Chapter Text
The unpleasant texture of the roof tiles, though familiar to you, always had you shifting in your seating position atop the roof. Sitting up here and watching the sky was something that used to make you feel calm, lifting any weight from your shoulders and clearing your mind.
You sighed and stubbed out your cigarette next to you- you had long since forgotten it and wasted the damn thing while worrying your mind.
What was the point of sitting up here and stressing yourself out more? You knew things were getting rocky between you and your partner, what was there to contemplate at all?
Your eyes wandered to the horizon.
The sun was just rising, peeking out behind white clouds and casting a shadow down from a mountainous area, one that had always piqued your curiosity, with how it seemed to be a bustling village with tall structures you couldn't quite identify stretching above the trees and up to the sky
Maybe an adventure would clear your mind.
With little caution you stood from your spot - deciding to take your cigarette butt with you to toss in the bin inside - and climbed your way back down from the roof, slipping in through the window you used to get out and sliding it shut.
“Damn.” You sighed, having for a moment forgotten how nice the heated inside was compared to the biting chill of the outdoors. It had you stuck in your spot for a moment just appreciating the comfort before you continued on, down the stairs.
“(Y/N)?” Your partner spoke up, seemingly surprised to see you inside. Made sense, though, your roof time usually lasted until you began to see purple hues hinting in your fingertips, or until the weather pissed you off enough to send you inside, and right now neither of those things had happened. “Listen, (Y/N), I’m really sorry about what I said...everything.” They swore, moving to stand from their seat in the living room, following behind you as you entered the kitchen to throw away the trash in your hand.
“Are you sorry?” You asked them, reaching for a lighter that had been thrown onto the counter and probably forgotten about for a while, waiting for use. “This keeps happening, Chip, every single time.”
They cringed at that point as you lit up a cigarette now held between your fingers, speaking while you were busy taking a drag.
“But I mean it, I really am sorry! I mean it every time, (Y/N).”
What a damn lie.
“If you meant it, it wouldn’t keep fucking happening.” The words left your mouth in a hiss, you taking a step back as you saw Chip’s expression shift to frustration.
“Well maybe if you believed me, things would be better. You always just run away to the roof or your bedroom instead of trying to resolve shit, and I’m tired of it!”
Now that pissed you off, an angry huff blowing out the smoke from your lungs. “I don’t want to resolve things? Maybe I would if you stopped fucking getting into my shit and drinking so much! Maybe I’d stop hiding from you if you were a decent damn person because every damn time we argue you start to get physical!” You shouted, gripping your lighter in your hand so hard your knuckles paled, feeling your heart begin to race.
They seemed just as worked up as you now, body tense and expression scarily calm, even if you could notice the rage bubbling up beneath it.
“Oh shut up! Always about the alcohol-”
“I’ve been trying to help you-!”
The two of you started yelling over each other, blood boiling.
They were the issue, you knew it, and you had been trying so hard to help them with their addiction, as they were with yours, it was starting to push your limit with how bad they were turning out to be, drunk or not.
You wanted to go to your younger self and slap some sense into him when he thought it was a good idea to rebel and date the person that was an obvious red flag.
“If you hate it so much, fucking LEAVE!” They shouted, pushing you harshly in the chest and back against the counter, the force and volume snapping you out of your train of thought and sending your brain into a panic.
They’d gotten violent before, much worse than this, but you were tired of putting up with this shit.
“Fine!” You screamed in their face, flicking your cig and grinding it under your shoe and immediately leaving the room, wanting as much distance between you as possible.
Not being an idiot, you went to your room instead of running out into the cold with nothing.
Well, here was your damn adventure.
Profanities and insults quietly slipped between your teeth as you worked quickly to shove things into bags; clothes, belongings from sentimental to essential, self defence apparatus, even some food you had already stashed away beforehand.
No way in hell you were going back down there with them, they were probably waiting for you to pull more bullshit out of their ass, or possibly to hurt you.
Back out the window it was, you guessed, tightening up the laces of your boots and shoving the lighter from beforehand in your pocket with your pack of cigs. You worked the window open with practiced ease, but once you slipped outside, you closed it behind you and carefully observed the side of the house from the small overhead roof you stood on- you were only used to climbing up, not down, so it took a while before you had a game plan and carefully made your way to the ground.
Your feet met the ground at the last little leap with a thud, muffled by the snow. You couldn’t take the car, they’d hear it and force their way in before you even left the driveway.
So, with your fate decided, you adjusted your warm clothes to cover you a little better, and walked in the direction of that strange place. There was no way it was abandoned with how much you’d seen from it, even from so far away, hopefully you might find safety there, away from Chip.
Cops were no use, and your closest neighbors wouldn’t hear a thing if they dared try to do worse than they already had.
This was your last option, your last glimpse of safety.
Oh, how wrong you were.
The entire trip was grueling, you had underestimated how thick the brush would be since you hadn’t wandered this far before, and your phone lost service because of this. You had contemplated turning back multiple times, but every time you stopped and went to look back, it dawned upon you that it was much too late for that. You’d end up lost and dead long before you found your way through this hellscape of trees and tall plants, your best hope was pushing on in the direction you were heading and finding this village.
And the entire time, you kept reminding yourself of how utterly stupid this was, not that you would forget, but instead because you feared your mind would run wild with terrifying thoughts and scenarios of some unfortunate fate befalling you, out here alone in the woods, where no one would even know.
