caught up in a rush, it's killing you (hi everyone i'm finally building the confidence to post oc fic publicly) (also on ao3)
Next to him, Alfred feels “Frankenstein” press his gun into his hand.
It’s a ridiculous thought. Alfred’s not going to shoot Logan. No matter what has happened to them now, Logan has only helped Alfred so far. No matter who they may be waving their gun at now, Tyler would never forgive him if he killed them.
Speaking of-
“Logan, c’mon. There has to be another way to go about this-“ Tyler says. He’s stood between Alfred, Frankenstein, and Logan themself, whose gun is still raised, albeit in a shaky hand. Behind Logan, Alfred can barely see Theo, bloodied from battle and trying to claw himself off the floor where he lays. If anything were going right at this moment, they’d be helping him up. As it stands, Logan seems committed to making everything worse.
“I promise you, Tyler, this is the only way forward. The only thing you can do to change it is help me.” Logan accentuates their point by cocking their gun.
Tyler takes another step forward, the damn fool he is. “Logan, buddy, let’s be reasonable! You’re not going to shoot me-“
Alfred screams. Beside him, Frankenstein does little more than flinch. Tyler stumbles backwards, clutching his side where Logan’s bullet is now embedded. Frankenstein rushes into action, dragging Tyler back and helping him put pressure on the wound. When Alfred can bring himself to turn away from the sight of Tyler’s blood, he finds himself staring down the barrel of Logan’s gun.
Before he can think, he raises his own. Logan simply laughs.
“So that’s what it takes, huh? Now that your little lackey can’t take a hit, you’ll defend yourself?”
Alfred doesn’t try a rebuttal. He knows any words he could say would fall on deaf ears. He cocks the gun, hands shaking.
“Don’t try to intimidate me, Alfred.” Logan’s every word drips with condescension. “We both know you don’t have the nerve to kill me.”
They’re right. Alfred has never told a more transparent lie.
“Alfred, please-“ Tyler’s voice is pained behind him, and Frankenstein shushes any real attempts at pleading.
“Have you ever even held a gun before? All these heads mounted on walls, all of daddy’s money built on rifles and blood, and I doubt you’ve ever deigned to touch one yourself.”
As Logan speaks, Alfred finds it ever harder to focus. There’s a pushing at the back of his mind, that same feeling he’d had when Frankenstein had breached his brain before to force him to calm down.
This time, it’s a hell of a lot more complicated. Alfred feels a few things in sequence, remembers things he only has half a right to know. He remembers the amount of bullets left in the gun he holds--one. He remembers the impact of one of Logan’s own bullets in the wall during the earlier fight, the way they cursed when they missed. He feels a ringing in his ears, a sense of overwhelming pain, and just as quickly, he feels nothing at all. After a pause, he feels grogginess, his mind is sluggish, as though waking up from a long sleep.
Above all that, Alfred feels as though Frankenstein is attempting to communicate a plan.
As his mind slots back into now, Alfred’s eyes are drawn to Theo. He’s stood up now, blood dripping from his hairline as his wild eyes scan the room. Before anyone can react, he raises his trident and charges, driving it deep into Logan’s shoulders.
Logan screams and stumbles forward, dropping their gun in surprise. They drag Theo with them as he still dangles off the trident’s handle, unable to muster any more strength to pull it out or let go. As Logan heaves, hands on their knees, their gun clatters across the floor, just out of their reach.
Logan takes a deep breath and looks up at Alfred. Despite all logic, they laugh.
“What a golden opportunity. I’m defenseless, now. I think you know what you have to do, Alfred.”
Alfred’s finger rests on the trigger. His hands are still shaking badly enough that he can barely aim over their shoulder with any confidence.
“If you don’t kill me now, I will hunt you down for the rest of your life, I promise you that.” Logan’s words come through gritted teeth, but they otherwise show no signs of pain from the prongs still embedded in their skin. “I will hunt down you and every member of your miserable family. Every person who has ever heard that damn thing’s name. And when I finally kill the last one of you, I will take it to hell with me.”
Alfred wills his hands to stay still. For just a moment, he feels one more thing from Frankenstein in his mind. An overwhelming feeling of trust.
