Fear and Fate(poly)(bxb)

Seven

I refuse to sleep in this house with these men. My grip is firm on the knife in my right hand as I sit up in bed. My knees are to my chest and there's a gun on my nightstand. I keep envisioning dead bodies.

My childhood cat burned to a crisp and my father spotted with bullet holes. I watched the news broadcast on the TV in my room. The police recovered my father's body according to Maddox, my former babysitter. I see the only family I know, a bloody frame through the sheet as they roll him into an ambulance.

Von banged on my locked door the first time I cried out. Now I guess they all got used to it. There's still someone waiting outside but I don't care to guess who.

I can't figure out what matters anymore.

At four AM, I realize I can't sleep like this. I drag my tired, sore muscles out of bed and begin packing a duffle bag. I throw a hoodie on before double-checking that I packed my gun and heading out.

"What's wrong?" L catches me at my door.

Our height difference is especially apparent when I'm slumped over in pain and unevenly holding an overnight bag. The older man towers over me with brown glazed eyes. His grey sweater looks warm to the touch and I feel lethargic just looking at it.

"Why are you all still awake?" I ask as I peer past him and notice the other men packed into the living room.

"Go back to bed," Von commands. He's seated on the couch and rubbing his temple.

I want to leave a knot there. Instead, I say, "I want to see it."

"What?" Von questions.

"I need to see it. There might be something I can salvage."

"You need to go to sleep. " Seven stretches out, his arms coming above his head and his shirt climbing above his stomach. He takes a big yawn and it triggers me to conceal myself doing the same.

"Why?"

"Why do you have a bag in your hand?" Von counters. "You think I'm letting you leave this house?" For a brief second. Von's pupils are dilated. His lips slightly ajar, his black tresses casting shadows over his tired eyes. He looks scared, like he's terrified of the idea of losing me.

Seven's concern manifests itself differently. He leans forward and lets his long sweater sleeve fall from his shoulder. He stares intently at me despite the exposed skin. "Are you having a hard time falling asleep? I can go to bed with you if you want."

"I'm just not comfortable sleeping after what happened... Maybe there's something I can bring back from home to help," I say.

"The police are still all over that place. You're the first person they're gonna want to question," Romero chimes in from his seat next to his favorite gang member. "Just go back to sleep. You're safe here, I promise."

"How many times do I have to tell y'all I can't sleep?" I raise my voice a bit louder than I intended, pissed at feeling ignored and gripping the strap of my bag tighter with burned hands.

"Diana wants us to have a dinner tomorrow night... to celebrate," L breaks the news. "Try and get some rest while you can. You need it."

My blood begins to boil. I let the duffle bag slip from my gasp, preparing to make it out of this house with my bare hands. They're celebrating this?! I look over at Von's apathetic expression and feel flames engulfing me.

His blue eyes show no remorse. There's a slither of fear, but not an ounce of regret.

"You guys are planning on celebrating this shit I haven't even gotten an explanation for yet." I creep towards the door with each word. "Who lit my house on fire? I'm only asking y'all to fess up once."