That was the main thing motivating you to push on.
Red was creeping onto your face and fingers from the cold, it was starting to get to you even if you were bundled up. Arms crossed tight to your chest, hands tucked under them for warmth, and shivering like a madman, you cursed quietly into your scarf, swearing that this was the dumbest shit you’d ever done just seconds before you began to notice that the woods was now becoming less dense and whether that meant a clearing, or civilization nearby, you didn’t care, either one would be like winning the lottery to you at this point.
That was, of course, what you were thinking when you saw what appeared to be a manmade structure in the distance, just moments before you stepped on and triggered a bear trap, hidden under plant life, and even more covered by the snow.
“FUCK!” You cried out as the metal teeth clamped down onto your leg, digging into your flesh even through your boots and pants, pain erupting from the fresh wound. You felt your throat tighten and your eyes burn as tears immediately formed in your eyes, and strangled curses and screams of pains erupted out into the open air of the clearing- it only got worse as you fell to your knees and tried desperately to yank it open, cursing and begging as your gloved hands slipped from the surface multiple times during your attempts at freedom.
Blood was soaking your leg and your clothes, sticking to your skin in an uncomfortable way that you’d likely be complaining about if you weren’t so focused on freeing yourself.
The sound of multiple fast approaching footsteps didn’t seem to find you as you tugged and sobbed, watching helplessly as you bled onto the ground, staining the snow around you and smearing across your gloves as you begged for mercy, babbling and stuttering helplessly as a pair of strong hands pulled yours away from the contraption and a voice tried to soothe you over the sound of a distant ringing in your ears and your own crying.
Three others worked to re-set the trap to free your now brutally injured leg, red hot pain searing up through your body as they held you in place to keep you from struggling and hurting yourself more. These people knew what they were doing, but you clearly didn’t and they could tell, so during the entire ordeal the person holding you back was trying to calm you and explain things, having you bite down into the bunched up fabric of your scarf, but whatever else they tried to tell you usually fell upon deaf, terrified ears.
The entire process, though only taking a minute or so, felt like it took ages, it never crossed your mind at all that these were definitely inhabitants of the town you’d only seen from a distance up until now, and you weren’t going to die alone in the forest.
Shortly after your leg was freed, you were rushed away, lifted up and being carried likely to somewhere safer- hopefully, warmer too, as the cold was now starting to return as adrenaline began to die down, your vision blurry and your mind tired and lost, soundlessly sobbing as you drifted into an unconscious state.
When you awoke, you had half convinced yourself it was some nightmare only moments before you heard a voice you didn’t know and were surrounded by smells similarly foreign to you as well.
Pain throbbed through your leg, which you didn’t even want to try and move, and your head ached from your crying- any pain from the bruise on your back was nothing compared to what you had just endured, and for a while, you still kind of hoped this was part of a fucked up dream, even if it meant you were back stuck with Chip.
Your eyelids felt like they weighed hundreds of pounds, and you didn’t even want to open them anyways, so you laid there for a while, running through these events in your mind, taking this resting moment to comprehend all of it.
A quiet conversation started up nearby, and being you, you listened in, one gentler voice and one that was a little more rugged, but had a warmer undertone.
“We should tell Mother Miranda, outsiders don’t come here often.” The first voice reasoned, referencing someone that, to you, sounded either like a religious or parental figure of some sort judging by the title.
“Of course we will, but let the boy rest first, he almost broke something just while trying to escape a trap that already snapped on him.” This second voice said back to the first, a stab of pain that made you wince and whimper coming from your leg as you were reminded of the experience.
You had really struggled that much? You always knew the things were dangerous, but you’d never heard what could happen if it snapped on someone’s leg.
They seemed to hear your sound of pain, despite it being so quiet you swore it barely even came out at all, and came to your side, one set of hands coming to gently shake your arm, the first voice asking if you were awake, to which you responded with a soft hum of pain, eyelids finally cracking open.
The hands were those of a kind, but intelligent-looking man, his getup looking like he was some sort of doctor- and the second voice likely came from the other person, an older man with a stronger look to him, a beard on his face with grey hairs strewn about in it.
They looked friendly enough, and you could presume that they were part of why you were still alive, but you weren’t going to trust them right off the bat.
“Oh, thank The Mother, I was worried about you. That bear trap had you losing a lot of blood.”
Without sitting up, you looked to your leg as it was mentioned once more, seeing your boot and sock had been removed, and your pant leg was cut off above your now wrapped and treated wound, but blood still remained on some of your clothes as small dark droplets of stains.
Jesus fuck. You almost lost your damn leg.
Your eyes turned back to the person you assumed was the doctor as he spoke again, asking how it felt, getting a single word answer of ‘bad’ from you, and as he continued with other questions, he continued getting similarly dry answers.
Sure, you were out of it from just losing a bunch of blood and being in tons of pain, but also you didn’t know these people well, and you were trying to gauge how they would act around you and how you should react.
When you received a certain question, though, you paused and thought about it.
“What’s your name, son?” The older man had asked you, and you had already just thought about answering with some petty ‘none of your business’ reply, but you decided against it.
These people had saved you after all, and you had nowhere else to go, and you weren’t going anywhere with your leg like this, so you finally let up and gave them a good reply.
“The name’s (Y/N).”
The man grinned and gave your hand a firm, friendly shake.
“Welcome to our humble village then, (Y/N).”