Blink Blink
(As the World Caves In (Sarah Cothran Ver.))
Cross Posted from AO3
https://archiveofourown.org/works/67643751
Summary: Angela hits on Argyle's empty cart after all the dust settles.
đź’–
Chapter 2:
Blink blink.
She watches the light at the end of the cart flicker listlessly. Nothing rushes to her head, no smoke leaks out.
It's been empty for a long time. Probably far before it landed in her possession.
It used to give her something, though barely anything. It hadn't mattered initially. She hadn't had any tolerance.
She either did now and what was left just wasn't enough or it was giving her nothing.
She assumed it was nothing.
It had made her feel high and silly before, laughing at everything and everyone even though no one was talking and nothing was listening.
She should have been more conservative with the hits she took. Now there was nothing left.
She keeps charging it anyway, connecting it with the Van. She charges it till it's full and then smokes it till it's empty. Nothing ever comes out.
She thinks it's just comforting now. Or maybe a routine.
She gets it though. Why they had smoked it. She had judged them for it before. God, the smell. Now she wishes she had taken the chance when Jane's brother and his friend offered her some out of pity.
She hadn't taken her pain medicine with her.
"It might make you feel better," the long haired hippy had said. She had shook her head stubbornly with her jaw pressed tightly together. Jane had prompted her to try it with sad eyes and wet lips.
It didn't smell as bad like this. She really should have. Maybe it had already been dead then. She never saw him pull it out.
Then again, she hadn't been paying him much attention. Hadn't been paying any of them much attention. Between him and Jane's brothers and Jane's ugly boyfriend-
She really only had eyes for Jane.
Her eyes fell to her as she wrapped her lips around the cart and took another blinker. She climbed over the gamy seats and tucked herself in beside her in the very back.
They had been sharing the space as a bed since Angela had joined them and found Jane. Jane was wrapped up in the blanket Angela had stolen for them. Her eyes closed and unfluttering.
Half of her face was gone. Scorched.
Angela remembered thinking- before everything, before them- when she had jumped into that van to find Jane with the others only to find all of her hair shaved off like a sheep and power running from her nose and staining her lips red- she remembered thinking that Jane could not possibly get any prettier than this.
She had been embarrassed by it. The sheer idea that she thought Jane was pretty. Jane was a freak, a loser, a crybaby, and a snitch. Too easy to bully. Her hair was awful and her clothes were ugly.
She was breathtaking to her even now.
She took another hit of the cart as she curled their fingers together. Jane's hand was cold in her own, but at least it was soft.
Blink blink.
Nothing.
Â
___________
Â
She had learnt a lot about Jane while they were stuck in the back of a pizza van together. She liked soda and eggos and got unnecessarily happy when Angela stole them candy.
Angel hadn't been a thief before, but the "party" that had taken up the van either had no money or had a wallet thinner than a runway model right before a weigh in.
Angela only stole more the longer they were on the road. It became like her job, her role in the "party". The same "party" Jane's boyfriend had told her she couldn't join and Angela hadn't cared at all about because she had never in her life cared about the opinion of a pimply rat.
But after her thievery keeps their bellies full, both he and Jane's brother start calling her "the rogue" and she has no idea what that is, but Jane beams brighter than she had in days when she hears it.
"You're on of us," she had told her quietly, after all the others had fallen asleep. They were holding hands again. Jane really liked to hold hands.
Angela had flushed and bit back the urge to screambecause she wasn't anything like this pack of greasy losers. She wasn't their "party member", she wasn't their friend.
She didn't actually understand what they were doing or why they were doing it or why so many people wanted to hurt Jane.
She just knew Jane had powers, was experimented on by scientists, and kept stealing Angela's lipgloss just to lick it all off the moment she was done coating it on thick.
Angela steals them more, even if it's lower quality and from the shelf of a 711. Jane won't touch them till Angela wears them first. She doesn't ask why— Jane was a freak. A freak that liked to lean in close and trace the edges of Angela's lips with her fingers to get rid of all the "smudges."
Angela may not have a mirror to prove it to her, but she knows it's perfect. She's been putting it on without a mirror for years. She's applied it in between classes, after kissing boys, after gym, and after eating at lunch. Jane's the one who struggles. Jane's the ones without any experience with makeup. Jane's the one that acted more like a creature than a girl and looked more like a clown than a princess.
She doubts a mirror would even help.
Angela's the one that ends up applying it for her- even if it's pointless. Even if Jane just wanted to lick it off like a dog.
Jane always stares at her lips when she does so.
Angela blames it on her being raised in a lab. Everything can be blamed on her being raised in a lab. Her lack of social skills, her odd behaviour, even the way she spoke—
Angela can only imagine what Jane could have been. Maybe not as sweet. Maybe not as shy. Maybe not as forgiving.
Her sweet Jane, someone else entirely.
Angela held the real version to her tighter without thinking and desperately hoped Jane hadn't noticed. She had fallen asleep before Angela- a common occurrence. Angela had a hard time sleeping with the pain pulsing from her nose bridge.
Jane deserved to be normal. Angela knows that.
Angela also knows that Jane was only sweet because she wasn't.
Â
_________
Â
She only steals their blanket after Jane shows interest in the color purple.
She likes the colour yellow too.
"Like your hair, Angela." She had confessed, her fingers curling through it too gently for someone who had just flipped a car with her mind.
Angela doesn't think anyone in the car survived.
Jane had tried to use her powers against Angela before. When she had raised her hand toward her and screamed.
Angela wonders if she would have survived either.
She doubts it.
Angela wonders if Jane would have regretted it. It's what keeps her from accepting any form of an apology. She didn't want Jane's pity over her nose, she didn't want Jane's regret boiling down to a flying skate at the roller rink.
Not when it could have been much worse. Not when it could have been something she couldn't take back.
Angela won't apologise for bullying her. Jane can't apologise for something that didn't happen. Both of their hands are cold despite how they cling together as if they were tied.
They shouldn't be holding hands.
I'm glad you're safe. Jane had said, back to her on that first night.
You wanted me dead, she thought furiously.
You tried to kill me.
Â
____________
Â
The first time she saw them kiss, it was a shock.
Not really. Not out of how unbelievable the idea of it was- but because she just wasn't used to seeing two guys kiss.
They had acted suspicious before- smoke rings traded back and forth too close, lips barely apart- she had seen enough to be cruel to Jane about it. About how she had gay brother and her other one probably was too. Probably wanted her boyfriend with the way he puppy eyed him.
She remembered telling Jane that she hoped he stole him.
She remembered Jane not knowing what gay meant.
Her jaw had dropped a little in shock, but of course she didn't know. Lab Rat Jane didn't know anything.
"I saw them kiss," she tells her smugly, later as they share a family sized bag of M&Ms in the back of the van. Jane's boyfriend and her brother are off somewhere by themselves drawing maps and strategies in the dirt. The other two are outside washing the van without their shirts, practically for their entertainment or at least would be for their entertainment if they were anything close to attractive.
Jane's lips had drooped in confusion. "Jonathan has a girlfriend?" she replied smally.
Angela rolled her eyes. "No, he has a boyfriend.We've already been over this, Jane. Gay means-"
"He has a Nancy." Jane interrupted firmly.
That's when Angela gets it. "He's cheating on his girlfriend with a guy?" She guessed before she laughed.
The same thing might happen to Jane. Any day now.
Jane doesn't seem to find it funny. She lets go of Angela's hand. "Jonathan loves Nancy!" She claimed fiercely, looking upset enough for it to have been her boyfriend instead.
Angela couldn't help the mocking smile that slipped on to her face. She doubted it looked too kind.
"You don't cheat on people you love," she spoke, as if she were merely teaching her a new thing about the world- like when she explained to her what the word gay meant. She had been mocking her then too, she realised. She doesn't know if Jane even notices.
Jane blanches, her pale face daring to go paler. Angela worries for a startling second before Jane's face turns angry.
"I don't believe you," she says pointedly. The bag of M&Ms fall from her hand and into her lap. Her jeans were covered in stains. "You want Mike to be stolen."
Angela pinched her pretty eyebrows together. "It's not my fault both of your brothers are gay, Jane." She says innocently as one of her hands reaches into her lap to pluck the bag of candy from between her legs.
Jane flushed. Angela reached into the bag to take out an M&M and pressed it to her lips. Jane watches her suck on it and Angela flutters her eyelashes at her with a sweet smile.
