#passenger reader

You watch as the woman dressed in a furry coat places a shoe on top of Andrew's head. His arm has been lubed up and stuck out the hole of the train side, his skin freezing as you watch the pretentious woman giving her speech.

"This is such bullshit," you mumble under your breath, your blood boiling inside.

You know why Andrew is up there.

He's there because minutes earlier, they took away his son, and he decided to throw a shoe at the lady's head in response.

"I can't believe they're getting away with this, they shouldn't be. This isn't right, it's so fucking-"

"Angel, please be quiet."

Curtis' whispered words interrupt you, making you turn your head to look at him.

"Excuse me?"

Curtis turns to look at you, his gaze stern, "I said, be quiet. This is not the time."

You scoff loudly, glaring at him as you harshly whisper, "Oh, you don't think so? When is, then? When it's our son being taken away by those fur-coat wearing bitches? Or would that not affect you, either?"

Curtis sighs quietly, his gaze returning to watch the spectacle happening in front of you and the rest of the tail-end passengers.

"I hope you understand that if that was my son, it wouldn't have been a shoe. It would have been a knife. And we wouldn't have even been in this situation."

You scoff again, placing a protective hand over your stomach, "Well, if that's how you feel, I guess you still have a couple of months before you need to stay true to your word."

Curtis snaps his head to the side to look at you, his face stern but eyes wide, "Angel, what are you talking about?"

You glare at him angrily, your gaze drifting back to whats happening in front of you, "I'm talking about the fact that I haven't had a period in almost three months. So if that was our son, you know we would have both done anything we could to stop it."

"Our son?" Curtis murmurs, his eyes fixed on you, "What are you saying right now? Are you... Are you pregnant?"

"Might be," you shrug, your eyes locked on Andrew when his scream ripples through the train car, "Don't know for sure yet."

"Baby," Curtis breathes out, his eyes intensely on you, "Are you serious right now?"

You glance at him, another casual shrug, "Not entirely. But it's likely. Still waiting to get confirmation."

Your eyes are trained on Andrew, so you miss the way Curtis gawks at you, and the way his entire face changes. His eyes light up, a grin spreading on his face, "But you think you are?"

"Yeah, maybe. I'm not sure, gotta wait for our medical check-up."

"But there's a definite chance you are," Curtis interjects, "There's a definite chance you might be... pregnant... Yes?"

You nod absentmindedly, your words mumbled and indifferent, "Yes, there is. Isn't that what I've been saying this entire time?"

"Yes but baby, you-this.. You can't just spring this on me like that, I-"

"Curtis," you hiss, glaring at him, "Andrew is losing his arm right now. Is this really what you want to focus on? He's losing his arm because we didn't help him."

"Oh baby, you won't be helping anyone at all, after what you just told me."

You roll your eyes, turning your gaze back ahead of you as you whisper, "You're the boss of the tail, Everett. Not the boss of me."

"That's not true," Curtis whispers in response, leaning closer to you as he watches whats happening at the front, "You're mine. Did you forget that?"

You scoff loudly, a reaction triggered by the situation happening in front of you and by the words Curtis just chose to utter. You don't actually mean anything by it, you just want to show your distaste at the entire ordeal, but unfortunately, it catches the attention of one of the guards standing next to Andrew.

The young guard spots you after a short moment, his eyes narrowing when he says, "You! Stand up!"

You glance towards Curtis quickly before you comply, rising to your feet in the middle of the crouched down passengers surrounding you.

"You got a problem?" The guard spits, while another one keeps track of the time. The fur-coated woman turns her eyes on you, glaring in reaction to the guards tone.

You square your shoulders, the defiance deeply rooted inside you bubbling up as you suddenly blurt out, "As a matter of fact, I do. Thank you for asking. What you're doing is despicable, and you should all be ashamed of yourselves."

The guards' brows raise for a moment, but within a second, he lurches toward you, his staff in hand.

You don't even have time to react before he strikes you, hitting your cheek with the thick metal throng, making you fall to the floor in a loud thump.

Your cluttered mind doesn't fully register it when it happens, but it catches on when it spots Curtis, now standing, his fist meeting the jaw of the guard that just struck you.

And you most definitely recognize his voice when it yells, "Don't you fucking dare touch her!"

Chaos ensures around you; people rising from their seated positions, blows landing, screams filling the air.

You inhale deeply, your heart pounding in your chest once you realize what's happening. You barely even have time to try to get on your feet before your arm is grabbed, roughly pulling you up from the ground.

You're pulled through the mass of people, ending up at the front right next to Andrew, panic rising inside when you feel a gun suddenly pressed against your temple.

