who's pretty now?

i don't want to die alone. indie billy russo the punisher loved by milo

[catwalksilhouette]

note to self:

headcanons about -- 

abuse in the group home

sinus issues as jigsaw

[mcgregor]

That’s the nature of the lives we chose, I guess.

Make tough decisions.

Live or die by it.

[catwalksilhouette]

ofhomeland‌

the bed bounces in retaliation to his unexpected onslaught , but she doesn’t jump in surprise . only continues to lay there , eyes forward and focused on the ceiling . even as he stood above her moment earlier , it doesn’t phase her . when his voice reaches her ears , dinah doesn’t move her head to look at him , she barely even reacts . just lays there in the stillness of the room . it was quiet in between his answers to her questions from before , but that noise was welcome . sometimes , too much silence could drive her positively mad , while too much sound had the same effect on her . his voice was a gentle balance , of course when it was calm like this . when he was yelling , she had to keep her lips pursed , and as much as she wanted to avert her gaze , she kept her eyes squarely on him . to intimidate ? yes , that seemed right . eye contact definitely wouldn’t relax or calm him , but it would intimidate him enough to get him to shut up , maybe . either that , or he would retaliate with a vicious bite like a blood-thirsty mongrel . 

more often than not , it was the former . he would see that his yelling and dramatics wasn’t getting to her , so he would back down lest he embarrass himself . at least that’s how she viewed it . he was also unstable , very much so , she was finally coming to terms with that fact . the fact that he couldn’t possibly know who she was , or even who he was anymore . sure , when he was going through therapy with krista dumont for that short period of time , she had helped him recover something , but it wasn’t anything of importance . he apparently couldn’t grasp much else from his own corrupted memory bank . like a virus to a computer , except the human brain couldn’t be reformatted like a computer . it could be scrambled and confused ( D A M A G E D ) but there was no reformatting and starting over . 

oh , if only . 

dinah would jump on that in a heartbeat . 

but alas , without doing some real harm , it simply wasn’t possible . 

finally , after being lost in thought for some time , dinah turns her head to look at the poor broken man beside her . such an odd thing to see . such a difference from what she’s used to in regards to him . 

“ i know how to play poker , ” she turns to her side then to face him better , elbow propped so that she can hold her head in her hand , “ if you’ll trust me in the fray , i’ll do it. nothing that says you can’t be there with me. don’t have to play , you’ll just be — ” she takes a moment to think , 

“ — my bodyguard . they can’t say no to that , yeah ? ”

she knows she’s asking a lot , and she’s almost positive he’ll tell her absolutely not , and that he needs her at her post . but it could be fun … except the fact that there was a slim chance that she would be recognized . 

shit.

now that was something she didn’t think about before opening her mouth . if that were to happen , she had no idea how she would talk her way out of that. criminals knew her face . knew her name . not every single criminal in new york city , but a good handful . 

“ or we could wait . stay in for the day . recuperate . i’m sure i could find something to distract your mind . ”

“you do?” he muses, tilting his head to gaze at her curiously. well, that made things a little easier now, didn’t it? normally, he wouldn’t trust anyone but himself in terms of being thrown to the wolves, but Dinah was and appeared determined. . . so why should he give her the chance? she was willing to prove herself, and although she had done so time and time again, this would be one of the biggest tests she’d been through. he couldn’t deny her the opportunity, and besides, he would be there for her and a couple other men of the team would be there for her as well should shit go south. “hmm.”

he mirrors her pose, shifting himself to prop his head up in his palm with his elbow rested on the bed. he’s about to agree, to let her go ahead and join the poker game, but her next words cause him pause. Billy tilts his head, staring her down with a squint before letting a small smile touch his features. 

“oh yeah, stay in for the day?” he shifts again to sit up, sitting cross-legged on the bed and stretching his arms out from having had to prop himself up. “and what could you possibly do to distract me? i don’t think i remember what relaxing feels like. i need to keep busy -- you know that.”

