Reform
Specs/Dutchy, AU, Newsies fic
NekoShininigami
Ok! I will now begin the ritual of Shout Outs! ^_^
Corky Higgins: ::slides toward you on knees, splats pie in face:: TA-DA! ^_^;; Thank you.
Stage-sama: Damn straight he's an awesome smartass. ^^; Look no further than here, my friend!
Vinyl-san: ^^; I'm glad you like it. ::humble bow:: Here's more for j00, Wise Spot/Jack shipper (and writer of Drag Newsies).
Ann-san: Eeep! ::Tackled:: Mush is mean because.well, he just is. ^^; Savage Garden ROCKED. I'm so sad they broke up. ;___;
Sphinx: Two times is NOT enough Tom Cruise, thank you. And Mush *is* mean, because I say so! And, for the LAST time, get out of my head, damn you!!! ::kick::
AN/Disclaimer: The feedback for "Reform" has all been positive so far! Thank you soooo much, reviewers! I'm so glad and flattered that you like it! I hope to put in some romance and flashback content in this chapter. If it doesn't happen, please don't be surprised to note that I have gotten sidetracked. ^^; As you all should know by now, I own NOTHING.
Chapter Four: Silent Reverie
[You are pulled from the wreckage Of your silent reverie. In the arms of the angels, May you find some comfort here.]
"Ah, home sweet home!" Dutchy sighed as he opened the door to the apartment. "Man, I am BUSHED. See ya tomorrow, Specs." With that, the blonde man disappeared into his room, the door shutting firmly behind him. Specs stood, paused, in the hall, quite out of sorts.
"Good.night?"
//////////\\\\\\\\\\\\
A loud scream pierced through the silence of the night, waking Specs instantly. He fumbled around in the dark for his glasses, and slipped them on, peering at the digital clock by his bed. It read 4:30 a.m. Specs sat perfectly still, waiting for another outbreak of noise.
"STOP IT!" The cry came from Dutchy's room. Specs jumped up and dashed into the hall, wrenched open the door and saw. nothing even remotely perilous.
Tangled up in sheets and blankets, forehead coated with a thin sheen of sweat, Dutchy squirmed around on his bed, eyes squeezed shut.
"Please, Blink! Don't do it! Please!" he pleaded to the haunting presence in his dream. "Wait, please, I can explain!" Specs crept closer, finally realizing that Dutchy was in no immediate danger, simply held prisoner by a nightmare. ((AN: *Billy Madison* Oooh, you're a quick one!)) He placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder, gently shaking him.
"Dutchy," he called softly. "Wake up, Dutchy. Dutchy." Dutchy's eyes flew open. "Blink!" He looked around; his gave eventually landing on Specs. ".Specs?"
"You had a bad dream," Specs said, trying to explain his presence-- *shirtless* presence-in the room. "I heard you scream and thought you were in trouble."
"A dream?" Dutchy echoed, running a hand through his hair. "God." Just then, something on the blonde's torso caught Specs' eye. A long, fleshy scar ran from the bottom of his chest, past his navel, down to the top of his waistband. ((AN2: ::wiggles eyebrows at Ann::)) His eyes widened. Dutchy followed his gaze, and blushed slightly
"It's just an old battle scar," he said, feigning a flippant attitude.
"Battle scar?" Specs repeated, eyebrow raised.
"Yup. Long, involved story."
"Tell me?" Specs asked.
"Well.I guess. I mean, if you really want to hear it.."
//You are entering the FLASHBACK ZONE. Due to strobe lights, you should not ride if you have epilepsy!\\
Dutchy is walking down an abandoned, rusty train track. About two yards down from him, there is a small form, just barely visible. As Dutchy gets closer, the details of the man take shape. He has blonde hair, very much like Dutchy's own, and is a bit taller; more intimidating.
"Blink!" Dutchy calls out. The man stands stock still, giving Dutchy no indication that his call was heard. Dutchy reaches him and stands before him, feet shuffling nervously.
"Where is it, Durecht"? The other blonde asks, finally speaking. Dutchy goes a bit pale, trying hard to keep a normal expression on his face.
"I.uh.don't have it, Blink." Blink turns, a sudden flow of motion, and grabs Dutchy's shirt collar.
"What do you mean, Durecht? Please tell me you're joking, because you *know* how I hate to be let down. Especially by a good *friend*. Right, Durecht?" Dutchy swallows hard as he is lifted off his feet.
