Peter is poor, that's a fact. He found his costume in the garbage, getting a new backpack was a burden, and based on the weird stares he got, the subway wasn't screaming that he was privileged either. Tony is and always has been rich. Regardless of how terrible his father was, cold and calculating, at least he was stable. He didn't realize just how big their cultural gap was. He finds Peter at night in the kitchen. He's not eating, not drinking, not cooking or baking, just looking. His brown eyes dart around the cupboards, checking to see all the food there. He turned on the water, let it run for a few seconds, and turned it off. After that night, Tony kept the kitchen completely full. Peter still snuck down at night to check, but it wasn't as anxious and tense as before.
One time, Peter got hurt in the workshop. He cursed quietly, wrapping his hand in a rag. He wasn't in too much danger, but he definitely needed stitches. "Shit, you alright?" Tony grabbed his hand, poking and twisting, trying to estimate the damage. "Yeah, that's gonna need a few stitches. C'mon, let's get you to the hospital. There's one right down the road." "No! Do you know how much money that'd be, Mr. Stark? I'm fine, I can just do it at home." Tony was horrified at the thought of Peter sewing up his own torn flesh. "No! No, not happening! I'll pay—" "I can't ask you to do that—" "You're not asking, I'm offering! I'll make the money back by the time we get to the damn car."
Sometimes, Tony takes him to high-class places. Maybe for dinner, maybe for an errand. Peter's looking over his shoulder constantly, gripping his bag tight, hiding his hood. "Chill, kid, this isn't—" This isn't the rundowns. But Peter was from the rundowns. His fists clenched subconsciously at the thought of Peter getting mugged, someone trying to rob or shoot at him, steal his backpack that had a million holes in it, etc. "Just.. chill, okay?" Tony doesn't notice the looks Peter gets in those places, but Peter does. Peter notices the way they all think he's going to steal something. He notices the tight lips and smiles that don't reach their eyes. He notices the way they look afraid to touch him, like he carries a disease. "Can we.. Can I stay home next time?" Peter asks, his voice quiet. "Why? Don't wanna hang out with your," he clears his throat obnoxiously. "Bes' fwend?" Peter laughs, shaking his head. "Never do that again." The next time they go, he notices. Tony notices the looks, the tight lips and smiles that don't reach their eyes, the whispers and clutched pearls, and he isn't afraid to call them out for it.
Peter comes into the lab, eyes red, hands sweaty. "Mr. Stark?" he asks through a broken voice. "Yes, kid? What— Woah, what happened?" Peter fidgets with the envelope in his hand, sniffling. He takes a deep breath. The simple motion does nothing to nullify the shaky voice. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to, I swear. I'm not taking advantage of you or- or anything," Peter mumbles. Tony already knows what he's going to ask. Although, he didn't think the reason why would be so daunting. "I'll pay you back as soon as I can, but May can't pick up another shift, and I can't—" "Kid, calm down. What do you need money for and how much?" "Rent. I know it's a lot of money, so you don't have to, but I—" Tony cut him off. He stood, retrieving his wallet. He "And what? Let you and your aunt get evicted? No, it's fine. Just tell me how much it is." ".. Two thousand- five hundred." Tony nodded, trying to come off casual, not wanting to add guilt or pressure Peter at all. "Two... Seven... Ah! There we go, here." Peter bowed his head gratefully, thanking him. "And underoos?" Peter hummed. "Don't be afraid to ask for something like that again, alright? I don't want either of you on the streets, starving, or some other horror, okay?" "Okay, Mr. Stark. Thank you."
The Beef wasn't exactly in the best location in the city. Sure, there was decent footfall but there was also a turf war and they were on the clash line. In a way it was inevitable that someone would take one look and decide it was the kind of place that could be robbed.
"Hand over your money and nobody gets hurt."
Richie almost laughed until he looked up and saw a gun pointed at him. Palms up to placate, he raised his eyebrows.
"Well fuck me, you're serious. You sure you want to do this?" The safety clicked off and Richie cleared his throat. "Sure. I hope you like disappointment. Let me just-" a hand slowly lowered to the till. "-get you all...uh...fifty three dollars and, heh, sixty-nine cents."
