Stories and Oneshots with OCs

Way Out

(This is my re envisioned version of how Arlo meets the Revs that I had for awhile now and I'm putting it out since I think it's p okay :3 tell me watchu think and what you would change if it needs it :P)(Imma release other things soon I just had to get this out of the way lol)

((it's also in first person pov yayyy))

-

I stood in front of the comm booth tucked to the side of a run down convenience store, the flickering blue glow of the hologram casting a few words in my face. I couldn't read basic all that well at the time, but I could see an arrow on the screen pointed down towards the sticky panel of buttons with text that I could only assume said something along the lines of, Insert credits here.

I swung the bag, Haldon's bag, I was carrying over my shoulder, and rummaged through the contents, hoping to find something to make at least one call. I didn't have time to thoroughly pack, I simply grabbed things and ran. For the first time in a long time, my mind was completely quiet, all it told me was to run and leave, and for once I listened.

As I searched, I fished out an open pack of cigarras. I tilted my head, bringing it closer and inspecting the small box. I never knew Haldon to smoke, not much. But then again, there were a lot of things I didn't know about him.

Besides my saber and the tiny, crumbled piece of flimsi I had hastily written a number on, there weren't any credits. I had been out in the streets for two days now, maybe three. I swiped food off of unsuspecting cart vendors and hid away in empty hangars for shelter while trying to navigate the unforgiving streets that were Coruscant. It was nothing like back home, or even the Capital. It was cold and wet, smelt like must and smoke. I didn't know anybody here or speak the language well, I had to fend for myself.

One thing I knew is that I couldn't go back to my parents, wherever they were, and I wouldn't go back to Haldon. Dying in this dingy, dirty alley would be a better fate. 

The only hope I had left was just crushed right in front of me. The faint blue light flickered and the empty bag taunted me while my cracked and bleeding hands balled into fists.

I'm so stupid, was all I could think, how I ever thought this fragile little hunch of mine would work, that somebody I never even met would be willing to help me out of my own mess was beyond me.

Maybe it was me being desperate, a small sliver of hope that had weaseled it's way to me. Gaven would've smacked me upside the head and scolded me at the thought of it.

I had tried to leave in the past. Every time, Haldon always convinced me to stay. Won me over, said he would be better, that things would change. Slyly reminded me how he was everything I had, how nobody would accept me like he does.

It never got any better, the only change was that it was worse every time he was a little drunker, or came home later in the night. Subjected me to his constant torment. Things I wish I had never seen, things I wish I never had to describe.

The day when he found those angry, red marks on my arms and legs and demanded I explain was the breaking point for me. I was tired of everything. Tired of running, tired of being scared. I wanted it all to stop.

I don't even remember how it happened, but it turned into an argument, and it was violent. My head was spinning, something in me snapped, and I remember how he was thrown into the wall, how I threw him into the wall. I remember hearing an audible cracking sound, hearing the breath leave his lungs. He didn't say anything, didn't hit me again or blow up bigger than the last time, just stared. Deep into my equally horrified face.