So, this is going to be quite a bit different for me.
I know I haven't written anything outside the Hellcat series, but there's a first time for everything!
See, I was watching an episode of Family Guy, and it inspired this.
Get ready for this to be OOC, because I'm bad a keeping people in character.
Caution: Drinking, triggering conversation, some blood, cussing. Ya'll can handle it, though, right?
So, based on the 150th episode special of Family Guy, "Brian and Stewie," I now present "Trapped."
Douglas
Of all the random tasks in the world he had ever volunteered for, Douglas wished he hadn't volunteered for this one.
Or, rather, that he hadn't been volunteered by his brother.
"Hey, Douglas, you're going out, right? You can go with Tasha. She keeps calling me. I think she's getting lonely. Can you keep her company?"
Ending up in a bank vault while Tasha dug through her safe-deposit box on the table was not how he planned to spend the first evening Donald let him have away from that Bionic Island in two weeks. All he had planned to do was return the suit he had bought for the ceremony. Now that the President had given the kids their medals, Douglas had no need for it. He'd just return the thing and get his money back. $3,000 was nothing to sneeze at. Of course, he had to do it by six that evening, or the store wouldn't take it back at all.
"Can you hurry up?" Douglas huffed at Tasha. "I have to return this thing by today."
Tasha glared at him. "You had two weeks to return it."
"This is the first chance I had to leave the island," Douglas muttered. He checked his watch. "And I only have an hour left to get it back."
"So sorry you got stuck with me," Tasha muttered.
Douglas glanced at the box Tasha had. "Why do you even have a safe-deposit box? What do you have that you can't just lock in Donnie's safe?"
"I have things," Tasha defended.
"Really?" Douglas raised his eyebrow, nodding at the broach she was holding. "That old piece of crap?"
"It was my grandmother's!" Tasha set it back down carefully in the box. "If you didn't want to come, you didn't have to."
Douglas narrowed his eyes. "Fine, then. I'll leave, Ice Queen." He picked up the bag he had placed the folded suit in and stalked towards the door. Before leaving, he turned back to her to leave one last stinging barb. "Wasn't planning to spend my time with you any-"
A loud bang cut Douglas off. Tasha's eyes widened, and she shoved past him towards the door. "No, no, no!"
Douglas finally turned around to Tasha banging on the now-closed vault door. "Help!" she cried desperately. "We're in here! Let us out!"
Douglas sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "God damn it. Tasha, stop. The door closes automatically at the end of the day. We can't get out until tomorrow."
"So we're stuck here?" Tasha hissed. "I can't be stuck in here with you!"
Ouch, Douglas thought. "You think I want to be stuck in a vault with my brother's whiny wife?"
Tasha turned around and narrowed her eyes at him. "Whiny? That's rich, coming from you."
Douglas gasped. "Me? Whiny? The hell is wrong with you, woman?"
"Yes, you," Tasha huffed. She rolled her eyes, doing a poor imitation of Douglas' golden voice. "Hurry up, I have places to be!"
"Listen here," Douglas snapped. "You're the one that insisted someone come with you! I wanted to just return a damn suit. Maybe visit a bar."
"That figures," Tasha muttered, rolling her eyes. "You have a day off, and you want to spend it drunk. For the record, I didn't want to spend time with just anybody. I wanted to spend time with Don."
Douglas spread his arms wide, setting his bag down. "Well, sorry my perfect brother isn't here. You're stuck with me until morning."
Tasha snorted. "Great. Stuck with you and your childish hair."
Douglas saw red. His hair was flawless. "You dare insult my hair? It is a silky lion's mane!"
Tasha opened her mouth to say something else, but seemed to think of something that excited her. Her eyes lit up. "You have your phone, right?"
Douglas gasped. God, he felt stupid. Why didn't he think of the phone? He pulled the phone out of his pocket, frowning at the battery level. "It's about to die. Got to make this call count." He dialed a number quickly. "Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up….Yes, can you transfer me to Customer Service?"
Tasha's howl of rage almost drowned out the representative that picked up. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, I'm calling to return a suit I bought two weeks ago," Douglas began. Tasha practically jumped on him, reaching for the phone. Douglas had to turn in constant circles to avoid her. "See, it doesn't quite fit right, and-"
The phone suddenly left his hand as Tasha shifted directions, catching Douglas mid-turn. Smart lady. She hissed into the phone, "Listen, he's going to have to call you back."
"Hey," Douglas huffed. "Give that back."
