S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W

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We met up at a gas station about ten minutes later. Joyce was a crying mess. I don't blame her, two of the girls died and she was covered in her boyfriend's blood.

I, surprisingly, was also a mess. Not necessarily a crying mess, but a mess nonetheless. My sister was dead. One of my best friends was dead. My father figure, I guess, was dead.

Once the apocalypse started, we all thought of Joyce and Hopper as our parents. It was nice, having someone take care of you.

The weight of everyone's deaths was finally coming down on me. It hit me that I was almost all alone. Sure, I had the Killjoys. But I don't know them like I knew my team.

I'd been friends with Will for my entire life. He shot himself in the head because of the pain. That was the thing that didn't sit right with me. I could've been there to help him, but I wasn't.

I felt as if I didn't have a purpose anymore. I wasn't a good fighter, so what was the point of me going to fight BLIND?

"You okay?" (Y/n) asked, snapping me out of my daze. I was sitting on a bucket outside of the gas station.

"No," I said simply. I didn't dare look up at her. I didn't want her to see how hurt I was. She had blood on her shoes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, stepping closer to me. I didn't answer, but instead pressed my head into her stomach, hugging her lower half and crying into her.

She wrapped her arms around my head, playing with my hair. We stayed that way for about ten minutes. Then I ran out of tears to cry.

I stood up and faced her, wiping my nose on my arm. She had a splash of blood on her forehead, but she still looked beautiful.

"What happened?" I asked, running my thumb over the dried blood.

"I got socked in the face. I think it'll make for a cool scar. Maybe I'll even get a black eye," she said. I chuckled and placed my hands on her shoulders.

"Do you know what happened to Max?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"A BLIND guy picked up a rock and smashed her face in," she said quietly. I thought she had just been knocked out, so I was confused to as why Hopper said she was dead.

"This fucking sucks," I muttered, turning around and entering the gas station. Helena and Weekes were sitting on the desk at the front, Roxy was perusing the drink section, and Joyce was sitting on the floor, back against a freezer, asleep.

"Are we crashing here tonight?" I asked.

"Probably. The food in here isn't expired. They must've gotten a shipment the day the apocalypse started, or something," Weekes said with a shrug. She was counting dollars.

"Where did that come from?" I asked.

"Cash register. I know it doesn't have any value anymore, but it's nice to have money. Even if I can't do anything with it," she said, dropping a wad of about fifty bills on the counter.

"When we defeat BLIND and go to Italy, we can change the currency and have money for there. If they still have civilization," Helena said, flipping through her own wad of cash.

"I've always wanted to spend the night in a gas station," (Y/n) said, walking through the candy aisle.

"Same, actually," I said, picking up a bag of M&M's.

"Wanna make out in the bathroom?" (Y/n) asked with a smirk.

"You don't have to ask," I said, returning her smirk. She lead me to the bathroom and locked the door.

"Nasty asses!" Roxy yelled from the soda aisle. (Y/n) chuckled as I pushed her against the wall. Her back was flat on the wall, and my hands were on her waist. I roughly kissed her, and her hands made their way to my neck. She pushed on the back of my head, deepening the kiss.

After a few minutes, we were practically grinding on each other. I moved down to her neck, peppering kisses on her skin on the way down.

Suddenly, I heard a bang from the gas station. I pulled my head back and faced her.

"Did you hear that?" I asked. I gripped her waist tight as I glanced at the door.

"It was probably nothing," she said.

"I think we should check it out. You know, to make sure everyone is okay," I said.

"Yeah, you're right," she said, pulling away from me and opening the door. My breath hitched and my heart was racing. We had already gone through enough, I couldn't deal with another attack.

Helena and Weekes were yelling at Roxy, who was standing around broken glass.

"Everything okay out here?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. We're fine. Roxy is just a dumbass and dropped a glass bottle of blue soda," Helena said with a passive aggressive tone.

"Did you not see the crack in this floor! It wasn't my fault," Roxy said, pointing to a large crack in the cement floor.

"No excuses!" Weekes said. I chuckled and turned around, going back to the bathroom. (Y/n) followed me and sat on the floor, her back against the wall. She was sitting criss cross. I sat across from her, also criss cross, and fiddled with the shoelace on her boot.

"It makes you crazy, you know," I said, not looking up from her shoelace.

"What?" She asked.

"You know. Blank makes you crazy," I said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, her tone confused.

"So, uh, what I'm trying to say is... I l-"

I was interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

"Get out of there, lovebirds. I have to take a leak," Weekes exclaimed from outside of the door. (Y/n) shot up and walked to the door, opening it and walking back into the gas station.

"After you, ma'am," Weekes said, gesturing to the door.

"Oh fuck off," I said jokingly, walking out of the room and to the counter.

Helena was writing things on a notepad and sitting on the counter. She was wearing jean shorts with tights under them, a long sleeve black turtle neck, and tall black boots. I don't know how the hell she fought with the boots on, they had a three inch wedge and a five inch heel.

"How do you fight in those?" I asked. She looked up from her notepad and gave me a confused look. I motioned to the shoes.

"Oh, these? Years of practice, my guy. (Y/n) can fight in ten inch heels. We had to do it once," she said, looking back down at her notepad.

I turned around to see (Y/n) and Roxy talking in front of the cases of soda. They both had cans of (f/soda) and they were both laughing.

I admired her from a distance. How her eyes creased just a little when she laughed, how when she took a sip of soda she held her pinky up, and how she dug her toe into the floor when she was listening to a story.

God, I love her.

𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 [𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]Where stories live. Discover now