VegasPete One-Shots

Two Broken Pieces

Vegas entered the bathroom with a huge amount of resentment in his heart, his right fist hitting the darn wall until his fingers became bruised and bloody.

Punch after punch after punch...

It was not enough to soothe the emotional pain.

Five minutes ago, Kan, his awful father, had insulted him and his brother per usual. He never said nice things to them, never treated them right; there were only slurs and words of mockery.

It always began with how much of a disappointment they were, how much of a family disgrace, and ended with threats of abandonment. Being abandoned by Kan should be a blessing for the brothers - with the way their father had been treating them their whole lives, but the human heart and mind are weak when it comes to blood relations.

We want to be accepted, we want to be loved.

Did Vegas really ask that much?

Being abandoned and thrown out was Vegas's biggest fear since his mother died. People that he cared about never stayed with him. He felt like he had no one. No close and loved family members to confide in, no good friends that wanted to associate with him when money wasn't involved, no nothing.

Alas, living at home wasn't that good either. There were many stakes at hand. The most evident one? The danger of one's depression consuming the mind; Vegas's mental stability was withering away.

But Vegas had found a silver lining now, a solace: Pete. His mind couldn't comprehend - was he a friend or a foe? But still, nonetheless, a solace he was, for the broken man to have someone who couldn't just leave.

Pete, right.

Where was Pete?

Vegas could have sworn that he had seen him locked up in his room twenty minutes ago. Also, the bathroom mirror was broken.

What was going on?

Vegas was so angry when he entered the adjoined room that he didn't even notice if Pete was present at all.

What a foolish mistake.

A recheck was in order it seemed.

But there it was - the chain. That goddamn chain, lying on the ground, connected to the wall.

Huh.

Was someone trying to play hide and seek under the bed?

Did Pete really think that vegas wouldn't notice him when he sees the chain?

Vegas smirked and started pacing around the room while whistling, trying to give Pete quite the fright.

The courageous Pete was lying under the bed; he was afraid but had nothing to lose. Death was just a matter of time for him. Or so he thought.

Attack, fight, do it when he doesn't notice, his mind screamed, but his actions were for nothing since he couldn't react fast enough when a hand pulled him roughly from under the bed.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Vegas annoyed.

"Uhm, surprise?" Asked Pete in return, trying to form a fake smile.

"Pete, I'm tired, can you stop?" He said sighing, and pulled Pete into the bathroom, bringing him to stand in front of the broken mirror.

"Why did you do it?" Asked Vegas as he examined Pete's fists with his hands. They were red, coated with dried blood he presumed.

Shrugging, he answered, "Just because."

Just because I need freedom. Just because I want to run away. Just because I'll turn crazy if I stay. Just because I'm afraid that I'll never want to leave.

Vegas's hand held Pete by the jawline, fingers touching his cheeks, making him stare at their reflection in the mirror.

"Do you feel lonely?" Vegas asked, still playing with Pete's face, making his lips almost pucker like a fish.

"If I'm lonely, would you let me go?" Asked the latter in return.

No, never. I don't want to be alone.

Vegas's eyes looked sad but he didn't utter a word.

The broken mirror; the mended glass, couldn't be made anew. It remained broken, just like them.

Two broken pieces: the one who's been hurt his whole life and hurt others, and the one who got hurt because of him.

Two broken pieces, they fit that darn mirror so well.