No ones POV:
Vance and Bruce sat down, the world around them being basic and plain. A silence was hung between them.
"We're not going to make it out Vance." Bruce slowly spoke, breaking the silence. Although Bruce never would've wanted to say it. It may have been true.
"Don't.. Don't say that, we'll make it out. One way or another." Vance spoke, although he also believed they wouldn't make it out.
They both feel silent again, before Vance stood up and walked into the small bathroom which was kept down there. Bruce just watched as Vance walked into it. Bruce held his head tightly in his hands, remembering all of the memories he could.
Vance slowly fiddled with the screws on the toilet. Taking one out to loosen up the others, he stared at the small piece of metal. Before throwing it across the room
Although Vances body felt limp and achey, he had to keep his promise to escape out of here.
Meanwhile, Bruce slowly stood up from the bed. He picked up his fist and stared at the Concrete wall. Punching it, no use. He tried again, Bruce punched the wall until his fists where practically down to the bone. The blood ran down his hand as he stared down at his fist, the stinging pain didn't hurt him. Its was the numbness of not being able to escape this basement which hurt him.
Vance could hear it, so he took a peak. All he saw was Bruce looking down at his fist, the back to the wall. Which had left the tiniest dent in it. Barely noticeable.
Vance crawled out from the bathroom, looking down at Bruces hand. This gave them both the bittersweet memory of when they had first interacted on the curb of the road.
"Why would you do that Bruce." Vance spoke carefully, he knew one wrong word could make Bruce break down immediately.
Bruce just fell silent, holding out his hand to bruce as blood had bubbled down his fist and already began to dry quickly. The blood oozed sluggishly from his fist, clotting in some weird shape.
Vance and Bruce did have no way to fix this, and if the Grabber saw. Who knows what he'd do.
The first though which came to Vances mind was toilet water. Which would've been the only way to fix the blood and clean off the dried and chipping pieces of blood.
Vance tugged at Bruces arm, bringing him into to small bathroom, sitting near the toilet.
Bruce gave Vance an god awful stare. But this would've been the only solution to there problems. So Bruce sat down next to Vance. Closing his eyes as he felt the cold water trickle down his hands.
"Yuck." Bruce mumbled as he felt it dripped down his hands, but as soon as it started. It stopped.
"How do we bandage it." Bruce stared at Vance, "Do we bandage it?" He asked in curiosity, as he had never got his knuckles beaten up to the bone before.
"Of course we bandage it idiot." Vance chuckled, trying to lighten the mood of this gloomy basement. "But we don't have bandages." He said, staring at his shoes.
"Uh, i could.. Rip my shirt from the bottom, I just don't think i'm strong enough to do that." Bruce stared back at Vance, who was already staring back at him.
"Then let me." Vance slowly pulled a hand out to the bottom of Bruces shirt. A small tearing sound was audible as Vance pulled gently, trying not to let Bruces shirt rip to badly.
After a while of pulling. Vance tugged the rest of the bottom of the shirt off. Placing it gently on Bruces hand.
"Thats okay, right?" Vance spoke as he wrapped it tightly along Bruces knuckles, Bruce just nodded in response. Bruces words caught in his throat for some reason.
Once again, the loud metal clanging of the basement door was heard. Bruce and Vance exchanged a look and both ran down to the mattress before the door opened. The grabber stared down at them.
"Do you want breakfast?" The grabber spoke in his deep, commanding voice. Which could make both boys shiver just at the sound of it.
"Uh-uh, yes please." Bruce stuttered softly as he looked up at the grabber. His eyes staring down his body in a disgusted face.
"Don't worry, i won't do anything you won't like. Trust me pretty boy." The grabber spoke, the small nickname he was given made him almost scoff in disgust. That name was the one that came from Vances voice the first time they met, and him using it gave him a horrible dread.
"I'll be going." The grabber turned on his heel, "Don't try to yell, the walls are soundproofed." He spoke as he went up the stairs slightly, locking the door behind him.
"We aren't getting out. I told you Vance." Bruce spoke, his voice saddened even more.
"No.. We are, i know we will." Vance spoke in a brazen tone.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Vance stayed up right while Bruce slouched close towards him, staying close, keeping his comfort. The same stupid metal clanging sound was heard once again. They both looked at the door.
"Heres your food. And i know what you did." The grabber says as he points to Bruces hand, "I told you not to."
Bruce stared with a horrid look painted across his face.
"I don't care." Bruce spat, while the grabber chuckled.
"Ohh well, don't bite the hand that feeds you. I'll see you soon." The grabber chuckled, closing the door behind him. But not locking it.
Bruce gave Vance a happy smile, although, Vance gave him a bad look.
"He has bad intentions, he'd never 'forget' to lock the door." Vance stared back at Bruce, Bruces smile dropped quickly.
"Yeah, you're right. He wouldn't." Bruce just tightened his grip on Vances hand. "We'll make it out, i swear." Bruce said, remarking Vances words.
Word count: 999
YOU ARE READING
favours | Bruce Yamada x Vance Hopper | DISCONTINUED
Fanfiction(WILL ADD TW AND OTHER THINGS AT BEGINNING OF CHAPTER/S) the pinball boy, Vance hopper. A well known, 'scary monster' of the school. Number 27, Bruce yamada. An extremely popular, extrovert, and friendly person begins feeling a warm feel he has neve...
