Chapter 1: Alamosa
Notes:
Finally finished this fic wooo. Would like to say thanks to my friend who basically inspired this idea by watching Hannibal and talking to me about it lmao. I maybe struggled a bit with the tags, but I've mostly focused on Waylon and the relationships in this fic.
Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
(Also English isn't my first language so may be some errors)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
12/7/13
He has shown me the truth, he has. The bloodstained, cruel truth that I've had to carve into my heart with a dirty knife. There's no place for me in this world any longer, there's no "normal" that I can go back to. Dropping my kids off at school with a smile before I drive to my desk job; kissing my wife as I return home and have dinner with my family; falling into our soft bed, worry-less and awaiting the new day … This can never be my life again, not after what happened.
12/6/13
"Are you nervous, darling?" Eddie had asked as Alamosa was mere minutes away, the road drawing them nearer and nearer. Waylon's lips remained as still as his body, and his eyes only stared into the scenery ahead.
"Hm?" Waylon heard him softly hum as he felt a hand caress his thigh.
"Of course I'm nervous! We're driving into this town to kill three fucking men!" Waylon exclaimed as he shoved off Eddie's hand.
"Three bad men, my dear. Worry not, for I will take care of it. You just observe as the light leaves their wicked eyes. It will be okay, I promise," Eddie reassured him.
Eddie spared Waylon a glance before his eyes were forced back to the road, a little smile lifting the corners of his lips. God, he was having the time of his life, wasn't he? Shit, why shouldn't he though? When Waylon escaped the hellhole that was Mount Massive Asylum, he stabbed Eddie in the back. He had promised him that they would leave together, but instead, when they neared the exit, he hit him in his head and ran out the doors without him. He was sure that the asylum had been Eddie's grave — he was so sure that he would never again see him … But here they were, together at last.
Eddie hadn't only survived the asylum, he had changed a bit as well. His mind was no longer a thing of the far past, in fact, he was more "sane" than he had ever been. Eddie had thanked Waylon for it; if it wasn't for him he would've probably never thought about leaving the asylum, his brain was too scrambled to make sense of the situation himself. He just knew that he had to "follow the man who ran away with his heart".
After this, by whatever favor his mad, hell-bound soul had earned, Eddie had managed to find his way back to himself. He had crafted his face anew and started a new life; one in pursuit of his love. The pills helped too, of course. How Eddie had managed to build himself up so quickly was beyond Waylon. He knew his friend Fabian had greatly helped him, but he didn't know enough.
This newfound life was quite literal also, as both Eddie and Waylon were officially dead. Eddie had supposedly perished in the asylum, mad as a hatter, and Waylon had "committed suicide" a mere two months after his escape, November 14th. Murkoff was as happy as they could be despite the trouble, at least their whistleblower hadn't escaped them.
It wasn't a mercy on Lisa and the boys to stage his death with them out of the loop, but mercy was an unreachable peak in this situation. Part of Waylon couldn't believe that he let Eddie talk him into this, he couldn't believe that he even talked to him in the first place! But he had gotten too close, too tempted by something vague deep inside of him with Eddie, and neither he nor his family would be safe so long as "Waylon Park" lived. The goons of Murkoff already hunted him, so it just needed to be set up.
Eddie had planned this all through and through. What could be more tempting to a man who's lost everything, than revenge? Revenge; on all those who had partaken in this and who still worked for Murkoff — on all who allowed themselves to be complacent when Waylon's act of compassion and bravery unmade his very own life! Waylon wasn't blind to this; he knew what Eddie had done, and he knew that the second he grabbed his hand there would be no going back, ever.
So here they were, entering the city limits of Alamosa on December 6th together, their eyes seeing red as they hungered for vengeance. The three targets were high standing Murkoff employees who had been involved in Mount Massive Asylum. They had retreated to Alamosa to lay low. For weeks Eddie and Waylon had prepared for this; brushing up whatever skills they needed to get away with murder. Their allies were greatly helpful too.
"Ah, what a charming little abode this is!" Eddie excitedly said as he strolled into their room, "A nice, spacey bed just for the two of us. A clean bathroom that welcomes us with a tub fit for two. Aaand a little TV we can watch our favorite shows on! We must procure a souvenir of this city, in memory of what will surely be a wonderful adventure!"
Waylon took a slight look around before he sat down on the bed next to Eddie, his enthusiasm as bright as a cave.
"Join me for a bath, won't you?" Eddie purred, his hand clinging onto Waylon's thigh. It was a pair of begging eyes that Waylon peered into, and those ocean blue eyes changed something inside of him every time he looked at them. Every look was so.. substantial. He could feel himself growing used to Eddie, and not just to his eyes, but to his hand on Waylon's thigh, to the look of his exposed body, and to the feel of his skin.
Waylon answered not with words. He only raised his body and walked with him to the bathroom.
"How long are you going to chastise yourself, Waylon?" Eddie asked after their clothes had been stripped off their bodies and reduced to piles on the floor. Slowly, he moved closer to him, placing his hands gently on his chest. They danced circles around his upper body, before Eddie dropped to his knees.
"Let me please you, my love."
"No," Waylon replied, his tone flat like the endless plains of Alamosa.
Eddie protested not, instead, he only got up and sunk into the warm water of the tub along with his love. They rested in each their end, and their eyes didn't break the contact they had so determinedly initiated. A moment passed before Eddie slid towards Waylon and nestled himself in his embrace.
"I'll be here, my darling, when you grow tired and weary of denying yourself your desires. And when you do, oh, I will worship your body for the entirety of the night. You will be sated," he said, before his lips pressed down on the skin of Waylon's neck, softly planting a few kisses on it, "And so will I."
Waylon locked eyes with Eddie, and Eddie moved his lips to Waylon's; lovingly colliding with them.
The few times they had bathed or showered together it had always ended with the same thing. Eddie could never keep it down; his cock grew to pulsate with desire. Yet again, Waylon found himself leaning into the counter while Eddie's available hand gripped Waylon's neck. Eddie's other hand was busy satisfying himself.
