Prompt 9: It's time for bitter truths to be revealed. Your OTP will need to reveal their feelings but it's not the fairytale, happy ending revelation. One of the two will have to deny the progression of the relationship and this has to be set in their POv.

*Bonus: Must pic three OTPs to follow the prompt and they have to be all different characters.

**Double points if someone cries in each story.

Answer: Definitely Kate and Richie, Seth and Scott, and Carlos and Freddie. I never thought of Carlos and Freddie as anything until I saw that post on Tumblr about them aggressively not killing each other and now I totally stand behind it.

Kate Fuller and Richard Gecko:

"Kate! Kate! Kate"

Richie's voice echoed around her like the sound of dirt being shoveled into her own grave. She wanted to bolt down the road and away from everything and anyone but she knew Richie was too fast and would catch her in an instant. Her feet slowed as she wrapped her arms around her body and tried to catch her breathing. She felt like her skin was on fast-forward but her mind was in reverse playing the past hour over and over again. She wanted to die.

"Kate!"

She may have stopped but she didn't turn around to look at him quite yet. Her eyes zipped over the landscape as her mind tried to uncover what had just happened. They were in the middle of nowhere on some dirt road between two vast farms that needed an epic festival to justify the space. Behind her was the "party mansion" that was the size of one of those many-office buildings and was home to Santanico, Richie, and their following cult. Richie's feet got closer and her shoulders stiffened.

The sound of a heavy sigh fell from Richie's lips and it was like a blizzard had escaped the arctic tundra. Kate's mind was working its way backward again and she had no idea how to stop it. For months Richie had invaded her mind and her peaceful and platonic bliss with Seth to beckon her into finding him and when she finally caved in what did she find? She had to shake her head to contain the emotions. It was frightening.

A breath escaped her nostrils as she lifted her hand to her forehead. He and Santanico were on some alter, naked, and talking in some strange language that did not sound Spanish or any variation of it. They were wearing headdresses that did not look Native American but more like the one Santanico wore at the Twister a short year ago. They had colors of paint Kate was positive could not even be identified on Photoshop. He looked so beautiful and happy…and then he began to kiss her and some orgy below commenced.

A strong grip grasped her arm and turned her around without her consent but before she could pull away there was Richie's soft lips pressing against hers. Her body reacted before she could and suddenly her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him in. For so long he had been in her mind with his near kisses but solid and real he held onto her as if she were the beat and he the heart.

But her mind would not let her enjoy the kiss for too long. She ripped her mouth away and managed to slap him so hard he let her go back onto her feet once more. Her hand stung, probably more than his cheek, but the adrenaline pumping through her allowed her to forget the pain for that instant, "You are NOT allowed to touch me, ever again!"

"Kate," it seemed her name was the only thing he could say and looking into his sad blue eyes confirmed that truth. She had never seen him look so devastated in his subtle way that was not so subtle at all. He was beautiful, especially in the feathers and the paint and the loincloth, but that could not rectify what had been done, "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Don't," it was a single word but it packed a powerful punch. Her finger was set between them as she backed away with wide angry eyes, "Don't you dare do that."

He seemed to be confused as he stepped forward while reaching for her, "Kate?"

"I saw you," she hissed, angry and detached tears spilling from the corners of her eyes. "For months I couldn't sleep because—because of you! And those visions! And you, invading my mind! I came here for you…it was all some joke?"

"No!" Richie shouted as he began to follow Kate, who had begun to walk away as soon as her sentence was complete, "If you're talking about what happened inside, that wasn't real. There was a final ritual we had to complete on the morning of the blood sun to finalize her freedom but it's…not because I love her."

His fingers formed a circle around her wrist but she managed to slip away before he could, "Don't touch me! I don't care anymore. Okay!? I don't care what you have to say."

"Kate, please!"

His voice was so desperate she was forced to stop in her tracks to look at the Gecko brother before her. It was strange how much…emotion was spewing from him and she found herself thinking of their first kiss and the one they just shared. Even if he didn't want to, Richie was known for his aloof exterior that often made himself distant toward others. But the man before her was unlike the one she knew before. He was hunched slightly, breathing hard, face twisted in pain as his arms hung forward as if hurt from her denial of his contact. He was perfect.

"You don't know how hard this is for me. Okay?" his voice was unsteady and definitely strained, "The whole intimacy thing…letting myself go and coming clean. I don't know how to make human connections, alright? I don't know how to do the right thing."

