#thius

whoa. me updating something? wow

o yeah, all chaps on my masterlist

warnings: mentions of abuse, cursing, uh crashes

editing: no its so dfjasldkfjalskdj sorry

ship: eventual ralbert

-

“Hello?”

Race opened his eyes, the pull of sleep ebbing away from him gradually as he fixed his gaze on the mattress next to his head.  His bed felt emptier than it had when he’d fallen asleep and he rolled over to see that Queso had moved back over to Albert’s bed, where he was resting his head on his front paws.

Albert was sitting up, blanket still pooled around his waist as he held his phone against his ear.  Race spared a glance at the clock.  It was still early, barely pushing 8:00, and Albert hardly looked conscious.  His hair was completely tangled on one side and the dark circles under his eyes were visible, even in the darkness that the thick hotel curtains provided.

“Elijah, buddy, hi,” Albert sounded more alert as he spoke, his back straightening as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

There was a pause as Albert leaned forward, a hand tangling in his hair as he listened.  Race could see him wince, and if he listened close enough he could hear the tingy sound of a child crying.  

“Dude, I know, I- no, I’m okay, but- Elijah, garoto, can you listen to me?” Albert sounded desperate, apologetic, and Race frowned as Queso sat up, nudging at Albert’s arm until he let him nestle underneath him armpit, “I’m right here, I’m here for ya,” another pause where Albert leaned forward, pressing the heel of his palm to his eye, “No, I didn’t wanna leave you, I just,” he sighed, “I couldn’t stay.”

There was more chatter from the other end and Albert set his jaw, nose scrunching as tears formed in his eyes.  Queso whimpered and rolled over, head resting on his lap.

“Eli…” Albert closed his eyes, “I’m sorry,” he fell back on the bed, legs still dangling as he stared at the ceiling, “Can you take a deep breath?  You know I love you, right?”

Race propped himself up on his elbow, listening intently.  He knew it wasn’t his business, but his curiosity got the better of him.  Albert suddenly sat up, eyes blown wide.  His face was drained of color and when he spoke, there was a new, unsettling waver to his voice.

“He what?” He stood up, pacing to the other side of the room, not bothering to put on his jeans, “Elijah, can you put him on the phone?” He leaned against the wall, gripping his bicep tightly, “He had to go to the- Jesus Christ,” he swallowed thickly, “Is he conscious?” the dread in his tone was evident and the answer was clear as Albert’s face dropped, “Fu-uh, I mean, crud.”

He slid to the floor, knees folded at his chest as the voice on the other end babbled on, “Alright,” Albert bit out, his voice shaky, “Call me again when you can, I love you.”

He waited a moment for the response, then brought his phone away from his ear, tapping the ‘end call’ button.  He remained on the floor, phone grasped loosely in one hand while the other continued to cover his eyes.  Abruptly, he stood up, chucking his phone on the motel bed with a shout.  Queso perked up, sniffing at the phone for a moment before looking to Albert with sad eyes.  

Albert stood, staring at the bed with glazed over eyes before crossing to the bathroom.  The door slammed shut and Race watched, stunned, as Queso padded over, whimpering as he scratched at the door.

Minutes passed with Race frozen still on the bed.  He hadn’t known Albert for very long, hell, it hadn’t even been 24 hours, but the pit that had formed in his stomach upon seeing him torn up threatened to consume him.  

Dull anger slowly ignited in his veins.  A sense of protectiveness enveloping his mind as he stared at the wall that separated the main room from the bathroom.  He could hear the shower running; a constant, unsettling white noise.  Queso sat on the floor, facing the door, patiently waiting for Albert to return.  But as more time passed with no word from Albert, worry seemed to bounce between Race and Queso.

Whining, Queso stood, bounding over to where Race was still sitting on the bed.  He jumped onto his hind legs, front paws resting on Race’s knees.  He lifted one paw and prodded at Race’s chest, tail completely still.  Race realized with a jolt that he was asking for help.  

