Malevolent (Tex Sawyer)

Malevolent: 28

A/N: I'm trying to get myself back into writing after an hiatus so I apologise if this isn't the best or the longest.

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There was a sickness that twisted my gut becoming worse as the day dragged on. The taste of sulphuric acid would rise and fall in my throat, my stomach discontent with every viable movement. I pinned it down more to being certain that if it was possible, I could get Brittany out. At this moment, Mama was still leaving us other than the odd visit into the room to 'feed' Grandpa and leave food for myself and a porridge like substance for Brittany which she refused to take to almost immediately. I agreed with her, fully prepared to be dubbed ungrateful by her and Tex when he inevitably returned. We just had to hope that he too would leave us by becoming too invested in toying with his potential victims. He was someone who enjoyed playing with his food.

Like a cat ensnaring a mouse by the tail and allowing it to try and flee only to drag it back by the tug of claws and a paw. I ignored the thought of the intended meal, by now I had seen the bodycount and it became a blur of faces while the redhead one remained prominent in my thoughts.
It was distasteful to rely on luck, it seemed where it was concerned we were in the minus and practically jinxed. What could go wrong, already had, where we could be punished, we had been and felt. I tensed in my seat. I didn't want to think what more could go wrong, we had to hold onto the scrap of chance we had and take advantage of the situation where we possibly could.

Frowning from where I sat with my knee tucked against my chest, I nibbled on my thumb nail the stress budding in my brain and forehead. I wanted to be optimistic but each attempt regularly ended in failure to the point that I could only be cynical. Hope was dangerous, it gave me something to lose and when all else had been robbed. Turning my head, I spied the woman in question becoming uncomfortable and shifting soundlessly as if afraid to remind Mama that we were still together. The police scanner had remained silent but that was usually far from a surprise, each member hunted in their own way before attacking and when on the road, Tinker preferred stealth. Alfredo would be ready to clean up the mess that they left behind and keep the slaughter under wraps. Same shit, different day was the saying that came to mind and summed up life with the Sawyers. The denouement simply consisted of death.

Brittany threaded her hair feverishly where she sat. Turmoil stained her pale features as she tugged on the tea stained coloured crochet blanket over her purposely avoiding the swelling of her belly. There was no news or information I could offer that would reassure her and wrapping my arms around my knees together, I decided to keep it buttoned. The risk was immense and her body was weakened in her condition. If time was on our side it would still be fleeting. There was nothing that could bring comfort with the fact and I had no temptation to be condescending. She would have to be resilient if an opportunity came knocking. Still, it seemed selfish to put so much on her shoulders having already endured hell and worse. I frowned to myself, lifting my head up to focus on her once more. This time my tired green eyes reached hers and as they did, she stared back quizzically.

"You don't have to do this." Her optics widened at the statement bewildered. She lingered on the words slowly as if repeating the suggestion to herself but then considering they had carved one of her ears as easily as her tongue it was feasible to think that she truly did not catch what I had said. Or perhaps, that she didn't believe that I had. A fire passionately burned in her eyes which was the only answer I could accept unable to hide the relief that she was determined to get out of here, fuck the consequences if we were caught. Pride filled my belly, like me she had likely considered the worse and mauled over it decided that she would not succumb completely to the psychotic family. Slowly, she nodded, keeping eye contact as she did to ensure I knew that we had to try. "Gotcha." I reassured gently. "Rest up, you'll need your strength."