Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If there was one thing you were good at, it was telling when someone no longer wanted to date you. You’re not sure why this is a skill you take pride in, because it meant you’d dated enough of a variety of people to know how different people acted when they wanted to break up.

Regardless, you knew your time with Damien was drawing to a close when he started acting aloof and avoided you and your calls. It made you anxious and sick to your stomach, because if he was going to break up with you, why can’t he just do it now? But you also know that’s now how people play the game- certainly not people like Damien.

So you sit with Liam and Polly at the ‘Monsters Who Don’t Eat’ table, and wait.

When he does it, it’s not quite as much of an emotional let down as you had anticipated- maybe because you’d been stressing about it so much the past few weeks. So to Damien, you take it surprisingly well.

“You’re not… mad, or some shit? You don’t wanna, like, kill me?” He asks when you tell him it’s okay. He rubs the back of his neck, looking kind of confused.

You laugh, amused by his obvious habits of only picking angry, vengeful girlfriends, and trying to mask the aching soreness in your throat. You hope it sounds genuine, and from the way he relaxes, you assume it does. “I’m not vengeful,” you say with a calm but slightly strained smile. “It’s your decision. Can’t blame you for it.”

Only have myself to blame.

He barks out a laugh. “That’s a good way to see it.” Then he pauses, and glances away. “Can we still be friends? You… you’re cool. I just wanna see other people.”

You smile, afraid your voice will betray you, and nod.

“Awesome. See ya later then.” Damien waves before heading back off down the hill to catch up with Polly and Liam to ditch the rest of the school day and head off to a party.

You let out a breath and unclench your hands from where they were tightened into fists behind your back. You have to turn away from watching Damien drive off to keep from missing him more than you already do. No point in making the pain worse than it already is.

You spend the rest of the day pondering the interaction. Damien never gave a clear explanation as to why he wanted to split off, and you can’t help but wonder if maybe he couldn’t come up with anything. He just didn’t want to be chained to you anymore.

“Am I clingy?” You finally ask Oz on your way home from school that day. You aren’t sure if that’s the reason, but after thinking about it for long enough, clingy is the only reason you can think of that would explain Damien’s behavior before breaking things off.

Oz looks at you strangely. “Well I don’t know. I’ve never dated you before. I don’t think you’re a clingy friend .”

You sigh, letting your shoulders droop slightly. “Right…”

“Why?” He moves a bit closer to your side so he knows he’s in your peripheral. “Did Damien finally break things off?”

You had been telling Oz essentially daily updates on how you’d been feeling during the ordeal. He hadn’t really provided much insight, but that was okay. You didn’t need insight anyway. You just needed a good friend.

“Yeah, but he didn’t tell me why ,” you say in a slightly distressed tone, before realizing your emotions about it are coming through, and you take a slow breath.

“Why do you need to know?” He moves forward and turns to walk backwards so you can make eye contact, but you continue to avoid it.

“So I can fix it.”

After a long moment of no response, you look up at him.

“I don’t think you need to fix it.”

And suddenly, you’re questioning whether Oz is content with being single, like he constantly preaches.

You sigh and rub your face. “I need a drink.”

He turns back to the front and falls in step beside you. “Sounds good. I could use one too.”

The rest of the night is a blur, but you wake up next to Oz in a motel room, and there’s some aching yearning feeling in your heart when you say your goodbyes without speaking of the events of the previous night.

Damn, how much you wish you could remember things when you get helplessly drunk.

Chapter Text

You hold Vicky’s body close to you as the sun glares at you two through the window, past the curtains. It makes the room a bit stuffy, and the smell of last night’s sex mixes with the smell of the sweat between her skin and your gooey physical presence.

She stirs, and you open your eyes against the sun to watch her turn to look at you with half lidded eyes and a calm smile.

“Morning Ozzy,” she murmurs, and you reach up slowly to brush her hair out of her face.

