Escape 2: the aftermath

ch:1

*early night December 15th*

Waylon and Eddie stared out at the buildings before them. It took them two days to get here and now, they were standing at the edge of the forest just before the town. Both were looking horrible, wounded and scarred like they went through the largest bar fight in history.

Waylon had a large scar going across his left eye and side of his face. Bullet holes decorated his left shoulder and right leg. Multiple gashes or cuts covering him. Blood staining his clothes in multiple areas, dirt attaching to all the sticky blood. Eddie looked no better covered in more blood, and not all of it was his.

Eddie had a massive gash curving up his entire back, crossing sloppily over his spine. Lesions were on one half of his face from the Walrider project, the smaller ones being scars from treatment before the riot. He had three bullet wounds, one on his left side and two on his right arm. Gashes covered his skin and one big one on his jaw that was now mostly healed.

Obviously the two couldn't just stroll into town, looking the way they were. It would gather attention, police would get involved, and Murkoff would notice.

"We need to find a place to stay." Eddie said.

"If we search at the edge of the town we might find an abandoned building." Waylon shivered. He was still soaking wet, the constant rain during their walk not helping either. Eddie shivered from the wet cold, but not as bad.

"Not good enough." Eddie said, walking towards the town. Waylon's heart started racing, he didn't want either of them entering the city. Now Eddie was just walking in to make himself home.

"Wait, where are you going?!" Waylon shivered, limping after him.

"To find a motel." Eddie said, walking ahead.

"You can't stay in a motel! We have no money, and look at us!" Waylon said, struggling to keep his voice down.

"I am not going to ask the front desk." Eddie said. Waylon's heart stopped, thinking Eddie was bent on killing the desk clerk to get a key.

"Youcan'tkillthemeither!" Waylon blurted out, latching onto Eddie's arm to stop him. Eddie just dragged his weight before stopping on his own.

"I am not going to. I did this a long time before Mount Massive." Eddie reassured, continuing forward. Waylon still held onto him, no longer attempting to restrain Eddie. Only holding onto him for more reassurance that nothing bad may happen.

"I should have more faith in Eddie. He probably got away with a lot before being caught. He would know what to do more then me, but he's still not right, and unpredictable. I don't know how he acts in a normal environment where his actions and thoughts are highly frowned upon." Waylon thought. They walked in the darkened areas of the buildings. The few homeless people that saw them disappeared in seconds.

They stayed hidden for an hour, coming from the shadows at the arrival of a broken down motel. Waylon examined the rotting but somehow still open building. The large sign that said motel was flickering. Waylon couldn't look at it long as the engine was aggravated. Cracks ran along the white, now tinted yellow, walls. Doors with dents, looking like they had been busted down before from a drug bust. Cracked parking lot and all the lights were broken or burnt out.

"Perfect." Eddie said, in a joyful tone, as he walked to the farthest room at the second row of doors. Waylon followed a few steps after, looking for any people near by. The only light available to help him see was from the yellow flickering "motel" sign. Eddie brought out his knife to pick the lock.

"Wait, what about alarms?" Waylon asked, stopping him.

"They cant afford them, no cameras either." Eddie said, the clicking sound of the door unlocking after. Waylon was amazed at how quickly he picked the lock.

"Wow, are locks that easy to pick?" Waylon asked.

"Only run down motels, houses I find are the hardest." Eddie said, opening the door. Waylon's awed feeling turned to disturbed.

"How many locks has Eddie picked, and what houses may have been invaded?" Waylon thought, Following Eddie inside. Eddie closed the door and made sure the blinds were closed before turning on the light. The room was as Waylon expected. Old looking beds, a crappy small television with old rabbit ear antennas, lamps that looked broken and a small bathroom. He sat on the bed, wincing in pain as everything ached.

"Take off your clothes." Eddie commanded.

"What, why?!" Waylon questioned, his paranoia rising.

"You're wet and cold. You need to get out of those clothes and let them dry." Eddie said. Waylon was about to reply that he was wet too, but shut his mouth at the thought of Eddie stripping down to dry with him.

"I am in a building now, I can dry off with my clothes on." Waylon said, hoping Eddie would let him keep his clothes, but doubted it.

"You'll dry faster without them. They also need to be cleaned." Eddie said. Waylon grumbled to himself, knowing he wouldn't win this argument.

"What about you? Your clothes are just as bad." Waylon said with a little anger. His anger died down at what he just said, the thought of Eddie stripping returned.

