BloodMoney Oneshots (Billy X Weasel)

Focus On Me

Albert was nestled softly into the tiny cott that could barely be counted as a proper bed. What little blankets he had did nothing to keep the chilled, night air away from his soft, pale skin. The broken, melancholic pison planted in the middle of a San Francisco island made it difficult to get a decent night's sleep, but Albert was exhausted after a long day of running from walking corpses. He smelled of gunpowder and the gross stench of the rotting zombies blood. Throughout all the loud gunshots and the overly tiresome cycle of killing undead freaks and nearly dying himself, Albert still somehow found a reason to keep fighting. Billy Handsome.

Lately, the young man had been having gruesome nightmares, made apparent by the mumbling Billy did in his sleep. He would toss and turn, the thin, stained sheets were almost always thrown haphazardly to the floor or to a corner of the gross mattress. Billy would wake up, either with a grunt and a jolt as the other four mobsters made noise in the cafeteria or with a loud scream of terror as he bolted upright and backed himself against the bars of his cell. Albert realized that something was wrong when the hitman had a full on mental breakdown one morning, curling himself into a ball and crying, murmering something that Albert couldn't understand. From then on, the con man would take the time to comfort the deranged man, always being cautious as to not startle him from his restless slumber.

The Weasel groaned as he awoke, slowly opening his eyes and taking a moment to allow his sleepy brain to adjust and process. Billy was in his own cell, across the hall and a few doors away from Albert's, and Al could hear the soft mumbles the murderer was making. Quickly, but quietly, Albert stood up, nearly tripping over his own feet in his sleepy haze. He sniffled and rubbed his eyes as he walked to the cell that contained the panicking killer. Slowly, Albert sat on the edge of Billy's cott, easing himself into the firm, plastic covered mattress until he was fully laying on his left side. He gently placed a gloved hand on Billy's muscular back, carefully rubbing up to his shoulders and back down to his waist.

Billy awoke this time, shooting upward and slamming his arms against the wall and bars with a yelp, looking frantically around the little room. Albert sat up and put his hands up, palms out, to show he meant no harm. Billy looked at him, fear sparkling in his royal blue eyes that were normally full of bloodlust and insanity.

"A-are you real?" Billy stammered. He was clearly afraid of Albert, shrinking further into the corner as he cowered.

"I'm real" Albert reached out but stopped just before touching the hitman, curling his fingers back into the palm of his hand. "Is it okay if I touch you?"

Billy searched through the con man's blue and green eyes, trying to find the malicious intent behind them. His breathing was ragged and short, he was hyperventilating as he looked Albert up and down like a cornered animal, trying to gage if he should fight or flee. Slowly, he nodded, flinching as Albert's soft fingers made contact with his sweaty jawline. Albert gently slid his hand farther and placed his gloved palm against Billy's cheek, drawing small circles in his cheek bone with his thumb.

Billy slowly relaxed, leaning his head into the Weasel's hand as his breathing slowed. He was hallucinating, the disturbing images of horror demons and his past murders circling around the pair as they sat on the little bed. One walked up behind Albert, causing the panic to rise up in Billy all over again as he flinched away in reflex. The con man looked behind him, scanning the dark room.

"Billy it's okay, it's not real" Albert reassured as he turned back towards Billy. He moved closer, sliding himself over so his back was against the cell bars and he grabbed Billy by the shoulder, gingerly pulling him towards himself. "Focus on me, close your eyes."

Billy did as he was told, squeezing his eyes shut as he rested his head on Albert's chest. The soft rhythm of Albert's, much calmer heartbeat soothed the psychopath as he wrapped his arms around the con man, snaking them underneath his blue peacoat. Albert stroked Billy's jet black hair, gently scratching his scalp as he combed his hair back with his fingers. Billy relaxed again, finding some sense of safety knowing the arsonist would protect him.

To an outsiders point of view, it would look quite silly. The psychotic murderer with a well built body cowering, half inside the much smaller male's coat as the Weasel rubbed small circles into his back. But Albert understood Billy, he knew that the hitman had a horrible childhood, if you can even call it that. He found himself enjoying the moment, knowing Billy might kill him in the morning if it meant keeping him quiet about the hidden, softer side of the killer. And as the sound of his heartbeat soothed Billy to sleep, Albert realized he too was still tired from his own awakening. Slowly, Albert fell asleep, still holding Billy and subconsciously rubbing his back.

A/N
I tried writing with much more detail so I hope it's okay lol