“Hey Vick.” You trace your fingers along the bolts on her neck and she shifts, groaning slightly as she rests her forehead on her shoulder.

She nuzzles against you and you pull her closer to you. “... Vick...”

“Hm?” She hums, brushing her lips against your neck. Your nerves tingle.

“Do you love me?”

She pauses, and pulls away slightly to look up at you. “... what do you mean?”

“I just….” You look away, unable to take those wide eyes staring at you. “I can’t tell if you’re just using me for sex anymore.”

She reaches up and cups your face in her cool hands so she can turn you to look at her. You can’t look away from her big eyes.

“Oz, I know we… I know our relationship got off to a questionable start.”

Your mind flickers back to that night, that agonizingly passionate night that made you think maybe, maybe , you could love someone as much as you wanted to, as much as you craved to. You’ve just been too afraid, too terrified to try loving- not after you’d seen what love had done to the people you cared about.

“That’s not a very good place to start an argument,” you murmur, leaning into the palms of her hands. She laughs softly, a quiet but genuine laugh, and you can nearly feel yourself melt. She’s so…

She cards her fingers through your hair, brushing it away from your eyes. “I know we got off to an interesting start, but I… I do love you.”

You stare at her before dropping your gaze again, and she runs her thumbs softly over your cheekbones. “Yeah, but… how am I supposed to know…”

“Supposed to know what?” She shifts to hold eye contact and you shift nervously.

“I don’t… know what it’s supposed to feel like. To be like.” Your voice is frail and it breaks in the middle of the sentence and you quickly duck your head, letting your forehead rest against her hair. Your throat hurts.

“You’ve… never had a romantic relationship before?” She sounds surprised, and yet… worried. Concerned. Like that’s bad. Is it bad? You don’t know anymore.

You shake your head, not trusting your voice to stay stable, and she cups your jaw in her hands. Your eyes close to hide from her look.

“Oh, Ozzy…” She murmurs, snaking your arms around you. You can feel yourself trembling, starting to lose what little grip you still had on your emotions. “I know I love you. You know why?”

You sniff, and don’t say anything.

“Because you’re still here with me. And I feel safe with you. Like I’m wanted.

“Like I belong.”

Something stirs in your chest and you crack your eyes open to look at her. She’s stunning in the sunlight, and you want to tell her, to make her feel… wanted , like she said. But you can’t say anything. It’s too caught in your throat.

So instead, you kiss her. It’s sudden, and you can feel her surprise in the way she tenses up in your arms, but she gives in quickly and kisses back. She tangles her fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, and for a split second, you feel it.

You feel like you belong here, in her arms, on a sunny Saturday morning.

You feel wanted by her.

You feel safe.

Chapter Text

You’d been Oz’s friend for years, and you know him better than you know anyone else.

So it… surprises you, to say the least, when he commits to staying in a relationship with Vicky, instead of just repetitive hookups like he’d said they were.

He’d always talked about how much he was afraid of that kind of commitment, because he wasn’t sure if he knew whether he liked the feeling of love, or… if he even knew what it was supposed to feel like. You had never intervened, or provided your input (not that you ever gave your input. On anything), but you’d always been concerned. You weren’t sure as to whether he was just afraid of love, or if he really didn’t understand it, or maybe it was a combination of both, but either way, it was wrong.

You sit next to him at lunch as he watches Vicky scheme with Polly and Vera about who-knows-what across the cafeteria. He looks calm, relaxed, less stressed than he had for a while, and it makes you curious.

“So I assume things are going well,” you finally say, poking at the food on your plate with an air of skepticism.

Oz looks at you, lowering his hands from where they were holding his chin up. “Huh?”

“With Vicky.” You set your spoon down and tuck your hands in your pockets, looking at him. “Last time we talked, you said you were worried things weren’t going to go well, but it seems to be fine now.”

“Oh.” He looks back at Vicky. “... yeah, things are going better than I expected.”

