Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rusty’s eyes flicked open and closed; they had been doing this for a while now. He didn’t know exactly where he was, but all he knew was that it was bright. Was he in heaven? No, that can’t be it. God probably would have woken him up with his Holy Alarm Clock if he were in heaven. Soon enough, his eyes flicked wide open. He squinted a little since it took a minute to adjust to the light. Was he in…a hospital room? He looked around to assess his surroundings fully.

The room had light yellow walls with grey linoleum floors. To the right was a large window with a darkish green window seat. In front of him was a flat-screen TV with a shelf below it and to his left were two doors. One probably leading outside and the other leading to the bathroom. He noticed that someone had positioned a few chairs facing him on his right. That's when he saw the several machines he was hooked up to. There was an IVonn his wrist, a feeding tube up his nose, and a ventilator mask around his mouth.

Rusty was now mentally freaking out. What had happened before he got here? More importantly, why was he here? When he was in the hospital, it was usually for reasons he knew about. What kind of accident could have happened to him? Questions raced through his mind until there was a knock at the door. A nurse walked in and noticed Rusty was awake and went to get a doctor. Rusty just continued to lay there. Entirely and utterly confused about what was even going on.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A day had passed by. The doctor had done a few tests on Rusty to ensure he wasn’t brain damaged or anything serious. Rusty’s brain was fine, so he passed with flying colors. He had been in a medically-induced coma after some sort of injury. To be honest, he didn’t catch all of the explanations. He was trying to comprehend everything. He was able to get his feeding tube and ventilator off since he could eat and breathe on his own. He broke both his legs and his left hand in the said accident. He still didn’t know what the accident was or how he got in it. It must’ve been rough, though.

So there he was, sitting in his hospital bed, trying to remember exactly what could have caused him to wind up here when there was a knock at the door.

“Mr. Rustin McCoy,” a voice said, “you have some visitors!”

“They can come in,” Rusty said in a low voice. The door opened, and Rusty’s brothers, Dustin and Franklin, came in. Along with the triplets Rocky, Rocco, and Roxanne, from across the street. Well, at least some people missed him. Dustin was the first to rush up to Rusty, being the protective older brother of the McCoy siblings. He grabbed Rusty’s hands and checked him for any sign of harm.

“Rusty!” he exclaimed, “How are you? Do you feel okay? Are they treating you well here? Have you been getting enough to eat? Are you in any pain?” Dustin seemed to spout a million questions before he realized that Rusty wasn’t responding. That majorly freaked Dustin out. “Oh god! I think he has a brain injury! Rusty, can you talk? Blink twice if you need help!”

“Dustin! Get off him!” Franklin, or as he was more commonly known Flat-Top, commanded, “You’re probably freaking the poor kid out!” Dustin backed off and straightened out his blue flannel. Franklin came to Rusty’s side in what was supposed to be a comforting manner.

“Hey Rusty, you doing okay, dude?”

“I-I’m fine.” Rusty sighed, “Could be better, though.” Franklin gave a quick nod and gesture to Dustin to show him Rusty was, in fact, alright.

“Well, obviously, you could be better!” Rocky said while messing with whatever he could find in the room.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t expect someone in a coma for a whole week to be a total live wire!” Roxanne exclaimed as she looked out the window. A week! He was asleep for a whole week!

“Wow, how long was I gone?” Rusty asked, a little dizzy.

“About seven full days,” Franklin explained, holding Rusty’s broken hand, “Dustin and Poppa were distraught for all of them!”

“Oh, I can’t be concerned for my little brother now?” Dustin asked, tilting Rusty’s head to check for more injuries. Rusty did not appreciate being manhandled like this.

“You were practically making funeral arrangements for him!” Franklin retorted.

“It’s good to be prepared!” Dustin snapped back.

“Where’s Poppa?” Rusty asked.

“Oh, he’s at the rink; he had some business stuff to deal with, y’know.” Franklin explained, “Especially after that big crash you were in.”

“Crash? I was in a crash!” Rusty exclaimed.

“Yeah, don’t you remember?” Rocco asked while trying to work the TV. “Man, that thing was not kind to you!”