Waylon didn't mind this, it was within the boundaries he had set. He simply didn't want Eddie to touch him, to please him. Part of Waylon still clung to his past, unable to re-conciliate with what he had done and with what he was. To think that he could find himself attracted to men, to think that he just ran away like this with a violent serial killer — it was madness! Waylon knew what he had done though; he thought about it everyday, and yet.. this part of him still wanted to bury it all. It wanted to think that this was all just a bad dream...
For every angel, there is always a demon though. Waylon didn't only feel on shame and misery; another part of him desired this more than anything. His hands found themselves cradling Eddie's butt as Eddie touched himself, but he wanted more than this, so much more. He wanted all of Eddie for himself; he wanted his body, his emotions, his madness — he wanted every single piece that built the man who stood in front of him. Was it love? Could it ever be love? These questions never ceased to churn in his mind, they plagued him like a pest.
Eddie was as cuddly in bed as with any other thing. It didn't matter too much if he was the big spoon or the small spoon though, he just wanted to be close to Waylon. Today he had chosen to be the big one, and Waylon wondered if it was because of what was going to happen. Maybe it wasn't, but it was the thought of it that mattered, for it still comforted Waylon.
"Eddie?" Waylon had asked a moment after they settled into the comfortable bed together, their room nearly pitch dark. Only a glimmer of light shone underneath the red curtains.
"Yes, darling?" His soft voice replied.
"Will you keep me safe?… Protect me?"
"Of course I will, forever. There's nothing I won't do for you. Nothing at all I won't do to keep you safe and happy," he said, his arms squeezing Waylon just a bit tighter.
Bloody vengeance wasn't the only thing that Eddie's mind had imagined Waylon could be in need of; the entirety of Saturday and the beginning of Sunday would be spent enjoying the city of Alamosa. A stroll through the historic downtown, a peek at the UFO Watchtower, a meeting with gators, and an evening at the Great Sand Dunes were all things awaiting the two. Waylon found it strange; one day they were going to act like normal people as they explored the city like tourists, and the next they were going to take the lives of three people, should it all go according to plan. But the strangeness eventually gave way for another feeling — joy.
At the dunes, it was perhaps the happiest Waylon had been since the incident. Everything was so… vast, so expansive. He and Eddie were just two little streaks in it, but living, nonetheless. They got to experience this world, they got to earn a place in it, even if Waylon was no longer sure what his was. None of it mattered in that moment though, the comfort of the evening stars were all he needed.
Eddie's eyes stared at him with such fervor the entire night, this was the life.
A quiet night passed, the stars going back into hiding to let the sun shine on the earth again. Sunday was the day, the day that Waylon might do something he can never take back, the day he might never be the same again. Their plan worked smoothly, and in a dark house on the outskirts of the city of Alamosa, 3 men found themselves tied to rusty old chairs and gagged with dirty fabric in the black of the night.
"Mmpff… mmpf!!" It was only muffled sounds that escaped one of the men in front of Waylon and Eddie. He wasn't allowed to be understood.
"Don't worry, darling, you'll get a chance to speak soon," Eddie said, his sinister tone dripping with acid. A clean, white cloth was in his hands, along with a sharp kitchen knife that was itching to be used. Eddie was in his element here; an already bold man now felt like he stood at the top of the earth.
Waylon skulked in the dark corner, the men restricted from movement weren't the only ones whose hearts leapt inside their chests. He didn't know what to do with himself, he only peered at the three people who'd soon be going limp in front of him. Droplets of sweat ran down their foreheads, traveling past their raised brows and their panicked eyes. One tried to wriggle his way out, one looked around with desperation, and one simply stared into the wooden floor. The wriggler was the first to have his mouth freed, and then the others followed.
"There! Now, you could try and scream very loudly, but I think you'll find your tongues quickly… dispatched of if you do, even if no one can hear your pleas from here," Eddie taunted them.
"What do you want!? We'll give you anything!" One of them cried out. Albert Moore was his name..
A low chuckle only left the person in the middle, Kendall Wright.. "Isn't it obvious? They want to kill us," he angrily stated, "Did we hurt someone you loved? Did we ruin your lives?" He asked with a mocking tongue.
"Kendall! Shut up!" Caleb Monroe quietly hissed.
"Taunt us all you want Kendall! We're not the ones tied to chairs," Eddie replied.
"No, you're just the ones pissing off a company with-"
"Assets that will skin us alive and hang us to dry, yes, yes," Eddie gestured, "And then what? Will you laugh from your grave? From your hollowed bones? Honestly, the three of you can hardly be mad that we've rounded you up like cattle. Here you sit, flaunting how terrible and how gruesome the company that you work for is. How they will commit crimes of the highest degree and then shove it under the carpet!" He said, waving his hand in the air.
"P-please… I have a family," Albert stuttered. It was all it took to strike a nerve within Waylon.
"How dare you?" The shrouded figure in the corner uttered, walking into the light. "I had a family! I had a life! One that I sacrificed because I believed in humanity, because I couldn't stand by the horrors and the pain that you inflicted on others! You are cowards, all of you!" Waylon hissed, feeling the rage burn through his heart.
"Waylon Park? But you were killed by-"
Caleb stopped in his track, not finishing his revealing sentence.
"Ah, see, even more reasons! And yes, the poor soul was very alike Waylon, wasn't he?" Eddie said, quieting the three.
"Ough, but I'm getting tired of all this jibber-jabbering, aren't you?" Eddie asked with an inquisitive look, waving around the knife as he spoke.
Eddie saved Kendall for last, savoring the moment when Kendall would be left all alone without any of the others to be scared on behalf of him. Tears had streamed down Albert's face as Eddie jammed the knife into his heart, ceasing its beating forever. Caleb's tongue had begged for Eddie to stop — to spare him — even when blood dripped from his mouth and choked him.
"Do you want to join me, Waylon?" Eddie softly asked as the knife prepared to taste Kendall's flesh, "I can push, you only need to hold your hand around the handle, around mine."
Waylon didn't know what to say, didn't know what do to. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. It was like a spider's venom had paralyzed his body.
"It's alright, darling. You will get your chance still," he said, his soothing tone a vast contrast to the taunting one he used with the men.