"Look on the bright side," she cooed as she reached into the bag to press another M&M against the other girl's lips. Jane looked confused, her eyes were wide and her lips trembled as she slowly opened her mouth to let Angela press it inside. "You'll be free to date someone a lot cuter."
Angela wasn't sure how cute boys from Indiana managed to be, her current company didn't inspire hope to bloom, but there had to be at least one or two that could work.
Jane's cheeks were cherry red. Her eyes had widened even further and she looked almost panicked. Angela smirked and pressed the plastic back into her hand. Jane's fingers immediately tightened around the bag and she simply holds it while she swallows and goes back and forth between looking at Angela and looking away at her older brother covered in suds and his friend that couldn't keep his hands to himself.
"Mike's my boyfriend." Jane says finally, after her face had cooled down. "He loves me and he can't be stolen. Will wouldn't steal him. He's my friend."
Angela scoffed. Please. She had been with them too long. She had seen the desperate way he looks at him too many times. They sneak off by themselves.
Just like her and Jane.
She waved her off. "Fine, but don't cry to me when your boyfriend starts tasting like your brother's lipgloss."
Â
_______________
Â
The pain in her nose is excruciating, but she grinds her teeth instead of complaining and cries whenever she thinks no one is looking. She steals pills from the gas stations they visit, but they aren't nearly as strong as the ones the hospital gave her.
She's offered weed again. She turns it down again. Jane puppy eyes her with guilt, her boyfriend glares at her sharply. Angela doesn't care to appease the crooked couple.
Her nose hurts.
And It's Jane's fault.
She remembers that when the girl tries to hold her at night in the back of the van. She's stiff and unforgiving. Snappish.
It upsets Jane, who looks at her with eyes too big and hurt and guilty. Angela doesn't care. Her nose hurts too bad.
She really wished she had brought her medicine with her.
"Angela," Jane whispered.
Angela growled. She had been trying to sleep for the past hour and half with no luck. Not even pretending to be dead helped. "What?"
Jane hesitated. "I want to try to heal you."
Angela turned toward her. She studied her face. "What?" She repeated, much softer.
Jane's eyebrows were pinched together, her face locked in a pout. "I want to try to heal you."
Angela studied her, watched her swallow and itch at her skin. "Have you ever done that before?"
Jane's face twisted. "No."
Angela turned back around and tucked herself back in. "Then don't bother."
Jane made a noise of complete and utter sadness, but Angela was smiling.
It hurt, but at least Jane was miserable about it.
Â
_______________
Â
She hands Jane's boyfriend a diet soda she stole from the next gas station they stop at.
"You need it," she tells him, even though he's scrawny.
He scowls at her, his face even uglier in that state. Jane's brother laughs from beside him, but tries to hide it. He looks at him, disgruntled at his betrayal and she tosses Jane's brother a bag of blue ranch Doritos (that would likely be shared between them. They'll probably share the soda too.) while she climbed into the back with Jane at her tail.
The two share a longer interaction. One that has Jane smiling with bright eyes and her brother gloomily staring at the window.
Angela knows she's right. Jane's just too lab rat to see it.
She made room for Jane as she climbed back and opened the container of roasted peanuts. Their meals were usually just snacks and Angela was honestly shocked to be losing weight while eating junk food.
Jane carefully watched her face for her reaction as she ate it before she reached for some.
Angela smirked as she chewed threw another one, popping it into her mouth to show off.
Jane smiled around the one she dared to taste. "It tastes sweet and salty."
Angela tried not to laugh. "That's why I like 'em."
Jane reached for another one and Angela grabbed her wrist. Jane looked up at her with puppy eyes, like she was begging her not to be mean.
"I want to try and throw it in," she tells her. "Open your mouth."
Jane hesitates, Angela isn't surprised, but she listens anyway, and Angela isn't surprised.
She carefully aims while Jane sits still with her mouth hanging open before she tosses the peanut and it soars between the other's lips. Jane quickly seals them and Angela mockingly celebrates with a light dance.
It earns her a smile.
The two boys seated in front of them share their own conversation. Their own dance, their own smile. Angela notices, Jane doesn't, but Angela doesn't bother pointing it out to her. Jane won't listen. She's too convinced she's in love.
Maybe she is, maybe he isn't.
Jane doesn't even seem to consider the possibility.
You'd think he was the first boy she ever met.
Â
__________
Â
They talk about monsters, in nerd code she didn't understand. Something about a Demi Gorgon, something about a Vecna and the upside down, something about mother Russia, something about Eleven- Jane, and something about a Steve.
She's honestly surprised they know so many people.
Jane tries to fill her in on who's who and what's what, but Angela could barely even remember the names of the people she was stuck in a van with.
Until Jane tells her about a Max.
Angela isn't interested at first, just a boy name in a long list of boy names, until-
"She wouldn't have let you bully me,"
She stops in the middle of putting her hair into a bun, making it come out messier than she wanted. She stares at Jane, but the girl doesn't buckle under the weight of it. She had said it with a firm voice and her face reflected the seriousness of how much she believed what she said.
"She?" Angela parroted snidely in disbelief. She had been under the impression that all Jane's friends were boys.
"She took me to the mall," Jane added proudly, like she thought the world of Max. "We had a sleepover."
"Yeah?" Angela smirked, even though she was beyond irritated. "What did you do at this sleepover?"
Jane looked almost embarrassed. She looks ahead to make sure her boyfriend was still hiking ahead of them before she leaned forward to whisper. "She taught me how to handle boys."
Angela's lips curled into an evil grin. She stepped in closer so their foreheads tapped together.
There wasn't anything that girl, Max, could teach Jane that Angela didn't know more about.
"What did she teach you about boys," Angela whispered.
Jane shivered. Her eyes were locked on Angela's lips. "I..."
"What are you two doing back there?" Jonathan asks and the two separate.
Angela eyed him with distaste.
It had nothing to do with how much she had wanted Jane to respond.
Â
____________
Â
She steals the queers up front a box of condoms and gets a bunch of ugly looks for her trouble.
She scoffed. What? Was she the only one concerned about HIV?
The hippie, at least, thinks it's funny and pockets them while giving Jonathan a sunny smile.
Jonathan's face blisters into a painful red as he sucks another puff from the joint they keep passing back and forth. It smells terrible and Angela wishes they would quit.
Jane quit talking to Jonathan for betraying Nancy and she doesn't know if Jonathan even notices. He's a busy man, up front. His eyes religiously study the roads for any cars that may be following them. He looks tired, his eyes bloodshot and bruised.
He isn't pretty enough to be gay, but really, neither is the hippie.
Angela sighs. Her nose pulses alongside her to its own tempo. It aches, of course it aches, but she's grown used to the ever itching intensity of the pain.
"A root beer," Jane's boyfriend tells her like it's an order, like she's a waitress, at their next pit stop.
She rolls her eyes, but complies and grabs him one when she's inside. She has trouble choosing something for her and Jane and settles on a carton of pizza flavored goldfish. She contemplating stealing a pack of gum when she's grabbed from behind, a strong hand on her shoulder.
A strong man holding her shoulder with strong, handsome features.
He was handsome, she thought. If I'm going to be killed at least he was handsome.
His eyes had no light in them, they were dark and bleak and left her feeling chilled over. He leaned in close to her face. She could feel his breath on her cheek. It smelled sharply like alcohol.
"Vere is the girl?" He asked lowly, his voice cold and demanding.
"Angela!" Jane hollered, and the man looks up. He doesn't get long before Jane is throwing him with her mind powers. The gas station erupts into small chaos- seeing as how the only other people were workers and two old men scratching off raffle tickets.
Angela jumps into action and runs to grab Jane's hand. She drags her out the door and they run together across the parking lot toward the van. She hears shouts behind her inside the gas station and then a couple of gunshots.
The people inside the van don't question them. They immediately buckle up and hit the gas.
Then they immediately begin questioning them.
"What the hell was that?" Jane's boyfriend demands as he glares at Angela, probably thinking she got caught stealing.
"A bad guy had Angela!" Jane replies with urgency, like it was still happening in front of her.
"A Russian guy," Angela added meaningfully.
The two nerds look at each other.
"They're one step ahead of us." Jane's brother croaked, his skin clammy and white.
Angela didn't know what he meant. She hands Jane's boyfriend his root beer to share with his sweet heart and shows Jane the gold fish she got them.
It earns her a half smile, but everyone's moods were too damp. Sour Mike looked ever more sour while her brother's eyes were vacant.