"I'll clean mine later. I am going out." Eddie said, heading for the door.

"What where?!" Waylon asked, going to stand. His body forced him to stop, having him sit back down with a hiss of pain.

"Getting supplies, don't worry about it." Eddie said, opening the door.

"What if someone finds me?!" Waylon asked, concerned about what may happen, and hoping it would stop Eddie from leaving.

"Only cleaners come, and at motels like this they only come once a month. Maybe every six months if the motel is in really poor condition." Eddie said as he left. The explanation eased some of Waylon's worries and raised others.

He sighed, starting to strip off his clothes. First was his shirt that he removed from painfully sticking to his shredded back. Turns out all that "gravel" at the bottom of the river he repeatedly smashed against was broken glass. The few glass jars of jerky in his bag had shattered when he first hit the riverbed. The next time he hit the floor, the broken shards shredded through the thin bag fabric. All the jerky was ruined, the backpack useless, and Eddie had to pick out glass imbedded into Waylon's back.

When it was off he examined it. Seeing the entire back side was stained with blood and in shredded thin strips. He sighed, wondering if this shirt was even wearable anymore. He painfully stood up to limp to the bathroom mirror. He turned around, examining his damaged back in the mirror. Lots of blood, scrapes, and long thin gashes. It reminded him of a curtain shredded by a cat clawing down it.

"A shower would help this." he said. Might as well take it while it was available to him. He stripped the rest of his bloody damaged clothes, getting into a hot shower. After he finished showering, his body felt so much healthier. Month's worth of dirt, blood, and scabs washed away. He looked at his back, seeing the long thin cuts more clearly.

They were still bleeding out in small amounts. He grabbed an unopened roll of bathroom paper, ripping it open. dabbing pieces of it on the cuts to encourage healing. After drying and dabbing them, the bleeding stopped. He examined the rest of his body, sighing angrily at the larger wounds that were bleeding onto the bathroom tiles. Mainly his gun shot wounds being the culprit.

Those would need more then toilet paper to heal them. He dried the blood away from the floor and his wound, only having more gush out to replace it. He grabbed his shirt and ripped a few shreds off, making a patch and wrap for the hole on his leg. The one on his shoulder he wouldn't be able to wrap.

He left his clothes in the bathroom, wrapping himself with a blanket on the bed. He laid down on his stomach, his back being too delicate at the moment. He closed his eyes at the relaxing fabric. The beds were horrible, but after sleeping on hospital gurneys with restrains or in vents for the past few months, any normal bed in any condition was heaven to Waylon.

He awoke from his sleep, startled by the door opening. He didn't know when he fell asleep or for how long. Seeing Eddie at the door calmed his nerves, but they spiked again when Eddie carried in a large first aid kit and a ragged backpack. Waylon got up, ignoring the pain in his body, keeping himself tightly wrapped in the blankets.

"Where did you get that?" Waylon asked.

"A truck driver stopped at a gas station. When he left his truck I grabbed them. I broke a vending machine too, if you're hungry." Eddie said, throwing the backpack onto the bed next to Waylon. He recognized the sound of crinkling bags when the backpack landed. The sound stirred his starving stomach, having him quickly unzip the bag and grab the first bag of chips he saw.

Eddie set down the fist aid box on the bed, opening it. Waylon scarfed down the bag of chips before Eddie could open the kit. He threw the empty bag of chips aside to examine the contents. The box was large, being a two-by-two foot wide box. He grabbed a large bottle of alcohol, gauze, and a large wrapping of stitching wire with needle.

The first thing he dealt with were the bullet wounds. He sanitized and bandaged any other wounds that might have needed it. After he was fixed up, he gestured for Eddie to sit by him. Eddie needed that large gash stitched closed and sanitized. Eddie sat next to him, removing his dingy shirt and vest for Waylon to see better.

Waylon ignored the gash at first, his attention wandering over the layered scars. Many of them were old, some almost completely faded away. He felt a large one on his shoulder blade, being careful when Eddie's skin tensed at the touch. The largest one he saw, he recognized, was the one left after his impalement.

It was a deep, perfectly round scar just shy of being at his spine. An inch closer and Eddie wouldn't have been saved by Murkoff or anyone else. Waylon stopped himself from staring, grabbing the alcohol nearby and a gauze to dab the wound. Waylon cleaned it and stitched it, being proud of his neat work. He told Eddie to turn around so he could give attention to the gun shots in his side and arms. Eddie obeyed, holding out his arm to Waylon.

