#yancyiplier

Darkiplier is worried. What the hell happened to you? Why were you a cat? Did you piss off a wizard or what? Since you can’t really answer any of his questions, he decides to just… vibe, really. He pets you, he plays with you, gives you scritches, normal things people do with cats. He doesn’t even really mind that you’re his friend and he might regret this when you turn back to normal. You’re cute, that’s all there is to it. He doesn’t know what to feed you so he just gives you a whole can of tuna. He later looks it up and realizes maybe that wasn’t the best idea. He keeps a close eye on you to make sure you won’t like… keel over and die or something. He does the “pspsps” thing at you and is happily surprised when you actually respond by running over to him. He is ELATED you are so CUTE. He decides to cuddle you when he goes to sleep, and he sleeps much better than he had in awhile. When he wakes up in the morning, you are no longer a cat. Subsequently, he is now cuddling human-you. In his bed. And you may or may not be naked. He gently squirms out of bed, as to not make you uncomfortable. He leaves a hoodie and some sweatpants by the bed for when you wake up. When you do wake up, he asks you if you remember everything from the day before. You do, but you save him the embarrassment by saying you don’t. You do tease him sometimes by going “pspsps” when he walks by.

Wilford loves you. You are small, you are adorable, you are soft. You are also a cat at this point, but whatever. He’d like to know how you got to be this lil baby that you are, but soon gets distracted from that because HOLY LORD YOU’RE ADORABLE. He immediately goes out and buys a lil collar with bells for you, to keep track of you in your small form. He spends most of the day just watching you, seeing what you do. You did normal cat things, and he began to wonder if you really were… well… you. Once you took a nap, and he woke you so you could eat. You trilled at him and he jumped off the ground a little in pure joy. He fed you only the BEST food. Meaning he fed you turkey slices and salami. He bought you a tiny sweater and made you wear it. You just… let it happen, really. At night, you snuggled up on his chest. He was so happy for someone who couldn’t breathe. He woke up before you and saw that you were a person again. He was a little sad, he wouldn’t lie. The tiny sweater was just sitting at the foot of the bed. He sat next to you and waited for you to wake up. When you did wake, he shoved some clothes in your face and told you “we’re getting a cat!”. You sighed, not really in a position to argue.

Yancy is confused. Why were you a cat? How did you turn into a cat? Do people just turn into cats nowadays? In any case, he stays away from you, mostly. Doesn’t want to hurt you. You look very fragile, he doesn’t want anything to happen to you. However, you are a cat, and are very curious. You know how the saying goes. He has to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don’t do anything you’re not supposed to. Such as: eat plastic, climb a tree, eat plastic, eat grasshoppers, eat plastic-WHY DO YOU KEEP EATING PLASTIC? Eventually he just decides to swaddle you in a blanket so you can’t move. That ends with you screaming in your little cat voice and him nearly crying before letting you go. He also gives you turkey as a treat because he feels bad. He tried to stay awake to keep an eye on you, but fell asleep in his chair. He woke up startled by the fact that he’d fallen asleep. He was also pretty sore. More importantly: oh god where did you go? He panicked, yelling your name while looking around. He found you asleep in your bed and sighed. He sat in a chair nearby and waited for you to wake up. When you did wake up he saw that you were… not wearing clothes… and coughed while looking away. He stuttered an excuse and left the room, blushing profusely. You smiled and got dressed.

Illinois is unfazed. Not the most normal of things to happen to people he knows, definitely not the weirdest. He’s more surprised that it didn’t happen on an adventure with him. Were you cursed? He knew a thing or two about curses. While attempting to figure it out, he realized that you were a cat. Like, just a cat. Like a “I will knock down every item above 2 feet from the ground” cat. You started knocking down objects he’d kept from adventures. Most were very sturdy, but a select few were very fragile. He caught most of them, but you were just too small and agile. He glared at you as he angrily swept up the pieces of broken artifacts from the floor. He sulked about it for a while, before you hopped in his lap and got comfy. He gave you a little smile before petting you as you napped. He fed you actual cat food he’d bought from the store, because he is a responsible pet owner. He also bought a feather toy for you to play with. He knew this wasn’t a very smart investment, but screw you, he was a grown man who could spend his money how he wanted. He laid down to sleep that night and you curled up onto a pillow right next to his ear. The purring was very soothing for him and he fell asleep quickly. In the morning, he was greeted with your face right in front of him. He smirked, seeing an opportunity in hand. He cleared his throat, and woke you up. Your eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to tease you. You stopped him by whacking him in the face with a pillow. You walked away to find some clothes while he laughed.