His first three stabs into the shaking body of Kendall were non-lethal, just as he intended. Kendall screamed as pain drowned his senses, his yelps ringing in Waylon's ears. His panicked lungs hungered for air and his body clenched with the piercing pain. Blood dripped to the floor, tainting the planks. As high-pitched groans left him through gritted teeth, Eddie plunged the bloodstained knife into his right eye. Finally, his damaged body went limp like the others, life no longer inhabiting it.
Waylon would've said it was gruesome, but he hardly felt a thing. This was nothing compared to what he had seen at the asylum, and that scared him.
"Written something interesting, darling?" Eddie asked Waylon as he caught him peering at a page of the notebook he had bought on Saturday. It was well past midnight as they drove towards Pueblo, the day having flipped from Sunday to Monday.
"I did… the first that I wrote, only 1-2 days ago. Funny… it seems so long ago."
"Don't worry, my love, you will readjust to all this."
"Will I!? I can't believe I let you talk me into this, I can't believe what you and Murkoff have turned me into!" Waylon nearly growled.
"This was your own decision, Waylon. You made your choice."
"Really? You're gonna tell me that you and Murkoff are completely innocent in all this!?"
"No, I'm not, but to come with me — to watch me silence those men — it was still your decision, it's what you've made out of your life now."
Waylon found his breath quickening as these words seeped into the crevices of his brain. Fuck! A rising bulb of panic moved inside of him, igniting everything it touched.
"Waylon, dear, are you okay?"
Waylon couldn't reply — it felt like all the air was leaving him and like something was stitching up his throat. Eddie quickly pulled the car over to the side; Waylon jumped out of it the first chance he got. He sunk to his knees as he felt the freezing winter air invade his lungs and graze his skin.
"AARGHHH!" Waylon screamed as loud as he could into the cold, distant world.
"You did this to me! YOU!" Waylon yelled as he turned to Eddie, "You're an evil, sick motherfucker! You're a freak! A-a disgusting monster! URGH!! You're a monster! You're a serial killer!"
Eddie watched as Waylon hurtled these insults at him.
He grabbed hold of Eddie's jacket, twisting it in his hands. "You did this to me… y-you," he weakly uttered, burying his face in Eddie's chest.
"No, you did," Eddie said as he cradled Waylon's head. Waylon looked up into his eyes. Anger burned in his exhausted body and modest tears ran down his icy cheeks. Within the comfort there was a shred of malice in Eddie's eyes. He wouldn't let go of Waylon so easily. Waylon roughly pushed him away and regained his composure, giving him a glare of quiet rage before he headed back to the car.
Notes:
Thanks for reading!
Chapter 2: Pueblo
Notes:
Did not really say anything about when I update the fic but probably 1-2 weeks between each chapter!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
12/12/13
"Sweet thing, I watch you … Burn so fast it scares me..
Mind games, don't leave me ... I've come so far, don't lose me ...
It matters where you are …"
…
"Hey hey, lover, you still burn me … You're a song, yeah (Hey! hey!)"
Eddie was singing on "When the Sun Hits" the entire week they were in Pueblo. He seemed so content with where he was in life, like he had everything he had ever wanted.
"Alicia" was the name of their cleaner; the one who took care of the bodies and the murder scene. She wasn't cheap, but Eddie had plenty of money to go around thanks to some strings that had been pulled and the new, wealthy identity of "James Blackwell", a recluse who had sold his inherited business to another family member and taken off. Alicia wasn't their only asset; the person they stayed with, Fabian, was the one who knew her in the first place and the one who had fixed up Eddie's face and desperate situation. Along with Angel, a skilled hacker who had known Miles and had found Eddie and Fabian, they were a squad of miscreants.
Waylon still struggled to come to terms with everything, he could feel the anger swirling underneath his skin everyday. It often resurfaced in the night, trying to claw its way through his flesh to feel the fresh air of the outside. But it was perhaps intentional; because every time his body began to refuse to lie still he felt the fierce arms of Eddie wrap themselves around him, holding him tightly. Then, he felt the cruel fire that was burning his veins cool down, and his mind rested. Sometimes Eddie would hush with his voice or speak words of comfort, and sometimes Waylon would flip him to the back so that he could lie into him.
Fabian had gotten Waylon a weighted blanket. Yeah, as if he was some nervous cat! Once he tried it out though he couldn't deny that it did comfort him. He didn't know how to feel about Fabian though, they had gotten off a bit on the wrong foot. Fabian was a wealthy and respected plastic surgeon who came from a family of doctors. Alike Eddie, he had a thing for killing people in his spare time sometimes, though his bloodlust was well under control. With his particular skills he also had connections to higher up criminals, that is to say, he had many assets and little to worry about.
Fabian was just like Eddie; ever-cheerful and bubbly, except for when they had their little tantrums and spat insults like no other. He was less patient with Waylon than Eddie was, not caring for his "grumpiness" and his "souring mood". Still, for Eddie's sake, he would care for Waylon and protect him with his life.
Eddie and Fabian shared a near unbreakable bond, and they had known each other for over 20 years. This was something that tugged at Waylon, for Fabian was gay as well. He couldn't comprehend why Eddie didn't leave him for Fabian; they were so much more alike, practically two peas in a pod. And the worst of it all — what Waylon loathed the most about this whole situation — was that he felt a bit… jealous.
In fact, not only were they all a crew of miscreants, they were a crew of gay miscreants. Eddie and Fabian were gay; Waylon, although he could hardly bring himself to say it, was bisexual; and Angel, who was also staying at the house with them, was non-binary and also bisexual. What a bunch, Waylon felt like he had to wrestle with the jaws of two beasts at once.
"Never underestimate a good weighted blanket and the wonders it can do, I knew you'd like it!" Fabian happily said.
"Yeah, yeah," Waylon simply replied, his patience thin as a thread. The three of them were redecorating and assembling some furniture in Fabian's wondrous winter garden. Waylon enjoyed keeping busy; it allowed his mind to give him some peace. Besides, he had spent a decent amount of time in here since they arrived 3 days ago, it was only fair that he'd help them out.
"If only it'd turn that frown upside down too," he added. Waylon had to turn around so Fabian wouldn't see him roll his eyes.
"Frankly, I don't know what Eddie sees in you," He continued, shortly after Eddie was out of earshot.