His voice is a bit solemn. You tilt your head. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

He straightens up quite suddenly. “I wasn’t saying it was a bad thing. I just…” He trails off.

“Was she understanding?”

He slouches slightly. “Painfully so.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“... she made me feel something.”

This takes you aback. It’s not that you were unhappy for Oz, no, you were overjoyed (not that you showed it. Ever). But… he seemed unhappy with it. With the way things had become. Unhappy with the fact he could feel what he’d craved for so long.

You can’t keep the shock out of your voice, and you worry it’ll scare him off. “Why is that a bad thing?”

“It’s not,” he says hurriedly, looking up at you and then looking away when he notices you staring. “It’s just… I wanna feel it again. I… think I crave it now.”

There’s a pause. “But?”

“... but I don’t know how to get it. I don’t know how to ask for it.”

You pick up a milk carton and open it, sniffing it. “That’s now how a relationship is meant to work.”

“... huh?”

You set it down. “The relationship is meant to work in both directions. She might take the sex as the thing she wants out of it, and you can get that feeling out of it. You’re allowed to ask for it. That’s how a relationship works.”

He stares at you, and eventually, you feel like you have no choice but to look back and away from your food. His eyes are bright and wide, and you wonder if he would be smiling, if he could.

“Brian,” he finally says, vice soft, like he just came down from some kind of high. “Do you love me?”

You count your lucky stars you weren’t eating, because you probably would’ve just died a second time had you been. “Uh-“

“Brian loves you?!” Vicky chirps, popping up on your other side. She looks excited, and it adds a feeling of nervousness on top of the vaguely embarrassed shock resting on your stomach.

You sputter. “I didn’t-“

Oz looks away suddenly, flushing. “Sorry, I just-“

“You could join us.” Vicky chirped latching onto your arm. Her voice is not lacking a seductive tone.

You don’t know how to respond. Oz perks up at the idea of you joining, and you decide you don’t have a choice.

“Uh… sure,” you agree with a slight frown, wondering what you’re getting yourself into.

Chapter Text

You don’t want to be here.

Vicky had dragged you to a party after school, and you weren’t sure how, but you definitely don’t want to be here. There’s too many people and you can’t find a place in the house to come from an anxiety high your skin yourself into. So you sit in the grass of the front yard and hyperventilate, shaking so hard you’re worried you’re going to fall apart and melt into a puddle in the grass.

You don’t realize someone has sat down beside you until you feel someone place a hand on your back, and you jump so hard you’re pretty sure you scared them too.

You look at them with wide eyes, leaning away, to see Brian sitting there and looking at you. His knees are pulled to his chest with one arm, and his other hand is still outstretched towards you. You relax slightly, but don’t move closer.

“Sorry,” you mutter, and he pulls his hand back, looking away and at the street.

“It’s okay,” he rumbles, voice soft and quiet. It’s calming, almost, but the alarm from him touching you didn’t ease your shaking one bit. If anything, you think you might be shaking harder.

You card a trembling hand through your hair, feeling like you’re about to start crying. You can’t take a deep breath, and your chest is tight and aching. Being here is just too much for you.

“Hey.” Brian speaks up after who knows how long, and you look up at him. He frowns at you, and you aren’t sure if you should be comforted or scared. You hold your breath.

“Can I touch you?”

You hesitate, staring at him. You know he wouldn’t hurt you, and yet there’s some part of you that seems to believe otherwise.

“Yeah,” you say in a frail voice. “Sure.”

He reaches out, and you eye his hand as it draws closer. He places it on your back and rubs small circles, and your shaking subsided a bit. It’s still there, but the physical comfort eases your nerves.

“D…” you start, but the noise dies in your throat. You swallow and try again. “Don’t you wanna be inside?” Your voice is shaking, and you duck your head to avoid his gaze, which has suddenly turned to look at you piercingly.

He hums after a moment and looks out at the street again, still rubbing your back slowly. It feels nice. “I’d rather be out here.”