[ssweeneys]

[catwalksilhouette]

oh boy.. i haven’t been here in a hot minute. let’s get the show back on the road, shall we? yikes.

[catwalksilhouette]

@ofblackbirdsandmen | i’ll be home for Christmas

flowers: blue. specifically bluebells. a bouquet he had passed in the grocery store after having bought some treats for after dinner. eggnog and rum, even though he wasn’t sure she even liked eggnog. or rum. but it was a tradition he saw on the television, and Billy couldn’t remember ever having followed another tradition. he vaguely remembered the children’s home. he vaguely remembered having beer and whiskey with Frank. but he couldn’t remember anything else he’d done-- so this year was about starting new traditions. with his new family.

Krista had given him a brand new lease in life. at first, it had been extremely stressful. he was on the run. hiding from the government and police, and all manner of rival criminals. from the SKULL that haunts his dreams. but Krista made every stress and worry and fear worth it. she understood him. accepted him. loved him. 

Billy pauses at the front door with a smile before he finally comes in. kicking his shoes off at the door, the man makes his way into the kitchen, dropping off the paper bag from the grocers on the counter and using his newly freed hand to pull the hood of his sweater down. glancing over his little bouquet one last time, Billy makes his way toward the hall and back office, pausing in the doorway to lean against the frame as he watches Krista hum to herself and mill about whatever task she had set for herself.

they’d opened gifts that morning already-- he’d stolen her a beautiful new thin chained gold necklace and a couple rings to match. some clothes and socks and basic essentials. candies in the stocking and breakfast in bed, even if it was mediocre at best. but Billy wanted to try this year. he had reason to try. sighing softly, Billy shoves off the door frame and holds out his bouquet toward the woman with a nervous smirk curving his lips. “Merry Christmas, Krista.” he offers, leaning down to catch her mouth in a quick kiss.

[catwalksilhouette]

ofhomeland‌:

plotted starter for → @catwalksilhouette​

this was hard . it was nearly impossible . but somehow , she had been doing it for months now . working as an undercover cop ( on her own terms , of course . no one else knew about her little sting . ) in order to get closer to billy so that she could out him once and for all . but things didn’t go quite as planned . he was supposed to give away any hint that he really did know who she was , but instead , he acted as if she were just another one of his goons . no special treatment , no look in his eyes to tell her that deep down , he knew exactly who she was . 

well , that sure threw a spanner in her plan , and now she’s forced to continue her facade : the only female member of their little group. valhalla is what they called it . there was a time when she was mistaken for the entertainment , but before billy could pull his goon back , dinah dealt with it herself , breaking his nose and demanding he never touch her like that again lest he wants to lose an entire arm next time . that resulted in billy calling her up to his place upstairs . at first , she assumed she would be given a stern talking to , but instead he complimented her vigor , spirit , and surprising strength . he had asked questions such as where she learned it all , and she had to quickly make something up on the spot . 

because telling him about quantico wouldn’t have been very smart at all . sure , plans can fall through , so her being at quantico doesn’t immediately make her guilty , but it would definitely raise suspicion , and the last thing she needed was for billy to start snooping around . 

of course , as time went on , she started to receive more of a special treatment from russo himself , and he even began to show signs of over-protectiveness . he stopped letting her join them , and instead gave her tasks that challenged her intellect instead . she was the planner , the one to draw the maps and give the direction . the dispatcher . basically , without him saying it or giving her such a title , billy’s right hand man … 

and it felt oddly  -  -   -    - good . 

she held such a strong animosity still , but she felt important for once . needed . he would celebrate her , congratulate her on a job well done . never once a reprimand or questioning her . he trusted her fully , and her ability to lead them all in the right direction while they were in the field and she was back at their hideout behind a computer . 

was she even an undercover cop any more at this point ? she hadn’t even been to the station in weeks . she didn’t have a cellphone that anyone could reach her on anymore , no ; she wasn’t the special agent in charge anymore : she was a criminal , and it doesn’t truly hit her until she’s spending the night with billy in his small room upstairs . he’s counting his money , and she’s coming up with a new plan . 

willingly . 