"Blink, I can explain. Listen, ok? I had trouble with my bank account and couldn't get the money for it. But it wasn't my fault, honest!" Dutchy hears a growl.
"You promised me. You say you had trouble with your bank account? Well, you're about to have trouble with me." Blink throws Dutchy to the ground. He reaches into his pocket, and Dutchy sees a flash of silver.
~Oh, God. He's got a gun. I'm going to die,~ Dutchy thinks. There is a noise of sudden movement, and Dutchy finds the sharp silver pressed to his throat. ~What? A knife? Christ, that's just as bad!~
"Please, Blink! Don't do it! Please!" Dutchy cries, scrabbling on the unforgiving iron rails of the track. Blink follows, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Wait, please, I can explain!" The steel toes of his boots clank against the rails as he scrabbles for freedom.
"I already heard your explanation, Durecht, and I don't accept it. Now you're going to find out what happens to those unfortunate people who break their promises to me." He comes forward another foot, and Dutchy does the only thing he can think of: he kicks hard into his attacker's face. He hears a cry of anguish and something falls on top of him. "You'll pay even more for that!" Fortunately, Blink is half-blinded by Dutchy's kick, and misses his intended target- Dutchy's heart.
Dutchy feels the knife plunge into him right to the side of his ribcage. Blink drags it down in frustration and blinding pain, curving it centimeters away from his navel to a few inches below it. Dutchy tries to cry out, but the pain is so great that only a strangled gasp escapes his lips. He hears Blink scream again; an endless stream of obscenities, feels him roll beside him onto the tracks. Liquid fire spreads over Dutchy's abdomen, but the pain is fading, his senses fading out. Dutchy's eyes close.
An old lady, living at home alone a block from the tracks, hears the screams. She runs to the phone and dials 911.
//Thank you for riding the FLASHBACK ZONE! Enjoy the rest of your day here at.wherever it is that we are.\\
[So tired of the straight life. That everywhere you turn-vultures and thieves at your back. Storm keeps on twisting. Keep on building the lies that you make up for all that you lack. Don't make no difference, escaping one last time. It's easier to believe.]
Nostalgia proved too much for Dutchy, and he doubled over, sobbing. Specs hesitated, unsure of how to react. Tentatively, he reached over and patted the weeping man's shoulder. Unexpectedly, Specs found himself with an armful of Dutchy, as the blonde buried his face into Specs' bare chest. Specs relaxed after a moment, hugging Dutchy, trying to soothe him with gentle whispers.
Dutchy huddled closer until the sobs drifted into occasional sniffles, the tears dried to salty tracks on his cheeks. He lifted his face and smiled softly at Specs.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "For listening to me, I mean." Specs smiled, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug.
"It wasn't a problem. I'm sorry I made you tell the story. You didn't have to, but you did. That deserves a 'thank you', too." Dutchy smiled, still looking deeply into Specs' eyes. They lapsed into a brief silence, until Specs began to feel twitchy and uncomfortable at being stared at. "Um.Dutchy?"
The blonde regarded him in a serious manner, though lust sparked in his eyes.
"Dutchy?"
"Specs?"
"What?"
"I'm.going to kiss you now." With no further warning, lips met lips in an awkward first kiss. Much to Specs' surprise, he found himself not pulling away, actually enjoying this embrace. His arms wrapped around Dutchy's briefly, until, finally, his brain registered what it was they were actually DOING. He pushed himself away, tumbling off of the bed. A trembling hand was pressed to trembling lips, eyes wide in shock.
"Oh, God." The two whispered words echoed in the still and silent room.
~End Chapter 4~
Author Notes: Oh, BOOYAKA! Who's the bomb? You asked for more, and BOY did you get it. This is probably the longest chapter yet. Therefore: I WANT REVIEWS! DOZENS OF THEM! DELIVERED TO MY DOOR IN SACKS BY UPS GUYS.
.Please? Anyway, thanks go to Stage for the idea of using Blink as the attacker. Dutchy's boots weren't really.erm.*cowboy* boots. They were.uh.steel-toed hiking boots? O_o; Work with me, people. Thanks also go to Stage and Ann for being worshipful betas. I praise j00 b07|-|. (You both, Anne. That's what it means. ^_~)
I'm a Slashy Lady now! Thanks, Ann and Stage, for the official dubbing. ^_^; (Hell YES, I'd buy a shirt.)
Ok. I'll shut up now. Reform, Chapter Four, wrapped up and 1:50 a.m. (See how hard I work for you people? It's because I love you. You know it is.)