“I don’t remember being in one.” Rusty sighed.

“You were!” Dustin exclaimed, “Greaseball, Electra, and…the other one was in it too!”

“Who?” Rusty asked.

“Right. Greyson and well…Electra were in it.” Franklin explained, “Basically, what happened is that you all were roller racing, and you all somehow had this huge-ass crash. Lots of broken bones and shit. Dinah and Pearl are okay, but you three were hurt the most.”

Rusty nodded and asked, “How did I end up in a coma? Did I hit my head in the crash?”

“Ah no, I think you were so high on adrenaline that you thought you could skate on two broken legs. So you fell over and got a concussion.” Franklin explained.

"I think that also counts as hitting his head in the crash, Frank." Rocco sighed

“Oh, okay…” Rusty said, “thanks for visiting me.”

“Anytime, Rust-Boy!” Franklin exclaimed, patting him on the back a little too hard. Much to Dustin’s annoyance.

“Of course! What family would we be if we didn’t come to see you!” Dustin said.

“Yeah, and we aren’t family, but we care about you!” Roxanne said.

“We do! You’ll be able to walk this off in no time!” Rocky exclaimed.

“I was told there were free snacks, so I came, but feel better, Rusty!” Rocco exclaimed.

“Thanks, guys,” Rusty said. There was still one more question on his mind. “Hey, Dustin…who caused the crash?”

They all looked around nervously, trying to find an answer. Much to Rusty’s confusion. Franklin finally spoke up.

“It was….C.B, he caused you, your partners, and the others to crash.”

That’s when Rusty’s heart shattered into a million pieces.

Chapter Text

“Y’know, I heard that Electra got it the worst out of all four of you,” Poppa said, smoking a cigar.

Three days had passed since Rusty got hospitalized. He was released yesterday. His legs would take six weeks to heal, and his hand would take only two weeks. Poppa and his brothers were helping him out with things like moving around in his wheelchair since he couldn’t push himself with a lousy hand. Rusty didn’t like this. It made him feel like some older person who couldn’t take care of themself, especially when Dustin pushed him as he was protective of Rusty nowadays—panicking over anything that could hurt him.

Now, he and Poppa had the early evening alone. They decided to relax on the porch after dinner and spend some time with each other. It was a lovely summer day. The sky was going to reach sunset soon, and a nice breeze swept through the air. Their neighborhood was just starting to wind down after a long day, with elderly couples resting on their porches, children finishing their water balloon fights, and some teenagers heading to the local pool for a late-night swim. It was all so perfect. There was just one thing; Rusty couldn’t get his mind off of C.B. He felt hurt by him. He promised to always stick with him, keep him out of trouble, and ensure he didn’t get hurt. He had broken all three of those promises. He felt betrayed. Because of C.B, he had a bunch of injuries and feelings of betrayal. He just pretended he was alright.

“Oh? What happened to them?” Rusty asked.

“From what I heard, they were in a full-body cast.” Poppa explained, “I’m not sure if that's true, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it were. It looked like they got hurt pretty badly. ”

“Oh…that's sad,” Rusty said, looking down at his casted legs. They had put orange cast wrap over his plaster casts, and nearly everyone he knew had signed both his legs. “I hope they're okay with it. What about Greyson?”

“Now I know what happened to him.” Poppa laughed, “Broken collarbone, stitches in his forehead, and a twisted ankle.”

“That Greyson could run into a brick wall and only come out with a scratch.” Rusty joked, even though his voice sounded sad and quiet. Poppa noticed something was wrong as he took a long drag from his cigar.

“Rusty, my boy, what’s bothering you?” Poppa asked.

“Nothing.” Rusty lied, “I’m just bummed out because of the chair and stuff!”

“Rusty, you’ve been my son for fifteen and a half years now. I can tell when something is bothering you.” Poppa assured. He held Rusty’s hand, covered in dark tan blotches due to his Vitiligo. “Tell me, what’s wrong?”

Rusty looked down and thought for a few moments. After taking a deep breath, he said,

“It’s C.B. I feel like…he abandoned me.”

Poppa nodded, “Go on.”