The robber stared at him, incredulous. "That seriously all you got?"
"Post-covid, most people pay card, you know?"
"Don't shit me. Where's your safe?"
Of course Carmy had to stick his stupid nose into things in that very moment. He took in the scene with almost amusement until the gun was levelled at him. Then his face shuttered off, blank and tight.
"Yo. Why you threatening my cousin?" The robber's hand wavered as Carmy approached and stood firmly in front of the counter, shielding Richie with his own body. "Are you seriously trying to rob us?"
"Get me to your safe. Now!"
Leaning in, arms crossed over his chest and cocky, Carmy was almost gleeful to reply, "No."
Richie half expected the gun to go off. Instead, the robber spun it and pistol whipped Carmy who staggered under the blow, trying to catch himself on the counter. Rather than rally, he sank down into a boneless heap as he lost consciousness.
"Shit." Richie peerer over the counter. "Cuz?" No response. "Carmen? Cousin? You good?" In the silence he looked up at the robber. "The fuck you do that for? Did you kill him?!"
The robber turned and ran, leaving Richie to vault over the counter as he rushed to Carmy's side. Thank fuck he was breathing.
"Can I get some hands here!" He yelled, trusting someone, anyone, to come help. Sure enough, Tina appeared a moment later and was sent running for ice. She returned with that and Syd in tow.
"Who's the first aider here?"
To Syd's question Tina pointed at Carmy. Of course it had to be him.
"Some jagoff pistol whipped him. Don't think that's covered in any course." Richie pressed the ice to where Carmy had been struck and he could have cried in relief that it seemed to help bring him round. That relief didn't last long though because the groan turned into a squirm then it was a matter of trying to help flip Carmy so he didn't choke on his own puke. Once he seemed done, eyes blinking against the lights, Richie leaned over him to get a good look.
"Cousin?"
"Fuck." Maybe Carmy was better than expected, if he responded in such a Carmy-like way. Except his eyes were looking around, squinting but his breath hitched. "Wha-? Why? Mikey's gonna kill me."
Heart squeezing, Richie was saved from having to try and reply by Syd butting in.
"Hey Carmy. How you doing?"
Blinking hard, Carmy obviously had trouble focusing. But that was probably the least of their worries when the next question out of his mouth was, "Who the fuck are you?"
"Oookay." Syd leaned back. "Is that weird? Because that's weird to me."
Only expletives crossed Richie's mind. They needed Carmy comfortable and out of the public eye in order to figure out what was going on. Nodding to himself, he came up with a plan on the fly.
"Syd, close up. Carmen, I'm going to take you to the office. Tina, call Nat then help Syd."
"No!" The protest was near panicked from Carmy and he groaned, hand going to his head which was probably pounding. "He can't see me. He'll kill me. Said I was banned."
There were only so many times Richie's heart could be ripped from his chest. He couldn't handle telling Carmy the truth about Mikey. Couldn't bear the idea of seeing him learn the truth again. So he lied. Lied to protect them both.
"It's his day off. He'll never know. Don't you worry."
Scooping Carmy up, he groaned. For all appearances, his cousin sure was compact. Thankfully the route to the office had been cleared and Richie deposited him on the couch. At the telling groan, he put the trashcan next to Carmy for good measure.
"Thanks. How's Tiff?"
Just when Richie thought things couldn't get worse, they did. He needed to stop being such an optimist about how much lower the bar could get. Bending the truth by omission, he cleared his throat.
"Good. She's good. You?"
The hollow laugh from Carmy was answer enough but he deigned to add words. "Banned from the family restaurant no matter what I achieve. Mikey won't pick up the phone anymore. Sugar keeps telling me to call Mom. I live for the moment service finishes so I can go for a smoke. So yeah, great."
Talking was good, right? Richie had a vague recollection of not letting people sleep if they hit their head. Or was it when they took certain drugs? He'd be fucked if he could remember.