Waylon caught himself staring again at the layers of scars in front of him. Seeing another familiar impalement scar on his side. He poured alcohol onto the wounds, dabbing them dry of the pink fluid. He stitched a few closed, not wrapping them, assuming Eddie was going to take a shower.

Waylon was stitching the last gash on Eddie's arm. He had to get close causing him to lean part of his back on Eddie's chest. Waylon was paying close attention to his work, ignoring Eddie when he started kissing his back. Eventually the kissing was becoming distracting as Eddie pulled him closer.

"Hold still." Waylon said, holding Eddie's arm so he could finish the stitching. It was becoming harder to do as Eddie kissed more of his back. moving him to be closer to his chest.

"Stop." Waylon said, still struggling to stitch Eddie's arm while he moved. Eddie finally did stop when Waylon was on his lap. Waylon ignored where he was seated, just trying to focus. Eddie started kissing the side of his neck. The affection had Waylon pause, this act of kissing was lasting longer then usual.

He was tempted to slow his work, maybe even undoing the stitches he just worked on. He didn't though, finishing off the last stitch and cutting off the excess wire. When Waylon tried to put the supplies away, he was a bit annoyed by Eddie's hold on him. He refused to let Waylon leave his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist.

When the final supply was put away, the box snapping shut, Eddie put a light hand on Waylon's neck. he pulled his head back and kissed Waylon, gently holding him there. Waylon didn't argue, happily kissing back. He felt the nervousness in his stomach, the feeling growing as Eddie slowly laid him on the bed. Waylon broke the kiss, panting, to speak.

"Are you going to shower?" Waylon asked, receiving kisses on his neck. half of him wishing Eddie would stop to go, the other half against it.

"Later." Eddie said, kissing Waylon's lips again. Waylon closed his eyes with a moan, relaxing into the bed. His eyes opened when Eddie broke the kiss to unwrap the blanket from him. Waylon watched his only covering be pulled away, frozen. His mind was racing on whether to yank it back or let him be uncovered.

He was only uncovered for a second to have Eddie get under. He covered the blanket over both of them, kissing Waylon. He broke the kiss again as he fully laid on top of him. He kissed along Waylon's jaw and neck, wedging himself between Waylon's legs. He thrusted his hips forward to remove the remaining space between there hips. The sensation made Waylon gasp, grabbing the sheets.

The reaction had Eddie chuckle as he kissed along Waylon's collar bone. The vibrations going into his chest stirred some thrill in Waylon. His blood was pumping now with his thoughts racing on how to react. He was worried that Eddie might turn aggressive, excited at what he was doing. He was nervous at what they were about to do, and now wondering if they should even do it. He knew that once they started there was no turning back.

His mind went blank as Eddie grinded between his legs. He gripped the sheets tightly in his hands, moaning as Eddie kissed at his neck. The grinding slowed down, but got stronger. Waylon wrapped his arms around Eddie, clawing at his back. he accidentally scratched the fresh stitches on his back. Eddie didn't let out a hiss or flinched away in pain. He repaid the pain with a bite to Waylon's shoulder.

It hurt Waylon, having him wince and be more careful not to grab the stitches. The pleasure soon replaced the pain. The bite mark did not break the skin, but it would leave a bruise. Feeling that grinding was no good anymore, Eddie reached down between them to unbuckle his pants. Waylon helped with the removal of his belt, throwing it off the bed.

Eddie removed his pants, throwing them to the side. Now the only thing being between the two was a pair of, now tight, boxers. Waylon moaned again as Eddie rubbed himself between his legs. The hard on he had feeling more noticeable with less layers. Waylon tilted his head back in pleasure, being rubbed against while Eddie removed his boxers. He was going to close his eyes till he saw the boxers go to the ground. He stared at the black fabric on the ground, his blood pumping faster.

"Ready, darling?" Eddie asked happily, kissing at Waylon's jaw while he shifted Waylon's hips. Waylon nodded after the question, not even thinking of what he was just asked. Eddie happily nipped at his neck, kissing it as he slowly pressed into Waylon.

Waylon winced, gritting his teeth as he was entered. At least Eddie was going slow with his body. When Eddie was fully inside, Waylon took a gasp of air. Having been unknowingly holding his breath the entire time. Eddie pulled out slowly, giving Waylon a mix of pain and pleasure. After a few slow pumps, Eddie quickened his pace.