"So I deserve this?" Kate shouted. She sympathized and understood fully what he was saying and her heart was broken for the man she loved but that did not mean she deserve what she had been rung through, "You have been calling me for so long and when I finally answer you're there…with her!"

"I don't love her!" He was screaming at this point, tears strolling down his eyes, body shaking as if he would turn into a werewolf soon. "I love you, Kate. I regret leaving with her and not with you and Seth. I didn't mean to call you it just happens because I can't stop thinking about you and when I concentrate hard enough I just…I just make contact. I didn't want you to see that but dammit, Kate, I haven't been so happy in years. I told her if I ever saw you again I would leave and here you are on the day that she is finally freed from me? Kate, this can't be a coincidence."

What could she say to that? Her mind was a total blank and all that was there was the way Richie looked at her and the wind miles away. She wanted to give in. She wanted to give up. But even if it was unintentional he had put her through an emotional rollercoaster and a near psychotic break. The hurt was too recent. She couldn't breathe.

"I'm not asking for anything. But Seth is inside having a good time and…She knows I want to be with you. Just please…let me make it up to you?" his eyes were so sincere and so gentle she wanted to die.

But she could not give in, "No. I'm leaving…and I don't want you to follow me."

"Kate, wa-!"

"No, no, Richie," her voice was serious and her eyes were on fire, "I mean it. Tell Seth I said goodbye…I finally realized what I should have done a long time ago. I'm going to find my brother."

"Please, don't do this to me?"

"Richie, you did this to yourself."

Tears were falling down his face and he looked nothing more than like a darling child. It was heart breaking to watch, and heart breaking to let go. Kate Fuller turned her back to Richie Gecko once more and finally walked away.

Seth Gecko and Scott Fuller:

Dark, hot, and unbelievably foreign.

Although it wasn't really words flowing through Seth's mind that was the overall analysis he made of his entire trek from the bar to the safe house in Mexico he and Scott were shaking up in. He was disoriented and nearly lost but it was nothing he couldn't take care of. Hell, he had robbed a bank stoned and drunk because Richie said he couldn't—and he did it alone too.

The only thing that slightly concerned him was whether or not Scott was still sleeping like he left him. He knew it was a risk leaving like a bandit in the night but he needed his fix—especially after…it didn't matter. It wasn't a big deal, it definitely wasn't. Scott and Seth were bros. They had been traveling through Mexico for just under a year and in that time had become very chummy. They did the things they couldn't before; things like eating until they thought they would explode, playing bloody video games, doing terrifying driving stunts, and not talking about their emotions.

But he knew sure as hell if Scott were awake he would get a shit storm thrust upon him. And not even because of…what happened. They were together for eleven whole months, not separating for longer than ten minutes, and he left the house at ten and his watch told him it was currently one: thirty in the am. That was a total of three and a half hours away. That was unforgivable.

Seth made it to the door relatively quietly as he converted from drunkard to suave gentleman and thanks to some new hinges it opened smoother than Hollywood would have you imagine. The darkness seemed to have grown in the cavern of the house, which seemed like a good idea to Seth in the moment. Scott's door remained slightly ajar but in reality Seth didn't remember if he had closed it or not. He tried to listen for snores but Scott didn't snore so it didn't make a difference.

Behind him he shut the door slowly and walked into what was the small living room. In the middle of the living room was a small divide that separated it from the kitchen. To the left were the two rooms that Scott and Seth occupied while to the right rested the single bathroom. Seth considered where he might hop to first but he decided he would crash on the couch since he couldn't see a damn thing in front of him. The blackness of the evening and hour made it impossible to distinguish any features.

He paused with his back to the door, breathing light breaths of intoxication as his dulled senses tried to pick up on what ever his gut was telling him. He knew he shouldn't have left but he did anyway and he didn't care. His dad was dead—killed by his brother apparently—and his mom was gone and Scott's parents were dead—mom by some fake accident and dad by…choice he supposed (he didn't consider how Scott put his dad out of his misery murder)—so why all the dread. He was a man. He made his own choice. He shouldn't be afraid.

Click.

The light standing lamp beside the sofa clicked on to reveal a figure sitting in a slumped position. Panic seized Seth in the instant but suddenly the figure leaned forward to reveal in the light that it was indeed Scott. Seth wasn't sure if he felt better or worse at the sight of him…especially since he saw then that Scott had been crying. Not right then he wasn't but there were dried streaks that marked the path the salty drops had taken. The silence around them was almost impossible.