   There were a lot of decisions and choices that had led you to Happy Trails Penitentiary. A lot of unbelievable circumstances that involved aliens, teleportation, zombies- you could have been anywhere, done anything.

   But you don't mention it.

   There's no one to ask, so there's no one to tell.

   The creaking of the yard bench snaps you out of your reverie and you tilt your head to see Yancy has joined you, a little more bruised and bloodied then you remember him being this morning.

   You smile in exasperation when he grins crookedly over at you, but you still turn to face him completely, crossing your legs and pulling his bloody knuckles onto your lap as you dig into your pockets for the bandages you always seem to carry these days. A new habit now that you seem to have become the prison's unofficial medic when the others don't want to get taken away to the real nurses and doctors.

   "Listens', this new lughead knew that he had whats was comin, what with the way he was trying to treat Tiny- yousa know they don't deserve that dontcha? I had to step in for em."

   You hum, nodding in agreement as you wipe away the blood and dirt, noting idly that the cuts and scrapes didn't seem to be too deep this time around. Still, you keep your touch gentle. The quiet of the other man makes you look up in question, taking in the strange way he was looking at you. Something on your face?

   "Yous ain't much of a talker are you?" He says finally, breaking the silent moment.

   A shrug as you finish applying the wrappings, lightly tapping at his wrist to let him know you were done, and he pulls away. You smirk wryly over to him. He already knew you didn't really try to talk. Everyone was always conveniently able to fill the silence anyway, so why bother?

   "I s'pose I knew that already, yeah. Still felt like I needed to says it though."

   You knock your shoulder gently against him to show that you understood.

   It was a pleasant rest of the yard time, with Yancy filling you in on his observations over the rest of the newbies. An entire prison on the other end of the state had transferred its population to different places across the country. Some of the ones that ended up here had some shifty looks to them, but it's not your place to say.

   You tilt your head at some of them and he picks up on your drift, moving as if to pat your knee before changing his mind and pulling away quickly. You pretend not to notice.

   "I knows how to keep an eye out, don't you worry. I got em on the ropes," he winks and you roll your eyes, unable to hold back your smile or hide the way you find yourself relaxing at his assurance.

~

   Tiny sits at your feet as you run your fingers through their hair, trying to braid it as nicely as they usually do. They curse profusely every time they prick their hand trying to patch up the same shirt they were sewing up when you first walked over, though you suspect half of it is for your benefit, their colorful remarks punctuating the comfortable silence just enough to make you crack a smile every time. 

Now you lean over them, inadvertently interrupting them as you reach down to finger the white fabric in question.

   "This bloody fucken bi- what? Oh, yeah, this is Yancy's shirt."

   You freeze, staring at what was left of the long gash that ran along the side when they lift it up for your inspection, moving it closer to you quickly when they spot your look of horror.

   "No honey he's fine, see", they run their fingers over the mostly clean white edges, "No blood, next to whatever I'm getting on it," they laugh lightly, wiggling their fingers to showcase their fingers, and you wince in sympathy, making them stop so you can wrap bandaids around their fingertips.

   "I know I'm not very good yet, but everyone figured that since I was good with my hands, I might be good at sewing and some basic repair work," they huff another laugh, leaning into your touch as you continue untangling their long hair.

   "I thought so too, but turns out pickpocketing and needlework are two different skills." They shrug, finally putting the shirt down, work complete. "It makes me happy to do it though, so I practice to get better."

   You reach down to squeeze their shoulder and they smile up at you, passing up the shirt, "You wanna bring it to him? I promised him that he'd regret getting his shirt ripped again, but you got me in a merciful mood."