Thankfully the office door clicked open and Nat stepped in. Richie wished he hadn't been watching Carmy. Emotions flashed over his face as Nat's appearance triggered memories. Disbelief, horror, grief, misery all followed in quick succession. At least he had the presence of mind to grab the trashcan to hurl into. Not that there was much to come up other than a bit more pepto.
"Oh Carm." Nat perched gingerly on the couch and rubbed his back.
All of a sudden, Richie felt like he was intruding. This was a moment between siblings and he was nothing more than an interloper.
Looking up, Carmy's eyes were large and watery. Whether from throwing up or the onslaught of emotions at remembering Mikey's death was neither here nor there. However, it gave Richie the perfect view of mismatched pupils and he cursed under his breath. They needed to get Carmy to hospital.
Summary: Virgil comes back to find his apartment trashed and calls the police... but he didn't expect to have a history with the cop that arrived...
Pairing: post-romantic anxceit
Warnings: swearing, panic attacks, robbery.
Word count: 1,771
I'm late but this is my fic for the first day of @tss-anxceit-week Close & Distant, hope you like it!
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Virgil froze as he entered his apartment.
Clothes thrown on the floor.
Window shattered.
Drawers half open.
Everything's just a big mess.
This wasn't how he left it when he left for work… he… he'd been…
Robbed.
As the realization sank in, so did the panic. His breathing became hitched, his heart pounding in his chest like a caged animal trying to break loose, spots decorating his vision.
He shakily tried to take deep breaths as he reached for his phone and dialed 911.
He could barely get the words out through his panicked panting to explain what happened and tell them his address, and then they hang up.
And now he has to wait.
It felt like years passed when he finally heard the sirens and rushed out of the building to greet the cops.
But he definitely was not prepared to see an achingly familiar face coming out of the police car.
He barely had time to turn his back and pull his hood tight over his face before… he spotted him.
The universe must truly hate him.
Like, seriously? What are the odds, out of all the cops in the city… Why him?
"I take it you're the resident of the robbed apartment?" He said in his usual smooth voice.
Without turning to face him, Virgil nodded.
"Okay…" he said slowly, "I'm going to need your name and a list of everything that went missing."
Fuck, fuck, fuck… this is so bad…
Why him? Why him? Why HIM?
"Not much of a talker are you?" The teasing, followed by the familiar chuckle, and Virgil's sure his eyebrow is raised too. "That's too bad for you cause I can't help unless you cooperate. I promise I won't bite."
God he can hear his smirk behind the words… some things never change…
A warm hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, I know this is scary, but it's going to be okay, I'll do everything I can to help you. I just need you to work with me, alright?" And then… gentleness, so unexpected, so sweet… so needed.
With a long sigh, Virgil took off the hood and turned around to his ex's shocked face.
"Hey Janus…"
…
3 years ago
Virgil heaved a sigh as he dialed his boyfriend's number.
…and another when it went to voicemail for the 4th time.
He was sitting on the flat armrest of their couch, hugging his knees to his chest, staring at his phone as tears blurred his vision, 2 hours after Janus said he'll be home.
He's fine, he's fine, he's… he has to be fine…
Virgil knows Janus' job as a cop can have emergencies pop up that can delay him but… he can at least shoot him a quick text, he knows how easily Virgil's thoughts spiral.
He perks up when the door to their flat finally swings open to reveal his tired, but undoubtedly satisfied, boyfriend.
"You won't believe what happened!" Janus started as he closed the door behind him, "we got this random call that turned out to be just the clue we were missing and then… what's wrong?" Janus stopped, at last noticing Virgil's tear-stained face.
Virgil said nothing as he held up his phone to show the 4 missed calls, "I… I didn't know where you were… you didn't say anything I thought…" a choked sob cut him off and he wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand.
"Hey… I'm fine, see?" Janus said in that gentle tone of his that usually had Virgil melting… but not this time.
"A quick text is too much to ask? A small 'hey babe I'll be home late, don't stay up'? Is that really so hard? How am I supposed to know what's going on if you won't tell me?" Virgil hated how shaky his voice was right now but he was still recovering from the hours of imagining every worse-case scenario.
