Chapter 2 - A Normal Start

More people, and tour around town? I'll have to get used to this normal lifestyle..

I couldn't be late again! And after actually meeting the quota this week! I ran back to the building, watching the sun see over the horizon. S**t, s**t, s**t. I didn't, no I couldn't slow down, no matter how tired. Unintentionally, my speed did slow, but I finally saw that dreadful place I refused to call home. The sun hadn't set just yet. Maybe I could make it.

My hopes were immediately crushed. The men had walked outside, a bat in one’s hand, and a knife in the other’s. I stopped, once their gazes met mine. They shared a few words between each other, before heading in my direction.  I wanted to turn to run, but I knew it’d be a breeze for them to chase a 15 year old down. Instead, I froze in place.

“Washington, get your little a*s over here!” They hollered, stopping and waiting. I raced over to them, still a bit tired from all that running earlier. My body tensed when the man with the bat rocked it a bit.

“You’re late, AGAIN.” The knife wielding one hissed. “I’m surprised you haven’t learned, especially from last time, and the time before.” He motioned to the healing wounds on my arms and cheek. I rubbed a scar on my shoulder, remembering the brutal punishment. The men closed in on me, causing me to take a step back.

“You know trying to run will only revert to a worse punishment.” One smirked. “If that’s what you want, I don’t mind doing a bit more damage.” I came to a standstill, as they continued to get closer. The man swung the bat back, his smirk morphing into a wolfish smile. “Wow. Smarter than I thought.” In the blink of an eye, the bat smacked into my leg, knocking me to my knees. Another immediate impact hit my side, causing me to cough.

The man with the knife hovered over me, a wicked grin plastered on his mug. He lowered the knife towards my face. I tried squirming away, but the the other guy tossed the bat to the side, and restrained me from escaping. The blade wielding man held my face in place, barely gliding the blade against my cheek. With a mischievous snicker, he dug the knife into my skin, cutting a jagged line across my jaw I cried out in pain, but a hand was forced over my mouth, silencing me. My whimpers were muffled, as the blade dug into my arms.

That man, who used the bat on me earlier, retrieved it once more, striking my head. My vision began to blur. I tried twisting out of their grasps once more, but to no avail. The bat hit my side once more, causing me to let out another scream.

But, this last squeal didn't sound muffled, or like mine. It sounded more like someone yelling. I still felt the man’s hand pressed on my mouth. The yell felt surreal. Was it saying something? I tried searching around, trying to find the source, but my vision, and the damage being done to me, prevented me from focusing on anything.. The tone of the howl didn’t even sound familiar.. I tried listening closer, to listen for another scream…

“Tucker!!” That same voice shouted once more. Wash, in a daze, fluttered his eyes open, and shot straight up, in a panic. His vision was blurred with sleep, causing him to rub his eyes and search around. He realized where he was, and what happened last night.. Wash ended up staying in that guy’s apartment, Tucker, wasn't it? “God d****t Tucker, get your a*s out here!!” That shriek snapped Wash’s attention back to the present. He scouted around for the source of the voice. It wasn't Tucker. It was a black haired, and pale man, standing in front of him. Behind him was a taller blonde guy. The pale man held a chef’s knife in his hand, a worried look on his face.

Washington remembered where he placed his things. He jumped up, and threw his hoodie to the side, snatching his knife out from under it. He readied himself for any attacks, awaiting he would need to use the knife on these two. Both of the new guys backed up, holding the knife farther out.

“TUCKER!” Both of the men practically screamed. The sound of a door opening and slamming shut startled Wash. He twisted around to see Tucker, who was still in his pajamas, standing in front of his door, and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"God d****t Leonard.. what is it..?" He mumbled, beaming at the three in the living room, with drowsy eyes. His eyes immediacy shot open. "Whoa, whoa!" Tucker ran between them, facing the two new faces. "Leonard, put the knife down! He's chill!"

The man with the kitchen knife, Leonard, hesitated. "How 'bout telling your f*****g thug friend to put his down! That dried blood on it's probably from his last dumbass victim!" He panicked.

Tucker spun on his heel, eyeing Wash. He would have been freaked out about Wash's blood stained blade, if he didn't know what happened last night. "Wash, put the knife away. They're cool. They aren't much of a threat, to anything. And I mean anyth-"

"Oh shut up Tucker! I could kick someone's a*s! If Michael had some brain instead of brawn, he could be a threat too!" Leonard motioned to the man behind him.

"I do not like hurting people. That involves getting angry. Yeah i forgot how to do that" The man behind him, Michael rambled. Tucker rolled his eyes, ignoring Leonard's words and Michael's idiotic sentence.

"Wash, Leonard, put the knives away, and let me tell you," Tucker turned to Leonard and Michael. "Who he is, and why he's here. And I'll tell you," He glanced at Wash. "Who these guys are."