“I trusted him,” Rusty said, shaking his voice. “He said he’d be right there for me and that I won’t get hurt with him. But he caused that crash and got me, Greyson, Electra, and maybe Pearl and Dinah hurt! And…I just feel so betrayed!” He started quickly grasping to hold back tears. He didn’t want to waste tears on something so stupid.

“It’s okay to feel like he betrayed you, Rustin.” Poppa comforted. “He did betray you. Because of his recklessness, he got a lot of people hurt. I know it must…hurt more because you two were close.”
“It does…It does.” Rusty said, “I just don’t know why he did it.”

“I’ve been around the rink a few times. Things like this happen a lot.” Poppa said, “Most people who cause crashes like this do it for a thrill or want some sort of revenge. Knowing C.B, it was probably the former. I’m considering banning him from the rink.”

That comment only made Rusty’s heart drop further. He knew C.B was reckless but did he want a thrill like that so badly he had to hurt people? That made Rusty angry; why the people he raced with, and why him! He promised not to get him hurt, and look at what he had done! Rusty contained all his anger into a single sigh.

“I don’t want to forgive him, Poppa.” Rusty confessed, “Does that make me a bad person?”

“No, Rustin, it doesn't.” Poppa assured, “You both need some time to heal, physically and mentally. When you feel the time is right, then you can forgive him.”

“I feel horrible for not forgiving him right away,” Rusty said.

“He broke both your legs and sent you into a coma.” Poppa sighed, “I think that’s a good reason not to forgive someone just yet. Take your time Rusty. Forgive him when you feel like he deserves it.”

“Okay…thanks, Poppa.” Rusty thanked.

“You’re welcome, my boy,” Poppa said, messing with his hair. “Let’s get our minds off this now. Do you want to stay and talk here or go inside?” Poppa gripped Rusty’s wheelchair handles in anticipation.

“I’ll stay here,” Rusty said, not wanting to go back inside and have to be pushed around. “It’s a nice day, and it sure beats that stuffy hospital room.”

“Y’know, back in nineteen eighty-four, there was a day just like this one-” Poppa rambled. Rusty listened to his story, but one little thought was still on his mind.

Where was C.B, and was he even sorry? Right now, though, he never wanted to see C.B ever again.

Chapter Text

Pearl and Dinah were racing partners for Rusty and Greaseball, respectively. They weren't hurt too badly in the crash as they could get away from the four other people colliding. Dinah twisted her ankle while Pearl had a sprained leg. Other than a few minor scrapes and bruises, the girls were alright. They were still a bit sore about C.B's actions, especially since he nearly killed their boyfriends, but they had gotten over it. Dinah was going to see Greyson/Greaseball while Pearl was going to see Rusty. Their two besties, Buffy and Ashley, were walking with them. Dinah held a small box of chocolates and some flowers.

"Hey, do you guys think he'll like these?" Dinah asked, showing the items, "They're supposed to be get-well presents."

"Yeah, he will. After I break my collarbone, the first thing I want is chocolate and roses." Ashey said sarcastically. Buffy jabbed her arm playfully into Ashley's side.

"Be nice to her!" Buffy teased, "I think he'll like them, Dinah."

"Thanks, Buffy, and thanks a lot, Ashley," Dinah said, shooting a quick look at Ashley, who was giggling. She turned her attention to Pearl. "Did you get Rusty anything, Pearly?"

"I asked him if he wanted anything, but he didn't," Pearl said, messing her hair.

"Classic Rusty, always so selfless." Ashley said, "Once he got his phone back, he texted me to see if I was alright! And I wasn't even in the crash!"

"What about Electra?" Buffy asked, "Last I heard, they broke their neck or something!"

"No, not their neck. That's a lie." Dinah said, "They're alright. Vicky told me they are healing up well. They hurt their back, so they have to be in a wheelchair for a bit."

"I heard Rusty was in one too," Pearl said.

"Damn, C.B messed everyone up." Buffy sighed.

"I guess so," Pearl said, "I'd rather not think about it. Let's be happy nobody died."

"Yeah, this is Grey's house. Thanks for walking with me." Dinah said.