“ tomorrow , there’s a raid happening at the cash stop . that’s off - limits . but there’s a poker game happening on the corner of place and 13th . ” she’s drawing a line with her finger , half talking to him and half talking to herself . “ big money , but it’s risky . small place . a lot of chances for it to go wrong . ” taking her focus off of the makeshift map , dinah pulls out her throwaway phone to scroll through a few text messages from unknown numbers : her contacts for jobs .

“ the coastguard is sending a small group to deliver some weapons at the harbor ? ” sometimes , there really wasn’t much of anything to do , but she knew how restless he got if they didn’t have something to do . they couldn’t just sit around all day . at night was different , since by that time , he was more-so winding down from the day’s events . 

“ any of those sound interesting ? that’s all i have in terms of work for tomorrow . ” dinah releases a sigh before pocketing the phone , shrugging , and falling on her back against the bed she was sitting on . 

          “ billy ? ”

Dinah was a ray of light in his dark world. someone seated at the head of his metaphorical table; a guest of honor, if only he knew. Dinah was a spit-fire, and he admired her strength and drive. it was something that needed to be protected, and it was something that he couldn’t let anyone else play around with. Dinah was his. whether in pet form, or something more... Billy hardly entertained the idea, personally. he just let it be. it seemed to work thus far.

they’d had a great job that early morning. good enough that Billy actually welcomed some time to himself without the stress and worry of looking out for his boys. not that they needed babysitting, but he was like a proud father in some ways-- he liked being that silent presence around his boys, but sometimes daddy just needed time to wind down too. time to wind down with mommy.

he draws his eyes from the wad of cash in his hands. he continues counting mentally, but he does allow his eyes to roam over the woman seated on his bed with a quick flick before turning his attention back to the money shifting rapidly through his fingers. his lips move with silent whispers; “fifty, one. fifty, two. fifty, three. fifty, four.” as he counts each bill and lays them on the table below. Dinah is a distraction-- she was distracting for the men, she was a good decoy on jobs, but worst of all she was a distraction for him. he was a man, after all. it would be stupid to deny the fact she was beautiful. it would be a lie to admit he wasn’t drawn to her in some sort of strange way.

he chalked it up to attraction, and that was all. that was all he was going to allow himself to believe.

instead of answering her directly, he simply nods, humming in acknowledgment of her words but not particularly listening. granted, he didn’t want to lose his count. he was on a roll, and he couldn’t lose count now, as far as he’d gone. he continues to count, nodding along and humming to each thing she said-- only being pulled from his thoughts when he finally hears his name. he holds his hand up, index finger extended just for a moment as he punches in the number with his free hand, into the calculator to his right. a smile graces his features then, at the amount on the screen. that was a lot of fucking money. 

dropping his hand, Billy clears his throat, smoothing a hand over his short hair before shoving his chair back and pushing himself to stand. now, there’s much to be said about Billy and how he used to be in comparison to how he was now. Billy Russo, before the accident, could never pass up a woman laying back against his bed. perhaps he’d seduce her. lay himself next to her, or boldly against her, and whisper sweet nothings into her ear and touch her with gentle finger tips. he’d make her melt beneath him before taking what he wanted. all with the notion that it was her idea, or pre-planned or that it was heading there anyway so they may as well do it now.