   He's been getting into more fights lately, and part of you wonders if this was something that had always been. Even before your time at Happy Trails. Tiny picks up on the way your eyes trace the old damage of the shirt, turning around to lay across one of your thighs to stare at it too.

   "Yancy's been going at it a little hard lately," they admit quietly, looking over their shoulder as if that was a secret. Maybe it was. Even someone like Yancy had limits, and it seems like he's been pushing closer and closer to his. "I mean, I don't really blame him. There's been a lot of talk going around the newbies that had transferred over. Not a lot of good talk."

   Your mind flashes back to the prison yard, to all of the things Yancy had told you about how they were targeting Tiny. Eyes hardening, you're sure that you wouldn't pull any punches if it meant protecting your friend.

   "-so just stick around the prison family and we'll keep you safe."

   You tilt your head, and they stare at you blankly before they snort.

   "Did you zone out?"

   A sheepish nod and they roll their eyes with a fond smile, pulling their hair into a quick braid before facing you more seriously.

   "There have been rumors about them trying to target you. From the way Yancy has been fighting, I think it's the truth, and I want you to watch out for yourself, okay?"

   That was certainly news to you, but at least your suspicions were proven correct- the newcomers were up to no good. They couldn't be trusted right now, if ever, and being caught unawares wouldn't do anyone any sort of good.

   You nod grimly, giving them a quick thumbs-up before heading out with the shirt clutched tightly in your grasp.

~

   Yancy's leaning over his notebook, predictably shirtless, when you push open his cell door, and he slaps it closed before looking up, shoulders rapidly tensing before relaxing again.

   "Oh, it's yous!" He grins brightly, opening up to the place he was at. Maybe he was working on another new song. Does he write anything other than music? But that's not the issue at hand. You hold up his shirt, staying resolutely by the door.

   Standing up carefully, expression turned curious,  he comes towards you slowly, as if he were trying not to spook you away. "Did ah, Tiny ask yous to bring that to me?"

   You nod and open your mouth before snapping it shut, tensing as he takes it back, and you stop him from putting it on. There are a lot of scars you don't recognize from the waist up, but that's to be expected. There is; however, one thin white line that matches the work that Tiny had done.

   Nudging his arm up, he follows your line of sight as you move your fingers to hover over the thin cut. Tiny had gotten the shirt this morning, so it had to be from some time between after breakfast and before lunch. Far too recently for your taste, even if you didn't want him to earn any more scars at all.

   "It's really nothing, I swears it," he lets out, pausing when you open your mouth to try and speak again. You fail. He continues. "It coulda' been worse, but I was faster than they was. I pulled away quickly, and b'sides, there wasn't even any blood from it."

   That makes you glare, and he sighs, ripping a page out of the back of his journal and passing it over with a pen. You're upset, but not angry with him, so you let him guide you to the chair in his cell as you jot down your words.

   'protecting Tiny again?'

   That was the lie he fed you, the story he had stuck to. You can see the way he weighs what he's about to say. He doesn't know what Tiny told you, and… that's okay. Really, it is. You don't expect the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but. So you take a deep breath, sagging against the table to move and write more.

   'I just worry Yancy. I know you say you've got it all "under control", but that won't stop me from thinking something bad is going to happen. I'm angry that you have to fight and stressed that you're gonna get too hurt one day, and I don't want that for you. You don't deserve it. They're suspicious and restless and a blind fool could see it.'

   He takes the paper, scanning the page quickly and passes it back with a sigh. For a moment, you wish that he wasn't as tired as he looked. But still, there's certainty and determination found in the set of his jaw and the glint in his eyes. You appreciate him for that.

   "I gotta fight. I can't let these peoples get to y- to my family, and I can't let any a them think that theys can take charge just like that."

   It'll become an old argument before too long you think, really looking at him. That's what prison life's for you suppose, deciding to play along for now. You could support him in more ways than one, deciding that this time would be with changing the subject.

   'cuz you're the boss man'

   The mood finally lightens when he crosses his arms smugly, chest puffed up and nodding in agreement, "Thas' right," before smiling more genuinely over to you, dropping the charade.