"Anytime, Dinah!" The girls said as they walked away. Dinah went up the steps and knocked on the door. She was welcomed in by Greyson's mother and was escorted to his room. She knocked on the door and said.

“Greyson! It's me, Dinah! How are you feeling, babe!"

"Come in, Dinah," Greyson said in his solid and deep voice. She walked in. His room was a mess as always. Clothes were strewn about the floor, posters for various rock bands were barely being held up with tape, and he didn't make his bed. He sat on his unmade bed, his hair a mess, his arm in a sling, and wearing a knee brace. Dinah sighed in relief. Greyson hadn't changed a bit. Greyson straightened himself up and moved the sheets away for his girlfriend. Dinah sat down on the bed.

"How are you, babe?" Dinah asked.

“Better.” Greyson said, "A few aches and pains but nothing too bad. Are you alright?"

"I'm good." she said, "I got you some get-well stuff!" She handed him the box of chocolates and flowers. Greyson took it and looked it over, a smile creeping on his face.

"Aw, thanks, Dinah!" He exclaimed, opening the box and eating a few chocolates. He awkwardly looked at his girlfriend while eating another one. "Uhm…do you want one?"

“No, no. They're all for you!" Dinah smiled.

"Gee, thanks, Dinah." He said, "Y'know when you get hurt, people always seem to get you flowers and nothing else! Like flowers are nice and all, but why is that always the go-to?"

"I'm not sure why people like to drown people who got hurt with flowers." Dinah said, "I guess it's because they're pretty!"

"Well, they are, but not as pretty as you!" Greyson flirted. They quickly kissed each other and smiled.

"So I believe you've gotten over the crash?" Dinah asked

"Kinda," Greyson said, his voice tensing up a bit. "I can't wait to get back to racing, but I'm not sure if it will ever be the same for me!"

"Oh? Why's that?" she asked.

"It's that damn C.B!" he growled, "Who does he think he is? He shouldn't be causing people on skates to crash! He ruined my win record! And he like- sent like three people to the hospital, but that's not the point!"

"Uh-huh," Dinah said, sounding as sweet as possible. She knew that Greyson could be egotistical and self-centered. At least he's trying his best to care about other people. But there is always more room for improvement. Greyson balled his hands into his fists as he threatened,

"I swear if I see that C.B ever again, I'll sock him one! Where the hell is he anyway?"

"I have no idea, Grease." Dinah said, "If it makes you feel any better, I heard Mr.McCoy was going to ban him from the rink."

"Well, that does make me feel better, doll." Greaseball smiled, "At least there is some justice in this world."

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hi, Rusty!" Pearl said, walking into his room. He had quickly cleaned up his room to make it easier to move around. Rusty had wrapped himself up in blankets and turned to see Pearl. She sat by him on his bed. Rusty pushed himself up to her level. "How are you? Feeling any better?"

"I'm not sure." Rusty admitted, "I'm just bummed out because of the legs. I should be fine, though, according to the doc!"

"That's good!" Pearl exclaimed, "I'm sorry I didn't see you in the hospital."

"It's okay. I looked pathetic anyway." Rusty said, "Are you okay? Didn't you get hurt during it?"

"Oh, I'm fine, Rusty!" she comforted, "Just a few bumps and bruises, I'll be fine. You're the one with broken legs!"

"Yeah, but it's fine. I'll heal up!" Rusty dismissed, "My hand is already feeling better!" He proudly showed his casted hand to Pearl, "Wanna sign it?"

"I shall!" Pearl exclaimed, picking up a pen from Rusty's desk and scribbling down a quick signature. Pearl noticed Rusty was staring out into his doorway. "What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, nothing!" Rusty dismissed as Pearl heard a voice whisper,

"Dustin! Leave them the hell alone!" and the scurrying of shoes.

"My family has been protective of me recently." Rusty laughed.

"I can see that." Pearl giggled. "It must be nice to have older brothers."

"Not all the time." Rusty said, "They can be mean and clingy most of the time. But hey, what are you going to do?"

"Well, it looks like someone is taking this predicament well!" Pearl exclaimed.