"Where were you?"

Seth plopped down on the other sofa to the right of him. He was still a little drunk and he was way too tired to deal with this mess. His hands dragged across his face in an unbearable manner as he let out a rough sigh, "I know. Okay. I know I should have told you, left a note, something. I know. I don't need a speech."

"I thought you were dea-"

"I understa-"

"No!" the voice that escaped Scott was harsh and deep and it got Seth's attention at once. His tone calmed then into that of a person that had been practicing what they would say between tears for hours, "You don't understand. Yeah, you know that the police, those weird vampires, and who ever else you could have pissed off are after you. Yeah, you know that because I'm with you they're after me too. Just like you know my mom is dead. Kate turned into one of those things and is off with that Satanic chick and Richie, and she tried to turn my dad and so I had to kill him. You know you are all I have left but you don't understand a damn thing."

Harsh. Definitely in the top three things Seth never wanted to hear while intoxicated and in the top five he never wanted to hear sober. Seth couldn't even look at Scott but the small circumference of light the lamp created made it impossible to look anywhere else. Seth did not want to participate in the moment and so his quickest plan of escape was a brief and grunted apology, "Listen, I'm sorry. Okay? You're right. I should have told you where I was going. I just needed to get away for a second, clear my head. It won't happen again."

He began to stand and when Scott didn't stop him he paused. Scott was looking hard in the direction furthest away from Seth and any possible route he would take. He was clenching his lip and tightening his jaw while his arms were folded almost like bulwark in front of him. His body was shaking and he was so tense and all of a sudden Seth realized what was going on. He was trying not to cry.

"Whoa, Scott," Seth plopped back down but in the crook of the sofa that was closest to Scott without being right beside him, "What's going on? It's not that big of a deal, okay? We're safe here. Nothing's gonna happen."

"It's fine," his voice was almost inaudible…but Seth could hear it.

"Hey," Seth's hand reached out to grab one of Scott's folded arms.

Scott shook away the touch as he angrily glared at him, "It's fine."

It was the way he said it that revealed everything to him. It wasn't fine. After last night it never would be. It wasn't fine for the exact reason Seth had to flea back to his drinks. It wasn't fine for the same reason their day was filled with awkward exchange. It wasn't fine for the same reason he had found the first chick he could to kiss away the memories. But they couldn't be kissed away, "Scott…"

It was the dead of night. Silent as could be when Seth heard the sniffs that broke the quiet. It brought him back to his years with Richie. Richie would have a nightmare and Seth would go and wake him up and lay in bed with him and then it was over. Back then, for Richie, all it took was knowing he wasn't alone to make him better. Seth pulled himself out of his room and drudged his way to Scott who quickly wiped his face with the sheets and declared he was fine. Seth didn't believe it.

Seth was shirtless and so was Scott but that didn't stop him from explaining what he would do with Richie and how he was sure it would help him too. Scott added how Kate would rub his back when he had a nightmare and laying chest to back Seth obliged. For a while Seth knew of Scott's helpless crush on him and for a while Seth enjoyed it but in that instant that wasn't what he was thinking about. The smoothness of Scott's back was nice along his calloused hand. It was like Scott's skin was water that could only reach the base of untouchable mountain ranges but the longer it stayed the more it seeped in. It was nice.

But then Scott turned around with this look in his eyes that was far different from anything Seth had ever seen. Scott's voice was a whisper as he told him. He told him everything about how he had been feeling. Seth didn't want to hear it and yet he couldn't force him to stop. Just like he couldn't force him to stop when Scott leaned in and kissed him.

Seth stopped him, told him it was late and said they would talk about it in the morning. But thanks to Seth they didn't. He woke up bright and early and made breakfast and went outside to do what ever he could. It broke Scott's heart, he understood, but he didn't know how he felt about any of it himself. That was what the bar was for. For thinking and there he decided what had to be done. A good talk with Scott in the morning about how he's too young and until he turns eighteen that shit wouldn't fly. In short it was a lie to hold him over until something or someone else came up. Seth was a ruined man, a ruiner of man, and could not cause ruin for someone so innocent like his companion. Seth couldn't love anyone but his brother and that turned out just fine in the end. Seth couldn't take another Richie. Seth hadn't even dealt with what happened with Richie. All Seth wanted to do was drown in his hopelessness.