"Look, I'm sorry, there was so much going on I completely forgot I-"
Virgil held out his hand to stop him, "don't… just… don't, I can't do this anymore…"
Janus swallowed, voice wobbly as he asked, "what are you saying?"
Virgil stood up, not meeting Janus' eyes, "you clearly care more about your job than me… so lets spare you needing to choose… it's over, Janus, we're done." He turned his back to him, fresh tears streaming down his face as he walked out.
"Wait! That's not true!" Janus pleaded, grabbing his hand desperately, "please… give me another chance, I swear I'll do better!" His voice cracked.
Before he could lose his nerve, he shook free of Janus' grip, "you're out of chances…"
…
Now
"Virgil…"
Virgil couldn't read Janus' tone as he said his name, his voice full of emotion he couldn't place.
He wrecked a hand through his hair, "well… this is awkward…" he chuckled uncomfortably.
"You… you look good, I mean… you look like you're doing good… not that I don't think you look good good but um.." Janus mumbled then let out a sigh, "it's nice to see you." He finally said, giving him a small smile.
Virgil just shrugged, trying to ignore his pounding heart, "still a cop?" He half stated, half asked.
"What? This?" Janus gestured to his uniform, "nah, it's just a costume."
Virgil was surprised to find himself chuckling, making Janus smile at the sound. He always had a knack for making Virgil laugh.
Janus cleared his throat, "so um… you were robbed?"
The question brought Virgil back to the present and images of his trashed apartment flooded his mind.
His panic from earlier made a comeback as well. He was robbed. Someone snooped around his personal space, stole his things!
"Virgil? Hey, deep breaths okay? I promise it's not as bad as it seems just… breathe with me alright?" Janus took him by the shoulder, taking deep breaths to demonstrate and Virgil did his best to follow his lead…
Just like old times…
"There you go, now why don't you show me your place so me and my team can search the scene of the crime?" Janus said gently and Virgil nodded, anxiety still spiraling but at least he was breathing now.
The next few hours were a blur of Virgil watching the cops work and answering their questions and, before he knew it, it was just him and Janus again.
"Okay so, we'll check the security cameras to see if they got a glimpse of the robber and I'll contact your insurance so you'll get your money back for the TV they stole and the damadge to the apartment" Janus said, checking things off his list before closing his notebook and offering him a smile. "Everything's going to be okay."
Virgil breathed a sigh of relief, feeling himself finally calming down, "thanks." He said lamely.
"So um… how've you been? It's… been a while…" Janus asked hesitantly.
"Don't you have work to do?" He intended it as a genuin question but it came out snappier than he meant, probably reminding Janus the main reason they broke up.
Janus breathed out sharply, nodding, "okay, yeah, I deserved that."
There was an awkward pause after that that seemed to stretch for hours but was probably only a few minutes.
"I've… been good." Virgil said slowly, "got a pretty good gig at a nearby pet store, pays well enough and my boss is obnoxiously sweet." Virgil said with a slight smile as he remembered Patton's freckled face smiling at him, "I guess that makes sense, given the fact he literally owns a puppies and kittens business." Virgil added, before briefly looking at Janus.
"How about you?"
Janus chuckled nervously, toying with something familiar on his wrist that Virgil didn't notice up until now.
His voice was thick when he asked, "you're still wearing it?"
Janus' cheeks flushed a deep red as he looked down at what his hands were doing, playing with the bracelet Virgil made him for his birthday back when they were dating. "I… never took it off.." he admitted, the red on his cheeks deepening.
Virgil felt an ache in his chest, "I'm sor-"
"Don't," Janus shook his head, "you were right… I was a total jerk to you… I didn't have my priorities straight back then." He explained.
"And, to answer your question, I'm doing pretty well too. I'm pushing to get a promotion soon which would hopefully let me have more control over my hours so I can spend more time with Logan." Janus answered, his voice going soft on the name.
Virgil raised an eyebrow, "Logan? Who's that?"
Janus cleared his throat, "no one! Really!" He added when he saw Virgil's skeptic look.
