Chapter Text
They weren't on the road for more than about 15 minutes before both of their stomachs growled, loud enough to cut through the silence and tension in the car. It had been a few hours since William had anything filling in his stomach besides gas station jerky and a few dozen Red Bulls to keep him awake, both remains littered around his tiny car. William glanced at the stranger. He doubted the guy had any money, unless he pan handled his way down from wherever the fuck he was from, and William had scrapped the bottle of the barrel paying for gas. So lunch was kinda outta the question unless he could score some quick cash.
When he ran away from home, his dumbass had spent anything he had in the first couple weeks of his escape on booze, drugs, and fast food. He’d been able to make it out so far by slowly selling whatever crap he owned, petty theft, and pity. But he had found himself in a situation he had faced too many times the last couple years; starvation. Usually he’d sleep it off, but he had a guest with him who’d probably gone a hell of alot longer without food than he had, judging by the thin cheekbones and the way his clothes hung off him. Not that he cared, he really didn't. But his grandma would smack his head if he so much as just put his elbows on the dinner table, so he knew that he had to feed his guest. It was his duty as a host.
“You hungry?”
“Eh?”
“I schaid, ‘are you hungry’?”
“Oh ams okay, reallies-!”
“Lischten dude, it’sch a yesch or no question. Are. You. Hungry?”
“...Ja.” the kid said meekly. William nodded approvingly.
“Cool. Schit will go alot easier if you juscht schay what you fucking mean. Cut it out with the polite crap.”
The kid just looked at him unsurely but nodded. William drove off the nearest exit into the city, looking around for something familiar.
“Dere’s a food place.” The kid pointed out after they circled another strip of stores, but William shook his head. It wasn't what he was looking for.
“I need to get usche schome money firscht. Lookin for a pawn schop.”
“What ams that, ‘pawn’?”
“Meansch Imma trade schomething for casch and buy usch some food.”
“Oh, you don'ts have to sells for me, I am grateful for just the ride-”
“Schut it, I'm already pulling up.” William interrupted, turning into a store huddled between a strip of small businesses. William turned the car off and turned around, getting his knees on the seat to look at what he had left in the backseat. It was a handful of comic books, his bass, some old clothes, and some CDs. All useless crap that he couldn't get much out of, but maybe just enough for a cheap burger.
He sorted through his CDs, Snakes and Barrels and Zazz Blazzmatazz had both dissolved a couple years before, so he should get a good price out of them. He also took all of the comics, since he’s read them forward and back, and shoved the kid out the way to get into the glove box. He wrapped a hand around the rosary but found himself hesitating
He remembered his grandmother holding the crucifix before pressing her thumb and forefinger to her forehead, chest, left shoulder, then right before she pressed them to her lips. It was a ritual she had done every day before she’d even start the car. William had witnessed it whenever he had gotten into her station wagon before school. She used to tell him that it was ‘the sign of the cross’, a prayer she’d make to God that’d keep her safe on their drive. It was around the seventh grade when he asked why God would let his father kill his mom, and she slapped him square on the lips for questioning ‘His decisions’. After that though, he never saw her doing the sign again, but the rosary still hung on the mirror.
William looked at the rosary in his hand, sterling silver Jesus staring at him, crown of thorns dripping blood down his eyes. He also felt betrayed.
“Aight, letsch go. I don't want you schtealing my car.” William muttered, slamming the glove box closed, the rosary held tight in his hand.
The kid frowned at him, “I can'ts even drive?”
“I said let'sch go.”
As William locked the doors on his way up the curb, the remains of his life in hand, he heard muttering behind him “I wouldn't steal dis piece of shits anyways.”
…..
“Scho, where are you from?”
“Norway.”
“Ischn’t that where Peter Pan lives?”
“Peter?- Oh! No, that’s Netherlands. I thoughts Americans edumacations was best in world, buts you don't knows geography?”
They were sitting outside of some burger stand near the pawn shop, a run down place with a weird name and a “available for rent” sign in the window. The place looked horrible and unhygienic, but a meal wasn’t more than eight dollars and it’s not like his standards were high either. At least he didn’t have to dig it out of the garbage can after close. He ordered them both a burger, fries, and got himself a cola and a strawberry milkshake for the kid, who was currently slurping it down like a lifeline.
“I dropped out of highschool when I got emancipated.”
“Emancipated?”
“It's not important.”
“Okie. Buts you learns geography in de primary school though-.”
“Scho, tell me more about Norway, or whatever.”
Something in the kid’s eyes burned out, and he looked down at his feet, digging his soles down in the concrete. He became tense, but tried to look indifferent at what William had asked him. He knew that look well. It's the same schtick he gave his teachers when they saw the angry red lines down his wrist. The same act when they asked him about the bruises on his arms and the bottle caps in his shoes. Something private and shameful, a secret only he was allowed to know.
“It's cold. Dats it, not much to say.”
William knew that was bullshit but decided he didn't care to know more.
“Okay fine then, how long have you been in the Schtatesch?”
