I Want to See Your Smile Again

Chapter 9

r u ready freddy

It's a few hours later when Apollo finds out what the bad thing is.

"...Daddy?" He can hear Trucy call from the main living room, and her voice quivers a little, unsteady.

Apollo's first thought is that something's wrong, and he's out of his seat in seconds. Please, if something is really wrong, not Trucy. Please don't let anything happen to her, he's begging of- whomever he's talking to in his head, he guesses. He's too suddenly worried to bother with logic.

Apollo's out of his office before he's realized he's moving, skidding to a stop in the living room. Mr. Wright appears in the doorway of his office in an instant after Apollo, out of breath and eyes widened. He looks panicked out of his mind, eyes glued onto Trucy.

"Trucy?" Apollo gasps, at the same time as Mr. Wright asks, "What's wrong?"

Trucy doesn't even look at them. Her eyes are glued to the television screen, widened in disbelief. Her arms wrap around her knees, pressed to her chest. "You need to see this."

Apollo's sigh of relief is cut short. Trucy is physically fine, limbs attached, not bleeding, but that doesn't change the fact that something is really wrong, judging by how Mr. Wright is staring. What the hell is so horrible that the Wrights are reacting like this?

Apollo walks to the couch, slow enough to try and calm his heart rate. He isn't sure how much more of the Wrights he can take, before he dies of a fucking heart attack before he's 30. If this is a prank, he swears, there will be no force in heaven or hell to take mercy on the Wrights.

Time to see what's up. Apollo scans the TV. It's turned to a local news channel, he can tell by the solemn looking woman sitting at a desk, inevitably delivering bad news. There are block letters beside her, breaking news, red and blaring. Prison Break, they report, and Apollo forgets how to breathe.

Him. That's the only thing Apollo can think, the glint of glasses and a curl of blonde hair sparking in his mind. There's a flash of manicured nails, a delicate sneer, and Apollo feels like clutching at his head. Apollo shakes his head, he wants it all out, he never wants to see any of it again. Apollo doesn't want to even think that he's escaped, it's too horrible to consider. His reign of terror is over, everything should be over, Apollo won, he should never have to think about him and the sheer petrifying power he holds.

Mr. Wright makes a choked noise from behind them. "He's-"

Mr. Wright stops, mid-phrase. Apollo can't blame him; he's still wrapping his head around it too. Somehow it doesn't feel real, even with the new text scrolling in that's confirming his worst fears. Apollo is so used to having him put away, cleaning up the after effects, trying to forget what caused it all in the first place.

Apollo feels his skin prickle, and he can't help but shiver. He knows that it's unreasonable, but he's terrified. He doesn't want to think-

"We'll be fine." Mr. Wright interrupts, and the smile on his face looks like it hurts. "We're all going to be fine."

Apollo's brain fires back with a volley of sarcastic remarks, but he can't say anything. He hates himself for even thinking that they wouldn't be fine. He has to believe Mr. Wright. He has to believe that they'll be fine. He isn't sure that he'll keep standing, if he doesn't. The news is like being punched in the gut, left reeling and breathless and in too much pain to think about getting up again.

There's a swish as the door opens, and Mr. Wright jumps when Trucy shrieks. Apollo whips around to face the door, clenching his fists so hard that his nails are digging into his palms. The adrenaline takes control of his brain and he's ready to- well, he doesn't know what he's planning to do, but it's something.