Parental!Yandere Robber x Amnesia Teen!Reader
Hello! This is my first time ever doing this kind of stuff, any feedback is amazing! Enjoy! WARNINGS: Mentions of neglect, kidnapping, forceful drugging, depression, self-harm, asking someone to kill them, forced age regression ------------------------------ You wake up... In a hospital. You can't remember anything about what happened, maybe a fuzzy memory of someone whispering to you before it all went black and you can remember your name and last name... And your brother.
Your heart races, which makes the annoying machine beside you beep louder. The man beside you springs up from where he used to be sleeping. How did you not notice a man sitting beside you? Is he... Holding your hand?
He sees you awake, and his whole, tear-stained and all, face lights up. He immediately starts crying, which makes you stare at him, confused. He keeps crying as the doctor enters, smiling warmly like his faith in reality has been restored.
The man looks so happy and overjoyed that you're awake, you don't have the heart to slip your hand away, even if you're panicking. "Where are my parents?" You ask the doctor carefully. You avoid looking at the man who jumped back as if you struck him, and the doctor looks confused before understanding. You sigh as you hope he's on your side, but he turns to the man...
"It appears our scans were correct. Y/N has temporary amnesia and likely doesn't remember anything from the past few years." Try all the years, you can't remember a thing. The man looks heartbroken, but you shake your head. "No, I still remember things!" You insist. The doctor looks doubtful. "I'll prove it!"
You sit up, making the man coo worriedly, helping you up, and pretending you didn't flinch when he got close. You turn your arm towards the two. A harsh scar is on your right arm; you remember your brother slashing his beer bottle at you three years ago, before he left you and your mother alone. "This is from my brother, about three years ago. He threw a bottle at me, and it scarred. Check the records!" You beg, but the man sighs sadly and takes your hand again; he's too strong to pull out of this time.
"Honey, you got that from a bully at the park three years ago, we went and got ice cream afterwards... Do you really not remember?" The doctor looks at you two with sympathy.
"Some cases, especially of younger kids-" You were NOT a kid. "-Have hallucinations."
"They were not hallucinations!" You shout. Your brother could never just be a 'hallucination' what he did was real. So real. Too real. You pull out of the man's hand -he lets you, surprisingly- to rub the scar. It... It can't be from just a bully.
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The doctor gives your 'dad' -He refuses to tell you his real name- some medications and little speeches about your 'hallucinations' and how to handle them. They don't tell you anything other than 'an accident happened' and that you shouldn't worry about it. They also completely ignore your argument and defense about your parents.
Your real parents.
But you don't have a choice anymore.
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The car ride 'home' is a little awkward. But once the house comes into view, it's no longer quiet. "This is your house?!" You ask, exasperated. It was more of a manshion.
He laughs and gently pulls you down from sticking your head out the window. "Our home," He corrects. "But yes, we're just a little bit wealthy."
A little bit is an understatement.
A freaking butler comes outside to greet you two, the ma- your dad has a quick word with him, explaining your amnesia, and he looks sad. "I'm very sorry to hear that." He comments dryly. You decide you like him. He seems to like you too.
When you enter, two giant double staircases greet you. You gasp and look at every detail while your dad chases after you, sometimes laughing and showing you how the fridge can play music, and sometimes running as you almost get bitten by the llama in his backyard.
Even though your still very confused and terrifyed and just miss your mom, you're too distracted by your new home and new life to really question it. To question how he slyly asks things a father should know in a weird way. -"You always liked llamas, right?" "This is your favorite color, remember?" - And everytime you corrected him -"My favorite color is f/c"- He'd let out a sad sigh as if you were wrong and promise to 'fix it'.
He also kept hugging you a lot. Usually, when you make positive comments. He'd hug you so tight you thought your bones would snap in half and he'd lift you off the ground. You didn't like it as first, always jumping and yelling but now you kind of like it, it makes you feel safer. You haven't felt that in a long time.