They both jumped when a loud thump sounded from the bathroom.  Race was on his feet immediately, long strides taking him across the room.  He settled directly outside the door, and was about to knock, when he realized he had no idea what to say.

“Um,” He cleared his throat, casting a nervous glance back towards Queso, who was hovering nearby.  He knocked lightly, the sound falling prey to the running water, “Hey, you okay in there?” he tried, wincing at the uncertainty in his voice.  

Another bang, followed by a pained hiss, resonated through the door and Race’s eyes widened.  Part of him knew that he could easily get into the bathroom if he tried, but common sense told him otherwise.  They’d only known each other for the better part of a day.  It would be some sick invasion of privacy to break in, no matter how concerning Albert was being.

“Albert, man, listen,” He knocked again as Queso approached the door, shifting agitatedly underneath him, “I know it’s not entirely my business, but at least tell me you’re okay in there.”

The silence stretched on for another excruciating minute, then Queso barked.  Immediately, the shower turned off, and a moment later, Albert opened the door, towel secured around his waist.  Race took a step back, allowing Queso to access Albert completely.

“Sorry, bud,” Albert cooed, holding the towel in place as he bent down, “Didn’t mean to spook ya.”

Race grimaced as he took note of Albert’s knuckles, which were bright red and bordering swollen.  Queso must have noticed, too, because he turned his nose towards them, lapping soothing licks onto the near broken skin.

“Thanks, baby-boy,” Albert murmured, shifting his hand away and scratching under Queso’s chin, “But it’s okay.”

Queso whimpered and Albert hugged him closer, pressing his face into his pelt.  

“Uh,” Albert looked up as Race spoke, “You okay?”

Albert dropped his gaze, eyes fixed on Queso’s wagging tail, “Yeah, uh, here gimme a minute.”

He pecked another kiss to the top of Queso’s head before slipping back into the bathroom.  Race sighed and leaned against the wall behind him, eyes wandering around the room before landing on Queso.

He smiled and knelt down, holding his arms out in invitation.  Queso seemed to get the message and he ambled over, tail wagging joyously as Race ran a hand over his head.

“Sit,” Race commanded, smiling when Queso immediately sat down, “Good listener, huh? Uh, lay down.”

Queso’s tongue hung from his mouth as he lowered himself to the floor completely.

“Good boy!” Race praised, scrubbing at Queso’s stomach vigorously, “Bestest boy.”

“He can shake, too,” Race looked up to see Albert leaning against the door frame to the bathroom.  He was fully clothed now and a small, affectionate smile graced his features.

“Really?” Race asked, laughing a little as Queso rolled onto his back, begging for more belly rubs.

“Yeah, here, watch,” Albert pushed himself off the door and bent over, “Queso, sit up!” Queso scrambled into a sit, looking at Albert expectantly, “Good boy,” Albert smiled, holding out one of his hands, “Now shake!”  Queso lifted a paw, placing it in Albert’s outstretched palm, “Good boy!” Albert laughed, using both hands to pet behind Queso’s ears, “You probably have to go out, huh?” He looked up at Race, “Lemme take him out real quick, then we’ll go find food, yeah?”

“Sure, yeah, but are you-”

“I’m okay,” Albert grinned lopsidedly, eyes still dull, “Will you be cool in here alone for a few?”

“Go take your dog pee,” Race waved a nonchalant hand, “I won’t break anything.”

“Yeah, we can hope,” Albert mumbled as he left the room.  

Race watched him go, latching the door behind him.  He reached up, running a hand through his tangled curls, becoming acutely aware of how grungy he felt.  His shirt was still spotted with blood stains and his jeans were crusted with dirt.  He could feel dust and grime from the various explosions he’d caused chafing against his skin and he wrinkled his nose as he lifted up his shirt, observing the various scrapes on his bare torso.

