Corners Of His Lips Tug Upwards In A Small, Half - Hearted Smile ; One Gregory Doesn't Bother To Try

★ — Corners of his lips tug upwards in a small, half - hearted smile ; one Gregory doesn't bother to try and bite down, whether it be for lack of realizing he's smiling at all or for being too tired to try and keep himself from showing too much.

A breath that might be a laugh pushes past his lips, and he nods in agreement. He's not exactly sure where this junkyard is ( or if they'll be able to slip inside without technically trespassing ), but surely the rabbit's internal map wouldn't be wrong.

It's nice, having Bonnie around. Not that Freddy isn't great, because he is — but Freddy can also feel overbearing, like he's scrutinizing Gregory, looking for any little sign that the younger boy might not be as okay as he pretends to be. Bonnie, he's slowly realizing, won't dig the way Freddy seems to barely hold himself back from.

Surprised blink as the animatronic kneels down — hesitating a bit. A flash of independence in his eyes.

"M'not some little kid you've gotta keep an eye on — I can look after myself. And s'not like we're doing anything super dangerous. I'm fine."

continued from here // @braveburned .

'really?', is all gregory says at first, causing bonnie to chuckle, as he leans on the doorway with crossed arms, " now, would i lie ta' ya', little buddy? c'mon, what'cha say? " 🎸‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ it'd been a little while since he'd been found in the depths of bonnie -bowl, not quite dead, not quite alive. unable to even claw at inside of his makeshift coffin, knocking, to say: i'm still here! a silent scream, no one else could hear. that is, until he was finally found, pulled out of the ruble, and eventually fixed up, life breathed into him and begun anew. 🎸‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ while he didn't see everything that gregory saw that night, he could definitely understand not having the words to describe such things. 🎸‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ i mean, hell, bonnie himself didn't know how to express his own phantom pains, the ghosts that haunted him, how in the world could he expect a child too? so, for now, they'll express it a different way, (maybe this isn't an entirely unselfish act, it'd probably do himself some good, as well.) 🎸‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ 'yeah, okay, let's go smash stuff.', bonnie gives a gesture: hand-horns, and, " r, r, rock on! sounds like'a plan to me. " a snort, he pushes off the doorframe, hands settling his hips, " there's a little 'ol junkyard near here, according ta' my mapping system, and all. why don't we go look there? " 🎸‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ a beat, a sudden realization, " ...h, h, here, you can ride on my shoulders, if ya' want. don't wanna lose ya'. " he says, kneeling down carefully, giving the child a nod and smile. 🎸‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

just graduated with my masters degree :)

★ — Every moment of time that this interaction stretches onwards feels more precarious than the last — Gregory's heart racing, a heavy, thrumming staccato in his ears, against his ribcage, beating so furiously ( like the wings of a scared bird ) that it's nearly painful ; trapped, trapped, trapped.

This is the edge of a cliff. One wrong move, and everything comes crashing down. Gregory will fall with the rocks and rubble, only to be buried. An afterthought, not even begetting of a footnote in the list of tragedies. Even in his own timeline, there's no one looking for him, no one that cares enough to make sure nothing happens to him. Hell, he'd been living on the streets for a week before he'd stumbled into the pizzaplex, found himself out of his mind and out of his time. Here? There is no one who will care — no one to notice.

Avoiding eye contact ; it's too much, the realization, this horrific game of cat and mouse he's found himself trapped in. All at once he feels much too small, too much of a child overwhelmed and in over his head.

Then Mr. Afton starts laughing, low and quiet but he's so close that Gregory has no choice but to hear. It's enough to snap him out of his head and back to reality ; the sound akin to ice - water being forced through his veins. His eyes go wide.

" i think you don't have any parents. "

It's a familiar taunt, one he's heard dozens of times from anyone who thought he might make an easy target — bullies in the form of other children and adults. However many times he's heard it doesn't make it sting any less, still clouding his reason and rationality as he begins to kick and shift his weight under Afton's vice - like grip, a hand reaching up to claw at the hand holding him aloft.

"Why do you care?! It's none of your business! I'm here and I leave and nothing else matters! Put me down ——! Put me down or I'll start yelling and all the people out there will come in here to see what's wrong!"