Angela didn't know what he meant.
Â
_____________
Â
They collect scrap metal. She isn't sure why. No one tells her why and she doesn't ask.
Her and Jane carry the big pieces together. Jonathan and his hippie boyfriend strap them to the van. She catches them making out again while bringing them a broken piece of a school bleacher, and this time Jane is right beside her. Her eyes are wide with shock and betrayal at the evidence in front of her. Angela couldn't be happier to be proven right.
Jane cries about it, like it was her boyfriend, and Angela has to comfort her by holding her hand.
Jane was too sensitive. It had annoyed her before, enough for her to keep picking and prodding like Jane was a scab, but now she just liked to hold her while she squirmed.
When she's done crying she slabs herself down on top of Angela and breathes in her hair. Angela complains the entire time but doesn't move to dislodge her.
"Nancy will be heartbroken," she claims timidly.
Angela brushed her thumb in circles against Jane's wrist. "After falling in love with that thing, maybe she'll finally get a grip."
Jane pulled herself away. "Why are you so mean!?"
Angela frowned, her mood slipping. "I was just joking, Jane."
"It's not funny," Jane replied earnestly and Angela held herself back from rolling her eyes.
"You think Mike and Will are doing that?" Jane asked her softly.
Angela smirked viciously. "You know exactly what I think."
Jane looked horribly miserable, her eyes tearing up before she runs off, likely to find her boyfriend and her brother.
Angela watches her till she disappears.
She has nothing else to look at these days.
Â
___________
Â
"Jonathan and..." she stalls, but no one jumps in to save her. "...Gargoyle."
"No," Mike, as previously established, snorts.
"Really?" Jane's brother asked, sounding truly shocked. "We've been stuck together for more than a month."
Angela gives him an apologetic smile and a shrug, even though she wasn't feeling all too sorry.
"Such a rogue," Mike complained like the word he used was a slur.
Maybe it was. She didn't actually know anything about what they were saying.
Jane didn't treat it like a slur, but maybe she didn't really know either. Angela couldn't trust her to keep her in the loop among all the nerd talk, Jane was too socially awkward to pick up on anything.
Angela didn't care anyway. It's not like she particularly gave a fuck about what this band of losers thought about her.
They were still lame and greasy, and she was still soft and pretty. After they saved Jane or the world or whatever, that simple fact wouldn't change.
She almost felt bad for them, playing hero for nothing.
Â
___________
Â
She steals Jane her own tube of lipgloss, but she only ever uses Angela's. The girl would probably steal it straight off of her lips if she could.
Angela's getting to a point where she wouldn't mind. She and Jane share pretty much everything now. They're like twins, but if they were conjoined by their hands instead of their hips.
They don't act like sisters. At least not like sisters from California. Angela's aware of that. Jane might not be.
Angela doesn't pressure her to do better.
Instead, she lets Jane press herself too close. She doesn't bring up boundaries when she smells her hair, she doesn't tell her to stop when she presses their foreheads together, and she lets her cling to Angela like she was a scared little girl.
She tries not to think about Jake, Stacy, or Chad, or about what they must think about what happened to her. She isn't sure when they'd be back or what she was going to tell them about Jane.
She's too awkward to hang out with them. An unnatural lull in the conversation. A joke that never landed. A baby dropped too hard and never picked back up. She lacked too much charisma and social grace to ever be their friend.
Angela didn't want to leave her behind.
Â
____________
Â
They shower at a truck shop. It's full of men and they stare, but Angela refused to let them deter her from washing herself for the first time in weeks.
She and Jane share a stall and Jane needs help working the shower. They use dollar general soap that smells incredibly strong and fruity. She ends up washing her back and getting the same done in return. She closes her eyes as the water cleanses her and Jane's hands slide up and down her body.
She feels so much better without all the grime.
She turns around to face Jane and her skin is flushed a dark pink. She's trembling underneath the spray of water, even though Angela had the temperature turned up pretty high.
"Thank you, Jane." She purred out. She was covered in foamy bubbles and they were sliding off of her and disappearing down the drain. Her hair wasn't long enough to cover her breasts. Jane wouldn't stop staring at them.
Angela tilted her head back a little as she smiled down at her smugly. She began to massage her tits like she was washing them and bubbled up inside with giggles over the way Jane's mouth opened dumbly. She reached for her and grabbed her by her wrist to guide her closer.
"Help me wash up, Jane." She pleaded in a whisper. When Jane didn't move, she moved to help herself. She pinched one of her nipples and gasped. Jane gasped with her.
"Angela," she whispered hotly. Angela didn't answer. Instead she grabbed her bony wrist and guided her hand toward her chest.
Jane's hand sealed around her breast and Angela let out a breath of relief. Jane's fingers twitched before they began to explore, brushing and stroking her skin curiously.
Angela closed her eyes and let herself enjoy it. Especially when Jane started tugging on her nipples. She bit back the worst of the noises and spread her legs slightly where she stood.
Jane's fingers were a little too rough, her stroking a little too insistent. Angela pressed her chest up and out toward her anyway. Her nipples were hard and swollen and the more Jane played with them, the slicker the space between her legs became.
Jane was breathing harder than she was. She looked absolutely transfixed as she studied every twitch of Angela's body and face.
"Pretty, Angela." Jane murmured. Angela nearly cried out as a burst of pleasure ran through her, but Jane covered her splitting lips with her hand. Angela could feel slobber sliding down her chin.
"Pretty," she whispered again into her hair.
Angela gripped her shoulder with one hand and sent the other downstairs to dip into the wetness that had formed and spread down her legs. She whined behind Jane's hand as she rubbed and scratched on her clit. Jane said nothing, she just kept bouncing and massaging Angela's breast in her hand.
Angela begs behind her hand and is grateful it's so muffled and garbled its pure nonsense. She'd die of embarrassment if Jane had heard the things she thought within that moment, her brain loose and desperate.
Jane suddenly let go of her chest, Angela sobbed behind her hand. She blinked dumbly in confusion as Jane pulled her hand away from her pussy. Jane lifted it all the way up to her face and then moved her hand so it could take its place. Angela breathed through her mouth as she stared at Jane with wide eyes. Jane wasn't looking at her. She was too busy curiously brushing a finger through Angela's folds.
Angela choked on all the spit collected inside her mouth. She shoved the palm of her hand against her lips as she closed her eyes tightly.
"Why are you so wet?" Jane asked her innocently, a little too loud.
Angela's eyes popped open and her face burnt through. She hoped none of the men showering here heard them.
She didn't even get the chance to answer before Jane was sliding a finger inside of her.
Angela let out a breathy moan against her hand and Jane moves it around like she was seeking treasure among Angela's walls. Angela leaned most of her body against her, her knees feeling weak and unreliable.
Another finger and Angela's pretty sure she's going to cum soon. She isn't sure how she's going to be quiet about it.
She tries to get Jane's attention without having to use her voice- it'll be obvious by the sound of her what they were doing- by tapping on Jane's shoulder but Jane adds a third finger instead of listening and Angela leans against the shower wall to give her room.
Jane thrusts her fingers inside of her like she's trying to punch something in place. Angela cries to her hand about it and it barely blocks it out in return.
Her body arches dramatically as Jane's constant rubbing makes her sing. She hopes her hand covers it.
She doubts it.
If she was too loud, Jane says nothing. Instead, she tilts her face forward and stares deeply into Angela's eyes. It makes Angela feel uncomfortable, too intimate or something, but she quickly forgets when Jane presses her lips to Angela's nipple.
Her free hand jumps to cling to Jane's buzzed scalp. It had grown a little, so that a hedgehogs length of hair had grown and thrived. She tugs at what's there, and Jane murmurs against her nipple softly.
"Jane," she begs brokenly behind her hand as the other's fingers spread open from where they were buried deep inside of her.
She slapped Jane's shoulder when she slipped in a fourth. Jane pouted at her and slowly twisted her fingers back and forth to stretch her out.
"Come on, Angela." She whispered straight into her ear. "You're almost there."
"What are you talking about?" Angela snarked. Her pussy clenched around Jane's fingers and Angela's face flushed in embarrassment at the terrible timing.
Jane tilts her head and studies her before she goes back to thrusting her fingers inside of her at a disrespectful pace.
Angela mewled and threw her head back against the wall. Her hand slips off her mouth to meet the other around Jane's neck and she bites her lips closed. She spread her legs wider and Jane cradled one with her hand. More slobber leaked past her lips and Jane leaned down to lick at the trail of it.