"Yeah…yeah, I sure am," Rusty said. His voice trailed off a bit. Deep down, there was something he was worried about. That was rollerskating once he healed up. His legs would heal, but he overheard his doctor talking about some 'concerns' with his legs and how they would recover. His left leg was damaged severely in the accident that the bone went through the skin and may have torn a muscle. Their main concern was that he might start walking with a limp. He already knew that his roller racing career would probably only last until his late teens due to his condition. It was a muscle condition where his muscles would slowly degenerate over time. He was prepared for when the time came for him to retire from skating when his legs got too weak. He was not prepared for it to end so prematurely, though. He brushed off those concerns and smiled at Pearl. "Hey, I'm the same old Rusty! Just on different wheels!"

The pair constituted to giggle and reminisce throughout the afternoon.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside of Rusty's house, a particular figure, clad in shades of red, skated by. He looked at it with a longing gaze. Nobody could tell if he felt guilty or was satisfied with his work. He knew the consequences, but he felt safe. Rusty would forgive him! He always did!

"10-7, I'll go to heaven!" C.B assured himself as he skated away.

Chapter Text

Hi! I’m glad you all are enjoying this! It might be a while until my next update. I have finals coming up and that takes away a lot of my time. Expect more updates this summer! And again, thank you so much for reading!

Chapter Text

“I am going to MURDER him!” Greyson threatened. He was on the phone with Electra, one of his competitors. Their “bitter rivalry” had been short-lived as they finally had made up after the crash—something about how they both were just as vulnerable or in the same situation.
Nevertheless, they could makeup, but there was slight animosity between the two. While Greaseball was still pissed at the events, Electra had gotten over it already. It was unfortunate, but there wasn’t much they could do. Sure they were upset at first about the injuries and foul play, but now, they just wanted to forget about it. Their parents will probably sue somebody, and they’d be fine. Their back injury wasn’t severe, and they’d be fine in a few weeks. So at this point, they had time to lick their wounds and start moving on.

“Sure you are, Greyson.” they sighed, clicking out of the phone app to play Subway Surfers while Greyson ranted.

“I mean. This guy shouldn’t be wandering the streets of West End! He’s practically a criminal!” Greyson complained.

“Correction. He I.S. a criminal.” Electra sighed, “It’s technically assaulting.”

“Yeah! Who does he think he is? Y’know what? I’m going to find him, and all my friends and I will BEAT. HIS. ASS.” Greyson declared.

“Sure you will,” Electra said half-heartedly. They did not believe Greaseball could beat someone’s ass at all. “Go ahead, record it on your shitty school Chromebook for all I care.”

“You don’t seem to care about this? Do you?” Greyson asked.

“I do.” Electra laughed, “Just in a different way that doesn’t involve ‘beating someone’s ass’”

“Suit yourself, Electr-boring.” Greyson teased. Electra wanted to laugh on the spot when they heard it. Greyson wasn’t the brightest when it came to insults.

“Is that your idea of name-calling?” They asked, fighting a snicker.

“Hell yeah, it is, Electro….person?” Greyson proudly declared.

“Okay, Grease-ass.” Electra fought back.

“Hey!” Greyson exclaimed, “Low blow!”

“Please, that wasn’t even a blow!” Electra sighed, continuing to tap away at their game.

“You still busy, dude?” Greyson asked.

“No. Please continue to rant about how you’ll kick C.B.’s ass. It’s great background noise.” Electra said, smiling.

“Yeah, yeah. I will kick his ass so hard; his caboose will be red!” Greyson exclaimed.

===================================================================

Rusty was taking a stroll around West End. Poppa had urged him to get out of the house more once his hand healed up, and he couldn’t be happier. He was glad to be out on the town again. Sadly for him, he couldn’t be alone. Dustin was walking with him, though he had ‘mellowed out’ after some urging from Franklin to stop babying Rusty. So Dustin followed closely behind.

They stopped near a plaza to take a break. It was an average day. The Rockie Triplets were sparring next to another group of three. The Hip-Hoppers, they called themselves, were practicing their break dancing and beatboxing. The Rockies were close with them as friends. The only difference between them was The Hip-Hoppers weren’t all related. Rusty was happy, and so was Dustin.

“How are you feeling, Rustin?” Dustin asked.

