Cure Me (PewDieCry Fanfic 2)

Hardcore Hardware Store

*Dedicated to Jessica Williams*

"I'll go get the water," cry said and I left with him.

It took us two hours to get all the bottles from machines. Drink bottles from desks and vending machines also. We struck gold in the supply closets that were full of extras.

What took most of the time was carrying them all back down the stairs.

At the end of it we had twenty three bottles. Way more than any of us expected.

We took one each to go, 'shower,' Tuesday was going to help Penny.

I stripped off in one off the cubicles and doused myself in the water. Feeling really bad for wasting it but relishing the first feeling of being clean in literally months.

My only image I had in my head was my daughter. Throwing herself against the container. Revolting hair. Pallid blue skin. Completely white eyes.

It's not the real Tayla.

I finally cleaned myself and redressed in new clothes before exiting the stall at the same time as Cry. The bloody water all over the floor. We actually looked clean. And he looked good.

Wait. No he didn't.

He looked like an unattractive guy.

Not like a girl.

He definitely didn't.

I really need to stop my mind from wandering. We both stood and looked at the mirror.

"I'm growing a beard," I stayed the obvious. I had nothing to shave with. He was perfectly clean shaven. Not even a shadow as usual.

"Can I have a razor ," I asked. He looked extremely awkward.

"Um. No," he said and promptly left me.

"What?" I asked to no one at all before I followed. Puzzled beyond belief.

Cry was talking to Tuesday. Sally had her face pressed to the window. Just staring out.

Charlie was playing with a newly cleaned Penelope on the floor.

Cry turned and walked back over to me. Holding a blue women's razor in his hand.

"It's new," he said.

"What? No cry, it's fine," I denied.

"Seriously. You look homeless," he said.

"Why don't you just let me have one of yours? Why do you have to go to fifteen year old girls?" I asked validly.

"You don't get it," he just threw it at my chest and walked away.

Wow. What is up with him.

I picked up the razor reluctantly and threw a thankful look at Tuesday before I went to de-beard myself.

I came out ten minutes later remarkably cleaner than I had been an hour ago. My hair was still long. So was cry. His hadn't been cut in six months apparently. He was going to get one when he got back. Now it was just past his jaw.

He looked so much like a girl. But he's not. He's a man. That part is obvious. He's obviously a dude that just happens to look girly.

He's a man.

A man.

His voice makes that not even a question.

"I-I'm sorry Ryan," I apologised as I stood behind him. His shoulders sagged and he sighed.