The kid looked back up at him through his bangs, wrapping his fingers around his untouched burger. He took a large bite while he thought, cold blue eyes flitting back and forth as if flipping through his mind.
“Hmm, abouts a year now, not dat long. Ams nice here, very warm in the summer, snows alot in winter. I was in New York playings on the subway, at the Times Square, everyone was so nice. Gives me money and foods because they likes my playing. My old friends told me I should find someone in L.A to play for, gives me my big opportunity. Hows long you've lived in New Jersey?”
William didn't bother to finish chewing before speaking, “Not Jerschey, I’m from the Midwest.”
“Oh.. Whys you here then?”
“I dunno, juscht been driving.”
“You don'ts talk much, huh.”
“Look whosche fucking talking.”
The kid furrowed his brows and put his burger back down on his plate, narrowing his eyes. William continued eating, acting indifferent, but averted his eyes as he felt blue eyes digging into his skin. It felt stuffy and itchy, like an insect under a glass. He hated being looked at too often.
“I tolds you stuff about me at least, you amst said anyt’ing. Ams you kidnapping me?”
William scoffed, dropping his burger back down with a ‘smack’, ketchup and mustard smearing over their outdoor table as he leaned back in his seat.
“What reaschon would I have to kidnap a schitty kid like you? I'm juscht helping you outta the kindnessch of my heart causche I’m a good fucking perschon! But fuck me I guessch for being nice.”
Silence fell over both of them at William’s outburst, reaction too strong for what was presumably a joke. William had a tendency to be overly defensive, brought on by years of bullying both at home and school. He had a hard time biting his tongue down, not that it mattered, people found him off putting anyway. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little bad by the way the kid’s eyes seemed to fill with guilt. William scowled, and forced his pride down.
“Look, I’m schorry alright?”
“Noes, yous rights. You buys me food and am driving me, and I appreciates it. I don’ts know you, you don’t need to tell me anything.”
William blinked. He never heard an apology before, at least one that wasn’t backhanded. He looked at the kid up and down to catch a glimpse of indifference or sarcasm, but no. His eyes were remorseful, making direct eye contact with him, his face earnest. He was genuinely upset for breaking a boundary that William had set and was trying to apologize for it.
What the hell was up with this guy?
William cleared his throat, uncomfortable, “Whatever, look, are you done? You can finish in the car if you’re not but we gotta move.”
The kid looked down at his third of a burger left over and shoved the rest of it into his mouth, looking like a chipmunk, chewing with his mouth open, “Ja, ams done!”
William nodded, mildly impressed, and grabbed his trash, tossing it into the nearest trash bin and walking back towards the car. He heard footsteps run up besides him as he made it to the car and slid into the driver’s seat. The other door swung open and the kid slipped in, strawberry milkshake in hand.
“You wants some?” The kid asked, pointing the cup at William. The smell of artificial strawberry syrup hit his nose and he cringed, pushing the cup away.
“No offensche kid, but that’sch really fucking gay. I don’t know what goesch on in ‘Fagway’, or whatever, but you don't schare drinksch with other dudesch here.”
The kid shrugged, nursing the drink again, “My names Toki by de way.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“Ams just so you stop calling me ‘kid’. Ams not a kid, I turns 19 months ago.”
“What?”
William looked at the kid up and down. His skin was clear from any acne, not a hint of facial hair, and the big clothes made him look petite, though he was pretty tall. From a glance he couldn’t be older than 14.
“Nah, you’re lying!”
“Ja, seriously!”
“That’s bullshit.” William muttered, leaning towards the kid who leaned back into the window out of surprise. William pushed his hand under his bangs and lifted the hair out of his face to get a better look. He had dark circles under his eyes and the slightest hint of a mustache growing above his lip. It was hard to tell since the guy had tanned skin and light brown hair, it almost melded into the skin, but it was there. His jaw was full and strong, and William was surprised that the kid was actually more lean instead of thin.
Now that William had a better look at him with his hair out of his face, the guy was kinda handsome and masculine, which pissed him off a bit. They were both in a similar situation but the guy had the audacity to be attractive and nice. It was such bullshit that he hadn’t noticed before. The oversized clothes, meek behavior, and feminine features had thrown William off, but they were definitely about the same age. Go figure. Willam scowled, and pulled back, the guy (Toki or whatever) having a shaken expression, his cheeks tinted pink. William felt a hint of pride at knowing that the kid was a bit fearful of him, made him feel a semblance of holding a type of authority over him. Especially since he couldn’t hold his age over him apparently. Didn’t mean he couldn’t try though.
“Whatever, I’m still older, so technically you’re schtill the kid here.”
“By hows much?”
“... three years...”
Toki laughed, and the sound made William’s lip twitch slightly, a small grin taking over his face.
“Whatevers. I tells you mines name. What’s yours?”
William hesitated for a second, but figured it wouldn’t hurt. The bus station was 45 minutes away, after that, he’d never see this guy ever again.
“William Murderface. Just call me Murderface.”