“I’m good.” Rusty smiled, “It’s great to be out for once.”

“Yeah, it’s such a nice day,” Dustin said.

“Let’s hope it stays like this before the summer makes this place hell on earth.” Rusty joked.

“Rusty, don’t say that!” Dustin gasped.

“Hey-hey! What did Poppa and Frank say about babying me?” Rusty giggled.

“Don’t.” Dustin sighed. Rusty laughed. At least he knew his brother cared about him. They continued to watch the Hoppers and Rockies until something caught his eye. A tall guy, dressed in all red, on roller skates, skating along. Rusty blinked…oh no. It was C.B., and he was sliding right towards him. Rusty did not want to even look at him. He turned to Dustin,

“We need to leave. Now.”

“Rusty, what do you-” Dustin tried to say.

“Now,” Rusty demanded quietly. “You can push me. You know who is here.”

“Okay, okay!” Dustin exclaimed, finally getting Rusty’s urgency. He started to push Rusty away, but it was too late. C.B. had already caught up to them. Bitch was fast. C.B. strolled up to them, smiling like nothing was wrong. Rusty wanted to wipe that smile right off his stupid face.

“Rusty, Dustin!” he exclaimed, “How are you two boys?”

“Leave us alone,” Rusty said, a bit mad.

“C’mon, I can’t say hi to you anymore, buddy?” C.B. asked. The buddy line made Rusty and Dustin cringe.

“Okay, hi, C.B. Leave us alone,” Rusty replied shortly. “Dustin, let’s go.”

“Hey hey hey! Hold up!” C.B. exclaimed, blocking the way. Rusty rolled his eyes. “Look, Rusty…buddy...friend. I’m sorry. Okay, I am really, really sorry for the crash. Please find it in your heart to forgive me, Rusty. I was being stupid and I wasn't thinking of everyone else. I am so sorry, for everything Rustin.”

It was apparent that C.B. was being completely sincere. He was desperate to be forgiven and he stared at Rusty, waiting for a reply. Rusty looked down at his broken legs and back at C.B.’s pleading eyes. He didn’t want to forgive him. Mainly because of the broken leg and potentially torn muscle thing. Rusty sighed and pinched his nose.

“Okay. I don’t forgive you.”

Those five words shattered C.B.

"What?"

Chapter Text

“I said I don’t forgive you.” Rusty snapped. C.B couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Rusty. Rusty McCoy, seemingly the sweetest, most forgiving person in the whole damn world, actually said that. C.B could feel his smile drop as the weight of everything settled onto him. He had fucked up. He had fucked up REAL BAD. At this point, was he sorry? Well, he was sorry. He didn’t know if he was sorry or sad he got caught. “Are you going to keep staring at me with that face?”

His words brought C.B back into reality as he started to panic. There had to be a way to salvage their relationship! There HAD to be.
“No! Rusty, I’m sorry! Please, give me another chance. It wasn’t-” He started to say before Rusty had shouted back.

“Don’t give me the ‘it wasn’t supposed to happen to you’ spiel! I know what you did, and God! Do you even think before you do shit!”

“I-I-I,” C.B stammered. He had gone beyond fucking up real bad. He was at astronomical levels of fucking up stuff.

“I what? Say it!” Rusty demanded.

“I…um uh….” C.B stuttered while nervously looking back and forth at a pissed off Rusty and a very terrified Dustin. “Look! Okay, I was stupid! I put my fun before you, and…uh fucked everything up! I’m sorry, actually sorry! I didn’t want it to happen like this, and it wasn’t SUPPOSED to be like this! Please, I’m sorry for breaking your legs-”

“You did a whole lot more than that!” Rusty snapped. “You might’ve torn a damn muscle! I might have to walk with a limp until I can’t anymore.” Oh fuck. Oh shit. He forgot about the disorder Rusty had. Rusty talked to him about it, all his fears and worries. He might have ruined everything for Rusty. He was such a shitty person. C.B wanted to break down and cry right then and there.

“Rusty…” C.B choked out. “What can I do?”