He tugged off his shirt completely, entering the bathroom and turning on the shower.  He stripped down and stepped under the hot water, closing his eyes as the stiffness in his joints was worked out by the heat.  He treated himself to the various provided hotel soaps, cherishing their fresh scents.  He got out of the shower and tugged back on his boxers and jeans, making a distant note to eventually buy some new clothes.  

He bit his lip, fingers brushing over the stiff, rust red fabric of his shirt.  Letting out an annoyed hum, he turned on the sink, shoving his shirt under the cold water and hastily trying to rid it of his old blood.  He added a pump of hand soap for good measure and worked at it until the blood was mostly faded to the point of near normalcy.  

He dug under the sink and let out a triumphant hum when he found a blow dryer tucked behind a spare toilet paper roll.  He wrung his shirt out a few times, then plugged in the blow dryer and attempted to dry it the rest of the way.  

An abrupt bang, followed by, “Race, Jesus, unlatch the door,” caused him to startle.  He turned off the blow dryer and tugged his shirt over his head, wincing as he felt the still damp cloth cling to his skin.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly as he opened the door.

“S’okay,” Albert said dismissively as Queso ran between Race’s legs, settling on the lounge chair near the TV, “Your shirt looks less alarming,” he observed, gesturing to Race’s chest.

“Hm?” Race looked down, “Oh, yeah, I cleaned it off a bit,” he paused, gaze falling on Albert’s clothes, which were in a similarly disheveled state, “We should find new stuff somewhere.”

“Mmm, yeah,” Albert shifted uncomfortably, “Uh, about that,” Race raised his eyebrows, prompting him to continue.

Albert glanced to the side, “I think I need to go back.”

Race nodded.  He’d been expecting as much after Albert’s conversation with his brother that morning.  Whatever state he’d left them in didn’t sound good and it seemed that Albert’s inherent protectiveness towards them was returning.  

“He, uh,” Albert pushed past Race and shut the door behind him, “My dad got real mad after I left, I guess,” he heaved a breath, “Took it out on Tommy.  Got him bad and now he’s in the hospital and-” he shook his head, “Fuck.

Race pursed his lips, mind whirling, “Go back, dude.  Go help ‘em.”

Albert’s head whipped up, “But what about you?  It isn’t safe for you in the city.”

Race shrugged, “Don’t worry about me, bro.  You barely know me.  ‘Sides, your brothers need you.”

Albert didn’t look convinced, “But-”

“Aye, seriously,” Race cut him off, “I’m chill.  Let’s go grab a bite to eat, then you can drop me somewhere random on the way back, yeah?”

There was a pregnant pause and Queso leapt off the chair, crossing to Albert and leaning his body weight against him.

“Okay,” Albert said, “Maybe we can just grab Tommy and Eli and go or something.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Race assured him, “alright?”

Albert nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

XXX

“We look ridiculous,” Albert stated, an amused lilt to his tone.

They were sitting in a mostly vacant parking lot, eating Mcdonald’s.  Race had his seat reclined, his feet resting on the dashboard as he knocked back two cheeseburgers in quick succession.  Queso was munching happily on a 20 piece McNugget in the backseat, which Albert claimed he didn’t condone, but there weren’t many other options for him.

“Ridiculous, how?” Race asked, wiping smeared ketchup off his mouth and taking a long sip of his smoothie.

“Like,” Albert gestured between them, crumpled napkin in hand, “we deadass look like two homeless kids in a taxi.”

“We kinda are,” Race said, bringing his seat back to its original position.

“I mean,” Albert shrugged, tossing the napkin in the back, “Shit, I guess,” he put the car in drive, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Race said.

Queso perked up, carefully climbing into the front seat to sit on Race’s lap.

“Hey, buddy,” Race murmured, wrapping his arms around Queso’s stomach as Albert cruised through the parking lot.

They pulled onto the main road, basking in the morning sunlight.  As they continued to drive, Race couldn’t help but think that he’s going to miss this.  The carefree, no strings attached feeling.  The endless possibilities and open-road masking his ever growing stress.  It was a pleasant taste of serenity while it lasted.