   "Lights out!" 

   The shout makes you both jump in defense, the both of you dissolving into shared muffled laughter.

   He pats the top bunk in invitation, and you hop up while he settles onto the bottom, the two of you accustomed to spending the night in one another's cells on occasion.

   You scribble one final note, blindly passing it down in the dark until you feel his fingers brush yours, carefully taking it. Turning over to get more comfortable, you can hear him trying to read what you wrote in the darkness.

   "Sorry for… sorry for the… paper? Sorry for the paper- oh!" He speaks louder, "Yous don't have to be sorry, s' no problem since I have the whole journal an all- ah, goodnight."

   Goodnight Yancy.

   It doesn't take too much longer before the sound of his breathing evens out, giving way to sleep.

   You lay awake for a little while longer, mulling over what you know. The outsiders were looking to cause trouble. Everyone knew that since they didn't seem too keen on keeping it a secret. They were going after you specifically for no apparent reason, and that was making Yancy fight for you. Was that the plan? Get to him through you, of all people? 

   Yancy?

   He wouldn't tell you why he was working so hard to be the toughest guy around, at least not the full truth, but you know anyway. It's sweet, in a way, him wanting to protect you. Did that make you somebody special? Dwelling on the thought for a moment, you finally dismiss the warmth that the idea brought you.

   He made you part of the family, and he'd do the same thing for anyone else.

~

   It's a week later when Yancy is ready to give the same sort of welcome he had given you when you'd joined prison life. A musical number and dance routine that had everyone scrambling to rehearse behind the backs of every new transfer. Maybe they knew what prison life was like already, but they didn't know Happy Trails prison life fully.

   It quickly becomes apparent that a lot more goes on behind the scenes than you had previously thought. The lighting that transformed the space had to be just right, and there was an assigned gaggle of people who moved around with the sole purpose of moving props to where they needed to go and when; and another section dedicated to the different costume changes. Instruments smuggled into the prison to accompany everyone singing (though it was hard to take the “secrecy” of the smuggling seriously when it came to the exaggerated way guards turned their backs at the sight of them, claiming that they didn’t see anything unusual. Every single time.). It was a big affair, everything considered, and all of it headed by Yancy whenever a question over logistics came up.

   Fights or not, he still wanted to be the first to offer the olive branch to anyone who would be willing to accept it, and whatever happened after that happened. Why not kick it off with the best show he could offer?

   You had requested to be a part of the audience this time around, overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle that everyone else was going through, and it really wasn't too hard to slip to the side so that all the newbies could get the same front-row treatment you had, and you clap along with everyone else once it ends, lights and music fading away into the normal stark and neutral atmosphere. The performance and showmanship was as charming as it was the first time, and you’re sure that this would be another show tune you wouldn't mind being stuck in your head.

   A presence steps just that little bit too close to your back, pushing slightly against your back and it puts you on edge instantly.

   "Hi there sweetheart."

   Glancing back showed you a man a couple too many inches taller than yourself, leaning into your space with a smile. He was well-kempt looking, with neat brown hair pulled back into a bun and an unnatural cleanliness about his state of being, but there was a tightness around his eyes that you didn't like looking at so closely.

   You wave in acknowledgment, subtly glancing around for any familiar faces to ground yourself, frowning when you only see strangers. He steps around to your front, hardly trying to put any space between you both in the process.

   "The name's Copper. After such a warm and lively welcome, I noticed you standing off all by yourself, and just got to wondering if you'd love to give me a bit of your time, considering you weren't a part of this performance. Maybe you could give me a solo?"

   Step away with him, or refuse.

   This was a choice.

   But not a very hard one.

   Shaking your head, you take a small step back, surprised when he immediately moves to follow.

   "Come on now, don't you want to get to know me and my friends?" he asks just loud enough to draw the attention of the people around the two of you, and you shake your head vehemently again. Surrounded on nearly all sides, no one you knew nearby unless you could manage to draw their attention. You wouldn't go down without a fight.

