☆~|| Ramshackle oneshots/Headcannons ||~☆ (book closed until further notice)

☆ S. S. S. S. ☆

(Skipp n' Stone Short Story)

(This short story takes place before Ditch and Vinnie's encounter,

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BvK2V7cHzD4&t=7s) 

and is written from Skipp and Stone's pov. 

A friend of mine said they thought it'd be cool if there was a little SkippingStone moment when they were being captured, so I'm going to make their dreams come true, yippee)

Stone flicked the ashes off the end of his cigarette with a finger, swiping his finger against his coat afterward.

Skipp sat nearby on the floor, picking aimlessly at the strings of his mandolin.

It was awkwardly silent, considering that the two usually didn't interact much directly.

"...Hey, Stone?" Skipp broke the silence.

Stone glanced over.

"Yeah?"

"When d'ya think Vinnie'll come back?"

Stone dropped his cigar and ground it out.

"She'll come back."

He said it more to convince himself.

Vinnie had left the two to "sort out some unfinished business". 

She had told them not to follow, but they were getting uneasy. Or, at least, Skipp was. 

Well, Stone was probably hiding it anyway.

Skipp stood suddenly, setting down his mandolin.

Stone looked over immediately, clueless.

"We should go. It's been too long."
Stone stared at him for a long second.

"It's been what, 7 minutes? Relax."

They stood for a beat of silence, both of them knowing the circumstances.

"..Fine." Stone caved.

They didn't know exactly where Vinnie had gone, but they had a good idea. Eventually they entered the shadier part of town, which wasn't much different than the rest of it.

Peering around a building they found a large abandoned factory, multiple sets of footprints imprinted in the dirt surrounding the entrance.
It was almost too obvious.

They slinked back into the shadows turning to each other to validate what they were about to try and do.

Stone nodded silently at Skipp, opening his mouth to say something before freezing rigid when his eyes met another pair over Skipp's head.

Skipp nodded back, his brow furrowing at Stone's peculiar expression.

But he didn't have to wonder for long before Stone lurched forward– and in a flash pulled Skipp aside, spinning around to push him out of the grasp of the enemy.

Skipp skidded as he landed on the ground a little ways away, eyes wide and startled.

Stone felt a pair of hands clamp onto his left arm, and he reacted instantaneously, swinging his fist at the head of his captor.

To his surprise they caught it, flashing a sick grin before sending Stone down with a blow to the face.

He hit the floor with a thump, the impact sending a shock of pain through his body and back as his skull rattled in response.

He gasped helplessly as his lungs released all the air inside at once– unable to so much as wheeze at the sharp, increasing pain erupting from his nose.

He couldn't move.

Black soon rimmed his vision as he watched Skipp's expression go from frightened to horrified.

"Stone–!!"

Skipp leapt up and tried to spring onto Stone's detainer, but was immediately caught by the arms and pulled back by another lackey.

Skipp struggled wildly, yelling out. He barely had time to notice the glass wine bottle they were raising above his head until it was too late.

Skipp ceased his fighting and went limp, his head hanging.

Their attackers spoke with each other for about five seconds, and Stone could faintly make out a few distant words:

"...w a n t s  t h e m  a l i v e."

Stone tried to raise or turn his head to determine more of the scene, but he was still paralyzed.

He needn't worry about this for long however before he felt a boot press into the back of his head.

The fuzzy voices went silent.

His ears stopped their ringing.

His stomach stopped its acrobatics.

And everything went dark.