𝚆𝙰𝚂𝙽'𝚃 𝙳𝙾𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰𝙽𝚈𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙾𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴. . . . perhaps he didn't have to. somewhere within his charming visage is something dark -- somehow simultaneously screaming out both his innocence &. his guilt. to a degree in which if you saw him in the right light, every explanation would fall into place. henry was arrested, first. next he'll be put through the ringer, though he doesn't yet realize this. the police's lack of evidence was shocking enough as it is. confidence not allowing any sort of worry to live outside general paranoia. if nobody found out, they couldn't prove it. end of discussion.

he would not let this little shit be the end of him. pounding, pulsating compulsions pushing blood against veins . . . hearing the rush in his ears, in the twitches of curled fingers . . .

knows better. you think you're safe to put one down &. off they go crying to the police, or their parents. even if this one didn't have parents around, there were many concerned patrons outside ripe for the picking. no . . . he wouldn't go down so easily. needed to be ensured of silence.

" -- quite amusing, yes. perhaps you have." more than you know, little one. more than you know.

his brows were still lowered in scrutiny, lip curled a bit with jumps in twitching fits. the desire to mangle the child's spine is so unbearably hard to control, but he must. cameras, business. it was a horrid combination. besides, it just wasn't right . . . none of it was right, &. it stank like shit &. suspicion.

yet explanation sends his lowered brow in an arch, grey eyes flickering back &. forth over their shared eye contact. however, all of a sudden, all at once . . . features come alive with manic amusement. curling smile like a bow, with dark chuckles slipping from between the cracks in his teeth. "surely . . ." he replies.

"would you like to know what i think? i think you don't have any parents -- whether that means they've croaked, or that they just don't care about you enough to stay sober for an iota of their pathetic lives. now, would i be right about that?" he asks, hoping to use this as a bargaining chip . . . yes, with an eleven year old.

“   am i the one who did this to you ??   ” ( maybe daycare!mollie accidentally hurt gregory while trying to catch him? :o )

❥     𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝟑𝟓𝟖/𝟐 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 ( 𝟏.𝟓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐗 )   (   𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟑   )    [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]   .

★ — Gregory winces ; physically pulling away from the concern in the animatronic's voice, the sudden movement eliciting a hiss through clenched teeth, flash of pain flickering across his features before he can catch himself. A careful distance is maintained between the two of them, Gregory half - turned in the opposite direction as if he's prepared to run at any moment.

"M'fine."

He's not — not incapacitated, but certainly in pain, with an arm extended across his chest so hand can flatten against the back of his opposite shoulder, where he had almost been grabbed before he'd managed to slip away ( a burst of adrenaline having carried him just enough farther forward ). But he speaks with a firmness that says he won't hear otherwise, he won't spend his time here being coddled by an animatronic meant to look after kids like him.

"Jus' a scratch. Not that bad." ( certainly not the worst that could have been dealt ). "I — I need to keep moving."

❛ We always think there's gonna be more time. ❜ @jeremangled :)

THE WALKING DEAD SEASON ONE SENTENCE STARTERS

★ — "Stop it. Shut— shut up."

Jeremy doesn't have to say the truth ; Gregory can feel it settle in the pit of his stomach with an absolute certainty. Overwhelming and unmistakeable, a violent whirlwind of emotions he's felt before threaten to knock him off his feet. His throat burns. His eyes burn. Grief, pity, anger, guilt. The guilt seeping in, filling every crack of his broken self.

There's a bone deep weariness to Jeremy that hadn't been present a few hours ago — the sort of resignation that only comes with the inevitable, especially when you take stupid risks like trying to smuggle a kid outside of the quarantine zone. Gregory's seen the look in his eyes before, reflected back at him only a month ago on the face of his best friend. Just as defeated.

How do you begin to mourn a person still standing in front of you?

There'd been some comfort, then, in thinking that maybe they'd go out together, united in losing their humanity until some poor soul came to put them out of their misery. Here, there's no comfort in companionship to be found.

Michael had made it out unscathed. Gregory was the only person in the world that would never know the real, true fear of turning.

( Marlene had called it a miracle, but he's starting to think it's a fucking curse. is this his life, now? forever haunted by the ghosts he has no choice but to leave behind, always seeing them reflected in the eyes of those his miracle cure wasn't fast enough to save? )

"You're infected, aren't you?"

shaking gregory at the dash write with me plot with me