#leaderchcsen

     The run-in Quentin had with the killer had been pretty quick. In fact, he hadn’t even realized he’d been cut on the upper arm until he’d managed to get away and had stumbled across Jake, who had inadvertently pointed out that he was bleeding with his threatening comment of getting blood on him. Quentin lifted a brow, the corners of his lips curving upward slightly in a grin. “You’ll what?” He asked after Jake’s sentence had trailed off. “Kill me? Leave me for dead?”

     It was well known that Jake wasn’t the most friendly of survivors. He was pretty cold and closed off and didn’t seem to care much for risking his own life just because other survivors made mistakes. Or so he said. Quentin suspected there was more to him; a softer side that was rarely seen. After all, he was human and probably wasn’t always this way. “I’ll just bandage myself up so I don’t get blood on your perfectly pristine clothes,” Quentin added, his tone hopefully conveying that he was only kidding around. Though, he doubted Jake would find much humor in it.

RED EYES blink out of the peerless black, watching him.  They blink, slow and thoughtful.  He’s so ... small.  The Demon towers over Legion by comparison, and has to take a moment to consider whether he should kneel down to talk -- or sit.  He feels rude standing over him like a mountain.  Instead Gil just stands there, barely more than an ominous statue. 

          she’s  awaiting  the  next  trial  ,  consistently  uncertain  about  where  her  fate  lies  .  there’s  never  a  guarantee  that  she’ll  make  it  out  ,  but  thankfully  she’s  managed  .  where  she  got  the  courage  to  speak  to  him  so  boldly  ,  she’ll  never  know  ,  but  she’ll  admit  he’s  always  intrigued  her  .  despite  the  fear  they  made  present  ,  elena  was  ever  curious  to  know  more  about  even  those  deemed  terrible  .  what  she  doesn’t  anticipate  in  his  response  ,  however  ,  is  something  so  philosophical  ,  and  it  only  piques  her  interest  even  more  .  not  that  she  didn’t  think  he  was  smart  ,  she  just  wasn’t  expecting  something  like  that  to  be  his  reply  .  ❛  i’ve  never  thought  about  things  that  way  .  .  .  ❜  she  trailed  .  he’d  made  such  a  point  ,  and  his  final  remark  reigned  even  more  true  than  socrates’  words  .  ❛  every  day  i  think  i  learn  something  about  this  world  ,  then  fall  back  into  feeling  like  i  know  nothing  at  all  .  i  don’t  think  much  is  certain  aside  from  knowing  that  at  some  point  ,  things  will  come  to  an  end  ,  and  while  that’s  comforting  in  some  ways  ,  it’s  also  frightening  because  it’s  out  of  your  own  control  ,  for  the  most  part  .  ❜

     I should’ve been more careful, Quentin thought as he sat on the ground, gripping at his leg where he’d both felt and heard a sickening snap. He’d fallen on it wrong and from a great height while running from Frank, and now he couldn’t run at all. The cry of pain that had left him upon impact was surely enough to alert nearby teammates to Frank’s presence, and he only hoped they were smart enough to stay away.

     Clenching his jaw to try to fight through the pain, he tilted his head up to look at Frank after he’d taken the stairs down and walked over to him. His stepped look a little too merry, and the words that left his mouth had Quentin wishing that he could get up and punch him in the face--preferably without the mask on. “Yeah, no shit,” he replied with an annoyed sigh.

     It would’ve been simple to go to a store and buy a rock in the shape of a heart--one that was likely glossy and polished to perfection, but that wouldn’t cut it. It had to be found organically, which was why Quentin occasionally looked closely at the rocks while spending time near the river or any other area with an abundance of rocks. He remembered the promise he’d made Jake, and as small as it may have been, he wanted to make sure he kept it. After some months had passed, he’d finally found the perfect rock. It wasn’t too big nor too small, fitting in the palm of one’s hand and unmistakably shaped like a heart--much like the one Jake had found before.

      Quentin couldn’t help but grin when placing the rock in Jake’s hands, for he wondered if he would recall the event that had taken place in the realm. In some ways it seemed like forever ago, yet Quentin could remember the story of it well. It was comical how it had all played out, really. Grey eyes watched the other closely, waiting for some sort of reaction. A twitch of his lips, a raise of an eyebrow, maybe a slight tilt of his head. What he got, however, wasn’t what he’d been expecting. A smile, bright and genuine and so rarely seen was lighting up Jake’s face. Hell, he had a smile that lit up the whole room; one of those contagious ones that made you smile even if you were having a bad day or week or even month.