You’re not sure if you believe him, but for the moment, you’re content to. You don’t want him to go away and leave you alone like this.

Thankfully, he doesn’t.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t your idea.

Vicky had insisted you and Oz join him to a party and when you tried to avoid it, she’d just whined and been more insistent. Oz was quick to give in, meaning you had been outvoted and you had no choice but to comply.

So now you’re here, wondering where Vicky and Oz have run off to. Part of you is worried Oz is drinking himself sick again, and the other part of you hopes he knows better than to do that this time.

Soon enough, Oz turns back up at your elbow with a juice box. You glance at him. “Find something to your liking?”

Oz nods. “They had juice boxes in the outside fridge.” He glances at the red cup in your hand. “You gonna drink that?”

You glance at it. “Probably not. I took it to humor whoever was behind the bar at the time.” Considering Polly is behind the bar now, it’s probably best you don’t ingest what’s in your hand.

Oz nods and sips from the juice box, the tip of the straw disappearing into his face as he sipped it. “Where’s Vicky?”

You glance around the downstairs. “Dunno. Ran off long about you did.” You inspect your drink again before setting it on a side table and tucking your hands into your pockets. “We should probably find her and start heading out soon though.”

“Have you looked upstairs?” He offers.

“Huh uh.”

“We should look then.”

You grunt in agreement and make your way up the steps, letting Oz take the lead. He seems to be comfortable with the idea of walking in on Vicky naked with another monster, which confuses you, but it’s probably simply happened often enough that Oz has gotten used to it.

The doors are all closed until the half shifted werewolf captain of the football team stumbles out of a room and runs into the door of another. You and Oz step out of the way as he blunders drunkenly down the stairs, and look at the door to see who he’d decided to fuck senseless this time.

But no one emerges.

Oz moves to the doorway first, but stiffens, and it sets off a red flag in your head. You bolt to his side, and your stomach sinks.

Vicky is curled up on the bed, blood and semen streaking what you can see of her legs. Upon closer inspection, it appears she’s quivering, and Oz rushes to her side to roll her onto her back and wrap her exposed body in the messy sheet she’s laying on. Her pupils are blown wide, under the influence of some horrific date-rape drug, and evidence of vomiting stains her lips.

“Vicky,” Oz breathes, and his voice is shaking just as badly as he is.

“We need to get her to a hospital,” you grunt. “Whatever they drugged her with was too strong.”

“What the fuck is going on.”

You turn to see Damien standing shirtless in the doorway, scowling. “Apparently drunk people running headfirst into doorways was a big fucking turn off for my partner, and currently the only likely culprits are you two.”

“Three,” you correct, glancing at Oz as he fumbles shakily with his phone.

“What?”

You step out of the way to reveal Vicky’s shaking figure, and any arousal color that was in his face is flushed out. He’s quick to push Oz aside in favor of taking her small hands in his. The touch is much more sentimental than it should be for a broken up couple, and you wonder if you should be jealous or relieved that he’s there.

“What. The hell. Happened.”

You consider the bumbling figure of the football captain. “No idea. We just found her like this.”

“Someone called 911!” Polly shrieks, making Oz flinch on his phone call. “Everyone, scatter!”

“We need to get her outside,” you insist, but before you can pick her up, Damien hoists Vicky up into his arms. She’s limp against him, and he looks a bit sick as he carries her downstairs. Oz follows, and you bring up the rear.

Polly is hanging around near the bar, counting a wad of cash. She straightens up when she sees you. “Clearly you don’t understand the meaning of ‘scatter’.”

Oz points to the phone, catching your eye, and you nod before he moves out to the front yard. Damien turns towards Polly, a fire lighting in his eyes. “What the fuck did you drug her with.”

Polly blinks, stopping her advancement, and inspects Vicky’s limp and quivering figure. “Oh, duuuude , I think she got a hold of the centaur tranquilizer that was floating around.”