She was going to cum. Angela was still worried about how loud it was going to be.
She was considering kissing Jane.
That would keep her quiet. Probably. Mostly anyway.
She grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her closer. Jane looked at her fervently, her puppy eyes full of love and adoration and all things sweet as sugar cubes.
She pressed their lips together softly and the fingers inside of her stall as Jane freezes against her. Angela whines insistently against her lips, moving her hips against her still fingers.
Jane doesn't move and Angela breaks the kiss to stare at her.
"Jane," she whispered longingly, brushing her fingers against the others lips like she does when she steals her lipgloss.
Jane studied her. She looked torn. "Do you love me Angela?"
Angela shivered under the water. She swallowed tightly.
Why did Jane have to ask that?
Angela was too horny for...this.
"Jane," she started apologetically and Jane added the fifth and final finger, the thumb curled in with the rest and punched forward, cutting her off completely.
"Then don't kiss me,"
She snapped, before she started fisting her at the same brutal pace she fingered her at before.
Angela was left stunned and scratching at Jane's shoulders. She came embarrassingly fast, and couldn't dictate just how loud she had been while simultaneously knowing she had failed to be quiet, but Jane didn't stop fisting her because of it. Even when Angela smacked her on the shoulder desperately. Even when she begged her softly in the ear.
"Angela," Jane called to her eventually and Angela's answer was completely broken. She didn't think she could lift her head anymore.
"How do I come?" She asked, sounding horribly confused.
"What?" Angela moaned as Jane continued to fist her unflinchingly.
"How do I come?" Jane repeated, entirely serious and sounding just as desperate as Angela.
Angela couldn't help but laugh. Too loud and too bright and Jane is quick to slap a hand over her lips.
Angela comes again right then, her pussy clenching around Jane's fist rhythmically. She let out a high pitched squeal that she knows Jane's hand doesn't muffle well enough. She doesn't care what old geazer trucker gets off on them. She was too horny to care if they watched.
She grabbed Jane's wrist firmly. "You want to come?" She asked and Jane nodded adamantly.
Angela guided Jane's soaked fist toward her own pussy. She hopes the girl is smart enough to get the hint.
Jane lets out a sharp breath. Angela feels her pussy clench at the thought of her fisting herself.
Jane plays with the wetness between her legs before she looks up at Angela and shakes her head. She presses her messy fingers to Angela's lips. Angela's mouth slides open in shock and in they go.
She moans around them and Jane uses them to keep her quiet as she lowers Angela to her knees by her shoulder.
"You'll help me come, right Angela?" She asks as she shoves Angela's face into her flooding pussy.
Angela wished she didn't immediately cave in and start slurping on Jane's clit.
Â
______________
Â
It becomes a thing.
The showers.
Angela looks forward to them but never references them. She and Jane don't talk about it and they don't hook up anywhere else either.
Still, the question remains.
"Angela, are we gay?" Jane muttered softly to her in the back of the dingy old pizza van while they were eating red vines and Snoballs. They were pressed too close together, every flash of skin covered by another's and holding each others sticky hands.
"Don't say that," Angela snapped, hot panic blooming in her chest and tearing at her lungs with its thorns.
"Sorry." She whispers and truly did sound regretful.
A silence falls between them and Angela wanted to cry. She wanted to rip the sky right off the canvas. She wanted to fight Jane for even saying it out loud.
Are we gay?
No, they weren't. Or at least, Angela wasn't.
Angela wasn't a freak like Eleven.
Â
______________
Â
They find another Russian guy, a less attractive one with a more trigger happy finger, on their trail and hastily keep driving after Angela pushes him over while he's tucked away inside a porta potty.
Everyone is silent and on edge in their seats inside the van. Angela scratches at the stickers on the sides when they stop to stretch their legs two states over.
She feels just as hunted as the rest.
She's especially annoyed about it because she wasn't even supposed to be wrapped up with them in the first place.
She was likely just as big of a target now though.
Jane grabs her hand and drags her off away from the others with red rimmed eyes.
"Go home," she begs earnestly.
It catches Angela off guard. "What?"
"Go home, Angela," she insists with fat pupils that threatened to leak and spill. "It's safer at home."
Angela pauses. She doesn't actually know that. Her home could be a target now too. Her mom now a target for Russian torment.
She didn't want to go home regardless. Her place felt like it was next to Jane.
"You go home first," she mocked lightly as she tapped the tip of her finger against Jane's nose.
And I'll follow you there.
Â
_____________
Â
Blink, blink.
Angela's eyes curled up toward the metal ceiling. Shadows danced across the silver surface like figure skaters on an ice rink.
Angela was cold. Jane was even colder beside her.
The cart in her hand overheated often and kept her hand and lips feeling warm.
It tasted like the scrap metal that decorated the van like armour.
Angela paused and breathed out nothing special.
She had never realised it was armour.
Â
____________
Â
Their backs are pressed into the cold metal roof of the van as they looked at the stars together. Things still feel strangely delicate between them, but their hands are clasped tightly together despite that.
Jane had given Angela the opportunity to cut ties and run and she hadn't taken it.
Angela wouldn't go back to California without her. She didn't care if all of Russia followed her there.
Jane seemed content in her defeat, or maybe just really didn't want Angela to leave.
Angela didn't really want to leave either. They finally agreed on something.
"Angela," Jane gushed as she pointed to a falling star. "It's coming to us."
Angela turned her head and smiled at her. "You're supposed to make a wish, you know."
Jane looked up at the sky with wide eyes before she closed them and seemingly made a wish. Angela's sure it was something for Mike, or her dead father, or possibly even a box of eggos.
"Whatcha wish for," she pushed after her eyes reopened.
Jane smiled brightly at the stars. "That we'll all be okay," she whispered.
Â
_____________
Â
She tries to steal them a rope of hot dogs for lunch.
She was sick of all the snack food and wanted a real meal, but it almost costs her more than the sausages themselves were worth.
She thought she had it all planned out. The vendor was a pimply college kid. His jaw had went slack when they had caught eyes and he looked all too easy to distract.
She hadn't calculated the pack of Demo dogs into the equation. They tear the college kid into six separate pieces while they give her a head start.
She had never seen them before, but they were ugly little things and clung to her boot heels with their teeth when she ran. She called out for help and they had Jane jumping out of the van like a dog that had snapped its leash.
She must really hate them, Angela thought.
The way she sent them flying with her mind and a fierce snarl on her face only cemented that.
The way she clung to Angela afterward had nothing to do with it.
Â
_____________
Â
"You sure you don't want some?" The hippie asks her as he and Jane's brother blow smoke at each other's faces.
The pain her nose brought her barely mattered to her anymore. It was constant and eternal and she had accepted that.
"I'm positive," she rejected snootily and scooted in closer to Jane. They were looking through a teen magazine she stole from a gas station and Angela was trying to show her what a cute boy actually looked like.
Mike didn't appreciate the criticism and had stormed off with Jane's other brother trailing awkwardly after him. Angela hoped they had fun.
Jane oohed over a pair of colorful earrings. Angela thought they were too chunky and tacky, but she supposed she couldn't expect Jane to have good taste.
She redirected Jane's attention toward a stellar top. It's shimmery and light, designed strictly for parties. She thinks Jane would look good in light purples. Jane made a noise of consideration.
"Can you two focus?" Jonathan sighed, like he wasn't sighing out a thick cloud of mind numbing smoke.
Angela rolled her eyes and Jane giggled.
"Hurricane Mike already stormed off," she pointed out and flipped a page.
Jane pointed at a pair of jeans that actually were pretty cool. The flared ends had been tie dyed like a sunset and smeared with gold glitter.
She gave her a proud smile and Jane beamed back.
"They could be waiting for us at the next stop," Jonathan warned darkly, his face serious.
"They probably are," Gargoyle added pessimistically.
Angela clenched her jaw.
"Mike knows they are." Jane's brother whispered, already back and gloomier than ever.
She flipped another page.
She pointed a cherry red skirt out to Jane and didn't get a response, her attention stolen elsewhere and anxiety obviously brewing within her.
Angela cursed under her breath and glared at the boy pacing in the distance.
He looked sweaty and troubled as he dug a stick into the ground and carved at the floor like he might be able to escape from where he stood. He looked itchy and ghostly with his pale skin pooling fast and sinking faster into his clothes. He was sunburnt. His hair was greasy despite the showers.