   Another presence steps up from behind again, and you nearly whirl around, fists ready, before the new voice speaks up, and you let yourself relax with a sigh of relief.

   "They said no, so I suggests you step off, eh pal?"

   Copper stiffens, a smile still plastered across his face as he sizes the two of you up together, "Well they didn't really say anything actually, and I'm just trying to make a new friend around here. Don't you wanna let them speak for themselves? Get to know me much better without you?"

   His smile gives way to a sneer, and the other growls, moving to pass you but you reach out to grab his arm and pull him back.

   "Yancy."

   It's enough to give him pause, and you tilt your head pointedly to the side. Your family had made their moves, and Coppers' eyes shifted around, catching on to the way that there seemed to be two Happy Trails residents to every transfer. Wait any longer and the odds would shift further out of his favor.

   When he turns back, you step in front of Yancy, staring him down until he turns away with a dismissive tsk.

   You grimace at his back, turning around with a huff to see that Yancy is still behind you with a dumbfounded expression while everyone else has drifted away. A silent moment passes and he still says nothing, so you raise an eyebrow in question, tilting your head.

   "Youse said my name."

   A nonchalant shrug doesn't stop the awed smile that slips onto his face, and part of you is glad that the weight of what you did isn't lost on him.

~

   Copper and his own group of buddies make a habit of stalking around in your peripheral, but it's hardly an issue when Yancy suddenly drops the pretense of leaving you to fend for yourself while he lurks in the shadows to deal with his own fights.

   Wherever he goes, you go, and when you leave he follows. A little overbearing? Maybe. But it's not exactly a chore to have one of your favorite people within arms reach at all times. 

   It's not like you were unused to hanging out with each other, plenty of time spent together a welcome memory. There was just the added possibility of a surprise shivving around every corner. Well, more than usual anyway. Some days you think it's a hard choice between that and the looks Tiny gives you when Yancy isn't looking, however.

   "All I'm saying is that it'd do you some good to not keep everything bottled up inside," they say, dramatically draping themselves over your shoulder as you watch the rest of the gang shoot some hoops. Safe on the sidelines, and out in the open so no one can bother trying to sneak an attack.

   You level them a flat stare, and they toss their hands up into the air in exasperation, "You can't lie to me, I can see the googly eyes you get whenever king jailbird is within five feet of you."

   An amused huff.

   "See, that's what they all say, but I'll have you know that I'm an expert. There's a prison family, and then there's prison fam," they hold up a single finger in emphasis, before fingerspelling, 'I L Y'.

   That's enough to make you burst into laughter, accidentally knocking them off as you slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, shoulders shaking.

   "Oh come on, are you trying to tell me that you haven't at least thought about it?" They question from their place on the ground, hands coming back to pillow their head as they gaze up into the sky, "Not once?"

   And you consider the question, you really do as you keep trying to stifle your giggles, eyes subconsciously landing on the topic of your conversation, surprised to see Yancy already watching the two of you with an unreadable expression until you make eye contact, and it drops for a more genuine grin as he jogs his way over.

   Tiny glances where you are with a smirk, subtly mouthing, 'not once?' as he finally gets to be standing above your spot, crouching down to be more level with you.

   "Not that I thinks you need it or anything, I had just been talking with one a the guards and had thought that, uh, maybe?" He fishes into the folds of one of his sleeves, offering a small pad of papers, "You might find a couple a sticky notes to be useful's to ya."

   Your fingers brush against each other as you accept the gift, and you aim your brightest smile at him. Because this was a gift, something he thought to get you out of the blue. And, actually, these would be really useful to you.

   Setting them to the side, you yank him off balance, pulling him into a hug as you try to at least whisper a thank you. You can't quite manage it, but you think he understands anyways when you hold him a little bit tighter before releasing him after he relaxes and he gets back to the game he abandoned.

   You pull out a pen from your pocket, already set on writing him a thank you note. Pausing only when Tiny reminds you of their presence once again, sending you a knowing smile.

   "I suppose I shouldn't have to ask you if you've thought about you and him. You already know the answer."