Billy Russo now? he couldn’t fathom the man he used to be. not because he was disgusted, or ashamed-- he was jealous. he wasn’t seductive anymore. he had a face not even his own mother could love - not that he’d had one to begin with, now that he thought about it - and he was... in all technicalities, inexperienced. he didn’t remember how to be seductive. he didn’t remember how his dick worked. how to kiss a woman. how to even give off signs that he was interested. and he was. interested. but Dinah seemed so out of reach. and professional. 

that was hard to find these days. he needed it-- would he jeopardize that? no.

he moves toward her, standing next to the bed with thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans. in all appearances he seems relaxed, but his muscles are tense, and he’s about ready to flee at any sudden movement. he feels strangely more like prey than he does predator tonight. a thrumming in his head and against his skull that makes him light headed and dizzy to the point of distraction. he settles for side-stepping, turning his body so he can flop down beside her on the bed with a heaved sigh. he stares at the low ceiling, arms lifting so he can clasp his hands behind his head. “if i remembered how to play poker, we could have weaseled our way in somehow.”                                                  deep, frustrated sigh.

“we got a lot of weapons too, but we could always use more. i guess.” it was getting more and more difficult to find jobs to do. New York was busy with crime, but there was only so much crime to be done, in all honesty. even criminals needed a day off. “what do you think we should do?” it’s a genuine question-- he values her opinion. 

[catwalksilhouette]

catch me if you can! i finally caved. you can find me on Sam and Malcolm tonight, but i’m also gonna be at work, so sporadic activity is very likely. i blame my fiance for this tbh

[catwalksilhouette]

soulstcne‌:

(     open     starter    ★     *     )

❝  i  think  it’s  time  we  had  a  little  TALK,  don’t  you?  ❞

“Nah,” he hums, shifting himself into a more comfortable position so he can pull the phone from his pocket. he doesn’t want to talk about it at all. he’d prefer to ignore the fact that he’d been caught in the midst of stuffing the last two cookies in his face when he was supposed to be dieting. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about at all, darlin’.” of course not, because angry birds was calling out to him instead of a reprimand.

[catwalksilhouette]

@ofblackbirdsandmen​ asked:  ‘ focus on my voice. ’      /    ACCEPTING !!

it’s not uncommon for Billy to be throwing a tantrum of sorts. they hadn’t quite created the bond yet that would come later, after months of therapy, so it was understandable that he lashed out in frustration and anxiety. his chest is heaving, very nearly whimpering with each exhale as he chokes back tears and the bile on his tongue; a threat of shouting at her once more, as he had a few times, and she took it in stride each time. he was acting out like a child would when being told no. “Fuck you. Don’t push me!”

focus on my voice. and he tries, he really does. despite how angry and frustrated and claustrophobic he is, he really does want to impress her. as she speaks to him, however, the more her words filter through the white noise in his head, the more he can finally BREATHE. . . it’s been getting easier, each time she talks him down... but he was still rendered entirely embarrassed every time he had a freak out this bad. “M’sorry,” he finally mumbles, lifting a hand to wipe under his eyes-- rid the evidence of the tears that had streamed down his cheeks during his tantrum. “M’fine. Thanks.”

[catwalksilhouette]

ofblackbirdsandmen‌

the moment she opens her door to him is the moment she realizes she has passed the point of no return. there was no kicking him out , there was no turning back time ; this was it. he was in her home , covered in blood , and surely this would be the first place authorities check. she was his therapist after all , the person he saw the most , and at that , she was sure most of the staff started to suspect something between them. 

and for good reason too.

hesitantly , krista takes his hand to hers , eyes only leaving him to make sure she wouldn’t run into anything while leading him to the bathroom. his first course of action would be to take a shower , wash that blood away ; DESTROY THE EVIDENCE.

wordlessly , krista opens the bathroom door and releases his hand , motioning for him to shower. whether he does or not is on him , but krista doesn’t want another moment to leave the hallway and to the open space of her office just around the corner. anxiety was bubbling in her gut ; she needed an open space to decompress while she waited for him. once he was done cleaning up , they would talk about what happened , or …

her phone is in her hand , fingers have already dialed 9-1-1. when did she do that? everything is a blur as she goes to press the call button , but the thought of billy enters her mind again. billy russo. the man she had been spending most of her time with , whether it was helping him flesh out his issues or having sex ; somewhere along the way , she fell for him. there was a certain and different kind of care she had for him , and it would almost feel like a betrayal on her part if she were to turn him in to the authorities even though she knew it would be for the best — for everyone involved , even billy.