“Stay out of my damn sight and never talk to me again,” Rusty demanded threateningly. With that, Dustin pushed Rusty away, and the pair walked into the distance. The groups that were there, who watched the confrontation, sighed and went back to their respective activities. Not wanting to intrude on whatever was going on. C.B skated off on his roller skates. He was regretting everything he had done.

He skated for miles and miles across West End. Just depressed, he was a horrible person. He always was and will always be that way. This was a crash he couldn’t just cover up and explain away. At this point, he forgot why he even did the act, to begin with. Oh, that’s right. He had to do it for his sanity. He sat down on the concrete stoop of the lesser-known composer Bandrew Mmoyd Xebber. Bandrew never minded when people would be there, mainly because nobody cared enough to acknowledge him or his works like Dogs and Moses and the Incredible, Monocolor, Ten Plagues. So why should he recognize them?

C.B sat there, full of regret. Holding his head in his hands as if his thoughts weighed it down. Footsteps made their way across the pavement before stopping.

“Carson Braker?” a soft voice asked. C.B looked up to see his old friend, Dinah.

“Hey, Dinah,” he said sadly.

“Carson, what are you doing here?” she asked.

“Dinah, don’t talk to me. I don’t deserve it.” C.B sighed.

“C.B, you’re sitting on Bandrew’s stoop. Something is wrong.” she said, sitting next to him, “Let me guess, you feel guilty about what happened.”

“I do,” C.B confirmed. “I deserve to feel guilty. I’m horrible, and I’m sorry for hurting your boyfriend.”

“If you want me to be honest, C.B, he wants to kick your ass.” Dinah sighed.

“He should. Hell, he should kill me for all I’ve done.” C.B confessed.

“Okay, I know you’re sorry and full of regret, but don’t say that about yourself.” Dinah comforted.

“Dinah, I didn’t just hurt you, or Greyson, or Pearl, or Electra, or…Rusty. I’ve damaged something I shouldn’t have.” C.B said. Dinah stared at him before realizing what he meant.

“This is about Rusty, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes, I may have just ended his skating career early.” He choked, “I may have caused him to tear a muscle, and he might walk with a limp…until he can’t.” Dinah nodded, knowing what he meant.

“Because of his Muscular Dystrophy or something?” she asked.

“Yeah.” he said, “He’s so angry about it, and I may have ruined it all for him. I’m such a crappy…everything.”

“There’s a chance he may be fine.” Dinah suggested, “I mean, you’ve been saying you ‘may’ have ruined his career.”

“Why do you care about me, Dinah?” he asked, “Why do you care about some piece of crap like me?”

“Because everyone deserves another chance.” She smiled. C.B smiled back. “So, tell me. Why do you like crashing people so much?”

“I think telling you the truth will make me feel better,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’m an adrenaline addict.”

“Oh?” Dinah gasped, a bit surprised.
“Yeah. Google it. You can get addicted to anything. This is mine. I need to feel the rush. “He explained, “It started with simple stuff, roller skating, roller coasters, racing. It kept building, and I needed a bigger, more intense high. And here we are. I want to get better, but I don’t think there’s rehab for Adrenaline Junkies.”

“No..not at all,” Dinah said, not finding anything to make C.B feel better. They both sat on the stoop, heads in hands, while Bandrew’s newest musical, Moonlight Terminal, played in the background.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I was harsh on him, wasn’t I?” Rusty sighed. Dustin was still pushing him along the sidewalk with a disappointed face.

“You we’re.” Dustin said, “It’s okay to be angry just, wow. I didn’t expect that from you.”

“I’m just so fucking tired of everything.” Rusty admitted, “I’m tired of the injuries, the broken friendships, everything. I want everything to go back to normal.”

“I think we all are,” he said, shaking his head. “I think it will, though.”

“What makes you say that?” Rusty asked.

“I don’t know. I just can feel it, y’know.” Dustin said. “Things always have a way of getting better.”

“Hm, I guess.” Rusty sighed. He believed that statement was true. “So, are you taking me to that doctor’s appointment, or is Franklin?”

“I am. Franklin is not allowed to drive after the lampost incident.” Dustin said.

“Right, I hope I’m fine after the casts come off,” Rusty said.

“You will.”