    You did. You do. Adding flowers and hearts to flourish the simple thank you felt like a victory to your heart. Allowing yourself time to ride the high of the warmth he brought didn't feel so bad.

~

   It's dark, and it's cold, and it's hot. What little shapes you can make out around you shift and glitch in shades of blue and red.

   The man in the suit isn't here. Not even the hollow shades of him that linger in places he has been.

   You wonder what day it is, where you're supposed to be. Remembering anything at all is suddenly difficult. This wasn't right. Stumbling alone in the dark, it's hard to recall what choices you made to end up in a place like… this.

   "Yancy?"

   Your voice echoes loudly back to you in this mostly empty space. There's not much time to be confused about why you know that name. There's no time at all.

   This wasn't where you had chosen. The prison, you think with finality. That was where you were supposed to be, and he was-

   A loud thump against wood grabs your attention, making your heart rate spike. The sudden illumination of a lone door distracting your slow confusion, replacing it with a dose of fear.

   Just past its opening, a figure is crumpled on the ground, surrounded by other familiar faces that turn towards you. They weren't supposed to exist together. The captain. The adventurer. The zombies and the nightmare.

   You lock eyes with the man on the ground, shaking at the crooked smile he sends you, reassuring even as he lay defeated.

   Someone grabs your arm, and you wrench yourself away, a scream ripping out of your throat as you finally open your eyes to deeper darkness. Real darkness.

   "It's okay honey, I swear, you're safe here, it's not real it's-"

   "Yancy?"

   Tiny takes in the ragged breathing and silent track of tears, and then they're gone. Between the space of one second to the next, they return, and a part of you distantly thinks that that shouldn't be possible. But stranger things have happened, you've seen it. Monsters and aliens, being lost at sea and eaten alive and.

   You can't stop yourself from flinching away from the next light touch to your arm, shoving yourself into the corner of the bottom bunk, and Tiny doesn't try again, instead gesturing vaguely behind themselves. You'll apologize later.

   Closing your eyes brings back the unfamiliar darkness, and you shudder at the afterimages of your dream, trying to pull yourself.

   They're whispering on the other side of the cell now, two voices that you know, arguing in hushed and equally panicked tones.

   "They want you right now, they won't respond to me-"

   "They's was calling my name? But, what if I make it worse? What if their nightmares was about me, I can't…"

   "Yancy."

      Hearing his voice and seeing him are two different phenomena, the fact is made apparent when he finally kneels within your line of sight, bringing on a fresh wave of tears. You scoot forward, reaching out a hand to latch onto his shirt before he has a chance to retreat, protests already on the tip of his lips, your head bowed low as you gasp for steadier breaths.

   Tiny comes back around, settling beside you on the edge of the bed, keeping just enough space between you to keep from scaring you away again. You will also thank them for this later.

   It's fine. You're fine. Yancy's fine.

   The dream was fake.

   Your other hand comes up to slap your mouth, and you choke on a muffled sob. The fear was real. The fear was real despite everything else, and a strangled noise escapes your throat when you can feel him standing up and slipping away from your grasp, because he would be on the floor again if you looked away for too long, beaten and bloody, pretending everything was okay-

   A bit of shuffling later, and then you move where you're guided easily, cradled against his chest, close to the comfort of his steady heartbeat. There is a stillness in the air, as you both adjust to the intimacy of being so close. Minutes slipping away easily, and you don’t want to keep track of the time it takes to settle. He eventually moves to rest his head on top of yours, smiling when he can feel the unmistakable way you relax into his hold, erratic breathing evening out.

   "From wheres I'm standin, your nightmare seems to have been about me," he says after a time, adopting what he hopes is a soothing voice. The bed dips again, and he and Tiny exchange a nod as they take their leave.

   "I'm scared that I did something awful to youse, and I don't know how to make it any better."

   Exhaustion pulls at your mind, and your eyes flutter shut of their own accord. He is the last thing you hear, before drifting off again, into a dreamless sleep.

   "But I wants to. I really do."

~

      You're on edge the next morning, but it's easy to pretend otherwise, sending Yancy a tight but otherwise genuine smile. He can tell.