But he was all Scott had. He had to toughen up. That was what he decided at the bar but in front of Scott crying that seemed like an impossible option. What was it about this kid's face that made him throw everything out the window? His eyes maybe. The innocence lost in his eyes. Seth took in a shaky breath as he looked toward the darkness, "I know you're upset that I didn't talk to you about last nig-"

"Stop."

"-ht, but you have to understand these things are hard for me. I don't do the talking th-"

"Just stop."

"-ing, you can ask my ex-wife. But the thing is you're too young and maybe when you're eightee-"

"STOP!"

Silence.

"JUST STOP TALKING! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!"

"Jesus, Scott! Just stop screaming, alright! Fuck!" Seth was stunned.

"NO! IT'S THE ONLY WAY YOU'LL EVER LISTEN TO ME!"

Seth's hands were reaching up to pat the air as if it would lower his volume as he yelled, "I'll listen! I'll listen, okay!"

Scott was crying, crying hard in a quiet way that was far more devastating than if he sobbed, "You don't get it. I could sit here for hours talking and you wouldn't get it! You are all I have! I don't have anyone else and I'm sorry I'm in love with you but you can't just shelf me until you think I'm strong enough to be abandoned! I know what you're doing! You're doing the same thing my dad did when he lied about how my mom died and you're doing the same thing Kate did when she found out and didn't tell me! You're leaving me behind and I can't take it! I'm tired of being left behind! I just can't do it anymore!"

Fuck.

It was as simple as Seth jumping ship and wrapping his arms around Scott to crush the kid against him. Seth knew all about being abandoned. He never wanted Scott to feel like this and he didn't want to hear Scott mumbling, "You can't leave me, you just can't leave me, you just can't."

"Scott…" he could hardly say the kid's name. He shut his eyes and simply focused on using his strength to squeeze out the pain deep inside of him as he whispered, "I'm not going to leave you but we can't be together."

There was no need for words anymore.

The night ended when Scott had finally cried himself to sleep in Seth's arms.

Seth was gone before the morning.

Carlos Madrigal and Freddie Gonzalez:

The strange thing about being a Culebra is that you are prone to undecipherable visions at any given time. Carlos used to believe Santanico would bless him with the gift of foresight but since their untimely departure from one another he uncovered that she had nothing to do with it. Maybe it was the gift of the Nine Lords or the Serpent God but that didn't matter to him. It was like receiving the car of your dreams from an anonymous donor. You don't ask questions, you just take it.

The vision in particular that got Carlos musing was one that had just struck him on his way to the meeting place he had arranged. It was an old firework shop down a hardly used high way through Texas, much closer to Mexico than anywhere else. He liked the place because they offered delicious sweets that he couldn't find anywhere else. The man who ran the shop was old and very rich but kept the place as an escape from his pestering family. All he wanted was to finish his crossword puzzles and Sudoku and be left alone and that was fine with Carlos.

Carlos saw himself in the back of the establishment eating one of his favorite little cakes with his back against the wall. He was staring out at the distance of cacti and reptiles and the vastness of nothing to come. That was until he saw a man. The man was injured, a fact made obvious by the way he stumbled and shuffled and lost his footing every now and then. The closer he got the clearer Carlos could see the man had been attacked by some animal because boy, oh boy did he appear to almost be shredded. There was blood all over him and through whatever material of clothes left on his body Carlos could see wild gashes that left a trail of crimson flittering behind him on the desert floor.

It was almost comical to Carlos but there was a frightening grip on him he could not comprehend. He didn't know the man so why didn't he laugh? The man drew closer and closer and in his chest the pain was deeper and deeper and it wasn't until the man collapsed on the floor that Carlos decided to go investigate his identity. On the ground, face first, and clearly dead he was and Carlos had a strange and frightening gut feeling to turn away but he could not. His alligator boot dug beneath the man's stomach and in a swift motion flipped him onto his back. The face of the man looked up and the cake fell from his hand and crumbled to the floor. He knew the man. It was Federico Gonzalez. It was his Rinche.

He nearly flipped the car with how quickly he came to a complete stop.

"What does that man?" he hissed angrily before gazing up and demanding, "What does that mean?!"

No answer.

"GRAAAAH!" his fist lashed out to his left and shattered the bulletproof window beside him as that gnawing and all consuming pain conquered over him. He had seen many people die and never batted a lash but Federico was not just another person. He squeezed the steering wheel, careful not to break it, as he continued to scream outright. Trunk packed with clothes, guns, and money, Carlos was on his way to meet Federico at that exact second.