Queso had curled up in Race’s lap, head resting on his forearm.  Race scratched mindlessly behind his ears, a soft pang of sadness hitting his heart.  The sense of security that Queso provided was like a drug, warming him from the inside out.  Saying goodbye to him wouldn’t be easy.

“Shit,” Albert swore.  Race turned his head towards him, alarmed.  Albert’s eyes were flicking rapidly between the rearview mirror and the road, and instinctively, Race moved to turn around.

“No, don’t,” Albert warned, “Don’t look.  Don’t want them to see you.”

Fear shot down Race’s spine and he sat up, nerves beginning to take hold of his lungs.  Queso sat up, peering at him for a moment, before bounding back to the backseat.  

Race swallowed, “Don’t want who to see me?” he gripped the door tightly as Albert sped up, well surpassing the speed limit.

“Damnit,” Albert muttered, ignoring Race and pressing his foot even harder on the gas.  Race shrunk down in his seat, squeezing his eyes shut as the car’s engine revved and they jolted forward.

“Hold tight,” Albert instructed and Race gripped the seat underneath him desperately as they sped into a turn, tires screeching, “We’re being followed.”

“What!?” Race demanded, the pit in his stomach causing nausea to surface.  He clenched his teeth, forcing a few deep breaths.  

“The car behind us,” Albert said, distractedly, “It was in the parking lot with us and it followed us out.  Think it prolly has something to do with you.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” They swerved into another turn and Queso whimpered from the back, “Kept waiting for them to turn off an exit or something, but they never did,” he grimaced, “They’re tailgating now.”

They were no longer on the highway, rushing along a stretch of heavily wooded road.  The lack of other pedestrian cars only further solidified the sense of doom that had settled over the car.  If they were caught, there was no help.

“What do they look like?” Race asked, voice cracking as he sank impossibly lower in his seat.  

“I can’t tell,” Albert said through clenched teeth, “All the windows are black.”

They both gasped as the car made contact with the hind bumper.  Albert tried to accelerate even faster, but as the car pressed further into the taxi, he lost control.  They spun, rocketing off of the road and onto the grass.  Screams echoed between them as they spiraled toward a tree and Race shut his eyes, bracing for impact.

But it never came.

Race cracked open his eyes, blood rushing to his head.  The taxi was suspended on its side, inches from the tree that would have killed them.

“Oh my god,” Albert gasped, chest heaving, “Are you doing this?”

Race assessed himself, nose twitching as he felt blood dripping from it.  All at once, he became acutely aware of the buzzing in his brain and he nodded numbly.

“I guess I am,” He said, though his words sounded miles away.

“Can you let us down?” Albert squeaked.

“Uh, yeah,” Race slurred, “Hang on.”

He blinked a few times, regaining focus.  Then, slowly, he zeroed in on the ground, willing the taxi to descend gently.  As soon as they were securely on the ground, Queso scrambled to the front seat, tail tucked between his legs.

“Shit, hey,” Albert said, hugging him close, “You’re alright, buddy, you’re okay.”

Albert continued to whisper comforting words to Queso, but Race tuned him out as he peered in the rearview mirror.

The car that had been following them was parked perfectly on the side of the road.  Race could feel himself shaking as he took in the large, black SUV.  No one had gotten out yet and he wasn’t sure if he was thankful or put off by that fact.

“You alright?” Albert’s voice entered his still foggy cognizance.

Race shook his head, words not forming on his tongue.

“Damn,” Albert breathed, turning to look at the car as well, “The police must really have it out for you.”

Suddenly, all the doors to the SUV opened and a cascade of men in identical black suits emerged.  They wore matching sunglasses that masked the majority of their identifiable features.  Not a single one had any trace of emotion of their face.

“Albert,” Race muttered, his heart hammering fiercely against his rib cage.  He could hear Albert curse again, giving hint to his own nerves, “I don’t think those are police.”

-

ok so i actually got plot goin....thats good

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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