He really was ugly.
She didn't understand Jane at all. How could she possibly like them both? They looked and acted nothing alike.
Though maybe it wasn't fair to compare him to Angela.
She had been perfect from the beginning.
Â
______________
Â
She's dripping after another shower when Jane wraps her arms around her.
"Angela," she whispered softly.
Angela shivered and clung to her wrist. She didn't want Jane to try to press her hand back inside her. She liked to make Angela over sensitive. She liked to rub and push up against her till she teared up and cried.
Angela thinks it might be revenge. Jane's way of getting back at her for all of the teasing and bullying.
She licks them like they'll cure her and cleanse her of all of those nasty moments. Like Angela's tears swept away Jane's and took their place.
Jane doesn't seem to understand that Angela's tears were different. That they weren't made out of humiliation or helpless anger.
Okay, maybe a little- but they were mostly made out of desperation to escape the intensity of the overstimulation Jane was gut punching into her.
It was like she didn't understand how obscene it was in the fucking first place. Had Jane even done anything with her boyfriend? Why was she so comfortable stuffing her hand inside Angela's pussy and beating it?
Jane could be really bossy about it too and insistent. She often left Angela huffing in anger. This was likely going to be one of those times.
Angela squirmed, but Jane didn't move her hand. She just held Angela close to her warmly.
"I'm glad you're here, Angela." Jane whispered. She cuddled in closer and her breath drifted down Angela's back.
Angela ran her fingers through the shirt tresses that had begun to grow.
"But I still want you to go home." Jane ruined.
Angela rolled her eyes and scratched at her scalp. Jane leaned into it anyway, as if it had been a caress.
"Quit trying to tell me what to do," she replied prissily.
Jane looked hurt. Her eyebrows creasing and folding her face into something to pity. "I care about you Angela." She whispered earnestly.
Angela scoffed. She couldn't believe Jane thought she was so stupid. "Yeah, well you wove your boyfriend and you're not trying to send him home."
Jane stopped in place. She didn't seem to know what to do with herself. "Mike is...used to this."
"So am I," Angela admitted bitterly.
Jane didn't look convinced.
Â
______________
Â
Angela was proven wrong when a gas station worker was bloody and dead behind the counter before she even walked in. He had Russian letters carved into his face. His eyes stared listlessly into Angela's. A boring shade of hazel. Nothing moved behind them.
The rest of the store was empty of people. The lights flickered like they were broken.
Angela only told the others after she stuffed her bag full of food and joined them in the van.
She knew it was risky. She knew it was possible or even likely that the person or people who did this was still in the store, but she promised Jane she'd grab her a bag of skittles.
She grabbed a whole lot more than that and unloaded the bag in the back in front of the angry crew. Mike and Jane's brother immediately started grabbing at the candy bars and traded among each other like they were Pokémon cards.
"It's not worth dying over, Angela." Jonathan reprimanded, like he was anything close to an actually adult.
Gargoyle grabbed a pink twin set of snoballs. "Really cool of you to grab it anyway."
"Argyle!" Jonathan nudged roughly and the man swerved while driving.
"It's not worth dying over, Jonathan." Gargoyle mocked and Angela laughed.
Jane still didn't look happy. Despite the skittles in her hand. She looked angry with Angela.
Angela could guess why. She tries to smile, to put her at ease.
Jane eats the skittles, but doesn't touch her the next time they're in the shower. She coldly turns away from her and doesn't even look at Angela.
She doesn't press herself against her when they sleep and when Angela tries to talk to her the next morning on their hike through a government compound, Jane runs off to walk with her boyfriend and her brother instead. Mike drops him mid conversation to turn to her and they walk in step while her brother stalls from behind.
She and Will make eye contact. Their expressions were eerily matching, like corporate dolls. She isn't sure what she sees in his eyes, but she's pretty sure they were only reflecting hers.
They walked silently next to each other and hoped they didn't die that way. The spares discarded while the true lovers died hand in hand.
Â
_____________
Â
Angela ignores her.
She doesn't let the girl share with her anymore and gets her her own things and her own food. It seems to break Jane's heart. She gets all misty eyed and her lips wobble.
Angela doesn't care. She crosses her arms and pops her bubblegum while she waits for the van to stop.
That's all her life really is now. She's a thief sitting in the back of a van with a bunch of losers and a freak.
A freak that thinks she can be cold to Angela and get away with it. Over literally nothing too.
She already busted her fucking nose. What more did she want?
What else could she possible want from Angela?
She was here and Jane was ungrateful. She didn't even want her here. The others only wanted her here to steal them food and deodorant.
Angela was wasting her time and risking her life for people she didn't even like, for people who didn't even like her back.
Jane tries to brush her hand and she pulls it away. She can see the blur of her in her peripheral. She almost looks nothing like her Jane.
The others still call her "El" and Eleven. Maybe that was who she was. Maybe Angela's sweet Jane was just a freak without powers. She had only been sweet because she couldn't hurt anyone anymore.
She has tried to hurt Angela anyway and Angela had seen the way the girl used her powers, "hurt" was being gracious.
The van stops and she hops out once Gargoyle opens the door. He pumps gas while she steals snacks. It was their system for months and he was probably the nicest to her out of the rest.
Jane grabs the back of her shirt before she can leave. Angela turns to her with a raised brow. She knew the girl would apologise.
Jane's eyes are bright and earnest as they burned into Angela's before she slowly let her go. "Be careful, Angela." She pleaded softly.
Angela's heart deflated with disappointment and she scoffed before she spun around.
The bell rung above her head to mark her arrival when she opened the door and the gas station worker smiled softly at her before she went back to tending to an old lady and a large bag of nickels and dimes.
She almost felt bad for stealing from her, but the people in that van had to eat. She walked the aisles of the gas station and pondered the selection.
A hand gripped her shoulder and she immediately threw out an elbow to knock whoever had her in the face. She felt the impact and then heard a thud and turned around to see Jane's boyfriend groaning on the floor.
"What are you doing, you creep?" She asked him in shock and disbelief.
He glowered up at her before he crawled up to his knees to stand up. His chin was awfully red.
"We have to leave," he told her quickly and grabbed her shoulder again to pull her.
Her mouth hung open as he dragged her through the store. "What? Why?"
The gas station worker smiled at them and Angela smiled back instinctively.
The old woman and her bag of coins was gone.
"Keep your head down, you idiot!" He hissed.
Angela pushed him away from her. "Okay, what is your problem?" She snapped.
The gas station worker started walking out from behind the counter. Angela's eyebrows pinched together and she frowned deeply. She probably thought they were a bickering couple. Her eyes dropped down to the floor and they sharpen.
Jane's boyfriend practically throws her outside. She realises they left out of the back door when she doesn't see the van.
He grabs back onto her and shoves her back against the stone wall.
"Don't trust anybody!" Jane's boyfriend tells her immediately, adamantly, like it was a matter of life and death. "Anyone can be working for them! Anyone can be trying to get to her!"
Angela nodded so he'd let go. She wasn't sure what had psyched him out so bad, but-
"You have to protect her, Angela!"
She knows he's right.
The old woman had been dead on the floor behind the counter. She had seen her shoes and all the way up to her ankles and the bloody pool she laid in. Her white socks were splattered with it. The bag of coins open and spilled out around her.
She had likely only died because they had happened to show up at that moment.
"That's why the other one was dead," Mike ranted, his eyes bloodshot. "But we got there too soon before they could do the switch!"
Angela pushed him away from her and walked toward the van with her arms wrapped around her. She could hear Jane's boyfriend walking behind her.
She felt sick and stupid. Jane was right. Angela really didn't know what she was dealing with.
And Mike did.
Â
______________
Â
They make up later.
Somehow through the kissing and fisting and Jane begging her to go home- they make up.
Angela tells her no, Jane weeps.
Angela kisses her till she's gasping from something that isn't tears.
She isn't sure why everyone is so deadset on dying, but she holds Jane tightly to her in case they were right.
Â
______________
Â
She ran over a pack of demidogs with the van.
The others had been busy stooped over a plan etched out in sand by Mike and a long stick. Their faces pink and sweaty and shirts stained with the proof.
She couldn't handle the smell of sweaty boys and had stood clear of it all by staying near the van. It was some distance away, parked in a baking parking lot in the middle of nowhere.
She had heard a low growling- it had crept up on her- and when she dared to turn to see what on Earth was making it, her jaw dropped as she caught eyes with a pack of five demidogs. Their jaws were just as open as her's.
