Multi-Dimensional Disaster (Rivet x Male Reader) - OLD VERSION

Recollections

Interchanging Perspectives (Y/N's & Third Person Perspective)
Sydney, Earth
Saturday, 21/03/18

I didn't always have nobody close... in fact, when I was a little boy it was much the opposite. My entire family were close, in all aspects - the five of us crammed into a small apartment in the shitty old slums of Sydney with nothing but each other to keep us sane and company. Sharing three bedrooms, one bathroom and a tiny kitchen wasn't the best of situations, but my parents, older sisters and I were able to deal with it.

10 year old Y/N woke up to the sound of his two sisters arguing in their bedroom, seemingly over the hairbrush again. Nothing had changed since yesterday, unlike what his parents had been telling him since they left their old home to live here instead.

Today was special however, as it was Y/N's 10th birthday, which meant he had officially made it to double digits. It was a pretty big milestone for him and he was excited that he was growing up, which made his parents pleased. At dinner that night, his mother brought out a small chocolate cake decorated with the words 'You're 10! It's a shame we don't have a lawn for you to learn to mow...' written on the top in buttercream icing. 

"Here you go, son." His mother said softly as she placed the cake down in front of the boy, going to press the knife into the delicious treat to serve to everyone.

"Honey, why don't we let Y/N cut his own cake this year?" Y/N's father asked, looking down at Y/N and his mother from the head of the table. "He's turning into a big boy, after all. I'm sure he can handle cutting slices for everyone this year."

Y/N's face lit up with a smile that spread from ear to ear as his dad suggested he cut his own cake this year, to which the mother smiled and nodded, agreeing with the idea. She gave the knife to the little boy and sat back down, watching him with loving tears in her eyes as he raised the knife to cut into the cake.

*Rumble*

The whole building began to rumble and shake, which caused Y/N's sisters to scream, instantly hiding under the table. The building shook again, and again, and again, the time between the waves of shaking getting shorter and the volume increasing after every wave. 

After a moment of the family hiding under their table, the shaking got so loud and powerful it made it collapse. Y/N was still holding the knife he was given to cut the cake, and when two burly men in matching teal suits burst through the front door he was suddenly dragged away by his father, who silently took him to the farthest room from the entry in the apartment.

"Dad, what's happening?" He asked, looking up at his father who was preparing to go back out into the main apartment, loading his fathers' .45 ACP and peeking around the door, gunshots and blood splatters echoing through the apartment. 

"They found us. Hide, Y/N." His father said, swinging open the door and running out of it. Y/N could hear him tackle one of the guards, and the loud thud was followed by several gunshots and a lot of screaming. 

Y/N hid under the bed and was unfortunate enough to leave the door open, so the first thing he saw when he turned himself around to face the room's door was his father. "Dad-" He whispered in disbelief, scrambling out from his hiding spot and to his feet, running towards his father in the doorway. "Dad, I'm gonna help you... you need the hospital, dad."

He looked down at his father's chest, which had a hole that led to a bullet in it. He was bleeding out quickly, yet he still managed to stand back up. "Y/N, I'll distract them so you can escape. While I have their attention, you need to run past and make it out of the room. Do not stop, and do not turn around. Got it?"

"But dad-- I don't wanna leave you here!" He shouted as he watched his father limp back out of the room and into the hallway, just out of sight of the doorway.

Y/N's father stood in the middle of the hallway, holding his .45 in one hand and clutching his chest with the other. "Hey, uglies." He said before raising the pistol and firing several shots into the room.

Y/N heard two bodies fall from beyond the doorway and sprung up, running into the hallway and hugging his father, trying not to look into the room his father had just shot into. 

"C'mon, kid... let's get out of here." He said, patting Y/N on the back and directing him towards the door. They made it half way across the room before he stopped walking and began shaking, collapsing onto the floor after a few seconds.

"Dad?" Y/N asked, freezing as his father dropped to his knees in front of him. His father's breathing was labored and his chest rose and fell weakly, pain clear on his face. 

"I'll be fine..." The father wheezed out, his voice strained. "Daddy just needs a little breather, okay?" He looked up into his son's eyes as Y/N put a hand over the bullet wound in his dad's chest, feeling blood seeping out of the hole.

"Yeah, yeah... you'll be fine, dad." He whispered, his throat horse and tears welling in his eyes. He knew what was happening. He almost predicted it, with all the shooting and dead bodies littered around them.

But knowing what's happening never made it any easier. It never does.

He sat there with his father for what felt like forever, trying to apply as much pressure to the wound as his boyhands would supply to keep him alive in time for the paramedics.

A shaky hand reached towards Y/N's wrist and his father looked up at him with tired and defeated eyes. He reached into his pocket as he grabbed a hold of his son's hand, producing the Swiss Army Knife he had bought on a trip overseas.

"You have... a gift, Y/N..." He whispered as Y/N opened his hand for his father to place the utility tool in his hand. "The gift of a pure, whole and loving heart. And with that gift... that great power within your own soul..." He was interrupted by a coughing fit that sent a small stream of blood spilling over his lip. "With that great power, my boy... comes great responsibility..."

"Dad?" Y/N asked weakly, looking at his father's face for any kind of reaction. Nothing. He shook him madly, gripping onto his shoulders. "Dad? Dad?!" His breathing became increasingly unsteady as his father continued to fail the response test.

And then... Y/N gave up. He let the tears he had been holding back since he felt his fathers' blood on his fingers fall onto the old man's body, the rain beginning to pour outside as sirens echoed in the distance.

He pulled his father to the lounge and managed to lift him onto it, grabbing his .45 and placing it on his chest, standing there for a small moment of silence for his fallen family before leaving the apartment behind and never looking back.

A/N: Apologies for all the Spiderman & Modern Warfare references in here, it seems I can't help myself in adding them anymore. Spiderman because I just watched No Way Home the other night, and Modern Warfare, because it was arguably the best series Call of Duty has produced so far.

I know this took a while as well, and I'm sorry you've all been waiting for so long, but I'm going to try to get on here and do more writing more frequently so you guys actually have something to read. 

Burn Bright & Carry On
Enno