Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Destroyer!Chris
Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
You keep a frantic pace away from Clyde's place. Well, it isn't his anymore. You realise then you didn't get a name. You didn't get much of anything. Oh god. That was horrible. You told your grandmother you didn't want to bother. That man doesn't need a pie.
You come to the end of the drive and turn down the country road. At least it's good exercise. You shrug to yourself and cringe as you try to shake off the humiliation. Just stop thinking about it.
'Pie.'
Ugh, could you not think of anything else to say? You mutter to yourself about how stupid you are. What are you going to tell your grandma? She'll have a thousand questions, as nosy as she is.
As you carry on, wiping your sweaty palms on your flowy linen pants, you hear a rumbling. It's the familiar noise of a farmer's truck. You sidle over on the shoulder to make way for the passerby. To your surprise and chagrin, they don't pass. Instead, they slow and keep a snailish pace with you.
"Hey," the man calls. You know it's the stranger, his voice is stamped in your head; 'pie'. His eyes too. His bold blue irises stormy like the ocean. "Hey, let me give you a ride. Must be quite a ways you came down here."
"It's okay," you refuse to look over, "I'm fine."
"It's not too much trouble. I'm headed into town for some supplies. Maybe you know where I can find some chain."
He revs the truck, idling then bouncing forward with each step you make. You ball your fists tight as you stomp on. Why won't he let you go hide in shame?
"It was real sweet to bring that pie," he says, "what kind was it? I couldn't tell."
"Rhubarb," you answer, still bearing down on the country road. "I can walk, sir."
"I... I hope I didn't scare you," he says.
You're silent. You stalk onward. Home, home, always so far away. His stick shift cranks and the truck stops. He leaves it running as the door pops open and his footsteps march over the pavement onto the gravel.
"Will you please stop?" He comes up behind you, "look, where I'm from, we keep things even. You brought me a pie, I'll give you a ride."
You just want him to leave you alone. He might go away quicker if you just let him drive you. Then again, you don't like the idea of being alone in a car with him.
"No thank you."
"Hmm," he as good as growls, "you're the first unfriendly face I've met around here."
"I'm not..." you let your voice trail off, "sorry sir, but it's not far."
"Then it's no big thing."
"I like to walk," you squeak.
"Damn stubborn," he comments as he stops.
You keep going as his footsteps trail away. You don't look back as his engine roars again. He falls back into the same pattern as before, lurching forward little by little with your steps. You want him to go away so badly. You have tears in your eyes.
You look across the field. The Berrys are nice people. You gauge the distance to the trees. There's an old path you haven't been along since Cassidy still lived at home, your old babysitter.
You veer suddenly and fall into a sprint across the expanse of tall grass. You must look ridiculous but you've already made such a fool of yourself that it hardly matters. You're not really thinking, you're panicking.
You hear his engine stop and grumble in place. You pump your arms as you race over the flat ground and disappear behind the old well and down towards the brush. Your lungs burn but you don't stop. You can't.
He wouldn't follow you, would he?
You don't stop until you have to. You gasp and gulp and peer over your shoulder into the trees. There's nothing but the moss and scrambling critters. You stumble and lean on a thick trunk.
Great. You really outdid yourself. That man must think you're insane. Maybe you are.
You catch your breath and set back on the path home. Too bad the village is so small. The only way you'll never run into him again is if you take on a self-imposed exile.
Or you could just become a hermit.
You come in sight of your grandma's house. She's on the porch, swaying in the bench swing as she crochets. You tramp up the steps as she glance over without turning her head.
“That was quick,” she comments. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing,” you lie.
“You're a mess,” she scowls at your pants, mud splattered up the chambray.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” you shrug. “Just took a shortcut.
“Mhmm, aren't you going to tell me about them?”
“Um,” you move to lean on the porch railing, “it was just some guy.”
“Some guy?” She wonders, needles clacking. “Young, old?”
“Er, I guess, pretty young…”
“So no wife? Single, hm,” she mulls.
“I think. I didn't ask.”
“Well, what's his name?”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” She narrows her eyes.
“I didn't… get it.”
“Ugh,” she frowns, “I should've gone myself but my hip. I'll have to call Lynette and see if she's heard anythinf else.”
“Sorry,” you pout.
“Well, you never were very social,” she tuts, “but I'd say you're more than old enough to learn. I'd like to have a great grandchild or two before I'm in the ground.”
“Grandma,” you exclaim, “don't talk like that.”
“You need me too. You need sense. You have no sense of urgency, dear. In a place like this, that's saying something.”
You deflate and throw your hands up, “sorry to disappoint… again.”
You push yourself off the railing and drag your feet towards the door.
“Oh don't be a child,” she reproaches.
You ignore her snipe, “what do you want for dinner?”
“Already in the oven,” she states tritely, “silly me, I thought you might invite the new neighbour to meet me, since I'm a but limited at the moment.”
“I… didn't think.”
She hums in disapproving agreement. You continue inside before she can make you feel any smaller. You know you're behind, you always have been. You're just as disappointed as she is.