Virgil chuckled, "if you say so Lover Boy." He laughed harder when Janus flushed once again at the nickname.
This was… this was going surprisingly well. Sure, it was a bit awkward at first but… he forgot how easily it felt to just.. Be, when he was with Janus, regardless of the nature of their connection.
And he was also relieved that he didn't seem to hold on to the same feelings he felt before towards Janus.
"I missed you." Virgil was surprised to find himself saying that, knowing it was true.
Janus flashed him his signature smirk, "couldn't stop thinking about me huh?"
Now it was Virgil's turn to blush, "you wish… Though I did have a thought or two about all those hoodies you stole from me."
Janus pretended to be offended, "you gave those to me!"
"I let you borrow them because you kept whining about how cold you were every time we were going out." Virgil corrected with a smirk of his own.
"Well sucks for you, I have no idea where they are." Janus insisted, tone still playful.
"Liar." Virgil snorted.
They smiled at each other when Janus' phone suddenly rang.
He shot Virgil a regretful look before going to the side and answering, coming back after a few minutes.
"Sorry but… I gotta go now." He said through a sigh.
Virgil shrugged, "that's fine… it was… nice to see you too, Jan."
The use of the familiar nickname seemed to light up Janus' face, "yeah… I'm glad I came here." He turned to leave.
"And hey, don't be a stranger, alright?" Virgil shot him a small smile when he turned around, his expression a mixture of relief and surprise.
"I won't… and, you have my number… I'll see you soon." And with that, he finally left.
They were never going to go back to the way they were… but maybe this was better, healthier…
🔪 “Hand it over. Cash, phone, your watch, all of it.”
Yuugi hadn't realized how late he'd ended up staying at the University library studying. He'd texted Joey he was running late and hurried to catch the next bus, but it wasn't quick enough. The route was high traffic and not known to have a lot of trouble but it seemed he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He kept still when he registered there was a blade against his neck--part of it rested against the leather collar he always wore. No. No he didn't want to give this coward anything! But there was nobody else around. Yuugi took a deep breath and gritted his teeth.
"Okay. Here." He slowly reached into his jacket pocket and held out the cash he had on him. Not much, since it had mostly been used to buy lunch that day.
Yuugi didn't wear a watch, and his phone was in the deckbox at his hip, though he hesitated reaching there. Who knew what this thief thought he would be doing.
“Get! The fuck! Down!” And when he does, Yuugi will hear heavy footsteps running, retreating, until they fade into the relative silence of the night.
It's a knee jerk reaction to that tone of voice and he's 14 again in the back-alley of the school, flinching and shutting his eyes. His body obeys the order and he drops to the ground. Yuugi keeps his head bowed and releases a shaky breath.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5...
He's not counting to ten though. No, he sits there as long as it takes to breath normally, think normally again. He tries not to think about what's just been taken from him. He needs to figure out what he's going to do next. No money for the bus, no phone to call anyone.
....
Home is too far to walk. Maybe not during the day, but right now it seems an eternity away. Honda lives close enough to the university and he pulls himself to his feet and starts running in that direction. The opposite direction of where he heard the thief run.
“Fine. Now get your ass down on the ground, shut your eyes, and count to ten. Call the cops and you’re dead.”
He wanted to say something back. Something with bite. Something, so that he wasn't taking this lying down. But he had nothing. His body was shaking like a leaf despite everything and he didn't know if it was fear or anger. Probably both.
The knife prods against his throat, not enough to break the skin but enough to scare him. “And the deck. Come on.”
No.
This bastard knows who he is.
There's ice in his veins, both from the demand, and the natural fear of the silent threat. Anything else on him could be replaced. To an extent, a lot of people would argue his deck could. But to him? Even with how much it had changed as the game evolved there are still some cards that been by his side too long to be replaceable.
But with a knife literally at his throat there is nothing he can do. Robotically, he flicks the catch open on the box and takes out both his deck and his phone, and holds them up.
Yuugi glares up at the thief, despite everything he's feeling. He'd say something, but the blade is pressing into his skin enough he doesn't want to risk more movement than he has to.