Her screech rose and died in her throat. She jumped into the van and turned the keys Gargoyle left in the ignition.
She ran them over. She chased them down and ran each and every one of them over.
The others rushed to her and jumped into the van to leave right after. She was passed from Gargoyle's lap to Jonathan's to Mike and then tossed in the back to Jane who wrapped her arms tightly around her and kissed her cheek.
She was shocked and outraged at being thrown into the back like she was a jacket.
She didn't realise they weren't running from the crime scene until the bullet shredded through the van's back door.
Â
______________
Â
Jane curls her fingers through her hair. "Angela," she whispered.
Angela arched her back and kissed her. They were in the back of the stale pizza van. Not a grimy shower stall.
The others were asleep, she hoped they stayed that way.
Jane gently twisted her fingers inside of her. Angela was having a harder time keeping quiet when she was being soft with her than when she wasn't.
Maybe it was because her boyfriend was right there.
She played with Jane's purse just as sweetly. The girl usually didn't let her touch it and preferred to shove Angela's face between her legs so she could press her lips or tongue against it.
Jane chirped like a bird when she was close.
"I love you, Angela." She insisted as Angela sucked on her neck.
Angela's heart soared like a lark and dropped dead like one too.
I love you, Angela.
She breathed into her collarbone and gripped her shoulder tightly.
"Jane," she nearly sobbed.
Jane kissed her softly. Angela believes her because she can taste it on her lips. Can hear it slip past her tongue and run straight through her.
I love you, Jane.
Â
______________
Â
Jane's brother stops her next to a gas station before she sneaks in to steal them snacks. She thinks at first that he's there to ask her for something specific but his pale face and wavering expression makes her doubt it just as fast.
He looked like he was going to talk to her about something else and she wasn't looking forward to anything he had to say.
He scratched at his arms like he was jittery with nerves or feening for drugs harder than anything Gargoyle had in his van.
"Mike's kind of lost it," he admitted, as a starter.
Angela pressed her lips together. He had always seemed like a nutcase to her. "And you're telling me, because?"
"Because you're the only one who isn't going to call me an insensitive prick for saying it." He admitted jadedly.
Angela huffed out a laugh. "Jane wants me to go home," she admitted.
Jane's brother let his head fall back against the hard bricks walls of the store. "That'd probably be for the best." He murmured softly.
She scoffed. "Why does everyone here want me gone so bad?"
Was she truly so terrible of company?
"It's not that- it's just-" He tried to explain before he sighed. "It's dangerous." He decided lamely and kicked at the dirt. "I guess she must really care about you."
Angela flushed and flipped her hair. "Yeah, well. I'm not useless. If you gang of nerds can take it, so can I."
Will smiled. It looked like something a little boy would wear. "If you had been with us from the beginning, things would have been different."
Angela isn't sure what he means, but he looks at Mike when he says it.
Angela shrugged noncommittally. "You'd look better, that's for sure."
He shakes his head and leans back as if he was exhausted.
"He's really sure we're going to die," he revealed quietly.
Angela closed her eyes. She didn't want to see his expression. "He's probably right."
Â
_______________
Â
Mike keeps drawling lines in the sand. Angela doesn't actually think they mean anything.
Mike's eyes don't have any light in them.
Will's is filled with something like desperation, anger, and fear. His stay on Mike.
Angela doesn't think anyone here believes they'll live.
Even Jonathan and Gargoyle make out openly like they've been sentenced to death.
None of them are straight. She supposed they were all going to hell.
Likely together. All at once.
She really was part of their stupid "party", wasn't she?
She was going down with the ship.
Â
_______________
Â
Angela's mom was probably freaking out. Angela wasn't sure if that mattered all that much to her or not, but she had to at least acknowledge it.
Her mom was probably sure something terrible had happened to her.
She was right of course. She just would never be able to guess what Angela had actually gotten herself involved in.
She probably thought about men and kidnappings and teenage boys and running away to be in love. She didn't even know what a demidog was.
Angela's mom was probably soaking up all the attention having a missing daughter gave her though.
Angela hoped she loved it, because it would likely replace her entirely.
Â
_______________
Â
Angela put the vape back onto the charger. She checked on Jane and made sure she was comfortable and clean before she carefully opened one of the van's doors.
Sand and rubble crushed to even smaller pieces under her feet as she rummaged through the scraps of metal and broken technology and glass.
She avoids Mike's plans. The lines he left behind in sand. They don't make any sense to her. They likely hadn't made any sense to him either.
She looks for something sharp and she finds something quickly.
She needs to cut Jane some new bandages for her face.
She climbed into the back and gently unwrapped her. The skin was healing unnaturally underneath, rapidly, but it was still leaving a mark where the explosion had obscured her face.
The skin there felt different. It was a gummy pink that looked like it had no business being above the skin. She applied a cooling salve to it and wrapped it back up under a fresh nest of gauze.
She kissed her lips before she lifted her head gently and poured water down her throat. She had been feeding her soups and meal replacement drinks. Stealing things and walking back and forth to the van took awhile, but Angela didn't really have a choice. She couldn't risk constantly moving the van and filling the gas tank.
She had cut her hair short. Like a boy's. She had cried while she did it, but not for her hair. She had been looking in the dead eye of Gargoyle, his face frozen and the rest of him singed and black.
She had known she needed to look different.
So she stole dye and dyed her perfect blond hair jet black. She hardly recognised herself when she saw her reflection in the van's mirrors.
Her nose looked perfect. It seemed to have healed perfectly. Like it never happened at all. Even though Angela can still feel the pain of it. Even though she still wants her pills.
She doesn't worry about whether or not Jane will still find her so beautiful. She still has the prettiest face ever. Jane's- Jane's has been blown off and yet Angela still looked like a princess with greasy short black hair, a mismatch of Mike and Will's clothes, and Gargoyle's large jacket wrapped around her shoulders.
Angela was still alive and wearing dead people's clothes.
She gently pressed her forehead to Jane's and closed her eyes. "I love you, Jane." She tells her, like always.
Like always, it falls on deaf ears.
Â
_______________
Â
Mike and Will wrestle like beasts in the hot sand. Heated emotions and heated words rise and fall from lips as they do nothing but grip at each other and tussle weakly under the hot sun.
They're humping each other, even though they're pretending like they're not.
Angela sighed and flipped a page. Jane was at the edge of her seat and looked like she wanted to jump up and separate them. Angela kept shaking her head at her.
"You've gotta let them get it out." She advised and snickered when Will punched Mike in the chest like he was the world's weakest child. It looked more like a fist bump left in the wrong place.
"Why are they mad at each other?" She asked sadly, her voice wobbly.
Angela shrugged. It was likely stress. Built up tension.
"I don't know," she admitted. She didn't really care either. The two of them should have already lip locked probably years ago. They were too cowardly and frigid and obnoxiously stupid.
Jane looked after them with puppy eyes. Their faces were red as they scraped at each other with open palms and their lips were threatening to beat each other too.
Angela sighed. She had no idea how Jane couldn't see it. Not that it mattered. Jane kissed her too much for it to matter.
It was all probably bullshit anyway and they were doomed or whatever. Angela was tired of waiting and watching Mike draw nothing important into the sand, but stare at it like it had the answers to the universe. Will probably was too. That might be the exact reason he was on top of him, grasping at straws, but Mike was probably on his last straw several weeks ago and had lost it somewhere between the countless miles that separated all fifty states across the U S fucking A.
He was probably too late.
"Why haven't you talked to him?" She asked stiffly. "Not now, but before?"
Jane doesn't answer and it pisses Angela off. She doesn't expect the anger, but it comes.
"He's been acting crazier and crazier like he's got rabies or something." She snapped.
Jane covers her face with her hands. Her voice is quiet and fractured into pieces. "It's my fault he's like this. I can't help him."
Angela sourly kicked at the sand. She didn't even like Mike. He was Jane's boyfriend. Her ugly and snooty and nerdy boyfriend from Indiana.
But somebody. Somebody should have said something to him forever ago.
He was drooling into the sand like a mental patient.
He was scratching desperately at another boy's skin.
He was kissing the lips of his girlfriend's brother like he was starving.
Angela quickly looked to Jane. Luckily, she was still tucked away behind her hands to hide from her boyfriend's deterioration.
Will and her caught eyes when they separated and Angela smirked at him and Mike before she looked back down at her magazine.