They both didn't move for a few moments. Leonard was the first to back down, tossing the knife onto the coffee table. Wash quickly threw his hoodie on, stuffing the knife in the front pocket. Hopefully the others were too focused on what just happened, to spot the marks everywhere on his upper body. Tucker sighed.and began walking to the other room. Wash waited for the other two to go first, before following them into the dining room and kitchen area.  Tucker sat down on one side of the dining table, while Michael and Leonard settled on the other. Wash slowly placed himself next to Tucker, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. He felt a bit awkward and misplaced. The dream he had last night didn't make him feel any better.

Tension and silence arose in the room. Leonard severed the quiet, by clearing his throat. "So, Tucker, have you told your shady-looking friend who we are? If not, go ahead! While you're at it, might as well tell us what the hell he's doing here?" He hissed, folding his arms and placing them onto the table.

"A*****e.." He muttered, before beginning. "Wash, this is Leonard and Michael, my roommates. Leonard, Michael, this is Washington, or Wash, for short."

"It's nice meeting you, Washingtub!" Michael grinned goofily, extending an his hand out. Wash was hesitant, but reached for his hand, shaking it.

"It's a pleasure.." He responded, little emotion in his voice. He tried pulling his hand away, but Michael just continue to shake his hand.

Tucker half expected Leonard to reach and shake Wash's hand, but of course, he didn't. Instead, he just blurted out, "Okay, okay, intro over. I still wanna know WHY he's in our apartment."

Wash rubbed his arm. "It's pretty lengthy story. Long story short, I was in need of a place to hide low and stay, and Tucker was nice enough to let me stay here for awhile. He also added that that if that if I that if I stay longer than 4 days, I have to pay rent for the months I stay.” Leonard groaned, kneading the top of the bridge of his nose.  

"I guess he can f*****g stay. But he better stick by that rent thing. I ain't letting some freeloader stay or live here. And maybe we should find some other place for him to sleep, besides my couch?" Leonard up, as stomped out of the dining room. Before exiting, he paused in the entryway.

"Hey, Tex wanted my help move out, and into her own place today. She finally gets to be free of that crazy house with her psycho mom. Anyways, why don't you and Dumbfuck bring the newbie into town, and show him around. He doesn't seem like the downtown type, and if he's gonna be staying here, might as well show him the town." He suggested to Tucker, and finally left. The front door sounded as if it was gonna fall off it’s hinges from Leonard slamming so hard. Wash scrunched his face, a bit insulted when he was called a 'newbie'. But, he couldn't really deny it, it was the truth.

Tucker rose to his feet, stretching his arms. “Alright, sounds like a plan. It’ll waste some time, unless you know everything around town?” Washington shook his head. He usually stayed in the outskirts of town, and hadn't seen much of city itself. It was much easier to steal from airheads out there, and get away with it. There was practically no one to see it happen. Crowded cities were too risky. “Okay. Let me and Michael put some damn clothes on, and then we’ll leave.” He started out of the dining room, motioning for Michael to follow him. “Come on dude. And put actual clothes on this time. You’re not leaving the apartment in your swim trunks again.” He narrowed his eyes. Michael hopped to his feet, trailing him out.

Wash heard their two doors close, and he eventually rose from his chair. He dawdled out, and into the living room. While waiting, he stared down at his hoodie. It was so torn and ragged. Should he wear it out? He breathed in, thinking the question over. With it on, people might think he’s a bum or something. However, if he didn’t wear anything over his tank, everyone would notice his horrendous scars. Exhaling, he lifted it off, grasping it in his arms. Wash jumped a bit from another door smacking closed, and ripped his attention from his jacket. It was just Tucker. He barely changed; just throwing his dreadlocks up, and putting a teal zip up on.

Tucker glared down the hallway as he wandered into the living room. “Man, Michael takes his sweet a*s time. He’s probably co-” Tucker hushed himself, gawking wide eyed at Wash. “Wh… Dude, why are your arms so scarred up?” The room went still. Wash simply ignored what Tucker mentioned, and huffed loudly, settling the hoodie back on.

Michael pranced down the hallway, erasing some of the tension stuck in the room. "Wow, he did it all by himself, and decently too." Tucker laughed at his own remark,and headed to the front door. Michael didn't appear to mind what he said, and mosied over the door. Tucker swung the door open, and strode out, glancing back into the apartment. “Come on Wash!” Wash hurried out, and shut the door behind him. Tucker led the two to an elevator, and hopped inside once it opened.

“Can I press the button, Tucker??” Michael’s eyes lit up, beaming brightly. Tucker chuckled, and Wash even cracked a grin at his childlike attitude`.

“Knock yourself out.” Michael pressed a button that had ‘Lobby’ printed onto it, and the elevator began traveling to the lower floor. Wash gripped the railing tightly, clenching his teeth. It’s not that he was scared. He hadn't rid an elevator much when he was younger, and he didn't at all while stuck in THAT place. He remembered all the stories about elevators breaking down, and the cable snapping and it plummeting.

The elevator suddenly halted. Wash glanced around in a panic. The elevator wasn't going to drop, right? While looking around, he observed Tucker giving him an odd stare. Wash loosened his grip on the railing, and turned his attention to him. Tucker rose a brow.