And everything you 'owned' was childish. You had bright pink walls, children's books, a thousand plushies, cute outfits, and a music box. You liked all of it, but you were older now. A teenager. You never had this at hom-
"Is everything okay, baby?" Your dad interrupts as you stare at one of the plushies. "Yeah," You tell him without looking. You set the plushie down, still staring. "Just trying to adjust." You really wanted to yell and scream. You wanted to run out to find your real family. Yet... You thought about it all. Did you really want to fight for that reality? It makes more sense that you got amnesia, you try to remember that one whispered conversation before everything was gone... You think it was your dad. You remember his voice slightly.
Maybe you really were his kid.
You smile at your dad and he smiles right back, ruffling your hair and pulling you into another bear hug.
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After you showed any dislike in anything at home, your dad forced you on a shopping trip, not like you resisted much.
He ruffled your hair as you excitedly bounced in your seat. Sure, you were acting a bit young, but you were too happy to really care. And it did seem to make your dad happy.
The drive there, you kept talking and talking and your dad smiled the whole time, nodding along to everything you said. Somehow, along the way of fighting him every two minutes, you two became less awkward around each other.
When you got there, anything you showed any interest in, he bought. He made you try on everything, gushing over you everytime you stepped out. At first, you were a little annoyed, but then it became endearing.
Then, when you finished your clothing shopping, your dad suddenly took a turn down the toy aisle. "Dad?" He whipped around to face you. You didn't notice at the time, but it was the first time you called him 'dad' since the accident. He immediately smiled warmly, pretending he wasn't about to cry. "Yes, baby?"
"Why are we going down the toy aisle? I don't need toys." He does that one sigh when he thinks you're being ridiculous. "Pick your favorite ones, any of them." You're about to yell at him when you see a familar toy.
Back at ho- In your dream-like coma, you had this toy. It was weird how real your 'dream' was, but as your dad picks you for the hundredth time, you push the thought away. "Can I get this?" You ask, holding up the small toy. He smiles and hugs you tighter -somehow-. "Of course, sweetheart. Anything."
He puts it in the cart... And you. A teenager. You're riding the cart, a mountian of soft clothing surrounds you as you're surprised you even managed to fit in here, and that the cart is somehow still moving.
When he look up at your dad, he just smiles at you and pushes the cart faster, making you sway and laugh. He laughs along with you. Even though he's been laughing all day, you get the feeling he doesn't laugh that much. Maybe it's the wrinkles in his eyes.
When you get to check-out, the lady looks too tired to even do anything, maybe a short "hello" and "card or cash" but doesn't even look at you. You look around, a little bored, when you see a Missing Person's poster, your about to get a better look at the person's face, but your dad swiftly turns the cart before you can.
You look back at him, but for the first time today, he's not looking at you. His jaw is tense and he looks... Mad? Yet, when he looks down at you, you staring wide-eyed at him, he softens and kisses your head. Your weirded out.
During the car ride, you get sleepy. Your dad notices and sighs lovingly as you get yourself out of the car sluggishly. "Do you wanna go take a nap, sweetie?" He dotes in a fatherly tone.
"No, I'm okay." You try to argue but he just coos softly and picks you up. You squirm and kick, not used to be hauled around like when you were 5, but he just ignores it.
You get to your room and he lays you down, tucking you in and kissing your forehead.
You want to fight and stay up... But you just can't. Sleep would help, right?
The last thing you hear is your dad's bittersweet tone. "Sweet dreams. I won't let you hurt anymore, Y/N."
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A loud bang from your dad's old office alerts you from where you sit by yourself in your living room, TV playing some random show you don't like. You hear your mom upstairs giggling and a door shut, she's probably with that guy she found at the bar. Gross.
You realize it's up you to figure out what the weird noise was. You know it wasn't something you could ignore. You tip-toe in quietly, and a man with a mask is in your house. Broken glass surrounds him, his bag in one hand, and...