Maybe that would distract him from the itchiness of the hot sand, the blistering heat of the sun, and the hopelessness of their situation.
Â
______________
Â
Gargoyle brings her pain medicine. "It's Percocet." He says with a shiny grin as he hands her the plastic container of pills.
"Argyle," Jonathan sighed and rubbed at his face. "Tell me you did not pop one of those."
The boy made a guilty face at her before he shrugged at Jonathan. "I wouldn't remember if I did. Let's go, yeah?"
"Wait," she says in shock. "Where did you get this?"
Gargoyle tucked his hands into his jacket. "Magicians gotta keep his secrets, sorry maybe next time."
"There might not be a next time," Mike grumbled darkly. Will sighed heavily from beside him.
"Nobody asked you to speak, sourpuss." Gargoyle teased as he lit a joint between his teeth.
"You popped one," Jonathan accused.
"I couldn't. I'm allergic." Gargoyle swore.
Angela looked down at them like she didn't really know what to do with them. She had gotten so used to the pain. It followed her everywhere and kept her on edge.
She untwisted the cap and shook out a couple into her hand. She only needed one.
Jane handed her a coke.
"I'm so glad they fixed these," Angela said, mostly to stall. The pill sat loyally in her hand, waiting patiently for her.
"You didn't like new coke?" Will asked her with a smile.
She wrinkled her nose. "No, I hated it."
"It was created to be hated," Mike scoffed, unimpressed. "So we'd beg them for old Coke back."
Angela tilted her head. She hadn't thought of that. Then again, she didn't really think about why companies did anything. She looked down at the pill in her hand and mentally counted to three before she popped it into her mouth and chased it with sweet coca-cola. Jane finally quit breathing right next to her face.
"I love new coke," Gargoyle announced aloud, for others to hear.
Mike wrinkled his nose with her. "Nobody asked you to speak," he mocked. "And with opinions like that, they never should."
Jonathan snorted and pointed to where Gargoyle needed to turn. Angela never knew where they were going. She wondered how they chose their stops.
"New coke," he repeated and looked at Angela through the car's mirror. "Can you get one at our next gas station?"
Gargoyle beamed at him for the suggestion.
Angela fought a mean spirited smile and nodded her head weakly. The Percocet had kicked in and filled her with better things to think about.
Like how Jane looked so soft beside her. She was always staring at Angela and touching her and Angela wondered why she was sitting so far away. She scooted in closer so their shoulders touched.
Her hair had grown out to a spiky pixie. Angela liked to tie little bows in it and make it even spikier.
Why did the world want to take her from Angela?
It didn't even want them together in the first place. Even without the Russians or the powers or the ugly monsters that crawled up from hell, she and Jane were both girls.
They were hopeless regardless of whether they lived or died.
Â
______________
Â
Angela stirred in confusion. Everything felt wet and warm. Something insistent pushed at her. It slid against her and made her twitch.
She tried to close her legs and felt them stay open anyway. She tried again and felt the pressure between them increase. She whined and hot breath fell down onto her. Her pussy clenched.
She sleepily opened her eyes and looked down at Jane. Her mouth was buried between her legs. She kissed at her cunt insistently, tongue slipping out to kiss her properly. Jane makes eye contact with her and hums a greeting, probably a good morning.
Her eyes shut back close. "Jane," she pleaded softly.
Jane stuffs her face and doesn't care. Angela can hardly breathe, she had to press the blanket against her face to keep herself quiet. It was barely morning, all the others were still asleep. She couldn't wake them up.
"Jane," she repeated, obscured by cotton and stuck to her mouth with spit, Jane only continued to kiss her sloppily. Angela felt a scream build up. She couldn't let it out. She tried to tap on Jane's shoulder, but Jane didn't care.
Angela dug her fingers into her hair. The short strands made it easy to try and pull her off, as it forced her to grab her by the scalp.
Jane hissed. Her grip on Angela's legs clenching to stay in place.
Angela removed the blanket from her red face. "Too much," she hissed back.
Jane pouted. She licked her lips as she stared down longingly at Angela's pussy.
Angela's face flushed a deep shade of red. She felt herself get even wetter. She pressed her legs tightly together and rubbed them against one another. She shivered and gritted her teeth to keep herself quiet. How had Jane made her so sensitive? Everything felt like it was being licked by fire.
Jane whined weakly from above her like a puppy.
Angela furrowed her brows. She couldn't stay quiet under Jane. Not if she wasn't offering to cover her mouth or kiss her or offer some sort of gag. She bit her lip and rubbed her legs together again. Jane pressed her fingers deeper into her thighs as she watched. Angela hoped she was just as wet and miserable.
Jane watched her rock against herself with heated eyes. "You want more," she accused and dipped her fingers into the flooding pool Angela's pussy had turned into.
Angela firmly grabbed her wrist. "I can't," she swore softly. "I'll wake them up."
Jane frowned before she tilted her head. Her expression suddenly became very focused and Angela felt something terribly wrong happen inside her throat and chest. Jane's nose began to bleed a thin streak.
Angela's eyes widened. She opened her mouth to tell her to stop, but nothing came out. No noise escaped her.
Jane smiled proudly at her before she kissed her on the lips. She tasted like Angela. Angela tasted like tears.
When their lips separated, she redirected her attention back down to Angela's pussy.
Angela silently shook as she spread her legs and let her have her treat.
It didn't matter how much she came or how much she screamed- Jane could keep going to her heart's content because nobody could hear Angela.
She only stopped when the sun was well into the sky and the others were stirring under the glare of it.
She lifted Angela's head up by her chin. She stared into her eyes with that determined look again, the sharp feeling returned and Angela felt something inside her throat click back into place. Jane's nose bled and dripped down her lips as she smiled brightly at Angela.
Like a little kid that'll never understand what they did wrong.
"Don't ever do that again," Angela croaked, her eyes glazed.
Jane pressed her bloody lips to hers like she didn't say anything at all.
Â
_______________
Â
"Where's Jane?" Mike asked, his face twisted into something sour.
Angela shrugged. She popped another Percocet and flipped another page of her magazine. She had already read it six times. She needed a new one pronto.
"She looked upset." He said gruffly, an accusatory bite to his voice.
Maybe she was. Angela didn't care. She had to set boundaries or a superpowered freak like Jane would walk all over her.
She had taken away Angela's ability to speak. Like it was nothing.
"Maybe she needs a little boyfriend time," Angela teased.
Mike blushed brightly as he glared dully at her. He tightened his hands into fists at his sides before he marched away. His footsteps always so heavy, kicking up sand as he stomped away like a toddler.
Angela popped another Percocet all of ten minutes later. Her head felt heavy despite it, the ridges in her brain filled with gems and stones.
She handed one to Gargoyle when he sat down beside her and he quickly pocketed it without thought.
Â
______________
Â
Mike pushed her up against the wall of a gas station. His face heated as he kissed her. His hands were insistent, his eyes glowing and desperate before they closed.
Angela watched blankly while she mindlessly flipped through another magazine.
They stopped for gas, not for food. It was night time and the store was about to close anyway. She wasn't needed.
Obviously.
Jane was blushing pink and looking around- and when their eyes met, Angela maintains it. Watches her eyes burn and boil, before they close too. She doesn't look nearly as flustered when she's in a shower stall.
She wasn't as weak looking, as fragile. She looks tender in his arms. Small.
Angela accidentally ripped into the page as she flipped it and paused. It wasn't too deep- it was salvageable anyway. She furrowed her brows and let it fall soundlessly down with the rest.
That ugly mess was her boyfriend, so it was no wonder they kissed like couples do. Even if Jane had kissed better lips; a pair much softer, glossier, and fuller than anything that had ever been bred in Indiana.
Will sat down beside her. His lips were chapped and cracked and pressed together thinly. He watches them kiss too, silently at first.
"It's bullshit." He tells her, his voice flat. "All of it."
"They're dating," she reminds him noncommittally in a bored tone. "What did you expect?"
"Better," He snipped. She turned to him and spotted the hickeys decorating his neck. Probably because he removed the collar that had hidden them. He dipped it lower to show off the stretch of skin to her. "I excepted better, I guess." He let it fall back into place and scrunched up his brows. "She's not really my sister, you know."
Angela nodded, her eyes followed Mike's hand as it shakily slipped up her shirt. "I guessed so. Doesn't really matter though, does it?"
They were probably going to die.
