Act 2:3
This is the writer's copy and as such contains many, many spoilers in the links and notes.
He maybe should have eased up harassing a kid with zero self preservation.
It had started off because the kid's laugh was fucking ridiculous; the kid coming at him fists flying doubly so. So Hearth had kicked the kid's ass and walked away.
he should have left it there.
but it was a small island, and it was inevitable he'd run into the boy again.
he just could not help making a jab at him. fist came flying a second time; he beat the kid a second time.
he shouldn't have walked away though - not when he heard the comments from some of the onlookers.
Maybe should have not kept antagonizing a boy that was growing more and more unhinged ever year,
He had heard by now that Killer - as he'd come to be known on the streets - was growing into his name quite well. Hearth really should have taken that as a warning.
Instead, he couldn't help but call the younger man a chucklefuck, and it took both packs getting involved to break up the fight.
No longer a fight he'd be able to solo win, he realized later.
Should have let it be, not made that last parting shot.
He'd find himself in an ally getting his face slashed in later that week. Grappling for his life, trying to break free from where that fucking kid has him pinned down.
Then the knife comes out, and Hearth relises this is how he's going to die.
"Killing me isn't going to change the fact you laugh like a hockey getting a hand-job from an electric sander."
The kid seemed to take great pleasure in carving his face up. He guesses he should be lucky his little friend came and collected him before he decided the knife would look just as good in his chest.
Hearth felt pretty good lighting the little fucker on fire once the stitches were out of his face.
Wasn't really expecting little red to come for him in the days after; for a tiny little guy, he packed quite a punch. Hearth was pretty sure he was cheating with these blows somehow, but he blacked out so it really didn't matter.
He wasn't really expecting to wake back up again, and if they where tag teaming, he really should have let well enough alone.
He lit their base on fire once he was moving under his own power.
It went like that for the next couple years, until it was Hearth and Killer in another one of the stand offs. Hearth's head was ringing from a kick to the face and Killer was curled up swearing as he dealt with Hearth's knife sticking out of the back of his calf.
"..may..maybe ...we call a truce?" Hearth groaned as he pushed himself back up, double vision a bitch.
The kid was swearing like a feral rabid dog, snarling included.
"Dont... dont take it out until you got something to ... stop the bleeding.." Hearth warned as the kid tried to contort around to see what the hell of a mess Hearth left to his leg.
he put a hand out to .. help? honestly Hearth wasn't sure.
but he certainly wasn't expecting to get bitten for it.
he hit the kid in the face his the free hand, swearing as he ripped his fingers free in a spray of blood.
head pounding, Hearth cradled his hand to his chest, staring at the fucker across the alley from him. the kid got his back against the brick wall, legs pulled up to his body as he tried again to pull at Hearth's knife.
"seriously." heat tried again, "don't pull it."
he was starting to think there might be something else wrong; their fight usually had some dialogue to it, even if just trading insults. but the kid was just making noises, and Hearth groaned, trying to focus.
"hey.. hey, chucklefuck, you okay?"
growling.
"hey, look at me? you okay?"
it was clear the knife injury wasn't the only thing wrong, Hearth risked getting bit again and moved forward.
"hey, hey, look at me."
Hearth's bulk gave him the advantage, and he got a fish full of the kid's greasy unwashed hair and twisted his head so he could finally see the kids eyes under all that hair.
his pupils where blown, no colour left, and the white of his left eye was bloodshot. "fuck kid.... yo concussed or high?"
"where the little red fuck you're always with?"
could he walk away? it wasn't his mess. hell -they had just been *trying* to kill each other after all.
the kid was pressed as far into the corner as he could get, jumping at shadows, about hyperventilatinn
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