And a gun in the other. He has a gun.
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The second you wake up, your whole body jerks like it actually happened. That there was a man in your home. With a gun. And you were by yourself. Could that have been the 'accident' that your dad mentioned?
He enters your room with a tray full of breakfast food of every kind. You, trying to forget your odd dream, decide that those waffles might cure it.
While your eating, your dad smiles warmly at you, but when you finish, the dream lingers. Was it apart of your 'hallucanations' or a real memory? You look at your dad, which prompts him to worry because of the worried look.
"Is everything okay, dear? Was the food cold? too hot? Tell me what's wrong, baby." He tuts, but you blurt out your question. "Did a man ever break into our house?"
He freezes, he looks at you and something dark crosses his face before disappearing completely. "No, never. I would never let someone break into this house to hurt you." It seems like he's promising himself more than you. But then he wipes your cheek from the mess of syrup you have all over your face. You feel embarrassed but he just coos happily. "Did you have a bad dream?"
"I think...?" You respond, avoiding eye contact. "It felt really real."
"Dreams are like that." He responds gently.
You look at him this time, and his face is... Determined? It makes you drop the subject. Mainly out of fear.
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After a few weeks of getting a normal schedule and a normal relationship with your dad, he insists on taking you out to eat, fussing over how small you are. You were pretty skinny, mainly because your mom forgot to buy food but you didn't remember why.
During the drive, your content just looking outside as your dad is the one who talks the whole drive, but you hear something moving around the backseat. You wait until you turn and hear it again to look.
A spiral-ringed notebook with your name and handwriting on the front moved around the back-seat. It looks like an old diary, did you use to have one?
Your dad quickly notices you and tries to play it off. "Oh, don't worry about that, sweetheart." He tells you, but you don't look away. His voice hardens. "It's just an old notebook that you barely used."
He was lying, the poor book look used and messy, the cover was clearly used a little. And he held everything that you made with care, all your old coloring pages that reminded you of when your brother didn't hit people were framed. He was tense and nervous, trying to play it off.
You're about to reach for it, when you feel suddenly unsafe with this stranger that claims to be your dad. You remember his odd questions about what you liked and didn't like, could you really have changed that much?
You push the thoughts away, this had to be your dad. Would the doctor just hand you away? Would the butler not question the random kid? He... He had to be.
Doesn't matter he didn't know your favorite color. Or that he doesn't look like you. Or that he doesn't have any baby photos of you.
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You were now certain, that this man wasn't your dad.
While eating, you decided to test him.
"I'll have the shrimp." You tell the waitress. She smiles, you smile, your 'dad' smiles. Everything looks fine.
You hold your breath as she turns to him to get his order. He orders it freely, not a flinch, not a word, not a worry in the world.
Your deathly allegetic to shell-fish. But he didn't even stop you.
You try to push away the thoughts of 'how did this happen?' and focus on 'how do I escape?' You try to hide how your shaking hands as you ask to go to the bathroom.
"Yeah, sure." Your dad says, but he looks a little worried. Or is he scared? You somehow walk steadily enough to catch your waitress out of sight from your 'dad'
'Help me' you mouth to her, she looks scared but quickly nods. You go to the bathroom and try to think of a plan.
He's clearly crazy, but you don't know anything about him. You've warned the waitress, all you have to do is wait for the polic-
"Honey, we have to go." Your dad knocks on the bathroom door. You freeze. "B-But we never ate." You inwardly curse your scared voice. He hesitates before continuing.
"I know baby, I'm so sorry. But I have a very important meeting I have to go to."
Liar.
"Okay... Give me a minute..." You can't take long. As you finish, you realize he never gave you a phone, you can't call anyone. You'll have to sneak out.
As you leave, you finally manage to get his name on the bill at your table, he must've hurriedly paid for the drinks you two got, the signature says 'Mr Conner' in messy handwriting.