Tasha, however, glared at the phone. "It's dead. You wasted our one phone call returning a suit!"
"A $3,000 suit that I'm now stuck with!" Douglas snapped.
"You could've called for help!" Tasha threw the phone at him, pegging his chest. "Now, we're stuck in here until tomorrow!"
"Big deal," Douglas spat. "I've been in prison before. We'll get out tomorrow. Just calm down."
"Calm down?" Tasha rounded on him. Oh, hell. "I'm stuck in a vault with my husband's deranged brother, and I'm supposed to calm down? I'd rather be trapped in a home share presentation."
"Like I'm happy being stuck in here with a bitch like you?" Douglas retorted, rubbing his eyes with frustration. "What makes you think I like this?"
Several surprising seconds of silence followed, prompting Douglas to look at Tasha again. The rage on her face had been dissolved. Instead, she looked incredibly hurt. Douglas frowned, suddenly regretting what he said. "Tasha-"
"Save it," she interrupted, holding up her hand. She stalked off to the other side of the vault and sat in the corner. "We'll be able to leave in the morning. Just leave me alone until then. Deal?"
Douglas sighed, pressing forward anyways. "Tasha, you're not a bitch."
Tasha narrowed her eyes. She was clearly not about to forgive him anytime soon. "Just stay over there. Okay?"
After several moments of tense silence, Douglas decided to ignore her terse words. He walked over to the corner and sat beside her, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry. I really am."
A second later, Tasha sighed, too. "Me, too." A moment of tense silence passed again before Tasha groaned. "You know what I just realized?"
Douglas frowned. "What?"
Tasha closed her eyes, leaning against the wall and letting out a defeated sigh. "Tomorrow's Sunday."
Douglas felt his eyes widen. Banks were closed on Sunday. The vault wouldn't open until Monday morning. "Fuck."
Tasha
At some point in their idle conversation, they must have fallen asleep, because Tasha woke up with her head resting on Douglas' shoulder. His head was resting on her own, a problem that was accentuated by a loud snore he let out. Tasha rolled her eyes. He was almost as loud as Donald was. She carefully moved his head off of hers, causing him to lean back against the wall. She was thirsty, and she couldn't really get a drink with him leaning on her. Careful not to wake him up, she crossed the room to her safe-deposit box. Sighing, she picked up a green bottle, opened it, and took a swig to wet her tongue, coughing a bit.
A dull bang caught Tasha's attention. Douglas' snoring cut off abruptly, followed by shuffling that made Tasha glance back at her brother-in-law. He was sitting up, obviously having fallen over. He dusted himself off, standing in an attempt to look more sophisticated than he did at that moment. Tasha almost rolled her eyes again. He ran his fingers through his hair to spike it a bit before nodding at the bottle, frowning. "Is that liquor?"
Tasha shrugged. "Yeah. I was kind of saving it, but I figured why not?"
Douglas tilted his head, gently taking the bottle and swallowing a mouthful. He gave it back, nodding. "Nice. Saving it for what occasion?"
Tasha shrugged, taking another drink. She tried to suppress her coughs this time, slightly envious that Douglas could handle it better. Then again, he had more experience with drinking. She barely touched wine, and even then, just half a glass. "Nothing," she answered finally when he took the bottle again to drink some more.
"Never pegged you as a drinker," Douglas stated.
"I'm not," Tasha responded. "I was just thirsty."
Douglas smirked playfully. "Just thirsty. Right. That's why you keep a bottle of liquor in here, eh? In case you get locked in the vault?"
"I just do," Tasha muttered. "What's with the questions?"
Douglas held his hands up innocently. "Just curious, 's all."
Tasha snorted. "You're gettin' drunk."
"An' you're not?" Douglas responded, actually giggling a bit.
Tasha started giggling. She usually didn't get drunk, but it was fun. Her head was tingling delightfully. In fact….
"Oh, Douglas, I feel like dancing!"
Douglas shot her a quizzical look, clearly amused. "Seriously?"
"Yeah!" Tasha grinned, moving herself in what she thought was a good set of dance moves.
Douglas started laughing. "Hell, no. Let me show you how it's done."
Tasha started laughing, too. Whatever Douglas was doing, it certainly wasn't anything resembling a coordinated dance.
Laughing and dancing still, the two of them drained the bottle a swallow at a time, both giving pointers about dance moves before failing to perform the move themselves. But Tasha didn't care. It was fun. In fact, it was the most fun she had had in a long time.
Honestly, when Donald had proposed that Douglas accompany her that evening, Tasha had been skeptical. Now, though, she was glad that he was along for the ride. Douglas was fun.