Specs/Dutchy, AU, Newsies fic
NekoShininigami
Ok! I will now begin the ritual of Shout Outs! ^_^
Corky Higgins: ::slides toward you on knees, splats pie in face:: TA-DA! ^_^;; Thank you.
Stage-sama: Damn straight he's an awesome smartass. ^^; Look no further than here, my friend!
Vinyl-san: ^^; I'm glad you like it. ::humble bow:: Here's more for j00, Wise Spot/Jack shipper (and writer of Drag Newsies).
Ann-san: Eeep! ::Tackled:: Mush is mean because.well, he just is. ^^; Savage Garden ROCKED. I'm so sad they broke up. ;___;
Sphinx: Two times is NOT enough Tom Cruise, thank you. And Mush *is* mean, because I say so! And, for the LAST time, get out of my head, damn you!!! ::kick::
AN/Disclaimer: The feedback for "Reform" has all been positive so far! Thank you soooo much, reviewers! I'm so glad and flattered that you like it! I hope to put in some romance and flashback content in this chapter. If it doesn't happen, please don't be surprised to note that I have gotten sidetracked. ^^; As you all should know by now, I own NOTHING.
Chapter Four: Silent Reverie
[You are pulled from the wreckage Of your silent reverie. In the arms of the angels, May you find some comfort here.]
"Ah, home sweet home!" Dutchy sighed as he opened the door to the apartment. "Man, I am BUSHED. See ya tomorrow, Specs." With that, the blonde man disappeared into his room, the door shutting firmly behind him. Specs stood, paused, in the hall, quite out of sorts.
"Good.night?"
//////////\\\\\\\\\\\\
A loud scream pierced through the silence of the night, waking Specs instantly. He fumbled around in the dark for his glasses, and slipped them on, peering at the digital clock by his bed. It read 4:30 a.m. Specs sat perfectly still, waiting for another outbreak of noise.
"STOP IT!" The cry came from Dutchy's room. Specs jumped up and dashed into the hall, wrenched open the door and saw. nothing even remotely perilous.
Tangled up in sheets and blankets, forehead coated with a thin sheen of sweat, Dutchy squirmed around on his bed, eyes squeezed shut.
"Please, Blink! Don't do it! Please!" he pleaded to the haunting presence in his dream. "Wait, please, I can explain!" Specs crept closer, finally realizing that Dutchy was in no immediate danger, simply held prisoner by a nightmare. ((AN: *Billy Madison* Oooh, you're a quick one!)) He placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder, gently shaking him.
"Dutchy," he called softly. "Wake up, Dutchy. Dutchy." Dutchy's eyes flew open. "Blink!" He looked around; his gave eventually landing on Specs. ".Specs?"
"You had a bad dream," Specs said, trying to explain his presence-- *shirtless* presence-in the room. "I heard you scream and thought you were in trouble."
"A dream?" Dutchy echoed, running a hand through his hair. "God." Just then, something on the blonde's torso caught Specs' eye. A long, fleshy scar ran from the bottom of his chest, past his navel, down to the top of his waistband. ((AN2: ::wiggles eyebrows at Ann::)) His eyes widened. Dutchy followed his gaze, and blushed slightly
"It's just an old battle scar," he said, feigning a flippant attitude.
"Battle scar?" Specs repeated, eyebrow raised.
"Yup. Long, involved story."
"Tell me?" Specs asked.
"Well.I guess. I mean, if you really want to hear it.."
//You are entering the FLASHBACK ZONE. Due to strobe lights, you should not ride if you have epilepsy!\\
Dutchy is walking down an abandoned, rusty train track. About two yards down from him, there is a small form, just barely visible. As Dutchy gets closer, the details of the man take shape. He has blonde hair, very much like Dutchy's own, and is a bit taller; more intimidating.
"Blink!" Dutchy calls out. The man stands stock still, giving Dutchy no indication that his call was heard. Dutchy reaches him and stands before him, feet shuffling nervously.
"Where is it, Durecht"? The other blonde asks, finally speaking. Dutchy goes a bit pale, trying hard to keep a normal expression on his face.
"I.uh.don't have it, Blink." Blink turns, a sudden flow of motion, and grabs Dutchy's shirt collar.
"What do you mean, Durecht? Please tell me you're joking, because you *know* how I hate to be let down. Especially by a good *friend*. Right, Durecht?" Dutchy swallows hard as he is lifted off his feet.