Waylon moaned, entering a pleasured haze. He kissed Eddie, clawing at his back again. He accidentally caught the stitches again, receiving another bite on his skin. Waylon winced, kissing him when he released. Eddie kissed down to his neck, biting again as Waylon scratched into the wound. This one hurt a bit more and when Waylon was kissed, he tasted a little blood.

Waylon decided it was best to move his hands away from Eddies back. The stitches being in the middle would get caught a lot and Waylon didn't want layers of bites. Eddie grabbed his hands by there wrists, holding them into the mat. He moved forward, getting a better angle at Waylon when he pumped in.

*The next morning

Waylon opened his eyes, annoyed at the light beaming into the dark room. He glared at the light that beamed under the curtains. He turned his head away from facing the window. The body above him shifted at the movement, holding Waylon tighter in its hold.

Waylon smiled slightly at Eddie sleeping above him. He didn't mind the extra weight on top of him, it felt a little comforting. What he did mind was the way Eddie was holding him. He had wrapped his arms around Waylon in an awkward way that kept Waylon from moving.

It wasn't something done accidentally, the hold was meant to keep Waylon from moving out from under him. The trapping position wasn't uncomfortable to Waylon, but it did look like it for Eddie. The hold wasn't that tight either, just positioned in the right manor.

There were a few times Waylon tested the hold. Anytime he did manage to slip out, Eddie would change his hold to trap him again. It was some kind of compulsion he felt to keep Waylon trapped. Waylon was sure he could easily escape if he wanted to. A simple yank upward of an arm could break or dislocate something. It was a sign that the hold wasn't meant to be aggressive toward whoever was in it. An aggressive hold would have been much more constricting and uncomfortable for the prisoner.

Waylon shifted a little to reach his hand up and gently rub Eddies shoulder. The position he was in, lying stomach down, made it slightly difficult. The soreness in his shoulders and neck area from the movement reminded him of the multiple bites he received. He had caught the stitches on Eddie a lot, mainly the large ones on his back.

His hand gently rubbed down Eddie's back, stopping when Eddie flinched his shoulder. He accidentally touched the stitches again. Eddie took a deep breath as he awakened, shifting his hold a bit.

"Sorry." Waylon apologized, gently rubbing his shoulder. Eddie nuzzled into his neck, kissing it. He closed his eyes at the affection, opening them so he could ask a question he wanted to ask since late last night.

"Why do you do this?" Waylon asked, referring to the awkward trap hold.

"Hm, do what?" Eddie asked, not opening his eyes.

"This." Waylon said, tapping his fingers on Eddie's arm.

"To keep you here. To keep you safe." Eddie said, kissing Waylon's neck again.

"Have you always done this?" Waylon asked.

"Only one other time." Eddie said.

Waylon was interested to learn more, but left it there. He started to move out from underneath Eddie, who let out an annoyed groan, tightening his hold to keep Waylon.

"Where are you going?" Eddie questioned.

"I need to take another shower." Waylon said, rubbing Eddie's arm. Eddie huffed, removing his hold. Waylon chuckled, getting out from underneath him. When he was off the bed he grabbed one of the extra bed blankets to wrap himself. Even though they had sex, he still didn't want to walk naked around him. Eddie stayed relaxing in the bed, his eyes closed contently.

thank you for reading and please comment. =]

fans: are you doing a sequil?

me: no

*6 days later* scum bag Steve hat.

... my ... my hand slipped across the keyboard.

in all seriousness i did say i wasint going to do it, BUT i wanted to continue writing. i felt lost on what to do when it was finished. its like watching a tv marathon of a show and not knowing what to do when done.

soooo, i started a sequel. iam still very iffy on this. i dont have much for it, so updates will probably be very slow. i also have no idea of how many chapters there may be, or if ill even be able to finish it.

Guest: unlike normal people, Eddies marriage is more based on large events then ceremony's. before, if Waylon went through the surgery and survive that would have been the marriage event.

instead of that, this time, there escape was the marriage. so in there minds, they're married.

BlueKanto: lol yeah. XD

sashimilove: :3

ButterflySong: miles is dead in this timeline and the walrider contained. if you read my fake documents and notes, you would know. *cry's tears, since no one pays attention to them*

Waylon still suffers the engine and murkoff doesint release patients easily. =]

semenosuke: i hope so to. :3

l0velyfe: thank you. :3

shortfangirl: evil laugh. :3

UnaSirens: awesome, glad you like them. :3