the feeling of her hand on his own causes him to flinch slightly, but he’s so jacked up. adrenaline pumping and anxiety gnawing at his gut and causing him to remain flighty. he’s hesitant at first when she begins to walk, but their built relationship over the past year or so has caused him to develop not only love, but TRUST in her. he follows with heavy feet, body swaying along behind her as though he were fighting through thick air just in order to get to the bathroom.

once she releases his hand, Billy glances over his shoulder at her with the largest, most docile eyes he was probably capable of making. he was scared. he was alone and scared, and he needed her. watching her leave - in quite the hurry - Billy slides slowly down to lean against the side of the sink. what was he going to do? what should he do? RUN. it screamed in his head. over and over. RUN!

                                       but he trusted her.                                        and a shower sounds good right now.

finally reaching over to twist the tap, he peels the blood soaked clothes off his body lazily, still hazy and in a bit of a daze. he drops the clothes on the floor with a plop, uncaring about the rusted red that would undoubtedly stain Krista’s bathroom floor until scrubbed clean. he’d do it for her... later. if she let him stay. she had to let him stay. swallowing hard, Billy steps into the shower, head bowed and muscles twitching at the scalding water that beat down against them. he wanted it hot. he wanted the punishment of steam and heat and stuffy air. but the white noise of falling water and the pink tint to the water that washed off him and down the drain made him break. finally. after all this time.

it starts with sniffles, but very swiftly nose dives into silent sobs-- one hand bracing the wall and the other covering his mouth to make certain he makes no noise. and he does well, he thinks. he doesn’t let any sounds slip out aside from deep heaving breaths and the sniffling that he couldn’t avoid. he’s weak, and Krista has seen him weak in the past, but this was a vulnerability he hadn’t been able to express and share with the therapist. he stays still and hardly cleans himself, but at least the blood is gone and he feels better physically-- he stays at least a half hour and cries himself into exhaustion before finally stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist.

stepping out into the hallway, he grips the edge of the towel with one hand, the other rubbing at the short hairs on his head with anxiety. “Krista?” he calls out to her, browns darting about with concern when he doesn’t immediately find her. “Krista.” this time the name is punched out-- fear gripping him. maybe she would betray him too. maybe she would turn him in.. maybe she should. he’s about to call out again when he finally finds her in the larger space, eyes immediately dropping to the floor and shoulders up against his ears in tension and... shame?

“M’sorry.” he mumbles, pausing a short distance away from her. “M’really sorry.”

[catwalksilhouette]

eat my booty billy

[catwalksilhouette]

ofblackbirdsandmen‌

They had spent so much time together , done so much together , that when she heard Billy’s voice on the other side of the door , she expected , for a half second , to feel excitement ; to let him in without a moment’s hesitation. But she was dead wrong. Without the security of guards at her beck and call within a government owned building , Krista felt vulnerable. She felt alone. Unsafe. Was she really about to let a murderer into her home? She watched Billy take down three armed cops , more than likely killing them in the process. There was no hesitation on his part , no mercy. 

What if she said the wrong thing? Stepped out of line with him? He held no restraint when screaming in her face every other week during their therapy sessions ; what more would be do to her should she push too hard?

A shaky hand rests against the lock of the door before she turns the bolt and hesitantly — so very slowly — turns the knob and opens her door to a criminal. Blood , red and vibrant , screaming into her face , has drenched his shirt and all she can do is stare for what feels to her like an hour. There’s a hundred thousand things she wants to say to him , to ask him , and part of her wants to slam the door in his face and forget about his entire existence , but her concern and LOVE for him overrules any logic,

“ are you okay? ” She asks at last, “ are you hurt? ” No matter the answer given, Krista moves out of the way anyway to let him in.