You stiffen, and for a moment you see red, and the urge to tear the football captain apart limb from limb fucking overwhelms you-

Damien, not yet knowing who did it, looks alarmed. More alarmed than you’d ever seen him. “Isn’t that shit, like, deadly to anyone who isn’t a centaur?”

“Yeah, a’course. If it isn’t used in proper proportions.” Polly looks at Vicky again, and frowns as something seems to dawn on her. “How much has she had? She looks like she’s about to like, die. Not that I’m complaining if she did-”

“Someone drugged her,” you growl, lowly, and the silence that befalls the four of you is heavy. Suddenly Vicky hiccups and vomits up a mouthful of only god knows what onto herself and Damien. He wrinkles his nose, and you take her from his arms at his request.

“Oz is calling an ambulance,” you inform him, and he nods mutely as Polly hands him a rag to clean the vomit off with. Vicky twitches in your arms, and you hold her a bit tighter, hoping the twitching doesn’t turn into convulsing before help gets there.

Chapter Text

Convincing Vicky to get out of her house and come to school takes everything short of actually setting her house on fire to flush her out- which you end up threatening to do anyway. Ever since the party, you’ve been worried sick about her. Not even Brian could  ease the constant churning in your stomach. You haven’t eaten in days. It’s starting to take a toll on your energy, and you, too, struggle to get out of bed in the morning.

Things only get a bit better when you find Vicky standing in front of her house, waiting for you to walk with her to school. You’re happy she’s there, but she doesn’t look happy, so it’s not much of an improvement. She’s pale, and her arms are folded tightly over her chest, and your chest aches with the burning desire to pull her close and tell her it’ll be okay.

But something inside you knows that physical contact is the last thing she wants right now. So you keep your hands to yourself and walk in silence.

Damien, however, does not have that filter.

The moment you two step on school grounds, he pounces on you, as if he’d been waiting in the shadows for when you got there (which, if you had to be honest with yourself, probably wasn’t that far from the truth). He grips her tightly in a hug, and she tenses, before relaxing into a shaky but slouched position. You ignore the twinge of jealousy that aches in your gut.

Eventually he lets go of her in favor of holding her at arms length. “Glad to see you again, Vick.”

She smiles, but it’s frail, and you shift your weight. She doesn’t say anything.

“So, I was wondering…” Damien rubs the back of his neck, letting go of her arms. She takes a couple steps back, closer to you, and you step up to her side. “Do you wanna come with me to a party tonight? Since you’re back on your feet, and all-”

She tenses, and you can practically feel the panic radiating off of her. She doesn’t speak- she can’t , she’s too scared stiff- so you quickly interject.

“I think she’ll pass,” you say, and you thank every god you can think of that your voice isn’t shaking to show how nervous you are in standing up to Damien.

Damien blinks at you, and you’re worried you’re going to melt right to the ground under his flaming gaze. He glances at Vicky, who looks down silently, then back at you, before nodding.

“Yeah, alright. I get it. A little too soon, right?”

“... yeah.” You glance at Vicky. “Just a little.”

He nods, and for a split second you could’ve sworn a guilty look crossed his face, but it’s gone by the time you turn your head fully to try and get a good look. “Sorry… catch ya later then.” His voice lacks it’s usual luster, but he’s gone before you can pull him aside to talk to him- not that you really want to. Sure, you have things to say, but you suppose it’s better to keep them to yourself than to try and talk sense into Damien. If the time comes where he needs to know, then he’ll figure it out on his own. Simple as that.

Instead, you stay by Vicky’s side throughout the day. She doesn’t seem at all comfortable, but you know without her saying it that she’s happy you’re there with her. You know through personal experience that it makes things just a little bit easier.

Brian converges with you two at lunch, and most of the meal passes in silence. Vicky manages to work up the courage enough to lean against the zombie lightly. You and Brian both take it as an accomplishment. It’s better than nothing, you decide, and choose to leave it at that. No point in forcing help onto her when she doesn’t seem to need it at that moment.