   Expecting him to stick close throughout the morning, watching out for you the way he had been since Copper had harassed you the first time, you plan on appreciating his vigilance now more than ever because him protecting you means you don't have to worry about him leaving your sight in return.

   Fewer chances for your dreams to become a reality.

   Except, he waits until the moment you're settled in for breakfast to disappear. With the way the others seem just a little too attentive, trying to hold your attention, it's not hard to figure out that this was planned.

   It's only your own paranoia that's driving you to look for him, eyes darting around every time no one else is paying attention. That's not a lot of chances, but you can ignore it. You have to. He's fine.

   You take up Hanks' offer of taste testing some experimental hooch wine, silently giving Bam-Bam the rest when he turns his back, sharing a conspiratory smile. You never did get into the toilet drinks, but you were supportive of his enthusiasm.

   Distraction after distraction is set up to keep you busier than you've been since the very beginning of incarceration.

   By lunchtime, you still haven't seen hide nor hair of him, and it's only then that the thought strikes you to think about why Yancy wasn't around.

   Sliding a note surreptitiously to your left, Tiny pauses mid-bite to read your written note.

   'is Yancy avoiding me? did i do something wrong?'

   They sigh, taking in your carefully collected demeanor. You could be calm. No need to fret over something you couldn't control. If you had driven him away, then that was on you and you could take hearing about it. Except the thought of confirmation makes a feeling well up inside that you just want to be indifferent to.

   You blink rapidly down against the table, trying to stem the flow of the upcoming waterworks, and the rest of the gang gradually quietens as they begin to notice.

   Tiny doesn't hesitate to lay an arm around you, and you give a wet laugh when you hear the jingling of Sparkles' wrist cuffs before you see them, signaling his movements as he does the same on your right. Bringing your hands up, you scrub at your eyes, sending everyone a bright smile.

   It may have been more effective if you could actually stop the fresh track of tears.

   Jimmy's gruff voice breaks through the awkward silence, "We all agree that this was a dumb plan, right?"

   A chorus of agreements, and this time you laugh more genuinely as Tiny tilts their head, mulling something over, muttering, "Screw it."

   "Yancy was sent an invitation to fight this morning. If he won, then all the outsiders promised that they would leave you alone. And if he lost…" they trail off with a shrug, picking at their food with their other hand to avoid eye contact.

   "One guess for who challenged him to fight," Hank grumbles, twirling his fork with a look of disdain, “He ain’t worth the pretty penny he’s named after.”

   Oh for the love of-

   You push yourself up with a slam, and no one tries to stop you when you head to the doors.

   "In the showers," Tiny shouts helpfully, and you're sure that your answering smile must hold some hint of the manic determination you feel because they begin yelling words of encouragement at your retreating form.

   The overly emotional guard sends you a teary thumbs up, looking the other way from the gang’s rowdiness just this once.

~

   You can hear their conversation bouncing along the tiled floors and walls, louder and louder the closer you get.

   "Youse said that we was gonna settle this man's to man's," Yancy says from around the corner. He's not exactly grumbling, or letting any other type of strong emotion leak into his voice. But, you can see their shadows playing against a shower wall. His odds weren't looking too good if he was as alone as he seemed, outnumbered by the other shadows around him.

   “And we will,” Copper’s voice drifts over, and you don’t need to see his face to picture the condescending smirk he must’ve been sporting. “My buddies are just here…” the pause makes you grit your teeth in annoyance, the silence pointed and awful. “To motivate me. Cheer me on. Be my family. You mean to tell me that you don’t have anyone around here to be that for you-?”

   He cuts himself off, eyes zeroing in on you with a wolfish grin when you turn the corner, and Yancy glances over his shoulder with a frown, holding up his arm to keep you behind him.

   “What a lovely surprise we have here, don’t y’all agree?” You finally have the chance to size up the six people he’d brought along, and they all voice their agreement when they stare at the two of you.

   “However, a promise is a promise, wouldn’t you agree darling?” Now he only addresses you. “This is a one on one fight, and if I happen to lose, then that will be the end of it. But if he loses, then nothing will change, save for a little shift in power around here.”