Will said nothing. They silently watched them together, sharing their envy, before Angela grabbed Will's hand.
He startled and looked up at her with questioning eyes.
"Have you ever kissed a girl?" She asked, syrupy-sweet.
Will's mouth dropped, before it clicked shut to help him make a sour face. "No."
"We're probably going to die," she enticed and rubbed a finger along his wrist. "We all know it. Let's make sure you don't go out with any regrets."
He looked uncertain, like a spooked horse. His eyes danced between hers and the sight of the happy couple making out against brick.
"Just a kiss," he whispered as he watched Mike fondle Jane.
Angela smirked. "Just a kiss," she agreed.
Will hesitated still, so Angela inched closer to him, the magazine by her side sat forgotten. She was close enough to feel his breath on her face and stared down at his lips.
She doubted they would be as sweet as Jane's.
They twitched and she looked back up at his eyes to make sure he wasn't panicking just in time to see determination fill them before he pressed their mouths together.
She was right, of course.
Â
______________
Â
"Why did you kiss Will?" Jane asked in a pleading tone, sounding all too hurt.
"You saw?" Angela purred, smirk locked in place as she dragged their wagon of scrap metal and glass.
"Why?" Jane pressed insistently.
"Felt like it," she shrugged. She threw a look over her shoulder with her ponytail. "You were busy."
Jane said nothing.
Â
______________
Â
She steals Gargoyle a new coke.
They're somewhere between nowhere and the next interstate when they stop for a potty break. Angela isn't usually followed into the store so to go in with everyone usually means everyone has two or three things they want her to nab.
She sighed as Will pointed to a pack of giant chewy SweeTarts and smacked a pack of cows tails while Jane shook a bag of skittles from beside him with a box of Cap'n Crunch under her arm.
Will was eyeing energy drinks. He was already a little too fidgety for her liking so she thought to steal him a soda instead. That's when she remembers the coke. The new coke, anyway.
Gargoyle was pumping gas outside with Jonathan pressed against his back. It was like they truly didn't care if anyone saw them.
She shook her head in wonder before she grabbed the new coke for Gargoyle and a Dr. Pepper for Mike since he thought he was so fucking smart or something.
Jonathan likely wanted a large bag of chips. She scanned the shelves and grabbed a bag of Doritos.
She dropped them the second the screaming started.
She rushed back to the front and saw Jane choking a guy against a wall with her powers, her hand outstretched. The other people in the gas station were huddled together in fear, besides Will who was caught in a screaming match with Mike.
That's who she heard. She had thought it was Jane.
"Jane, what are you doing?!" She shouted as she searched for trouble. The lanky teenager she had against the wall did not look like a soldier. "Is he one of those Russians?"
Jane made a face before she dropped him. "No," she mumbled.
Angela watched him gasp and struggle to breathe again against the tiled floor. "Then why did you-?"
Jane looked at her with a burning, hurt expression.
Will finally stopped screaming at Mike long enough to acknowledge Angela.
"We can't let them go," he says, his voice hoarse with tears in his eyes and haunted expression on his face. "They've seen Jane and they'll tell people and the Russians will-"
"The Russians are already tailing us," Angela said in horror as she stared at the other people huddled in the floor. They were all staring at Jane like she was a monster. "They likely know where we are anyway."
Mike shook his head. Determination filled his eyes and his face was set. She let her jaw fall in disbelief.
"We have to," he assured her, like there truly was no other choice. "We have to save her." His eyes dug into her deeply. "We have to do anything it takes to save her."
Angela stared back at him silently before she walked away to grab her bag. She stuffed the Doritos inside, as well as everything else everyone wanted. Her brain felt switched off as she walked through the store on auto pilot.
She watched it burn on auto pilot too. All of the lost souls trapped inside screaming in tempo with the ringing in her ears.
Â
______________
Â
"I'm sorry, Angela." Jane whispered. Her voice sounded entirely too much like a guilty child's, like she may burst into tears at any moment.
Angela swallowed. What was there to say? Angela let them die too.
"Why did you have him against the wall, Jane?" She asked tiredly. "If he wasn't a Russian?"
Jane's eyes puddled. They looked like she had stolen them from a puppy. She pressed her face in closer to Angela's, her lips pressed to the corner of her's.
"He told his friend he wanted to drag you off," she whispered. "To the bathroom."
Angela closed her eyes. "Jane-"
"I didn't want the rest of them to die." Jane swore, her voice cracking.
"You can't use your powers whenever you want or we'll have to keep hurting people." Angela snapped.
Jane's lips trembled and she nodded. "I know, Angela. I'm sorry."
"On me either," Angela added angrily and turned over to face away from Jane.
Jane only pressed into her back and wrapped her arms around her. "I'm sorry." She repeated softly into her hair.
Angela scowled. There had been children in there, way smaller than them. Just gone.
Jane kissed her neck.
Angela tucked them both in under the blanket and accepts the fact that she will have a nightmare.
She had been having nightmares for awhile.
Â
______________
Â
Mike washes himself off whenever he can. He scrubs himself pink in rivers, public showers, and the rain.
She thinks he's trying to wash them off. The guilt of it. The bodies burnt on his call, or maybe Will's, she doesn't really know. They had been fighting about it. That's what the screaming was about.
Will hadn't said much since.
He barely eats. Neither does Mike really. She steals them bags of stuff anyway. Just in case. They don't talk to one another, but they silently sit side by side anyway. No one climbs into the back with her and Jane even though there's plenty of room.
Jonathan and Gargoyle fill the van with music and smoke, but not much else. Gargoyle had drank his new Coke while the bodies burnt, so now he was stuck with the leftover water bottle she had stolen for Jonathan and the Percocet she offers him when Jonathan isn't around.
Angela wished the air didn't feel so dead.
None of them had died in that fire and yet everyone was acting like they had been cremated with the building.
She makes sure she and Jane eats at the very least. She has to take care of Jane.
Jane can't take care of herself.
Â
______________
Â
They park the van near a beach. The sand is covered in jellyfish so they avoid it as they watch the crashing waves of the ocean from a distance.
Mike and Will stand with their shoulders pressed together and Angela watches them shyly slide their fingers into a hold.
She lays her head in Jane's lap and stared up at the stars instead.
Jonathan and Gargoyle are gone. They all know what they're up to.
She rubbed a comforting circle into Jane's skin.
"Maybe we won't have to do something like that ever again," she says hopefully.
Jane didn't respond. She merely kissed Angela's forehead.
Angela hoped that was her agreeing.
Â
______________
Â
Jane looked back at her nervously. "Are you sure you don't want to go?"
Angela rolled her eyes. "My head hurts, I'll be fine here anyway."
Another hike. Another treasure hunt. Another battle with tetanus.
Jane still looked unsure. "It's safer with us. When we stick together."
Angela groaned. "I'll be fine, Jane. Besides I'm staying inside the van."
Jane pouted, but nodded looked back at the others to see them waiting for her to start the hike. Mike looked especially tizzy and kept pacing back and forth.
Angela presses the heel of her foot against the burning metal of the van. It turned her skin pink quickly, but she kept it there.
Jane still stood in front of her, stalling. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt with a red face.
"Kisses, Jane." She winked, as a goodbye, before the sand exploded.
She was thrown back. Her head slapped against the metal padding of the van's wall. The ringing in her ears was sharp. Her vision blurry and smokey.
She coughed and flinched. Every movement she made hurt.
She crawled on shaky fingers to Jane. Fell out of the van and on top of her fallen body.
The girl was barely conscious and gasping in pain.
"Keep blinking for me, Jane!" She begs as her hands firmly grip her face. Half of it had gotten hit by the explosion. It was bloody and sick, but Angela refused to let her go.
She looked around, but she shouldn't have. The others were blown to bits. Literally. Blown to bits. Argyle had been split in half.
"I love you, Jane!" She screamed at her, like it was her fault. "I love you so much, please!"
God, please just let it be her face.
Don't take her from me.
Â
______________
Â
She waits for Jane to wake up. The steady rise and fall of her chest keeps Angela tethered in place, locked at her side.
She loves her. Even if that doesn't mean anything to anyone else.
She'll wait. She'll wait and then she'll run off with Jane and they can start all over.
Not California, but somewhere just as sunny.
She had went to Greece once. She really liked it. Jane would probably like it too. There were cuter boys there. She could-
She could-
Angela held Jane's body tighter to her.
Â
Blink blink
No reaction.
She sighs and no smoke comes out.
đź’–