then the bruising, at one point you look like you got hit by a car, and now you broke your arm." Brian continued, counting on his fingers as he listed off the number of injuries M/n's sustained throughout the month and a half they've known each other.

   "You wouldn't believe me if I said I was just that clumsy?" M/n tried to joke but as he glanced between Brian and Tim their faces told him that this wasn't a laughing matter.

   "This is serious, M/n." Brian said. Using his first name? M/n got the same feeling he got in his stomach whenever he was chewed out by his mom.

   "You're not... being hurt by someone at home, are you?" Tim asked.

   "What? No!"

   "Then what is it? What has you so down?"

   M/n ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his neck as he stared at his feet in front of him. He wanted to open up. He really did. Eight years, eight years he had kept quiet and his head down, and now he finally had the chance to let it out. For the first time in his life he had the chance to vent his frustrations. To talk about his problems.

   The question was, was it worth it?

   He'd be risking his life— and that's when it hit him, that didn't matter anymore. So with one last sigh he metaphorically threw his hands up and let open the gates of his trauma.

   "Eight years ago I started working for some local gang in signature forgery, for money laundering and stuff. I broke my wrist after I got in a fight with one of my coworkers and since I'm not gonna be able to do any signatures anytime soon... especially when you take into account my physical therapy... My boss considers me a liability. I have an unspecified amount of time to get my shit together and say goodbye before I turn up in a ditch somewhere looking like Swiss cheese. You know... to tie up loose ends..." He chuckled weakly and didn't bother looking at the horrified expressions Tim and Brian shared.