Roadtrip Oneshots

Bikey, I'll Look After You

Mikey

I kept looking over my shoulder as I ran, eyes wide, but the darkness meant I couldn't see if anyone was following me anyway.

My stomach hurt like hell. My face throbbed. My eyes watered. Tears ran down my cheeks.

My breath came in ragged gasps, the fear and adrenaline made me run faster. The cold air burned by skin, the salt from the tears zipped pain from my suspected split lip.

No matter if I made it home, I could not hide the fact that I was crying. That I had bruises and blood covering my face and neck.

I almost collapsed in relief when I saw the lights to the house on, but the fear that those two guys were still following me encouraged me to keep going.

I'd been running for the last thirty minutes, scared, hurt, tired, upset.

I hadn't realised that being punched in the face repeatedly would hurt as much as it did.

I slammed the door shut when I crashed inside, and I frantically locked it behind me. My hands shook on the lock, and I backed away slowly, not taking my eyes off the door.

I had a fear that their faces would appear in the window, and that they would know where I lived.

I really hoped they hadn't followed me... anyone could spill onto the garden by accident.

"Mike? Is that you?"

I zoned back in with a heaving breath, heard Brook's voice from down the hallway.

I couldn't bring myself to respond, too busy trying to breathe. When I tasted salt I realised I was crying again. I brought my hand up to my face to wipe my tears away, but I was still rattled. The tears kept coming. Everything still hurt.

"Mikey?"

I turned around to face Brooklyn, immediately seeing his eyes go wide in shock. He came right over, and took my face in his hands.

"What happened to you?

I flinched, hissed, but let Brook inspect me.

"Who did this to you?"

I watched tears form in Brook's eyes, but I didn't have the breath to calm him down. I was still struggling to breath myself...

"Hey, hey you're alright. It's just me and you," Brooklyn murmured, and led me into the kitchen, where the lights were brighter, and where he could see my face better.

I still had yet to say a word since I'd come home... I had yet to say a word since I picked myself up off the floor and ran away.

"It's alright. Just calm down Mikey," he soothed, not taking his hand from around my waist.

I couldn't stop shivering. I wrapped my arms around myself, constantly looked all around me.

I froze in the middle of the kitchen, stared out of the window. I thought I could see people moving in the treeline. I could see shadows moving across the grass, getting closer and closer to the house. Any second I knew they'd appear, peering in through the window, and I couldn't be dealing with that.

"Please shut the curtains."

"What? There's no one out there Mike," Brooklyn looked and said, frowned.

"Please shut the curtains... please just shut the curtains," I mumbled over and over, and I started to walk backwards as the shadows moved closer, and I walked back until my knees hit the sofa and I fell onto it. I didn't take my eyes off the blackness outside.