For The Rats (One-Shots)

Murder

The rain poured outside, candles lit around the living room creating a dark ambiance. Ben was seated on a crimson couch, a tall candle resting behind him on an old piano that held more years than Ben and his partner combined. He was silent, hands folded over his knees as a flash of lightning lit up the window in the far right corner, gone as soon as it had come. Shadows crept around the corners of the room, where the warm yellow glow could not reach, and two men were sitting on opposite ends of a couch, doing nothing but listening to the gutter drizzle onto the patio out front. Their backs were to the door, a large, wooden structure of dark oak. An oval window decorated with glass designs cut into the oak, creating a looking glass to the dark outside world. The rain poured on. 

Danny was the other man, sitting far from Ben who wore a solemn expression, eyebrows tight in thought. Danny was more of the opposite. His hair was blonde and short, not brown and long. His eyes were blue, not gray as the sky was when a storm was brewing ahead above the sea. Danny's hands were much smoother than Ben's. And Ben was far more collected than Danny. 

The blonde man's eyes darted around the room, waiting for Ben's decision. The final move. Often times, Danny would lay awake at night wondering what he had gotten himself into, unaware that Ben wondered that question too. There was a body in the basement, downstairs inside the cool stone walls. But the body was of a man who still barely hung on to life by a string. 

His eyes flick to the metal grate on the wall in front of them, sitting down on the floor with thick bars and a tunnel that lead directly downstairs. Thoughts of the body remained inside his mind, his eyes shifting uncomfortably in the long silence. Ben remained motionless, his face cemented, his body stagnant. He was thinking. Thinking of what their next move would be. 

Danny looks down, lowering his gaze and waiting. The wind howled outside, their red cloaks hung by the door catching the candlelight. 

"We can't leave him there," Danny finally says, his voice low. 

Ben looks up, his eyes meeting Danny's in the dim light. "I know." 

He pauses, his eyes focused on an image in his mind that Danny could not see, lost in thought. "But we also can't afford to draw attention to ourselves. We need to be careful." 

Danny nods in agreement, but his expression betrays his nervousness. He glances at the metal grate again, then back at Ben. "We could... we could find someone who could help us. Someone who can... take care of it?" 

Ben looks up at Danny, giving him the you're-fucking-kidding-me face. 

"Danny, you're the only one who can finish him," he reminds the blonde man. Danny shifts, nodding, but Ben isn't satisfied with his reaction. "No, Danny. You have to be the one to kill him." 

"I know," Danny mumbles, looking down at his hands. He didn't like when Ben used that tone of voice at him. He already felt bad enough as it was. 

Ben seems to pick up on Danny's body language, softening his features. 

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, and Danny only nods in reply, his head still down. "I didn't mean to be like that, it's just.." Ben's voice trails. "We've got a ritual half done, and a body downstairs, we can't continue until he's dead but once he is, I've got to figure out where we go.." 

Danny nods. He knew he was the reason for Ben's stress. Ben had set up everything for the ritual with Danny, all he had to do was kill the man who had.. hurt him. The new moon wouldn't last forever, if they didn't get it done tonight they'd have to wait a whole month. A whole month of keeping that body downstairs, keeping it alive. But Danny couldn't do it. He'd never taken a life before, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Fear prohibited his actions. He knew Ben was trying to be easy on him, trying to help him. Ben was supportive, he didn't force Danny to kill the man though he knew it was the only way to get out of this. 

"What if.." Danny's voice is soft, hopeful. "we just run away again." 

Ben's eyes linger on Danny's face, his jaw pushed forward and his eyes thinking, weighing options. 

"You really want to keep running?" 

Danny falls silent. He knew Ben didn't want to keep running forever, but Ben also wouldn't force Danny to take a life. It hurt to think about, leaving this little home they had built for themselves. This small, temporary residence now tainted with the blood of a dying man. Their home had been found, they couldn't stay here. They wouldn't be safe until that man was dead and the spell went into effect. The idea of running forever made Danny's stomach sick, things that kept Ben up at night. He didn't want to run forever. They deserved better, they deserved to get a nice little apartment together or something, and have a home. They deserved freedom. 

"I don't want to keep running," Danny whispers, looking up at Ben. "I just... I don't want to kill him." 

"I know," Ben says, his voice gentle and soothing. 

They lapse into silence, listening to the howl of the wind outside. Danny's eyes are drawn back to the grate, to the man they've left below. He swallows hard, feeling sick to his stomach. The clock ticks, time passing and passing, their window for the ritual closing slowly. Danny squeezes his eyes shut, torn internally. 

"I'll try again," he blurts. 

Ben's eyebrows knit. "Are you sure?" 

Danny nods, feeling lightheaded. He was nervous and scared as hell, but he had to do this. The only thing scarier than this was dying in the shadows with Ben, gunned down in secrecy, their lives experienced solely in glances over the shoulder and long night drives to a new location. 

Ben nods wordlessly and stands, reaching a hand out for Danny to take. Danny swallows, but takes Ben's rough hand. 

A/N: if you're confused, it's okay because I am too. I have no idea what I'm writing, this was freestyle :) 

I hope you enjoyeddddd, comment something so I know who's invited to my sleepover. Thaaaaaaanks, lova yall!