Brian offers to walk her home, much to your distaste, but Vicky agrees with a nod and a small noise of consent.  You bite back a sigh and say nothing on it, instead going in to wish her a good night.

When Scott comes bounding up like the blundering idiot he is.

Vicky straightens up in alarm when the werewolf comes running over excitedly from across the field. “Hey Vicky! I heard you were back at school today and I wanted to say hi!”

Vicky is stiff and shaking, and Brian very carefully wraps an arm around her shoulders to turn her away. You move to stand between Vicky and Scott before he can move closer.

“Vicky’s had a bit of a long day,” you say, glancing over your shoulder to watch Vicky leave the school grounds with Brian, before looking back at Scott. “She needs to get home and get her rest.”

Scott looks a bit dejected and you wince. “Will she be better tomorrow…?”

You hesitate to answer. “... probably not.”

He sighs and nods. “Okay. Thanks for the talk anyway…” He turns to go join the rest of the football team, and you look away.

“Yeah… no problem.”

Chapter Text

You’re blind and shaking with rage, and the urge to dig your bare hands into some unsuspecting victim and tear all their guts out is so overwhelming that the kid sitting next to you is lucky he’s a ghost.

You quickly close out of the tab you’re looking at when you hear footsteps approaching, worried what monsters passing by would think you’re doing looking up… that .

“What’re you doing in the library?” Comes a familiar voice and you jump suddenly, whipping around to see Vera standing behind you with her arms folded. “Didn’t know you could read.”

This adds to your anger and you full on shudder. You grit your teeth. “I can read just fucking fine.”

“Whoa, dude, what’s got you so worked up?” Polly pops up from behind Vera, as sober as you’ve seen her in a few weeks (after her last failed tweet, she’d been pretty hammered, but she seems to have cooled down a bit).

You glance back at the computer, and the little web surfing symbol flashing to symbolize it still had a window pulled up.

“What were you looking at?” Vera bends over at the waist to look over your shoulder at the computer.

You stiffen and reach for the mouse. “Nothing.”

“I wanna see!” Polly grabs the mouse faster than you could fumble and find it and pulls up the webpage, plainly titled ‘Effects Rape Can Have On A Victim’.

The silence that falls across them is heavy and you look away from the computer. You don’t wanna read any more.

“... why are you looking at this?” Vera looks at you with narrowed eyes. “You didn’t-“

“No!” You snap, and the flashing anger is back. It takes more effort to keep from punching her than it would to punch her. “I just-“

“Is this about Vicky?” Polly asks, her voice uncharacteristically soft, and you wince.

“... y-yeah…?”

“Whoa, wait, what happened to Vicky?” Vera asks suddenly. “Does this have-.... something to do with why she’s been…” Something seems to dawn on her.

You feel sick to your stomach and you reach through Polly’s hand to close out of the webpage. “I was just… looking for an explanation.”

“To why she’s been acting differently,” Vera states.

You nod. “I invited her to a party and she- well, she didn’t say anything, Oz jumped in before she could, and I… it was such a change in…”

You’re fumbling for words and emotions are fighting to the utter death in your chest. You don’t want to be sad, but it’s so agonizingly painful to see someone as bright as Vicky fall so hard, so you try to cover it up with anger, but you’re not angry at her, no, you could never be mad at her. You’re mad at whoever-

“Do you know who did it?” Polly asks, and you pause.

“... no, I never figured it out-“

“Who would know?” Vera muses.

You consider this before standing up suddenly and storming out of the library. Anger has swelled in your chest again, covering up the stabbing ache just enough that you can move without wanting to scream.

“Wait, Damien! Where are you going?” Polly asks from further behind you.

“To ask someone who knows.”