The moment he hears the bolt of the door unlock, Billy stiffens. He’s ready to plow right through the door when he hears the knob turning as well, but he stays put. The boy is all but shivering in anticipation, eyes brimmed with tears the moment she swings the door open to look at him. It’s only a brief moment of ... something on her features. Billy knows he looks an absolute wreck. He killed a man, for Christ’s sake. He’s drenched in blood and tears and sweat. He can smell it on himself-- the iron and strong odor of day old sweat and fear. Because fear... it really did have a scent to it.

Billy’s eyes widen a little, head feeling foggy and heavy and dizzy all at the same time. He’s craving affection-- attention that isn’t negative. Stickball Guy really fucked him up, seeing him again. It probably did horrors for his recovery, instead of wonders - like facing your issues was supposed to be. It was supposed to aid in recovery, not set him back. But as Krista steps aside finally, her question on whether or not he’s alright or hurt falling on deaf ears, Billy pushes his way through. He’s panting, chest heaving. He hadn’t noticed before that he was panicking to a fault, but now that he knew he was safe for at least a little while, it was all beginning to creep up on him.

“ Nn-no. I mean, I’m fine. I’m not.. I’m nn-not hurt. I’m-- ” His stuttering and fevered panting is indication enough that he’s suffering through some sort of swallowed down anxiety attack. He hates that he’s vulnerable around Krista.. hates it, yet she’s the only one who understands him. The only one who knows what he needs. “ I didn’t have anywhere else to g-go. ”

[mcgregor]

Benjamin Greene + robe | for @rainsoakedsam

[devotedecay]

❥      NON - SEXUAL   ACTS   OF   DOMINANCE . 

feel free to edit or elaborate as you please .   ( add  ‘ reverse ‘  to your message if you’d like to see how my muse would perform the action ) . otherwise , send in one of these for my muse’s reaction to   …

[ lit ]  your muse lighting a cigarette , spliff , etc. for mine . 

[ order ]  your muse ordering for mine at a restaurant or bar .

[ guide ]  your muse putting a hand on mine’s back to lead them .

[ pay ]  your muse paying for mine at a store , bar , restaurant , etc . ( you can specify where or for what . )

[ open ]  your muse opening a door for mine .

[ dry ]  your muse drying mine off with a towel after a shower , bath , swimming , etc . 

[ instruct ]  your muse giving mine instructions / telling them what to do . 

[ groom ]  your muse adjusting mine’s appearance , such as straightening a tie , fixing their hair , or buttoning their shirt for them , etc . 

[ direct ]  your muse taking mine by the chin and telling them to look yours in the eye .

[ disagree ]  your muse sternly telling mine  ‘ no ‘ .

[ rest ]  your muse resting their arm over mine’s shoulder / s .

[ clean ]  your muse cleaning a smudge of something off mine’s cheek , forehead , etc .   feel free to specify what and how . 

[ answer ]  your muse answering a question meant for mine . 

[ coat ]   your muse holds mine’s coat out for them while they put it on .

[ pilot ]  your muse taking mine by the arm , hand , shoulder , etc . to lead them . 

[ stare ]  your muse staring mine down . 

[ placement ]  your muse telling mine to sit down .

[ teach ]  your muse taking control of mine’s hand , arm , hips , etc . to make sure they do something correctly .  

[ patience ]  your muse telling mine to be patient .

[ tears ]  your muse wiping away mine’s tears .

[ swat ]  your muse swatting mine’s hand away from something they’re not supposed to touch .  

[ jewelry  ]  your muse clasping a piece of jewelry for mine , such as a necklace , or earrings . 

[ enough ]  your muse commanding mine to stop talking . 

[ retrieve ]  your muse requesting or ordering mine to retrieve them something .

[ invite ]  your muse inviting mine to sit on their lap .

[ lean ]  your muse inviting mine to lean into their side while they’re sitting or laying together . 