   Yancy cracks his knuckles in front of you, and you take the step forward to stand by his side.

   “But- if you’ll reconsider my earlier offer, some different kind of one on one time with me, we’ll leave your boyfriend alone. Deal?”

   “Now just who do you thinks you-”

   You grab his arm and yank him back, “Yancy, no.”

   To Copper, you glare, shaking your head no. Yancy doesn’t move to shake your hold on his arm, and you don’t move to let go, waiting for the delighted looking Copper to make his next move.

   “So the little birdy does speak- too bad you aren’t willing to sing for me, but no matter. It’s a fight you want?”

   You nod, releasing your hold on Yancy.

   “Then it’s a fight you’ll get.”

   It’s almost as if the two men expect you to move to the side, the way Yancy braces for the first attack when Copper lunges forward. You don’t know who’s surprised face you like more when you don’t move, instead, pulling your arm back to give his smug face a good right hook, sending him sprawling.

   Gesturing for Yancy to step back, you turn around again and square up, waiting for Copper to get up again. Wiping at where a bruise is soon to form on his cheek, Copper sizes you up with new eyes, and you try to recall what decisions you made in this timeline. That’s right, Yancy and you didn’t have the showdown in this reality, you had chosen to stay until parole. Well. You’ll just have to show him what you’re capable of.

   You half expect the setting to change and fill with the distant cheering crowd surrounding the ring you’d been in before, but nothing quite so elaborate happens. Instead, you dodge and punch again. Dodge, take a hit to the lip, double-punch, sidestep. Jump over his legs when he tries to sweep your feet out from under you, take another hit to the temple, and you can feel the way it splits skin. Deliver the finishing blow and then he lay unmoving on the ground.

   Another one of his friends steps over and nudges his prone form with his foot and looks at you, impressed. “We’ll take him from here.”

   Good.

   You turn on your heel, waiting for Yancy to move behind before you leave, adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you move blindly through the halls. This leads you to Yancy’s cell, and you pace the floor while he fumbles at the sink, your hands balling and unfurling rapidly.

   The deed is done but your heart won't stop thundering away in your chest, eyes flitting about and returning to the door of the cell more often than not. If anyone else was looking for a fight you're ready to take them on. Take them down.

   A hand wraps around your wrist, halting your movements and you swing your other hand faster than it takes to spare a thought. Yancy catches the errant fist with the flat of his palm before it can reach his face and the two of you stand frozen in shock.

   Breathing is difficult, the air coming in and out of your lungs ragged. You're glad he was fast enough to stop you. 

   "Yousa tough cookie ain't you?"

   His fingers curl carefully around your fist, hand sliding around to the back of yours as he guides it to rest against his chest, just above the heart. Your hand slowly unfurls beneath his, fingers slipping between his own.

   "Things is-" he licks his lips, the ghost of a rueful smile taking residence on his face. "I think I've been goin about all this the wrong ways."

   Looking into his eyes is almost too much to bear. You don't look away from the earnest scrutiny of his admission.

   "I’m sorry about keepin youse in the dark- safety is all I wanted for yous, honest. The thought of any of those other bozos getting to ya just because I couldn’t be the fastest or strongest around to stop them…”

   Your free hand rises almost of its own accord, but the choice to slide your fingers along the line of his jaw to cup his face is a deliberate one. His own willful decision, to lean into your gentle touch is a balm to your heart, and his hand coming up to keep the two of you anchored together is a promise.

   "You don't have to make the tough choices on your own any more."

   You squeeze your eyes shut against the hope that blooms at his words, but it doesn't deter the way he leans your foreheads together, your lips a breath apart.

   "If you fight for me, I'll fights for you."

   A half-hearted shake of your head is all you can manage, but it's all that you want.

   "And, ya know- parole's comin up soon?"

      It feels like the easiest path to take. It must be with how light you feel at the prospect, opening your eyes to see a similar shine reflected back to you in his.

   "I love yous."

   It's a hanging offer. Your heartbeats have long since synched, breathing matched and even.

   Closing the scant distance still between.