You find Oz sitting alone, and you assume he’d met up with the Coven before they ran off to ‘save the world’ or some shit. You count your lucky stars Brian isn’t with him- before realizing Brian might be with Vicky, and you think this might be jealousy which is a weird feeling because you’ve always just gotten what you wanted-

“Hey Damien.”

The squirt doesn’t seem as afraid of you as he used to be, which is a bit of a comfort. You suppose that since you’ve both dated Vicky, there must be some sort of solidarity there- a shared feeling of responsibility for her safety that you both so miserably failed -

Vera shows up at your side, visibly out of breath. Oz looks up from his food with a frown. “Vera, Polly…” he greets hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

“We wanna know who raped Vicky,” Polly says with way too excitement, and you growl a bit.

Oz looks taken aback, and somewhat sick. “Uh… I-I…”

“If you don’t know, then just say so,” Vera says calmly, doing very poorly at making it seem like you three won’t hurt him if he doesn’t answer. “And refer us to someone who does.”

Oz glances around, looking over the cafeteria, before setting his fork down. “I… know. But you can’t say anything.”

“Why the hell not?” You growl, your muscles on fire as you stand tense in front of him.

“It’ll upset her. I don’t-I don’t think she wants the guy getting hurt-“

“Well then he shouldn’t have done what he did. Who. Was it.”

He shifts. “It was the… football captain.”

Something inside you snaps and you roar in anger, turning to try and punch Vera. She steps to the side, but you’re off, letting out your anger on any monster that gets even remotely in your way.

You’re pissed . You don’t think you’ve ever been so mad before, so absolutely livid over something. You barely even register what you’re doing, or the fact you’re doing this over someone you aren’t supposed to care about anymore- that’s why you broke up with her in the first place, right?- but now that she’s gotten hurt, all because she wasn’t in a bed with you, and you weren’t there to protect her-

Someone is grabbing you and the anger subsides, once again giving way to the overwhelming ache that you think is sadness. You turn to look at Vera with wide eyes. She looks calm, collected, but you can tell she’s just as upset as you are.

“We’ll take care of it, Damien,” she promises, and your taut muscles relax. You look away. Part of you wants to punch her for thinking you need help in dealing with this- you know exactly how you want to take revenge- but she’s your friend. She’s trying to help. She wants to take revenge with you.

So you don’t punch her in the face.

No matter how much you kinda want to anyway.

Chapter Text

You lay curled up on your bed on a Saturday morning, a long night of nightmares leaving dark circles under your eyes. You can’t see them (you refuse to get up and look at yourself in a mirror) but you know they’re there. You can practically feel them.

You ignore the buzzing of your phone as you switch through channels on the TV in your room. You’ve been scrolling mindlessly for hours now- well before the sun had come up- but nothing had caught your eye. You’re fine with this though. It just helps distract you from everything you wanted to not think about.

You flip past a channel before you register what’s on it, and then pause. You aren’t sure what it was you saw, but it caught your eye, and you hesitate over the ‘back’ button. You don’t want to switch to something you don’t want to see.

Eventually, your curiosity gets the best of you and you click the button-

-to see Damien being forced into a police car. You jerk into a sitting position, watching him struggle against the weaker police in his attempts to get out of going to jail again.

Behind him is a myriad of firefighters trying to put out a house fire. Vera, Polly and Oz are standing on the sidewalk next to a reporter, watching as the roof caves in and there’s an audible howl of pain from inside. It’s cut short quite quickly, and you wonder who…

The camera zooms in on the four monsters standing on the sidewalk. Your eyes are glued to the screen.

“Do you know anything about what happened here today?” The reporter asks.

Vera looks calm and collected, being the best liar out of all of them. “I had been following Damien because he’d been acting suspicious the past few days, but I wasn’t able to stop him before he destroyed the house.”

