Battle Scars

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Albert was having an awful dream. He tossed, he turned, he trashed and groaned, squeezing his already closed eyes shut. Finally, whatever was so disturbing caused the small man to awaken with a yell as he shot up. He was hyperventilating, feeling suffocated by his own clothes. Quickly, Albert pulled off his shirts, moving his blanket away from him as he tried to force himself to calm down.

He traced his fingers over several lash, stab, and other abuse wounds that littered his sides and shoulders, eventually ending by gripping his forearm. All the scars there were hidden by a large burn mark caused by an explosion. Idiot. Albert yelled at himself on the inside. Of course he had to stand too close to the explosives. Not only did that get him arrested, he also lost everything when he went to prison, including a portion of his skin. Now there are zombies everywhere and all his teamates seem to hate him.

Except for Billy. Billy seemed to hate him the most at first, but now they had some pretty decent conversations and shared a few jokes now and then. Albert would dare to say, the two had become friends.

"Woah holy shit!" Billy whisper-yelled. Albert panicked, turning towards the hitman and attempting to hide his scars. He had forgotten, none of the others had ever seen him out of his blue peacoat. "Where did all those come from?" He asked.

"Well... lots of things..." Albert mumbled. He reached for his uniform but stopped as he felt Billy sit beside him and lightly touch one of the scars on his left shoulder blade.

"Is this a name? It says Matt..."

"Its an ex..."

Billy traced over a few obvious stab wounds, gently sliding his hand across his back to a couple of parallel lash marks. "Did someone do this?" Albert just nodded, refusing to speak on the matter.

The killer swept his thumb over what looked like claw marks running over the back of his ribcage. He touched a nasty looking bite mark on Al's shoulder, instantly asking what that one was about. The con-man gave a small reply, almost inaudible, simply saying it was traumatic and he didn't want to talk about it.

Billy leaned down, placing a soft kiss to the smaller males shoulder blade. Albert just smiled and blushed, not sure why the hitman was being so gentle. Then he felt Billy smirk against his skin letting out a small chuckle.

"You know, I can add my own bitemark." Billy said. "A proper one, one that'll dissapear in a few days." Albert blushed more, unsure of how to respond he just decided not to reply. Billy pulled his head back while pulling Weasel closer by his waist. "Sorry that was poorly timed."

Albert stuttered for a moment, still a bit shocked from Billy's sudden change in attitude. "I-I don't mind.." He started fidgeting with his glove.

He squeaked and jolted as Billy bit down on his neck, gentle but firm enough to leave a bruise as he suckled softly on the tender, pale skin. Billy pulled back, admiring the mark he left on the smaller man's neck. "Mine" he growled.

Albert nodded, leaning back against the younger males chest. "What made you come to my cell?"

"Heard you yell." Billy replied. "Must have been a fucked up dream."

Weasel nodded once more, realizing he was still tired as he yawned and closed his multicolored eyes. He couldn't be bothered to put his shirt or uniform back on, completely forgetting he was shirtless as he fell asleep to Billy's soft kisses on his cheek and neck. "I love you" he heard Billy mumble, but he was already asleep before he could mutter one in return.

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