“Uuh, you okay?” Wash swallowed, and nervously nodded his head. The elevator doors opened, but it didn't have that lobby impression. Wash’s eyes drifted to the the flashing screen above the buttons, that showed what floor they were at. It was only the 4th. A woman trudged in, a suitcase in her hands. She stood between Washington and Michael, eyeing Wash with narrowed eyes. He scrunched his face, giving her a weird glare. The woman took a step, clutching her case close to her chest. Wash looked a bit offended and hurt. Is she scared of me or something?

The elevator slid open once more, and the woman scurried out in the blink of an eye. The three poured out not long after. Strolling into the lobby, Wash realized just how rich and nice looking the interior of the apartment building was. He gaped in awe, and barely kept up with Tucker and Michael.

Wash snapped back to reality when something looped around his arm. "Come on Washington!” Michael cheered, pulling him out of the lobby. The two followed Tucker into the busy streets. Wash practically froze, registering just how many people lived here. There had to be over ten thousand! He tensed up, curious to know if his ex-captors were still hunting for him. But thinking over just how many people are in these streets, it’d be unlikely. He inhaled, loosening up and standing side-by-side Tucker and Michael.

“So…” Wash cleared his throat, tugging the other’s gazes to him. “Where are we off to first?” Tucker rubbed his chin, thinking of somewhere to go. A smirk spread across his face. He held Wash’s wrist, pulling him and Michael through the street. The sudden touch surprised Wash, but he didn't look  into it.

“I know just the place!"

After a few minutes of being dragged around, they approached a small stone building, with a large sign next to it. Atop of the sign rested the famous gold 'M'. McDonald's. Tucker stopped, pulling out his wallet and counting the money stuffed in it.

"Oooh, oooh!" Michael hopped in place, his eyes glistening. "Are we gonna see Donut and the others?"

Tucker closed his wallet, and shoved the door open to walk in. "Eeyup. They can meet the new guy, and we can get some food." Wash shuffled in place, knowing the 'new guy' was him. Had they thought of him as a new acquaintance, or new friend? He waited for Michael skip inside, before he proceeded through the doors. It had been awhile since he'd even step a foot near a McDonald's, or any restaurant for that matter. The building was way nicer than last time he visited a McDonald’s. Was the food still the same?

“Oh heeey guys!” A blonde haired guy cheered, wrapping his arms around Tucker and Michael’s shoulder. He turned to Wash, and waved. “Hi! Who’s the new guy?” Wash gave the blonde an odd gaze when he eyes him up and down, but the guy didn’t seem to notice. Before Wash could answer his question, Tucker butted in.

“I’ll introduce ya in a bit. Go get Dexter and Dick’s asses out of the kitchen. They should be on break in a few, right?” Tucker gestured to the ordering counter. He grabbed his wallet, pulling a twenty dollar bill out. “And get all of us a burger each. Dexter can deal.” The blonde nodded, pacing to the counter.

“Yep, and I’ll get those for ya~. Go sit down, and we’ll be over in a bit!” He slipped behind the counter, and disappeared into the kitchen. Washington tried to hold in his giggles, and trailed behind the others, following them to an empty table. Dick.. Never met someone with that name. It has to be short for something. That’d just be cruel. They sat down in the metal chairs, waiting for the blonde and whoever ‘Dexter’ and ‘Dick’ were. Wash relaxed a bit, and smiled to himself. He actually felt decently normal here, despite his several scars, and his almost criminal-like appearance. Even the blonde worker didn't seem to mind how he dressed or anything. He was a bit thrilled to meet the others that Tucker and Michael had mentioned. Wash shot up a little, realizing Michael was rambling aimlessly to him.

“...I just don’t understand why the dog didn't respond to me. Did he not want to be my friend?” He cried, a sad expression on his face.

Wash shook his head, trying to find a way to respond, since he wasn't paying attention. “No.. I, uh, bet he just didn't know you well enough?” He laughed nervously, getting a positive reaction from Michael.

“You know, you’re right. Maybe I should try to act more dog-like..” He trailed off, pondering to himself. Wash peered at Tucker, and rose a brow. Tucker waved Michael’s behavior off.

“You’ll get used to him. This is how he normally acts.” He glanced at Michael, who was fiddling with a straw wrapper he found. Tucker rolled his eyes, looking back at Washington. They both laughed at Michael’s childlike behavior, but Wash paused, the same smile still spread on his face.

New guy, huh? Maybe things are looking up for me. I could probably get used to these guys as friends.

Though Wash couldn't help but feel like something was off. The men that held him prisoner for all these years.. They wouldn't let him off the hook that easily, even if he was already 18. Wash just had to keep a low profile, that’s all. Get a job, buy some clothes that aren't so ratty.. They’d have to give up eventually.

Only time will tell. I just have to keep a cool head, and not think about it.

Author's Note

Slow start, yes. In a chapter or two, we should get to the interesting, fluff parts ewe