     Cornered with no way out, Quentin knew that he’d lost the trial. It had been his own fault for coming into the basement, his goal to search the chest in a last-ditch-effort to find a medkit. The Deathslinger, Caleb, knew that he had won too. He had a broad grin on his face and emitted a low, somewhat menacing laugh while closing in on him. Back pressed against the wall and fingernails digging into the flesh of his palms, Quentin shut his eyes tightly to brace for the impact of his spiked gun. This was gonna hurt.

     He could feel him looming above him, knowing that his weapon was raised and about to hit him full force with the killing blow. But instead, he was met with a warm, splattering wetness against his face. Grey eyes opened to see what had happened, and immediately he understood why the pain hadn’t hit him, or why his vision hadn’t gone black. Jake had moved to stand in front of him, the long spike piercing straight through his chest and dripping with blood. He’d seen people killed in front of him many times now, but it didn’t seem to get easier. It was hard to watch the people he care about suffer so greatly, and Quentin couldn’t help but feel guilty. He should’ve been the one receiving the punishment. He was the one who fucked up--not Jake.

     For a few seconds, Quentin was frozen, staring wide-eyed at his now fatally injured friend in front of him. He almost wished that Jake would return to his old ways; his ways of only caring about self preservation so that he wouldn’t feel the need to come back for him. Alas, he also knew he would be sad to lose that bond he’d developed over quite some time with him. I’ll be back for you, he thought before making a run towards the stairs and being careful not to slip in the blood that coated the floor. He took two steps at a time, trying to put as much distance between them as quickly as possible. Caleb was still busy with Jake, but he knew that it wouldn’t be for long. He’d leave him there as a broken, barely breathing heap on the floor and come for him. It would be close and risky, but maybe there was still a chance that he could come back and save him.

@leaderchcsen

     There’s a breath, sucked between lips as he hears the soft         sounds of someone crying in the other room. He stops, body           freezing and Steve’s unsure what to do. Unsure if he should      reach out and offer comfort through the closed door or perhaps       try to open, try to make sure that things are okay and that he        doesn’t need to be that shoulder for a person to cry on. Another      breath. Another moment of pausing and wondering which        option was best. To help or to leave. Steve is a person who          doesn’t want comfort when he’s sad and when he’s pushed      to tears, he doesn’t want to be around another. Crying had       always been shown to him as a sign of something men didn’t         do, but it’s decided and Steve tries the handle, finding it      unlocked, he pushes it open and to his shocked surprise, he        sees Jake. Hesitation filters into his system. but the first thing          he does is close the distance. Crouching down upon a      single knee. “Hey, it’s okay, Jake.” He tries, his voice a soft        sound, something that Steve hopes is comforting. Something          that he hopes won’t ask for a punch in the face or anything      different. “Just get it out. There’s no time limit on crying.” He        reaches a hand out, resting it gently upon the other’s shoulder,         giving a light squeeze.

     The hour was late, the windows and doors locked up (made especially certain by Jake) and the curtains were drawn. The only light in the room was the soft illumination caused by the TV, which Quentin and Jake sat in front of on a couch. Blankets covered both of them, trapping in the warmth and fighting the cold air that came with the season of fall. Occasionally, Quentin would find his eyelids feeling heavy and would struggle to keep them open despite wanting to find out what happened next in the movie. Sometimes, he thought he’d wake up to find himself back at the realm in front of the campfire. It was hard to believe that he was actually here, on a comfortable couch, under warm blankets and watching TV with Jake; who wasn’t just a friend, but a brother.

     After shifting a little and changing his position on the couch, Quentin found himself at least a little more awake. The same couldn’t be said for Jake. After a few minutes, the older male had slumped against him, head against his shoulder and his breathing a little deeper than usual but still steady. Better not move, Quentin reminded himself, knowing that Jake was a light sleeper. It was sweet, really, that he felt comfortable enough with him to fall asleep against him. It probably wasn’t fully intentional, but he’d done it before in the realm anyway and it was one of the only times he was able to actually make physical contact with Jake without him getting upset.