Douglas gasped suddenly. "Oh, my god, Tasha!"
Tasha stopped dancing, frowning. "Wha'?"
He clapped, crouching down a bit. "Okay, ready? You listening?"
Tasha nodded. "I'm listenin'."
"What if…." Douglas paused for dramatic effect before finally finishing. "What if we pierced my ear?"
Tasha frowned for a second. Normally, she would say no, but….
"Yeah, okay. Let's do it."
Douglas fixed her with a look. "Look at me, Tasha. Look at-look-I'm very serious. This is my serious face."
Tasha nodded. "Yeah, me too. Pull the trigger. Do you – do you have a needle?"
Douglas gasped again. "The suit has a pin in it!" He scrambled to the bag, rustling through the clothing until he triumphantly produced a pin. He quickly handed it to Tasha, grinning. "We're really going through with it?"
Tasha nodded.
Douglas giggled, hopping from foot to foot in a circle energetically. "Oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god!"
Tasha giggled, grinning. His energetic display was so reminiscent of Donald when he was excited. They were definitely brothers. "Okay, okay, first, let me just say that I admire how brave you're being right now."
Douglas stopped jumping. "I know, right? We are so us right now."
Tasha grabbed hold of his ear. "Okay, hold still."
"Okay, okay," Douglas responded excitedly, holding still.
Tasha pressed the tip of the pin to Douglas' earlobe gently, concentrating. Then, impulsively, she shoved it through as hard as she could.
Douglas screamed, swatting at her hand. Tasha backed off, apologizing profusely. After a second of whimpering, Douglas turned back towards Tasha. "Does it look okay?"
Tasha frowned at the injury. "The pin's still stuck in there. Hang on, let me just…." She grabbed the pin, pulling it fully through.
Douglas yelped again, clutching his earlobe. This time, it took a full moment before Douglas moved his hand. "Okay, okay. Shouldn't we pu' an earring in there so it doesn' close?"
Tasha frowned, squinting at the injury. Despite the blood that was now coating his earlobe and cheek, Tasha could clearly see that his earlobe was ripped through completely to the very bottom, splitting it almost in half. "No, no, I think it's good."
Douglas nods, smiling. "Good." He sat up on the table. "So….I have a question."
"Okay," Tasha responded. "Shoot."
"Donnie…why him? I mean, you could have anybody you wanted, but you picked him? He's a spoiled brat." After a second, Douglas gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry, I offended you."
"No, no, you're fine," Tasha reassured him. "When we were dating, he wasn't a spoiled brat. He still isn't. He's sweet, and kind, and he would always listen to me. And Leo liked him. He never liked the other guys, but he liked Donald."
"Oh," Douglas responded. "So…it was for the money?"
Tasha scowled. "Are you kidding me? It wasn't about the money! He's the nicest, most perfect man I ever met. How could you even say that?"
Douglas shrugged. "Just callin' it like I see it."
Tasha scowled. "Oh, okay. Donald's criminal brother is goin' to tell me why I fell in love with Donald. Your own kids don't even call you 'dad' because you're a sociopath who tried to enslave them! Besides, where is their mother? Or did you just steal them from somebody else?"
Douglas narrowed his eyes dangerously. "You can' be serious."
Tasha shrugged mockingly. "Just callin' it like I see it."
Douglas stood up. "You wanna go there? Hmm? All right. You know that Don lives on that Island all the time to get away from you, right?"
Tasha snorted. "Yeah, right."
"It's true," Douglas pressed. "And why wouldn't he? You're just an annoyin', clingy nag with a failing career. You're going nowhere in this world, and the only reason Donald hasn't divorced you for someone else – someone who can keep up with him intellectually – is because he likes Leo."
Tasha felt tears well up in her eyes as she ground her teeth. "That's not true."
Douglas spread his arms wide, hissing. "You asked to spend time with him, and he sent me! He brushed you off on his criminal brother. No sane person would leave me alone with a loved one! He doesn't care about you. Only Leo. You're a packaged deal, nothing more."
Tasha could feel tears starting to spill down her cheeks now. She clenched her fists, feeling more enraged than she ever had in her life. "I should kill you for that!"
"Oh, yeah?" Douglas spread his arms out wide. "You and what gun?"
Tasha clumsily grabbed at her safe-deposit box, hooking out a pistol and pointing it at Douglas. Her more rational side was telling her to calm down, but the alcohol coursing through her veins took control.