"Excuse me?" Waylon answered, anger poisoning his tone.
"You heard me," he replied with a dismissive smile, his eyes quickly moving away as Waylon stared at him and clenched his jaw.
"Eddie, sweetie, do you need some help with that?" Fabian asked as Eddie carried in part of the new coffee table.
"Thank you, my friend!"
Waylon watched as Fabian helped Eddie assemble the piece, their laughs and their chats a stark contrast to Waylon's gloomy corner. His round, little, corner table hardly got to feel skin brush against its wood as Waylon was fixated on the cheerful, touchy Fabian. His hands moved to feel Eddie more than usual; they continuously stroked his back and reached for his arms.
Waylon tried to avert his eyes and focus on the half-done table in front of him, but he felt the anger churn away his restraint. As Eddie got up again to get the second part of the coffee table, Fabian's hand was disrespectfully low on his back. Waylon got up as quickly as Eddie did and rushed over to Fabian after he had left.
"Can't you keep your hands to yourself?" Waylon said with a tone more demanding than asking.
"Please, you hardly even grace him with your touch," Fabian snapped back.
"You've got to be fucking playing with me," he said, a sinister smile briefly sweeping over his face, "Just keep your dirty hands to yourself, okay?"
"Is that all you've got?"
Waylon grabbed hold of his sweater and pulled Fabian towards him, "You don't want to see all I've got. You may be a surgeon, but you haven't seen such creative ways of silencing someone as I have."
Waylon gritted his teeth in determined fury, his eyes seeing the floor painted blood-red as Fabian threatened what was his.
"Huh, looks like your boy is indeed obsessed with you. Very well, I think I'm pleased," Fabian shared with a smile.
Waylon turned to see Eddie leaning against the door frame. He hastily pushed Fabian away as he noticed him.
"I told you," Eddie replied as he waltzed back into the room.
"What the hell?" Waylon proclaimed.
"I just had to make sure, darling. I don't want to shelter someone who's undeserving," Fabian answered, "But you do seem to care."
Waylon didn't press the matter more; he understood what Fabian had wanted, and knew that he had passed the test.
"You seem to have taken quite the liking to this garden," Fabian commented as he sat down next to Waylon, the winter garden lit with cozy lights as they looked out at the dark, cold evening. A few outdoor lights shone on the snow that rested on the grass, and they illuminated the snowflakes that slowly and continuously landed on top of it. It was calm here. There were no distant screams or noisy machines running in the background; it was just peaceful.
"Is Eddie in bed?" Fabian asked.
"Yeah. He likes to read for some time before going to sleep," Waylon answered, his eyes still peering at the snow outside.
"Indeed he does."
"You know, Waylon, it seems that you're stuck in this mindset that by staying your hand, but still partaking in Eddie's shenanigans nevertheless, you remain a better person with a better life to return to," He diligently stated.
"I am a better person, I'm supposed to be a better person. Not a serial killing maniac like him," Waylon asserted.
Fabian briefly turned his head away, seeming to rein his composure.
"For Eddie' sake, I won't give you a slap on your cheek for speaking about him like that. You may use these harsh words, but both him and I can see through you," he said. Waylon rubbed his hands together while still looking out.
"You're an accomplice to three first-degree murders, Waylon. You conspired to kill these men, just as Eddie did. Legally, you'd still be looking on similar charges, even if you weren't the one with the knife. Objectively speaking, you're a bad man, even if I or other sympathizers would say otherwise. You're not going to return to a better life, and I understand that you have a hard time adjusting to that, but you've already taken several leaps — both with murder and in your relationship with Eddie."
Silence washed over them as Waylon was left to his thoughts.
"Okay, and what do you want me to do?" Waylon asked, his question shallow as he barely sipped at what Fabian told him.
"Take steps to dealing with your emotions, do not just bury them when you're already doing things that you deem disgusting. You'll end up watching men burn alive and letting Eddie climb on top of you while still hanging on to the idea that you can go back to this 'better life' so long as you don't actively do something. You'll turn into a ghost!" Fabian gestured.
"I am already a ghost! In this house full of freaks!" Waylon exclaimed. He quickly realized his fault when he felt a firm hand grip his shoulder.
"I do not tolerate such words in my house. You'd do well to remember that." Fabian's black eyes didn't flinch one bit as they stared into Waylon's.
"I'm sorry… I'm just..—"
"Lashing out," Fabian said, finishing his sentence for him, "Let me help you, Waylon. It could be easier to deal with your emotions by categorizing them."
Waylon almost wanted to roll his eyes again, this guy probably loves the sound of his own voice as much as Eddie does his. Still, Waylon found himself perking up as he prepared to hear what he was going to say.
"One — You're ashamed of your newfound desire to enact vengeance through murder, and your overall new views on killing. Two — You're ashamed of wanting to be in a relationship with a serial killer, who additionally was caught and sent to an asylum. Three — You're ashamed of being a bisexual man. All these together make you deviant, othered, in your eyes, something you can't handle right now."
"And how am I supposed to handle it?" Waylon harshly asked, feeling like he was being laid bare like a patient on his surgeon table.
"Well, for once, I find that community helps. You're far from the only person who's like this, but you act like you are and so you end up wallowing in self-pity. Angel is an accomplice too, even though I can hardly see them ever committing murder themselves. We already have a nice little community in this house, let yourself join it, and let yourself explore your emotions along with Eddie. You don't have to come to terms with everything right away, but you've taken leaps into a world of adventure and stopped at the first obstacle. It would be a waste to just ignore it all and pretend you haven't," Fabian explained.
Waylon was left with a strange feeling of hopefulness as Fabian patted him on the back and took off. Fabian was right; there was no point in ignoring all this, it would only hurt him more. Delving further into his feelings could give him an idea of how to deal with everything and make the choices he wants to make. And aside from this, he was also just terribly tired. The storms soaring through his body constantly threaten to tear apart what's left of his heart and his mind, and he has to do something to salvage them.
Waylon sighed as he was sat on the side of the bed, his eyes staring into the floor.
"You sigh like you wish to speak," he heard Eddie say from behind him. Eddie was still tucked in bed reading, "I'm getting to know you just as well as you are getting to know me, darling."