"Blink, I can explain. Listen, ok? I had trouble with my bank account and couldn't get the money for it. But it wasn't my fault, honest!" Dutchy hears a growl.
"You promised me. You say you had trouble with your bank account? Well, you're about to have trouble with me." Blink throws Dutchy to the ground. He reaches into his pocket, and Dutchy sees a flash of silver.
~Oh, God. He's got a gun. I'm going to die,~ Dutchy thinks. There is a noise of sudden movement, and Dutchy finds the sharp silver pressed to his throat. ~What? A knife? Christ, that's just as bad!~
"Please, Blink! Don't do it! Please!" Dutchy cries, scrabbling on the unforgiving iron rails of the track. Blink follows, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Wait, please, I can explain!" The steel toes of his boots clank against the rails as he scrabbles for freedom.
"I already heard your explanation, Durecht, and I don't accept it. Now you're going to find out what happens to those unfortunate people who break their promises to me." He comes forward another foot, and Dutchy does the only thing he can think of: he kicks hard into his attacker's face. He hears a cry of anguish and something falls on top of him. "You'll pay even more for that!" Fortunately, Blink is half-blinded by Dutchy's kick, and misses his intended target- Dutchy's heart.
Dutchy feels the knife plunge into him right to the side of his ribcage. Blink drags it down in frustration and blinding pain, curving it centimeters away from his navel to a few inches below it. Dutchy tries to cry out, but the pain is so great that only a strangled gasp escapes his lips. He hears Blink scream again; an endless stream of obscenities, feels him roll beside him onto the tracks. Liquid fire spreads over Dutchy's abdomen, but the pain is fading, his senses fading out. Dutchy's eyes close.
An old lady, living at home alone a block from the tracks, hears the screams. She runs to the phone and dials 911.
//Thank you for riding the FLASHBACK ZONE! Enjoy the rest of your day here at.wherever it is that we are.\\
[So tired of the straight life. That everywhere you turn-vultures and thieves at your back. Storm keeps on twisting. Keep on building the lies that you make up for all that you lack. Don't make no difference, escaping one last time. It's easier to believe.]
Nostalgia proved too much for Dutchy, and he doubled over, sobbing. Specs hesitated, unsure of how to react. Tentatively, he reached over and patted the weeping man's shoulder. Unexpectedly, Specs found himself with an armful of Dutchy, as the blonde buried his face into Specs' bare chest. Specs relaxed after a moment, hugging Dutchy, trying to soothe him with gentle whispers.
Dutchy huddled closer until the sobs drifted into occasional sniffles, the tears dried to salty tracks on his cheeks. He lifted his face and smiled softly at Specs.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "For listening to me, I mean." Specs smiled, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug.
"It wasn't a problem. I'm sorry I made you tell the story. You didn't have to, but you did. That deserves a 'thank you', too." Dutchy smiled, still looking deeply into Specs' eyes. They lapsed into a brief silence, until Specs began to feel twitchy and uncomfortable at being stared at. "Um.Dutchy?"
The blonde regarded him in a serious manner, though lust sparked in his eyes.
"Dutchy?"
"Specs?"
"What?"
"I'm.going to kiss you now." With no further warning, lips met lips in an awkward first kiss. Much to Specs' surprise, he found himself not pulling away, actually enjoying this embrace. His arms wrapped around Dutchy's briefly, until, finally, his brain registered what it was they were actually DOING. He pushed himself away, tumbling off of the bed. A trembling hand was pressed to trembling lips, eyes wide in shock.
"Oh, God." The two whispered words echoed in the still and silent room.
~End Chapter 4~
Author Notes: Oh, BOOYAKA! Who's the bomb? You asked for more, and BOY did you get it. This is probably the longest chapter yet. Therefore: I WANT REVIEWS! DOZENS OF THEM! DELIVERED TO MY DOOR IN SACKS BY UPS GUYS.
.Please? Anyway, thanks go to Stage for the idea of using Blink as the attacker. Dutchy's boots weren't really.erm.*cowboy* boots. They were.uh.steel-toed hiking boots? O_o; Work with me, people. Thanks also go to Stage and Ann for being worshipful betas. I praise j00 b07|-|. (You both, Anne. That's what it means. ^_~)
I'm a Slashy Lady now! Thanks, Ann and Stage, for the official dubbing. ^_^; (Hell YES, I'd buy a shirt.)
Ok. I'll shut up now. Reform, Chapter Four, wrapped up and 1:50 a.m. (See how hard I work for you people? It's because I love you. You know it is.)