"Ooh, Tasha's packing heat," Douglas whistled. "You don't have the balls to shoot me."
She cocked the gun. "Try me."
Douglas suddenly seemed worried. "Okay, okay, you can put that down now."
"Shut up," Tasha snapped. "You said enough."
"Tasha, stop pointing that at me," Douglas hissed, swatting at the gun.
Tasha's finger slipped, firing the gun.
The bullet hit the metallic deposit boxes lining the walls with a ring as it missed Douglas and ricocheted, flying back towards the opposite end of the room at top speed. Screaming, both Tasha and Douglas scrambled to get out of the way as the bullet continued to ricochet off walls at insane speeds, putting both in danger. After a second of running, Tasha stumbled over her own feet – damn alcohol – and fell, hitting the floor with an alarmed cry. However, before the bullet could even get the chance to hit her, she felt herself being dragged forcefully along the floor. A weight landed on her back, pinning her down until the hard thunk of a bullet embedding in wood as it hit the table signaled that the danger was over.
It was then, as silence fell, that Tasha realized that whatever was on her back was trembling. Douglas had used himself to shield her from the bullet.
He must have drank way more than she thought, because he was supposed to be a coward instead of a hero.
"Tasha," Douglas said quietly in her ear, moving off of her, "I'm sorry…again."
Tasha nodded, sitting up only to find her movement limited by the table Douglas had dragged her under. The room started spinning from the rapid movement, but she pressed on, anyways. "I'm sorry, too."
Douglas
When Douglas woke up, he found that Tasha was already awake. She was reading a book, her expression betraying the hangover headache she had. Yawning, Douglas sat up – when had he gone to sleep? And why was it under the table? – and crawled out, wincing at the sudden change from dim to bright light. The action sent shockwaves of pain through his skull. Why did drinking always have side effects? "Morning, Tasha," Douglas mumbled, moving to sit beside her.
Tasha glanced up from her book. "Morning. Question: Does your ear hurt? It looks like it hurts."
Douglas frowned, reaching up to touch his ear. When he pulled his hand back, he gasped at the dry blood that had flaked onto his fingers. "Holy shit, what happened?!"
"We pierced it last night, remember?" Tasha answered, nodding towards a small pin on the table.
Douglas frowned, then winced as the memory came back. She just had to mention something. It hadn't been hurting until he touched it. "Oh, yeah." He chuckled a bit. "A lot of crazy stuff went down last night, huh?"
Tasha nodded quietly, turning her attention back to her book.
Douglas nodded himself, letting his eyes wander around the room. He wondered if anyone had kept anything remotely edible in their safe-deposit boxes. Probably not, but the thought helped soothe his hunger just a tad. Until he finally let his gaze rest on the pistol on the table.
Douglas frowned. "Tasha?" When she hummed, Douglas nodded towards the table. "You have a gun."
"Yeah, I do," Tasha responded, still reading.
Douglas sighed, trying again. "It's just…you're the most anti-gun person I know. I mean, you rant about stricter gun control all the time. You're the last person I'd expect to own one."
"Well, that's why I keep it down here," Tasha said, looking at him finally.
Douglas furrowed his brow. "I don't understand. Why have a gun if you're not going to use it? It seems like a waste to me."
Tasha scowled. "Look, I just have a gun, okay?"
"I'm just trying to understand, Tasha," Douglas pressed. "I can usually figure stuff out, but not this. A bottle of liquor and a gun? That's pretty much all anti-you."
"Just let it go, Douglas," Tasha muttered, looking down to read again.
"Come on," Douglas responded. "I'm good at keeping secrets. Did you shoot someone?"
"No," Tasha huffed, sighing. "You wouldn't understand."
Douglas tilted his head as her expression seemed to fall. "I can try."
Tasha sighed heavily again. She looked at the gun, then the empty liquor bottle, and then the wall across the room. "I keep it in…in case…in case I ever want to commit suicide, okay?"
Douglas furrowed his brow again. The answer was far from what he expected. Hell, he didn't even know what he had expected. "Suicide?"
Tasha looked back at the book, nodding.
"And the bottle of liquor was –"
"Last drink," Tasha confirmed, not looking at him.
"Wow," Douglas responded, leaning more against the wall. "A gun, eh? They're so messy."
"I just figured that it would be quickest," Tasha mumbled.
"Well, yeah, I guess," Douglas conceded. He scooted a bit closer to Tasha, pressing his shoulder against hers in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "I still don't get it. What do you have to be so unhappy about?"