[ calm ]   your muse telling mine to  ‘ just breathe ‘ .

[ scold ]  your muse scolding mine for something .

[ comfort ]  your muse pulling mine into a reassuring hug .

[ approval ]  your muse complimenting mine on a choice they’ve made .

[ beckon ]  your muse beckoning mine to them without speaking . 

[ laces ]  your muse lacing , tying , or zipping something for mine , such as shoes , a dress , or a jacket , etc .

[ stay ]  your muse telling mine to stay in the car . 

[ defend ]  your muse defending mine’s reputation , dignity , or safety for them . 

[ feed ]  your muse feeding mine something , feel free to specify what .

[ volume ]  your muse demanding mine speak louder .

[ read ]  your muse reading something to mine .

[ refill ]  your muse refilling mine’s glass for them . 

[ possessive ]  your muse resting their hand on mine’s leg or the small of their back while they’re sitting beside each other . 

[vhsmeme]

* love ♥ starters

‘ want me to stay? ’

‘ we’re almost home. ’

‘ you should be in bed. ’

‘ we can share it.’

‘ stay there. i’m coming to get you. ’

‘ shh, shh. you were dreaming. ’ 

‘ grab my hand. ’

‘ i’m just going to pick you up. ’

‘ everything okay? ’

‘ i won’t leave you behind. ’

‘ don’t worry. better out than in. ’

‘ who did that to you? ’ 

‘ sit down and rest. ’

‘ sweetie, i would never think that. ’

‘ come lay down in my lap. ’

‘ i know you think you’re all alone out there, but you’re not. ’

‘ call me when you get home. ’

‘ we should change those bandages. ’

‘ you’re safe here. ’

‘ honey… ’

‘ of course we love you. ’

‘ wait here. i’ll go run a bath for you. ’

‘ take my bed for tonight. ’

‘ i promise. ’ 

‘ you’re always welcome here. ’

‘ don’t talk like that. ’

‘ bad dream? ’

‘ talk to me. ’  

‘ it’s okay to cry. ’

‘ you need to be more careful.’

‘ we should hug this out. ’

‘ i worry about you. ’

‘ can i hold your hand? ’ 

‘ because i care about you. ’

‘ it made me think of you. ’ 

‘ take care of yourself. ’

‘ put your seatbelt on. ’ 

‘ where did you go? ’ 

‘ i didn’t mean to worry you. ’

‘ i made breakfast. ’

‘ sing something for me? ’

‘ open it and find out. ’

‘ how long have you been like this? ’

‘ you look nice. ’

‘ here, take my jacket. ’

‘ close your eyes and try to get some rest. ’

‘ focus on my voice. ’ 

‘ i meant every word. ’

‘ i was here all night. ’

‘ look both ways before you cross. ’

‘ you don’t have to talk. ’ 

‘ this is your favorite, right? ’

‘ you’ll feel better in the morning. ’

‘ you have a nice laugh. ’

‘ here, take my jacket. ’

‘ you could stay here. with me. ’

‘ we’ll figure it out together. ’

[catwalksilhouette]

ofblackbirdsandmen‌

way down we go / @catwalksilhouette

She knew it was going to happen , she just wasn’t expecting that. After everything they’ve shared and everything she had risked for him ; his pleasure , his comfort , his well being — she hadn’t expected him to show that much anger toward her , but then again , she did push. She didn’t allow the guards to get involved , and even when they did , they were no match for him.

Another thing she hadn’t expected. 

Of course , she knew all about his past and his skillset , but seeing it in action was far different than reading about it in a file. Perhaps the most unexpected part of the day was the gun against her back and the tight grip around her wrist. It was a god damn miracle none of the hospital staff saw that she was basically a hostage ; who knew what would have happened to Billy if anyone suspected anything as he forced her through the corridors until he reached the outside world.