Waylon sighed again before he spoke, "How come you're not with Fabian instead of me? He's much more alike you. Besides, he's right, I'm pretty miserable company right now."
Waylon heard the sound of a book clasping together and sheets being brushed by skin before he felt Eddie wrap himself around him. His bare chest met Waylon's exposed back, and his arms held softly around his waist.
"Waylon, you're the one I want. You've… affected me in a way no one else have, and you still do. You might feel trodden into the dirt right now, but it's only because of your own might. You survived both the asylum and Murkoff, which is something few others would. Besides, Fabian and I are simply friends, and we will remain as such," Eddie softly expressed as he caressed Waylon's arms.
"I see a light at the end of the tunnel, my darling, and I'll hold onto it for both of us if I must."
"But why? I promise you you'd find better company elsewhere. We've just spent a bit over a month together, how are you so sure about us?" Waylon asked, unsure if it was a stupid question given that Eddie had taken one look at him in the asylum and fallen into the gardens of obsession. Still, he felt the need to ask. He could hardly comprehend how he hadn't disappointed Eddie and wound up as another body on his conscious.
"I just am, Waylon. Don't you understand the magnitude I speak of? My life was completely different before I met you, and it's not a very short one I've lived. I enjoy your company, and while you hesitate to admit it, I know you enjoy mine." Eddie tightened his grip as these last words left his mouth.
Waylon only sat in silence, Eddie could tell he wasn't yet satisfied. He needed to know more about himself, he needed someone else to see him.
"I like your smart, creative personality that has brought us this far, that brought you this far. I like your bravery that keeps you from letting fear control you and push you away from your path. And I like your heart, for I know that beneath all the pain there's still a man who cares and knows himself. I admit I have a tendency to let my emotions take hold, but you, you have the ability to stand strong in any situation; to adapt and find new ways even when your own emotions war inside you. When they boil over though, you know to retreat into the comfort of my arms and let yourself rest. You're my rock, Waylon, just as I am yours," Eddie expressed, his words dancing their way into Waylon's ears.
"Are you not angry about Monday?" Waylon asked.
"No, I'm not. Do you know why?"
"… Because you're right, I am smart, I'm no fool. I chose this myself, even though you'll still do anything to keep me. I panicked when I realized what we had done, what I had done. I have no idea how to deal with all this, but perhaps I should let myself go a little more. Rome wasn't built in a day, I can't expect myself to know what I want and what I need to do right away, I just have to take it one day at a time and listen to myself. I have changed though, the Waylon you initially met is gone…"
"Gone is such a permanent word, I don't believe he's completely lost at all."
Waylon instinctively placed his face in his palms as he felt a well-known grimace form on his face. He sharply inhaled as he felt his skin be touched by his tears.
"Aw, darling," Eddie whispered as he hugged Waylon.
"I used to be a good, honest man. I used to be h-happy... But I let all this g-get to me."
Waylon let his tears stream down his face — he let it all be released as he mourned the life that he lost to Murkoff. He needed to do this before he could wipe his tears and start over. Waylon had to begin to unravel this lump that his heart had stitched up within it or else he'd never get a chance to heal.
Eddie was still clinging to him like a koala, "Feel better?" He asked after Waylon had calmed, deep breaths entering and exiting his lungs.
"Yes.. but I'm still angry. Murkoff gave me a match and you gave me a light. I burnt it all down for you, because you gave me a taste of something I didn't know I wanted, but I still don't know who I will be yet. One thing I know though is that I don't want to be cruel. Those working for Murkoff can die, but I won't go around cutting up random people for the thrill of it," he said, glancing over at Eddie.
"That's perfectly reasonable, we will not be doing that!"
12/14/13
Waylon watched over Eddie as he slept, staring at his still, peaceful body as he sat in the bed. The room was shrouded in darkness, only slightly lit up by his desk light that was at its weakest. Waylon was lost in the same thoughts as he had been the last couple of nights. His conversation with Eddie still echoed in his mind.
His desires twisted his heart, on one hand, he wished to place his pillow over that face and smother him until his body went limp, and on the other, he wanted to sit on that face until he was pleased. He didn't have it in him to kill him, no way. Waylon's mind could hardly decide for himself, but his hand itched for something, it needed something.
Waylon's fingertips found themselves slowly stroking the skin of his thigh, his hand on a mission to a place he had neglected ever since the incident.
As he watched that undisturbed man he lightly churned his cock around in his hand, the underwear restraining it. He just wanted a feel of it, he just wanted the shivers it would send through his body. Waylon had a plan though. Quietly, he left the bed to find what he needed. It was all nestled in one of the cabinets of this room.
Eddie was a heavy sleeper, but Waylon still made sure to move with care. He fastened the double cuffs to the bed before he gently slipped them around Eddie's wrists, stringing his muscular arms up. Still asleep, Waylon stroked his cheek until his body shifted; his head leaning into Waylon's hand and his eyelids flickering. At first there was the sound of the leather cuffs slamming into the spindle headboards, their chains rustling. His eyes, widened with the brief panic, turned to see the shrouded figure now on top of him, and he knew.
"Darling!" Eddie gushed. It sent a shiver down Waylon's spine as it threw him back to the memory of the moment they had first seen each other after the outbreak.
This was all Eddie got to say, for Waylon tied a soft piece of red fabric around his mouth, gagging the man who was as excited as a puppy where he lied.
Waylon backed away from his chest, his knees slowly taking him backwards until his butt reached Eddie's privates. Waylon pulled his underwear down and reached for his own cock, and as he stroked himself he lightly rubbed against Eddie's covered, joyous dick.
"Mmphh." Eddie was always quick to be vocal about his pleasure, it took little to get him going.
Waylon quietly groaned as he took his time, learning about and experiencing his newfound desires. He grimaced as he tried to not seem desperate, but it was almost painful how badly he wanted this, how badly he wanted to fuck Eddie. His hand was sturdy yet weak as he felt shivers tear through his body from stroking his hard cock, precum leaking out the tip.
