Under Control (Ticci Toby X Reader)

Chapter Ten

"So, world, what's going on?" I murmured as I turned on the news channel, hoping to hear nothing of my sin.

"Latest development on the Alley Shooting: From a nearby camera system near where the incident occurred that shook the night of January the thirteenth. Where just three days ago, reports came in about a homicide. Eren Walker was found shot in the head and beaten. Police say they have a lead, but many possible suspects. Currently two suspects are on the run:...," it went further on, but my mind had spaced out. Besides, not my problem, not my doing, I shouldn't worry on it.

I chuckled, "Imagine those killers were also here, in this motel. Ha, the irony that would be!" Gradually, my laughter went to a solemn silence.

"Hey, at least you prove... Trustworthy as my h-henchmen. Sort of, I guess, I-I don't know," Toby mumbled as he stared through.

"Yes, and this motel is our evil, secret lair," I joked.

"Y-Yup, you are in charge with the x-ray as I-I get F-Frankenstein from the closet!" Toby chuckled.

"Can't deny it, those movies were the bomb!" Basically, Toby had arrived around midnight and basically kept my drunk self from doing stupid shit and got me to take a nap. Apparently, from what he told me, I was about to run into the halls and start yelling lyrics and he came just in time to change my mind. So it's now morning and he and I were joking, I trying to forget what I done, and he just trying to be friendly I guess.

"So," Toby's tone going low and serious. "Anyone see you?" I Shook my head. "Anyone nearby, besides h-him?" Shook my head again. "Do you t-think you got fully a-away with it?" I shrugged.

"Let us just see what happens, m'kay?"

Toby sighed, leaning his head back against the chair.

"I'm going to get something to eat. Toby?"

"Danish or something."

"M'kay, I'll be back."

I walked out of the room and went outside the building, walked to the other part of the motel. "Hey, don't look so down," I chirped, forcing a casual smile. A girl who seemed to be around my age, looked up at me from her table. She was staring at her coffee and I can't bring myself to not say something to her. She looked very troubled.

"Eh, what else is there to do?" Her voice was raspy as if she was crying not to long ago. I should know from last night. She looked back at her coffee. "Is it normal to just break down?"

"Sweetie, it's normal, trust me. I got a friend who's the queen of breaking down at every situation," I told her. She forced a smile, which any one could tell that was fake.

"I better go," she muttered and left the room with her coffee and went outside to the parking lot.

I hoped I at least brightened her mood, my mood stil was dim as shit. I got a dannish for Toby and a little snack for me, since the motel only served little snacks and coffee or tea as a "breakfast".

Finally, I was back in the motel room where Toby now munched on a danish and criticized a poorly-acted TV show. I just sat with my hand holding my chin and my eyes closed. All I did was think and remember. It's so odd how it happened. I felt like I enjoyed the adreniline it came with. But I felt so horrible at the same time. It was a pleasurable mix of feelings.

"Toby, how do you just... kill and not think anything of it?"

Toby stopped munching and seemed to be in thought, twitched a bit and zeroed in on his food. "Well, I-I, don't know, anger? Anger seems to make it go away."

"Well, what makes you angry?"

"Rather n-not d-dicsus," he muttered.

I shrugged it as nothing and began watching the news again. It hadn't talked about the murder I caused,  fortunately. I messed with my hair and hoped that maybe that won't find him. Then again, someone seeing an abandoned truck in the woods, their bound to investigate further. And him missing could set off some alarms. "At, Toby, why did I... kill that guy?"

"That I can answer. W-Well, I truly c-can't stand someone who b-beats their wife," he mumbled. I nodded, well, maybe I did something good? I don't know.

"Do you kill people for reasons like that?" I asked, curious.

He laughed hoarsely, "Not always."

"Oh," I frowned slightly.

"Y-You know," he twitched, "Your aunt is probably wondering w-w-where ya are."

I shook my head and lazily looked at him from across the room. "Na, she probably thinks I'm wasted or something. She never really cared if I was gone for a whole night and day."

He seem to take in the information and looked over at me from his food. "Why do you  drink t-that stuff anyways?"

I tried to search for an excuse, I'll be frank with ya, I never really thought of why I drank alcohol in the first place. Probably middle school, ya, it was middle school. Then... Well...,"It helps ya know? Takes off the edge of what life is. Fucking life. Helps to forget things, to make things go away," I shrugged while answering.

He frowned, his dark brown eyes seemed concern. "Ah, just please don't drink that around me, kay?"

I shrugged and nodded, wondering why he seemed concern about my little problem. If anything, he should be concerned of his problems. He has many,  but I'm not willing to start pointing them out and get killed. He, if anything, is a bit unstable. Okay, like very unstable, unpredictable, he looks capable of murdering any one at any given time. Perhaps it's the way he dresses which is a bit sloppily, or how his eyes can give a fierce storm by a glare, or his twitching problem which he pretty much despises. Toby is a mysterious one, no doubt there. And I, I still don't know why I'm helping him. Sure, he's like the only person around me any more. Won't consider him as a friend really. Too much secrecy for me. Wish things were back to the way they were. I'd sit home and drink or have a smoke, go to work, be bothered by people pointing out my flaws, and then go home to sleep and repeat. Good times. Now, it's like I'm an emotional mess that seems drunken all the time and is working with some nut job maniac so my family and friends could be whole and living. The things I do.

"Alright, in two hours or so we should get back," I suggested tossing my bag on the bed. He nodded and I got my shit together. You know, it's odd how he changed around me. Ha, when we first met he was a psycho searching for his beloved hatchet that I had. Douche. I still liked that hatchet.

(1167 Words)