"ORDER!" The voice of the fur-clad woman yells sternly, "ORDER OR SHE DIES!"

Your eyes fan over the crowd quickly, panic still bubbling inside you, until they finally meet a pair of familiar blue ones. Curtis takes a step forward, but is immediately stopped when another guard holds him back.

"I SAID ORDER!" The coat-clad lady yells again, "We weren't planning on taking a life today, but we easily could!"

Your wide eyes hold Curtis', his face filled with dread as he watches you.

"Mr. Everett," the lady says, stepping toward Curtis, "Is this what you want? To lose one of your own? Or will you get them in line?"

Curtis' wide eyes dart to yours again, tears streaming down your cheeks as the guards strong fingers dig into your arm.

"I will get them in line," Curtis replies through gritted teeth, eyes never wavering from yours.

"Good," the woman practically hums, glancing back at you, "I would hate to kill such a pretty face."

Her eyes trail over your form for a moment before she continues, "But then again, perhaps she'd do well in the night car."

She turns to look at the guards stationed around her, "What do you think?"

You watch on in dread as the guards standing at the front of the tail all nod, one of them smirking at you, filling your insides with more horror than you've ever felt your entire time on the train.

Curtis' jaw tenses even more, his eyes narrowing dangerously, "I said I would get them in line. Let her go."

"She seems awfully important," the lady muses, watching his reaction, "Why is that?"

Curtis hesitates for a moment, but once his eyes are back on yours, his features soften, making him quietly reply, "She's mine. Let her go."

The lady chuckles mockingly, the guard holding you back tightening his hold, and right as you're about to lose all hope, you hear the sound of a wooden leg clinking on the metal floor of the train car.

"Minister Mason, please tell Mr. Wilford I would like a word."

"Gillian!" the lady chimes, almost excitedly, "Good to see you. Mr. Wilford has no reason to visit here, but you can talk to me."

"Leave the girl," Gillian replies sternly, "She is of no use to you."

"Oh, I don't think that's true," the lady replies, eyeing you quickly, "She looks quite presentable. They could get good use of her in the night car."

"The girl is pregnant," Gillian immediately responds, "And if there's one thing I know, it's that Wilford does not like risking the lives of babes. Let her go and leave her be. Or you will live to regret it."

"Oh, Gillian," the lady snickers, shaking her head, "Wilford is not concerned about babes being born in the tail end. The only children that matter to him are the ones born in the front."

"They will matter," Gillian responds immediately, "When their father is the future leader of the tail. Let her go, or you will have another uprising on your hands."

The lady eyes you for a moment, but you're still in the iron-tight hold of the guard, before she turns back to look at Curtis, "Oh, Mr. Everett. You got yourself in a precarious situation, didn't you?"

Curtis inhales deeply, his jaw staying tense as he replies, "Yes, unfortunately. I didn't plan on it, and yet here we are."

Your brows furrow for a moment in response to his words, a different kind of dread filling your veins.

What does that mean? Does he not want you to have his baby?

"We can have that taken care of, you know," the lady muses with a smile on her face, "Up at the front. We can take it off your hands."

Curtis' reply comes so quickly, it almost gives you whiplash, "No! No. That's not necessary. We can take care of it here."

The lady turns back to Gillian, "You need to get your people in line, Mr. Gillian. Wilford does not take kindly to situations like this."

"I will," Gillian responds, "Hand the girl back and I swear to you, you will hear nothing more of this."

Once you're back in your bunk, Curtis is practically coddling you. Almost suffocating you in blankets people came to deliver, tucking you in so tightly you have a hard time breathing.

"Curtis," you croak out when he places another blanket on top of the pile already smothering you, "Please stop."

"No," he murmurs, tucking in the sides, "I need to make sure you don't get cold."

He keeps fidgeting with the blanket, and it's annoying you at this point, making you exclaim, "Curtis! Enough!"

He looks up at you, brows raised in surprise at your tone, making you instantly soften it, "Baby, it's enough. I'm sweating under here. Just go see Gillian. Please?"

Curtis frowns, his fingers running over the sides of your blanket covered body, "I don't have time, I need to make sure-"

"You need to make sure they don't do this again," you reply sternly, watching his face. "Baby, make sure they won't be doing this by the time this baby comes. Stop fuzzing over me, save these people. Save our child."

He blinks, his features pulling into a sad frown as he whispers, "What if I can't do that? What if it doesn't work?"

You cup his face in your hands, your words a quiet whisper, "Do whatever it takes, as long as it doesn't mean you won't make it back to me. If there's ever a chance of that, you stop. Okay? You come right back here and you stop. But as long as you know there's still a chance.. Go save our people. They deserve to be saved by someone like you."