Waylon's other hand gripped Eddie's side as he felt his orgasm creep up on him; he picked up his pace and felt himself nearly growl as he hunted for it. A loud breath of relief and elation left his mouth as he watched his cum decorate Eddie's tummy and as he finally felt the sweetness of his orgasm spreading within him, rewarding his work.
3 months it had been, and it was 3 months too long. As he looked at his satisfied dick he was reminded of Lisa. How he missed her. Waylon welcomed her in his mind, there was no use of trying to shut her out. He had loved her, truly, and he still did.
Perhaps more than he missed Lisa, he missed his children. Over 5 years ago, in the fall month of October, Lisa had sat over Waylon like this after they finally managed to conceive, though naturally, they hadn't known it at that time. 2 years ago, in the spring month of March, Waylon had sat over Lisa as they again conceived their second child. To think of these moments now was bittersweet. They brought him happiness, but he knew he could never see his family again.
After a moment, Waylon snapped back to reality. As he still felt Eddie's cock teasing his butt, he realized he wasn't yet content. Waylon moved further back, stripping Eddie of his underwear as he did. He took a firm hold of his large dick, drawing out a low moan from Eddie. Drops of precum glazed his tip. Impulsively, Waylon moved towards it. His lips enveloped his tip and his tongue licked the spill off.
The clang of chains rung in Waylon's ears as Eddie quickly pushed on the cuffs and lifted his head, his breath quickening.
"Do you want me to stop?"
Eddie fervently shook his head, just as Waylon had expected. He knew he had longed for this ever since his eyes met Waylon's in the asylum and since he showed up outside his door in November.
With one hand on Eddie's thigh and one around his shaft, Waylon wrapped his lips around Eddie's cock again. It was his first time ever sucking off a man, but nervousness didn't fester in his body, only hunger.
It was an unusual feeling; having someone's dick fill his mouth as his tongue got a taste of it and his lips faithfully embraced it. Unusual, but welcome. Eddie's body squirmed as the pleasure shot through his body, and his moans grew louder and louder. Waylon could feel his electrifying desire, its magnitude that of his own.
Eddie couldn't last long; he had yearned for this for months. Waylon didn't retreat; he let him bloom while his mouth still caressed him. He only pulled back once Eddie had been taken of all he had, and then he wiped his chin as he sat up in the bed. Waylon cleaned the little mess he had made on Eddie as well, before lying down next to him again.
"Go back to sleep," Waylon whispered as they looked into each other's eyes. Eddie complied and closed his eyes, a little time passing before he fell right to sleep and Waylon let him free.
Notes:
Thanks for reading! As you can tell I got really obsessed with "When the Sun Hits" while writing this chapter and so now this is the main song I associate Eddie and Waylon with lmao.
Chapter Text
12/15/13
Sunday the 15th, before the Monday Eddie and Waylon left for Breckenridge, Eddie and Fabian had prepared a grand dinner and a cozy evening. The lasagna tasted as delicious as it smelled, and the dessert of ice cream and berries was a sweet finish. Stories of young and old were told, and it was an evening to get to know each other more and enjoy the company of those sharing this home together.
Angel was the youngest of them in the house, being 29 years of age. They had a somewhat similar story to Waylon, having been a tech worker in a company that would put hell to shame. They seemed to carry the youthful optimism that Waylon had lost, but their thirst for blood was strong as well. Waylon found himself quite enjoying the company of Angel, it was nice to have someone who shared his interests and mind, and not yet as "othered" as Eddie and Fabian.
Waylon did almost not want to leave the house when the Monday came, but he took that as a good sign. Maybe he could still find peace in a quiet life, maybe he wasn't doomed to be a restless traveler and hunter for the rest of his life.
Under a blue sky adorned by dreamy, white skies, Eddie and Waylon followed the road to Breckenridge. Fields, trees, forests, rivers, hills, and mountains made up the endless scenery that surrounded them and showed them wonders. The road knew few other cars aside from Eddie's; for much of the journey it was just the two of them in this vast nature that defined Colorado.
"Breckenridge would be a good place to die," Waylon said, his eyes peering out at the plains and hills they passed. Layers of snow decorated every surface the eyes could see.
"Is that what you think will happen to us there?"
"Maybe. I imagine everyone's on high alert with those… "disappearances". They've maybe called in some bodyguards or whatever," Waylon replied.
"Maybe, but we'll just have to improvise then, darling."
Eddie's optimism was always in danger of becoming naivety, but Waylon knew he wasn't a fool. If anyone could spin a plan around, it was him, but of course, he wasn't quite as skilled as Waylon was with planning and adapting. Branches grew from Waylon's original thought; he knew he was no criminal mastermind, but maybe, if Eddie failed, Waylon could still save them. After all, if it went straight to the fiery pits of hell, Waylon was the one with a cool mind.
"Isn't it gorgeous out here, I can't wait until we reach the mountains. You must've been on some skiing trips with your family to places like Breckenridge?" Eddie asked.
"Mostly when I was a kid. With Lisa and the boys we haven't really been on any proper ones. Still… it's fun to play in the snow."
"It's mighty fun! But I've spent little time skiing or sledding or doing any of these fun winter activities. I will be enjoying myself in Breckenridge," Eddie expressed.
Waylon glanced over at Eddie. He could feel the excitement radiating from him, but Waylon was only reminded of the childhood that was stolen from Eddie by his very own father and uncle. He pitied him for what had happened to him. Eddie seemed so happy to have a new family these days, a proper one.
"Yeah… your… family should've taken you on trips during this season," Waylon suggested.
"*Sigh* Yeah. But oh well, you can't have everything," he shrugged.
With a puzzled expression Waylon decided to push the matter. He hoped he still wasn't living in delusion about what had happened to him.
"Are you aware of what your father and your uncle did? The-"
"Medication has shown me the truth, or so Fabian says. You're just like him, wishing to prod at matters of the past. He also did say that you'd want me to… know.. what had happened to me, to not be... ignorant about it."
Waylon could tell how uncomfortable it was for him to speak about it. His hands tightened the grip on the wheel and his body began to stiffen like wood.
"So you and Fabian have talked about this?" Waylon asked.