Tasha was silent for several moments. For a bit, Douglas was worried that he had offended her, but his fears were unfounded. After a heavy sigh, she finally started talking. "Everything you said last night? About my career failing and Donald wanting to escape me at that island….It's true."
Douglas frowned. "It's not –"
"It is," Tasha interrupted, sniffling. Tears started to roll down her cheeks. "He spends most of his time with the students and kids. And Leo's not home anymore to keep me company. It get very lonely in that mansion without anybody. Especially without the family I had grown so used to. So, having the gun here – knowing there was a way out – it just helped." When Douglas was silent, she nudged him. "Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"
Douglas sighed. "I don't know what to say. I mean, suicide. I just….I think that's pretty damn selfish of you."
Tasha shot Douglas a quizzical look, wiping her eyes. "What?"
"You heard me," Douglas said, crossing his arms. "You have a family that loves you, and you'd just leave that all behind for nothing?"
Tasha looked a little bewildered. "You said yourself that Don doesn't –"
"Stop," Douglas interrupted. "I didn't mean a word of that last night. I was just trying to hurt you because you hurt me. In all honesty, I'm doing good to get Don to shut up about how much he misses you for five minutes. Every single day, he talks about how beautiful you are, and how understanding and patient you are with him and the kids. Most women would have left him by now, you know. And I happen to know that his room has a dozen and one pictures of you all over the place. He doesn't always think things through – he'll put those kids and the students before anything – but you're his wife. He loves you more than anything in the world."
Tasha smiled very, very slightly. "Even money?"
"Even money," Douglas confirmed. "And he's not the only one."
Tasha raised her eyebrow. "Really, now?"
Douglas nodded, feeling heat rise in his cheeks as he mumbled. "I don't hate you. In fact, I rather like you. I…I care about you a great deal. Hell, one might even take it further than that. I…I love you." After a second of uncomfortable silence, Douglas started talking quickly. "And not in a 'leave Donald so we can elope' kind of way, or anything like that, but in the same way that I love Don and the kids. I know we haven't known each other very long, but you're still like a sister to me. The last thing I want is to lose you." He then smirked. "As for your career, let it fail. Your husband's loaded. You never have to lift a finger again, if you don't want to."
Tasha laughed a bit, sniffling and wiping the last of her tears away. "Why did he send you to spend time with me Saturday? Why didn't he just do it himself?"
Douglas sighed. "I didn't want to ruin it, but he's been spending spare time making travel plans. Just you and him, a week in Paris. Apparently, he was expecting the travel agent to call and didn't want you to get suspicious."
Tasha gasped, squealing excitedly. Douglas rolled his eyes, but smiled. He looped an arm loosely around her shoulders and squeezed in a kind of hug. "So, no more of this suicide business, okay?"
Tasha nodded. "Okay." She grabbed Douglas' wrist and twisted it gently to see the watch. "We still have a few hours left until they open the door."
Douglas nodded. "Monday morning already, right? Time flies when you're drunk."
Tasha smiled wryly. "Please don't tell anyone that I was drunk."
Douglas snorted, but smiled, letting go of her shoulders to rest his arms on his knees. "Scout's honor." Then, he nodded at the book she was holding. "Nineteen Minutes, huh?"
She shrugged. "I like Jodi Picoult."
Douglas nodded. "Mind if I read over your shoulder?"
"Go for it," Tasha responded, moving the book over so they could both see it. "Let me know when to turn the page."
"Tasha, I promise that I can read faster than you," Douglas gloated. "When you're ready to turn the page, just turn away."
The next few hours passed very quickly, both of them reading and, occasionally, discussing the book at hand. It wasn't until the vault door gave a low groan that the two paid any attention to the vault that had been their prison for two days. With a relieved sigh, Tasha packed her safe-deposit box back up and locked it away as the door swung open. "Finally. Do you think they're looking for us?"
Douglas grinned. "I think Donald is sure that I kidnapped you or something. Want to go visit the Island to reassure him that you weren't brutally murdered? He'd be glad to see you."
Tasha smiled, nodding. "And I promise to act surprised about Paris."
"Good," Douglas responded. "He'd throw me in the ocean if he knew I told you."
Tasha and Douglas kept straight faces for a second before both burst into a fit of laughter, shocking bank employees as they left the vault together.
Eh, not the best, but there's so little contact between these two that I was itching for something. Honestly, I don't even think I've seen anything resembling a Douglas/Tasha family relationship, so I figured that I might as well pull the trigger on this idea.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed. :3