Oz shifts a little towards the microphone, looking nervous. You want to be there and help calm him down from the panic attack he looks like he’s about to melt down into. “One of his friends was raped recently, and I heard he’d been enacting a revenge plot, but no one took him seriously…”

You can see Damien staring at the camera as he’s driven away from the scene, and for a moment, you think- you hope - he’s looking straight at you.

But that’s crazy, right?

“A rape case?” The anchor asks, diverting your attention from where Damien has disappeared to.

“Yeah,” Polly says sadly. You’re not sure whether she’s acting or not. “We’ve been trying to get the victim to go to the police, but they’re too afraid. Damien probably wanted to remove the threat they thought was still there.”

A large figure is brought out of the house, a smoldering blanket draped over them. You shift uncomfortably, but upon closer inspection, it looks like they aren’t moving.

For a moment, your elated by the thought of him being dead.

Your phone buzzes and you sit up a bit straighter, teaching across your bed to grab it.

Green: Did you see the news?

Blue: Yeah

Blue: I just saw

Blue: Do you know what’s going on?

Green: I have an idea

Green: Meet me at the ice cream parlor

Green: I’ll tell you while we wait for Damien’s dad to get him outta jail

Blue: Right

You stare at your phone before scrambling to get some clothes on. You’re shaking a bit at the thought of… Well, you aren’t sure. You don’t want to make any conclusions yet- maybe this was a coincidence- but maybe…

Brian is already there when you get there, and he hands you a chocolate milkshake. You take it in your shaking hands and bite down on the straw, looking up at him expectantly.

“So.” He starts before taking a sip of his own drink. He’s watching the jail down the street, which now has a flaming carriage parked in front of it. You feel pity for the people inside the jail.

“Damien got wind of who-“

“I assumed as much,” you interject, and he looks at you. You can sense some surprise coming off of him- you can’t remember the last time you’d said anything to him- but he relaxes a bit. Neither of you wanted to bring it up, so you didn’t.

“Was he rendered dead?”

Brian considers this. “I didn’t wait around to check.”

You nod and look back at the jailhouse. Damien is being dragged out by an angry looking demon by his one horn, cursing and wrestling against him to try and get out of the grip. In his struggling, Damien makes eye contact with you, and you wave shyly.

With some newfound power, he kicks the demon holding him and bolts down the sidewalk. The man starts after him, seeming to consider following, before deciding it’s not worth it, and stepping into the carriage.

Damien cuts across the street and stops next to you, out of breath.

“Hey,” you say past the straw in your mouth and he grins.

“I assume you saw the news story.”

You nod and offer him the milkshake. He takes it. “Did the others know?”

He nods. “I had them give the reporter a good alibi.” He takes a sip before giving it back to you. He seems to take note of how badly your hands are shaking, and you look away.

“Hey.”

His voice is uncharacteristically soft, and you look up at him. He holds his arms out, and you stare for a moment, before moving forward and wrapping your arms around him faster than he can register.

He stumbles a bit before hugging you back, squeezing you slightly. You don’t realize you’re crying relieved tears until he reaches up with one hand and brushes them from your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you whisper, shaking so badly you don’t know how you’re still standing, and he holds you a bit tighter.

“Don’t mention it.” His voice is low, quiet, like the way he used to talk to you when you’d cry after the dog died in movies.

“Vicky!” Someone calls, and you lift your head to see Oz, Polly and Vera running towards you. You wipe your face on your forearm and Damien releases you so Oz can wrap his arms around you tightly instead. You laugh softly.

“It’s good to see you too,” you breathe, stroking his hair to try and calm down his panicked shaking.

He pulls away and looks at you with wide eyes. “Are you okay?” He asks, out of breath, as he brushes his knuckles against your still wet cheeks.

“I’m good.” You nod, sniffing. “Better than I was.”

“Sweet,” Polly says with a grin, and Vera nods.

“You guys didn’t have to-“ You start.

“Of course we did!” Damien cries. “Fucker had it coming.”

You hold a bit tighter onto Oz, smiling as you decide that things are gonna be okay.