Krista begged and pleaded for him , called out to him as he walked away from her. He wasn’t ready for this ; he was going to get hurt and there was nothing she could do to help him. Not now. Not with him in the world , on his own. Away from the safety of his little room in the hospital. She was aware , however , that being cooped up all day certainly wasn’t helping his psyche , but there was nothing else she could do. Every request to allow him supervised time outside was denied. Every request to allow him supervised time anywhere , even just the halls of the hospital , was denied. It isn’t like she didn’t try to help him in other ways. She wanted to see him thrive , but it seemed as though the rest of the world was against allowing that to truly happen.

Well , now the world would have to pay for that.

She wonders , while half assedly reading a book she didn’t even remember the title of , if she would ever see or hear from him again. After everything they went through together , it stung to think that he might not bother with her any longer. Though , she prepared herself for such an outcome. Based on Dinah’s words alone , about how Billy was faking it the entire time , Krista had to be open to the possibility. Besides , did she really need to harbor a FUGITIVE? That would make the both of them criminals.

Was she ready for that?

A knock at her apartment door swiftly kicks her out of the day dream , and she’s on her feet within seconds. Heart racing , hands wringing , she glides to the door , palms resting against the wood. Without bothering to look through the peephole , Krista instead offers a more aggressive than intended , “ hello? ”

Part of her is expecting Billy , and another part is hoping it is , while ANOTHER part is hoping with all hope that it isn’t.

It’s funny how the human brain works. A perfectly obvious hostage situation, when delegated with careful precision, was easily overlooked and ignored when presented to those who should have known what was going on in the first place. True to the fact that Madani had been in his room time and time and time and time again, laying false accusations that Billy did remember and was only faking his amnesia and mental disabilities, it was merely a stretch for the truth-- the truth being that Billy Russo was now a lost soul, trying to piece together everything as they came to him. In dreams. In nightmares. In flashbacks. Billy was still BILLY. What he remembered of himself was still not the ideal individual, but at least he knew who and what he was to a fault.

       He was a marine. He followed orders. He didn’t question. His loyalty was unwavering.

But he had to live his own life now, and figure out his own shit. Doctor Dumont didn’t understand. She didn’t understand! All she did was push and prod about his nightmares. Make him feel like a fucking child while doing arts and crafts and painting masks. As much as he adored being taken care of at times, he also extremely LOATHED it and this was one of those days where his head hurt too much for him to focus on the bigger picture, and his fight or flight response took off into fight first; flight second. He had downed guards. Made Dumont walk him out of the hospital with a gun against her back. Ripped his mask off for all the world to see: BILLY RUSSO. 

                                                                                  He was back, and he was angry.

All Billy managed to do, after his escape from the hospital, was make things worse for himself. His psyche couldn’t handle everything being thrown at him, especially after being locked up for over a half year and suddenly being thrust into the thick of it once more. Billy knew enough to get by, of course. He killed a man. He got drinks at the bar. He made his way to the ball pitch and he found himself waking from nightmares as he always had. He found Arthur Walsh-- he put an end to that part of his past. He wasn’t so pretty anymore. Not pretty enough to have a convicted sex offender take a second glance at him. The man who had tried to molest him didn’t even want him anymore. That was sad. In a sick and twisted way. But that was all behind him now-- and on him; a deep crimson. Soaking into his shirt. That’s two kills under his belt since his escape no less than 12 hours ago.

                                                               He’d take that information with a grain of salt.

It’s almost automatism, showing up to Krista Dumont’s apartment-- but he accepts this waking reality for what it is, and he finds himself anxious once more. Chest heaving. Body shivering. Skin slick with nervous sweat as he pounds on the woman’s apartment door. He prays then, under his breath. Prays she’ll let him in: but she’d do anything for him. When he hears the footsteps approaching, Billy rocks on his feet, eyes already brimming with tears. He pounds on the door once more when the footsteps fall silent, a tiny and choked sob catching in his throat to cause his voice strain: “ I-it. It’s me, ” he whines. “ It’s Billy. L-let me in. ”