Since he had laid eyes on the Rinche he had almost become obsessed with the man. The taste of his blood and his memories gave him a euphoria that surpassed money, gold, and death. His righteousness was so alluring Carlos denied every single order to take the man's life because he could not see him dead. And the feeling was mutual. His blood showed Carlos the truth Federico denied until the obvious was too much to bare.

After the Feast Gone to Hell, Carlos found Federico before he had made it home. Federico's mind took lots of convincing but his body was easy to sway. They spent one night together and swore to leave it at that but they both knew that was a lie. The tough thing was it was clear he absolutely loved his wife and his daughter but Carlos took pride and knowing he was a connection the Rinche did not want to break. On and off they met for a month until they decided that was no life to live and they would run off together.

Carlos wasn't completely heartless though. He gave an anonymous donation of one million dollars to Margaret and Billie and it wasn't as though they decided he would never see his daughter again. The decision to leave came as a surprise to Carlos but he wanted what Federico wanted and if that meant all of his time with him, so be it.

But not at the cost of his death.

Five hundred years of inexplicable visions and he still could not figure out what they meant before it was almost too late. He had to decipher it. There was Freddie, covered in slashes, dead. Could it be something is on its way to attack him? No. There was a specific sequence of images for that. Was Carlos going to hurt him? No. Freddie had been coming from the desert, heading straight for Carlos before he even knew who it was, already hurt before he had gotten there. Could it be…?

Wide-eyed. Petrified. Horrified.

That was the truth.

Carlos may not have given him the gashes but he was the one that would kill the Rinche he loved. Those wounds were symbols of the traumatic toll leaving his family would take and though he would still come and leave with Carlos it would no doubt lead to his death. Maybe not a real one but everything that made him the man he was would wither away. Carlos bit back tears as he stared angrily out the broken window. That wasn't fair. That was not fair for him. Santanico left with Richie and left him heart broken until he found someone he truly loved and now they couldn't even be together? That was unfair. That was unjust! He would not accept it…he had to.

When he had finally made it to the firework store Federico was already standing in front, holding onto two duffle bags with a grin on his face. It was enchanting to see his tough exterior gazing at the other end of the highway but once he turned his head to see Carlos he turned into a schoolboy. Carlos exited the car and Federico was already coming with his smile, "I thought you weren't gonna come."

That was it. Feelings off. He needed to call upon his five hundred years to get him through his harshest deed: breaking the Rinche's heart, "There's been a change of plans."

Freddie was still smiling as he walked to the truck, "Yeah, what's that? I fuck you in the car and you fuck me at the hotel? If so, I agree."

He leaned in for a kiss but with Culebra speed Carlos was able to deflect it. There came the first instance of doubt reflected in Freddie's squint. Carlos put on his mask and shut off his blood organ, "There will be no hotel…at least not for you."

Splat.

Crack.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The air grew thick and hot around them as the sound of Federico's heart splintering filled the air. Carlos almost gave up right there but he could not stop. He could not let the man he loved die, "I gave our relationship a little further thought and I think it's time it ends."

Crack.

The sound resonated through out Carlos as he watched the only person to make his dead-heart beat begin to crumble. Hide it as best as he may Carlos could still see the tears forming a thick glaze over the man's eyes. His jaw was clenched and his bottom lip was jutting out as he feigned strength.

"Why'd you come here then?" it was the voice he had used when he was on the edge of killing him. It was his strong voice filled with every ounce of bravery he had in him. It was a front. It was a lie. It was to hide the terror inside.

"I always terminate my business deals in person," that was it. Federico's nostrils flared in response to the third crack ripping its way across the man's heart. The first tear fell. Carlos could not stop. He had to keep going. A fake smirk filled his features as he glanced down to feign amusement, "You had no idea? You were no more than a foreign car to me but after a few test drives I have picked your flaws and have found I want nothing more to do with them. I have a new model, sports addition, waiting in the bed you have fantasized would be ours as you packed those ten-dollar bags. I want nothing more to do with you. I want to bury the memory of our very brief affair far into a lovelier, sexier, younger man. Don't ever contact me again."

His bottom lip was trembling and his muscles were twitching and it seemed to Carlos Freddie never had to deal with this kind of pain. Carlos wanted to vomit. He couldn't take anymore of his love's silent tears.

"Adios, Rinche," Carlos smirked as he turned around and went back into his truck. He made a U-Turn and headed back the way he had come. He would never forgive himself. He would never forgive the Serpent Lord for taking his only love away.