"Yesss, we haveee. He wants me to recognize it, and then heal, but I don't need to "heal". I'm doing perfectly fine," he dramatically gestured, seeming to loosen up and try a new strategy as Waylon didn't yet leave the subject. Waylon got the feel that Eddie was trying to reassure him more than himself.
"Okay. So long as you're not in denial about what they did to you."
"I'm not! Now, can we move on to other matters?" He impatiently replied.
"You do seem like you're fine, in your own way. You seem the happiest you've ever been," Waylon remarked.
"That's cause I am! I can breathe in fresh air and go on trips with you across all of our home state Colorado. Isn't that the life? I'm alive, I'm here with the man that I love, and I've been reunited with my old friend and made a new one. The past is the past, and frankly, it's easy for me to forget."
Waylon didn't doubt that, and he realized the opposite boats they found themselves in. Eddie went from a life of pain to a life of joy after the Mount Massive outbreak, and Waylon experienced the opposite. Eddie's boat was big though, big enough to limp Waylon up from his damaged one and sail him to new shores.
"Look at this place — tall mountains as far as the eye can see, forests and trees breathing life into the earth, and lodgings of the highest quality. What a marvel!"
Waylon and Eddie had settled into the place that was going to be their home for the next days. As Waylon sat down on the bed he couldn't help but feel sparks of excitement dancing inside of him. He couldn't deny that this place seemed like heaven on earth. The streets and the slopes were awaiting them; Waylon and Eddie needed only step outside.
"I see that little smile of yours," Eddie playfully commented.
"It might be wiped off soon if things don't go our way."
"Your pessimism won't hold you forever. You heard Alicia on the phone, there doesn't seem to be any bodyguards assigned to them," Eddie gestured.
"Still, five Murkoff employees with each their own gun isn't something to take lightly when there's just the two of us," Waylon argued.
"Oh, but we have solid plan, don't we, darling?"
There was nothing Eddie could say to ease Waylon's mind about this, but unlike last time, thoughts about their planned murders only quietly rumbled in the back of his mind. He was too eager to get out and experience Breckenridge before another 5 murders would be added to his list of crimes.
12/17/13
Oh, it had been a long time since Waylon had put skis on his feet and felt the snow carry him. He was no less determined though and managed to adjust to it quick enough, his muscle memory had not yet faded. To watch Eddie struggle with keeping on his feet and manoeuvring these lands on his skis was nothing short of a comedy though.
"Darling! Wait for me!," Eddie shouted out as Waylon thought he had maybe gotten the hang of it.
"C'mon, you were doing so well!" He grinned.
"There's a downhill coming up! Just glide steady now," Waylon encouraged him.
"What do you think I've been trying to do!"
Waylon waited for him to catch up again before it was time for their skis to brave down this hill, the grin still painting his face.
"I'm not sure about this, darling. That's a steep hill if I've ever seen one," Eddie said.
"You'll be fine, just follow my lead!"
"Well, if you say so."
Eddie was, of course, not fine. It started off good, but down at the foot of the hill it was the man sliding down it and not the skis. Waylon couldn't contain his laughter, this was perhaps the best idea Eddie had come up with for them to do.
Waylon helped a snow-covered Eddie up to his feet, a grumpy expression across his face until he saw the joy radiating from his beloved. A frown quickly turned to a smile, and a smile to a chuckle.
"You'll get there soon, I'm sure," Waylon cheered him up.
"I believe you, darling! Though I can't wait to go sledding down these hills and mountains, that seems the most fun... and a bit easier than this."
Waylon carried his enthusiasm throughout their entire skiing trip. After endless days of feeling like a dried-up corpse he felt more alive than he had in a long time. The cold air brushed his happy face as his body felt the thrill of adventuring out among the towering mountains. No worries were allowed to cross his mind while here.
Sledding brought Waylon as much joy as an adult as it had when he was kid. But sledding did not only bring that; it brought memories of his adventures with his parents from long ago, and memories of his adventures with Lisa and his sons from not far ago. Waylon's mind endured just long enough, and it wasn't until they returned home that he sunk into the bed and let his emotions slowly wash over him.
Waylon was no child any longer, and it wasn't his father's big arms that came to comfort him. Instead, it was the man that he had ran away with to explore new seas and paint them red.
"Tired after our fun day together?" Eddie asked as he became the bed that Waylon rested atop. For a man like him it was no effort to lift Waylon's body up and tuck himself underneath it.
"No… I'm haunted by memories. I miss my family."
"Ah, I see. I do miss Fabian and Angel when we're out here. I know it's not exactly like how you mean, but.. I understand," Eddie said. Waylon could tell he was trying to put himself in his shoes, regardless of whether he was managing to do it or not.
"Can I talk to you about this? My family — how I feel about them — without you getting angry or jealous?" Waylon questioned him.
"Of course you can! You can talk to me about anything. And frankly, you've hardly held back so far. You've lashed out at me, called me all kinds of things, and talked about your wife and your two sons. And how have I reacted?"
Waylon knew the answer to that question. Eddie had been patient. Perhaps not the most empathetic, but he wasn't void of it.
"I've been waiting for you to cross a line," Waylon said as he sat up in front of Eddie, "Waiting, for you to hurt me, to give me a reason to leave."
As Eddie remained silent, Waylon tried to look past Eddie's expression; to see what emotions lingered behind his little smile and his clever eyes, but he could not.
"You know, I'm not quite as stupid or ignorant as you or others may see me as. I'm capable of seeing how others see me, how you see me. I know you will never be okay with what has happened, but I also know that you… want me, just as I want you. Take all the time you need, Waylon, for I will be here. I will always be here."
A streak of cold water ran down Waylon's spine, its chill spreading through his body as he was reminded of just how composed Eddie could be when it was needed. It was an almost ugly reminder, but a curious one too.
"Right…" Waylon only replied.
Eddie stroked Waylon's cheek, his gentle fingers savoring every touch. The devotion in Eddie's eyes surpassed even the most faithful priest, and his smile was more enchanting than a spell. It left Waylon with feelings he could hardly explain. Was it a strange sense of comfort that bubbled up inside of him? Was it desire? Whatever it was, it didn't matter in this moment. Today he just wanted to exist, he wanted to feel rather than think.
