Chapter Text
Black did genuinely consider using an axe to free them. Being stuck to fucking Sean right after he tricked him into admitting that White existed made him want to gnaw his hand off with his teeth. What Sean did was smart. It was a smart plan, a great strategy, Black wanted to strangle him for doing it and he’ll die before giving Sean any sort of compliment. But fuck it, fine, he can know Black has a brother but he’s not getting a name. That’s Sean’s problem, he’ll have to deal with it himself.
Then when his hand is severed and he is free he will run as fast as he possibly can away from this fucking hideout. With Gumpa and his magical bullshit way of finding him, and Sean with his stupid fucking all-encompassing dedication to White, and Yok and his stupid fucking mysterious guy, and before Gram shows up and takes one look at him with his disgustingly sincere eyes and asks Black what’s going on.
Because Black wouldn’t be able to take it. He can take being put in a coma by his former friend. He can take waking up from that coma months later to find out that his brother, his identical twin brother, has returned from Russia after ten years of no contact. And then only hours later find that said twin, said twin whom he shares a supernatural bond with, has on the request of the aforementioned former friend been impersonating Black to “figure out” who it was that hurt Black. He can take it and everything that came after that. The betrayal, the beatings, the fucked relationship with Sean, the drugging and subsequent drowning attempt, the pushing away his only brother for his safety. All of it. He can take it, it’s fine. Black’s life has been hell for much longer than that.
But if one more fucking person shows any sign of care for him, and he knows Gram will, he might just break.
Because seeing and hearing and being able to touch White after ten fucking years and know that he still cares, still cares about his violent, volatile, good-for-nothing big brother, hurt. Because in that same moment he knew that the few people Black called friends now know that Black is the defect. There is a better version of him, that can show them care and comfort and companionship, someone Yok doesn’t want to fight the moment they’re in the same room and someone Sean, fucking Sean, could find love and even a meaning to live in.
So he does not want to know what Gram found. He doesn’t want to know what changed with White’s meddling. He doesn't want to know what non-existent part of him Gram now expects to be there. Because Black liked what he had with Gram.
Gram is his best friend. He’s nice and considerate and sometimes a bit too soft but that’s what made him Gram. That’s what made him perfect for Black. Because only someone with that much love and patience could put up with Black’s cold and uncaring personality.
Someone Black gets paired up with during a project in high school, right after his first fall out with Todd, and manages to break through enough of his walls and squirm under his skin so much so that he forces a genuine laugh out of Black, the first in months. And at the same time prove that he shares the same ethics and beliefs as Black, even though he’s just some kid from an upper-middle-class family. No particular trauma, just the same resolve.
Gram is someone Black wants to get to know, and he does and in turn, Gram gets to know him, and he stays.
Someone he picks college and major with. Someone he gets to share most classes with.
Someone who forces him out of his shell enough to make acquaintance with Nuch and Yok and Sean. Someone who introduces him to Eugene.
Someone he teaches how to ride a motorbike. Gram kept pestering him with looks and offhand comments about how cool it is that Black can ride one or how much fun they could have if he also knew how. So Black teaches Gram what freedom is to him.
Someone who opens up his home, no questions asked, when Black suddenly found himself without one.
Someone who, when Black finally gets his own place, buys him two toy dinosaurs with knitted hats that have their initials on them, Gram’s and his. Because he apparently thinks that Black is leaning too much into his bad-boy persona, and something has to be enough of an eyesore to make it seem that Black has more than two personality traits; that being mean and spiteful. He knows it’s because the toys are cute and Gram likes cute things and thinks it would be funny to have something cute in Black’s barren, badly lit, grunge apartment. He gives Gram shit for being a childish sap, Gram gives him shit for being a YA book stereotype. The figures stay on his bedside table and haven’t been moved since they were put there.
Gram is someone he doesn't tell about White.
Someone he doesn’t tell about the suicide mission.
