scott x hope oneshots

drugstore

this was originally called in the cool of the evening but there's already a part in this collection with that name so i changed it

There are times when Scott thinks that he's fucked up so much that there's no coming back from it, when he knows that he absolutely deserves what he's gotten and more. There are times when he wonders if he'll ever break this endless cycle of hurting and hurting others and being alone for it. There are times when, locked in a house for fourteen months, he thinks it might be for the best, after all, and Woo is right for designating him a danger .

Right now is one of those times, because he is...this is the worst thing he's ever done, he knows. This makes him sick to his stomach. But he has no choice.

He closes the ankle monitor around Cassie's leg, and she frowns sleepily at him past her pale, pale face. "I don't want you to get in trouble," she says, her eyes wide. She's nine , cursed with a worry beyond her years for her own father even while she moans in pain. "Is it going to be okay?"

He forces a smile. "I'm a pro at this, remember? And it's three o'clock in the morning. The only thing the FBI is going to see in the morning is a little blip on their monitors. Nothing unusual." The monitor has a delay programmed in for those blips, and it won't register the seconds that it had been shut off, removed from Scott's ankle, and placed onto Cassie's. "I'm so, so sorry about this."

He hates this, hates every part of it. But he has no choice. Maggie and Paxton are out of the country on vacation, and they'd been careful to make sure that Scott is fully stocked with everything he'd need for Cassie. And he'd had children's Tylenol, he'd had a whole bottle of it, but Cassie had decided to try to get it herself instead of waking him up and had spilled it all over the floor.

And here she is, whimpering in bed with a fever and a terrible headache, and no one is answering the phone because it's fucking three o'clock in the morning and Scott is on his own.

"Stay put, Peanut," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her hot forehead. "I'm going to be back before you know it." Cassie nods, letting out another moan, and Scott wraps a blanket around her and leaves her alone in the house, sick and with an ankle monitor on her leg.

He's too agitated to enjoy the freedom that comes with being able to step off of his property, the sensation of walking down the street without sirens and Woo's disapproving face. Cassie is home on her own, in pain, and Scott has to risk years in prison right now to help her.

There's a twenty-four hour drugstore three blocks down. This shouldn't take long. The streets are silent this late at night, a few figures moving in the dark up ahead who scatter when they see him coming. There's a single car in the drugstore parking lot, a few kids leaning against it as they argue in low tones, and Scott pulls his sweatshirt hood over his face and slips into the store.

Inside, the store is brightly lit, and the clerk is snoozing behind the counter. There's almost no one inside, short of a woman in a hoodie examining something in the medicine aisle. Scott walks past her, his heart still pounding like he's running a marathon. His phone buzzes, and he glances down and winces.

It's a text from Cassie on the phone they'd gotten her for emergencies. drank sum watr n feel WAY!! beter now!!! gonna sleep ok luv u daddy . "Oh, Peanut," he murmurs, shaking his head, but he's relieved. His grand escape from the house had been unnecessary, but at least Cassie's okay.

He picks up the children's Tylenol anyway, then grabs a second and a third just in case. After this incident, he can't be too careful. He's brought along cash to pay for the medicine without leaving a trail. He heads back down the aisle, when he freezes, taking in his surroundings.