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The car ride home is deathly silent. Conner grips the steering wheel tightly and his face is dark.
The notebook is gone.
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When you get home, you basically lock yourself in your room as he disappears into his own office. The butler seems confused but ignores it, not his place. You and your dad pretend that nothing happened. Does he know that you know? You have to hope not...
After a few hours, you get hungry. You try to push it away, but he really spoiled you these last few weeks. You were starving. You creak open the door, and there's a disturbing silence.
You move around quietly, maybe you could escape now? Down the stairs, you hear the familar voice of Conner, but it's commanding and frustrated. You listen in without meaning to.
"You have to be more careful, Conner." The butler warns, his usual professional tone is gone. He sounds serious. You hold your breath.
"I know, I know!" Conner shouts, running a hand through his hair. "The waitress was about to the call police, she must've recogized her." Your heart starts beating faster.
"And the Missing Persons sign? And the notebook? You're slipping." The butler commented, ice cold. You slowly go down the stairs, Conner's back is to you and the butler is focused on him. You watch through the rails, terrified. You just need to sneak on by
"We need new locks to every door and window on this house. Quickly and discretly." Conner tells him. You're about to try to sneak past them when the butler locks eyes with you. Your blood runs cold. He whispers something and Conner whips around to see you.
You bolt upstairs, ignoring Conner shout after you, and lock yourself in your room, already starting to cry, when you hear his voice, muffled through the door.
"Baby... Please open the door, you know I won't hurt you." You freeze, beside the quiet sniffling.
"Open the door." Conner demands, using his commanding voice. You don't move, eyes locked on the floor.
You hear footsteps and assume -hope- he left. You take a breather, trying to stop crying, and move towards your door.
Sure you were on the 2nd floor and you had no way of getting down.
Better than staying here.
You get the hatch to the window open, you don't hear the door open at the same time. You get your leg out when someone grabs you from behind.
You scream and kick and do everything you can, fighting with everything, but it's useless. "Shh... Shh... Calm down... Deep breath..." A rag is pushed agaisnt your face and you slowly slip away, Conner hugs you agaisnt his chest.
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The man stares at you, both of you wear a horrified expression. However, shock hits you and you have a blank face while he looks you up and down. "Why are you by yourself, kid?"
Kid? You weren't a kid. But you also stopped listening, instead more interested on the gun in his hand, which he seemed to forget about. "My mom is upstairs, probably didn't hear you."
"That seems impossible, I was really loud." He points, sighing in frustration. For some reason, both of you are calm. He seems to realize what he was doing and points the gun at you.
"Where do you keep all your money, kid?" He waves the gun around. You shrug. "Don't know, maybe we don't have any. Do you think you could shoot me?"
The man looks very confused, which is reasonable. "What?"
"You heard me," You repeat, stepping closer, your mind yelling but you're just so tired... "shoot me."
He lowers his gun instead. "Uh... Is this... Is this an attempt at reverse psychology?"
You shake your head. "I'll follow you outside, if you don't want my mom to hear the gun shot. I don't have much else to really give in return."
"Is this a cry for help?"
You sigh, realizing this man won't shoot you. Your mom always hated guns, and you were too young to buy your own. You really wanted to just end it all, but you couldn't. And now here was the perfect chance.
"Please." You beg, holding out your arms to give him a clear shot to the chest or head. Instead, he looks at you. Really looks at you. Mainly at your scars and face. Then he approaches you. You don't move.
The gun connects with the back of your head, making you drop into unconsciousness and into the man's arms. He shushes you gently and quietly whispers to you. "I'm sorry that happened to you, kiddo." He kisses your head before you fully go out. "I promise that it'll never happen again."
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This could be a part 1, or it could be a one-shot, i don't really know. I'm not the best with tags or TW, so feel free to tell me anything. Any and all feedback would be happily accepted and thanks for reading!!!