At ease, Waylon sunk back into Eddie's body, bringing his face closer to his as he stared into Eddie's ever-blue eyes. His eyes were no less lively than the sea itself. Gentle fingers found their way to Waylon's chin before the tip of a nose lightly caressed his own. Waylon was nestled in Eddie's arms, safe — protected, and whatever urges to withdraw that could've began to soar through his body had been lulled to sleep.
It felt so terribly intimate, it was almost enough to wake the dormant urges. Eddie didn't close in on the object of his desires, he waited — patiently. Waylon could tell, and without much thought, his fingers moved to feel the skin of Eddie's cheek. They stroked it ever so kindly. Again, it was such a strange and overwhelmingly intimate thing, despite being so simple, so common. Waylon was not capable of counting how many times he had caressed the face of a lover, it was as natural as living and breathing. There were times when it felt more substantial than normal, but this — it was like he had never experienced it before.
Waylon hesitated not; as he held Eddie in his hand he closed the distance between their lips. Eddie's sweetness carried over to him, a taste of cherry being left on Waylon's lips. The room was filled with a peaceful quiet, and outside of it reigned the moon and the snow. Their bed lamps lit this space just enough.
"Mmh.." Sounds of pleasure left Eddie as Waylon sunk deeper and deeper into his embrace, his lips lovingly pressing against Eddie's. All their kisses before this night had lacked something they didn't now. Emboldened by all his emotions, by all this change, Waylon parted his lips just enough for his tongue to seek out Eddie's. The man underneath him had long awaited this moment, and delay was unheard of as he replied by hungrily feeling and tasting it. A new light of pleasure sparked inside Waylon, and its residue dripped down his body.
Eddie reached for Waylon's shirt, and their mouths parted for a moment to allow Eddie to wrangle it off. His firm hands grabbed hold of his exposed waist and swiftly turned him around, pushing him onto his back in this bed. Eddie's big, muscular body pinned Waylon down into the bed. Waylon wasn't sure he could wrestle him off now. He was a tall man himself, but he wasn't built like how Eddie was.
It was no night for rough play though; those nights could come later. Today they kissed with more passion than they had ever done. Every feel and every touch carried the comfort of a soothing lullaby and the knowledge that they could still know love in this cold world.
12/19/13
"Yesterday was really nice, my darling," Eddie had said to Waylon in the morning, 1 day ago. His arms had pulled around him tight, and Waylon had leaned back into his embrace. It had been a peaceful morning, the sun even coming out to greet the icy snow. Right now though, they were back at what would soon be the scene of a crime, the outside nothing but darkness as far as the eye could see.
Jason Valentine, Angela Martin, Jordan Scott Clark, Mason Griffiths, and Percy Whiteford were the ones who had picked the short straws today. Waylon wasn't quite sure what they would do without Angel. Thanks to them, it was rather easy to trick those Murkoff employees into where they wanted them.
5 souls all in the hands of two escapees of that mad asylum, 5 souls who had been judged and sentenced for aiding and abetting the Murkoff Corporation in their crimes. The reaper was coming; their punishments were due.
A part of Waylon worried still. They weren't gonna continue their murder spree for much longer. They only had one more place to go for this wave, but you could never be prepared enough to take on a company like this.
Alike the three men in Alamosa they were a crew of different reactions and emotions. Jason and Angela seemed the most composed, Jordan and Percy were shedding tears as they tried to get out, and Mason seemed to let his anger get the best of him.
Eddie acted with haste today, only briefly toying with his food and soaking up the view. His knife acted with care — not even getting to taste the flesh and the blood of all — as Alicia wanted to clean it all up quickly, likely due to the number. Waylon was as eager as her to get this over with and return to the safety of Fabian's house.
"What thoughts have you about it? This time I was quick — hardly even enjoying my time with them."
"… I think that I take no pleasure in killing these people. They deserve it, sure, but I don't think I will ever gain a need to do this. To kill. That makes me happy," Waylon said, briefly glancing over at Eddie, "I'm perhaps not as lost as I feared I was, even if I've certainly still changed."
"Indeed, I find it more dull these days, really. But they will pay for what they did."
Waylon wasn't quite sure he believed Eddie, but right now, he didn't care. It was a new day as they were heading back to Pueblo, but not yet a new dawn. Hours and hours still remained before the sun would rise, and sleep was beginning to come.
"Murkoff doesn't really care about their employees though. They've certainly lost a lot of money so far, but not enough to send them into ruin. We might never be able to achieve that… and that's something I need to learn to accept, or else I will be lost forever. And I have to accept that I chose to go with you cause I wanted to… because…"
Waylon stopped in his tracks, feeling like his brain stitched together his lips and evaporated all the words he needed to say.
"Anyway," he shook his head, "That's a conversation for another day. I just have to learn to live with myself this way, I have to be able to let myself think about other things than Murkoff, even though it will always be a wound that never quite heals. It just doesn't need to be everything though, it can't be everything. I have another shot at life, and I won't let Murkoff take it too."
"Do you comprehend this? Do you understand my emotions?" Waylon asked Eddie.
"I do. You're my priority, this new life of ours is what I care about. And of course, if you're not honest with yourself, if you do not shape your own way forward… things will never change. You'll just… be stuck," Eddie expressed.
"Yeah.."
Waylon had more on his mind, but he let it be for now. His head leaned back and his hand reached for Eddie's thigh. He kneaded on it until he was satisfied, and then he turned to close his eyes and wait for sleep. It wasn't long until it came, and the next time he opened his eyes they had arrived at Fabian's grand home.
Notes:
Thanks for reading:) I had a lot of fun learning about Colorado and the places there when writing this fic. Love me a fic that leaves me spending a lot of time in google maps and doing research lmao, I'm always really eager to learn more about the world.
leovvia on Chapter 1 Sat 06 Sep 2025 08:42AM UTC
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cain9s on Chapter 1 Sat 06 Sep 2025 03:06PM UTC
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leovvia on Chapter 1 Sun 07 Sep 2025 01:37PM UTC
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leovvia on Chapter 3 Mon 08 Sep 2025 01:41PM UTC
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cain9s on Chapter 3 Mon 08 Sep 2025 03:34PM UTC
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