Someone who comforts him when he shows up drunk and heartbroken, allegedly because of his break up with Eugene, even though Black was the one who broke up with her. He doesn’t tell Gram that though, Eugene will, probably. They’re friends, they were friends before Black and they will still be friends after he’s gone. They’ll have each other, that should be enough. No, Black is not here because of the breakup. Black is here because tomorrow he’s going to disappear and in two days it’s do or die for him. So he got drunk, liquid courage should be able to flush out all fears he has about the mission. Any anxiety about it going wrong and dying needs to disappear, he’s never cared about his own life before and he’s not about to start now. Now would be the worst time to start caring. He also needed to tell Gram that he would be gone. He told Eugene to forget about him and he told Gumpa that he was going away and didn’t know when he would be back. Now he just needs to tell Gram. But it’s hard to tell anyone anything when tears are running down your face and the pain and lightheadedness of not getting enough air into your lungs because you’re sobbing so hard it’s overwhelming any thought or plan. Gram is trying his best to squeeze the broken pieces of Black back together again by hugging him so tight, so tight that it’s even harder to get oxygen into his air-deprived lungs. But the soothing words coming from Gram about how Black is safe and he’s going to be okay feel more like a slap to the face rather than the balm to Black’s broken soul they were supposed to be. They fall asleep like that, with Black in a half-fetal position cradled in Gram’s arms. He wakes up sometime in the middle of the night, half too hungover and groggy, he detangles himself from Gram, lets himself out, re-hides the key in the potted plant outside after locking the door, and leaves. He never managed to say goodbye to Gram.
And then he got beat into a coma.
And now he’s here, having a glaring match with Sean and about to find out if throwing him over the railing will make gravity release Black from these god-forsaken handcuffs. Or maybe it will just drag Black over the edge too, but at least it would get him out of this situation and take Sean down with him. No Black or Sean equals no reason for involvement in criminal activity for White. It’s a win-win situation if you ask Black.
But before anybody could be thrown from fatal heights there was the click of a door opening, voices talking in the other room, the sound of grocery bags changing hands and then Gram stood in front of Black. For the first time in months, Black sees his best friend. Gram doesn’t know that, however. To him, he saw Black yesterday when White saved Sean. Black almost wishes that was true.
Gram just stares at him for a bit, with no discernible emotion on his face. Then he looks at Sean. Then at the handcuffs connecting them. Then he sighs deeply like he’s disappointed, rolls his eyes, and says, “Figures the keys falling from the sky had something to do with us.” and pulls the keys that Sean threw away out of his pocket.
See? See, this is why Gram is an angel. An angel sent to save Black from an eternity handcuffed to Sean.
But before Gram can save him from captivity, Sean snatches the keys out of his hand, quickly unlocks his side of the cuffs, drops the key and runs out the door.
It takes Black half a second to realize where he’s going, or rather, who he’s going to look for.
“Sean, you fucking bitch come back here!” Black shouted as he tried to lunge himself after Sean, but Gram’s soft but firm hold on his wrist stopped him. Any other day Black could have brute-forced his way after Sean, no sweat, but he was exhausted. A bit more than forty-eight hours after waking up from a coma and less than twenty-four hours since someone tried to drown him, with no sleep in between, was starting to catch up to him. Spite could only take a person so far.
Black kept glaring at the entrance Sean left through. Like it would resummon him to the room but handcuffed to a piece of the building so he couldn’t run after White. And preferably, like, on fire, just for Black’s amusement.
He could see from the corner of his eye Gram bending down, keeping his hold on Black’s wrist, to pick up the key to the handcuffs. He could feel his cuffed arm being slightly moved around and then the grip on his wrist tightening a fraction and feather-light breathing against his fingers.
Then came the click of finally being freed.
Gram wasn’t letting go of him.
Black whipped around to ask Gram what he was fucking playing at. That was a mistake. Because waiting there in Gram’s eyes, on his slightly frowning face, was the thing that Black had wanted to avoid with his whole fucking being. The one thing he just couldn’t take right now.
“Why do you smell like chlorine?”
Concern.
Concern from Gram nonetheless.
Warning bells and alarms were going off. He needed to get out, get out, run, now, now!
He ripped his arm out of Gram’s hold and bolted towards the exit. He was so close to getting out but suddenly Yok was in the entrance breathing heavily, looking backward with a frown on his face, guess he was trying to catch up to Sean. Well Yok, you’re in the fucking way. Black puts his whole weight in to throwing Yok out of the way so he could get the fuck out of here. He could hear Yok’s body hitting the concrete wall with a solid thud, with a subsequent string of curses thrown Black’s way. Along with the curses came a, “Where are you going?!” from Gumpa and a, “What’s going on?!” from Yok’s guy . However the most annoying, most terrifying thing was that Black could also hear another pair of running footsteps and several shouts of “Black!” and “Wait!”.
Of course Gram was going to run after him.
Fuck
.