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Frenchie stood up, stretching from the position he had been in for a while. Kimiko was painting her nails again, this time gold. “I am going out for a breather.”
Kimiko nodded, her eyes focused on her nails. Frenchie hummed, nodding as well as he strolled out of his section. Glancing over MM, who was back at his doll house. Butcher was asleep or something in his own section.
MM briefly looked up questioning. “Out for a breather.”
With a nod, MM was looking back at his dollhouse for his daughter. Frenchie almost wished he could meet the daughter at some point, but knew it was better for her never to meet him. Speaking of people who would’ve been better off never having met him or the other Spice Girls, where was Hughie?
Frenchie hadn’t seen him since he had headed out earlier.
Ah, Hughie. He is something else. Cares so much. In too deep with them. It was obvious from the first sight of him, Hughie wasn’t part of this kind of life. Despite everything, he had adapted well. Frenchie found it impressive that the boy still was holding together, even with the numerous times he’s had to wash brain and blood out of his hair. It has taken a toll on Hughie. As one should expect. He did get involved because of his girlfriend. I wonder if he would tell me about her if I asked.
Exiting the pawn shop, Frenchie turned immediately for the alleyway. He did not feel like people at the moment. As he took in the alleyway, his eyes locked onto a silhouette on the ground. It had rather light hair. On edge, Frenchie looked for any noticeable threats in the alley.
He found nothing that stuck out, besides the immobile body. Everything he knew told him to leave, but curiosity told him to go forward. The body had a light colored hoodie, blue jeans, and converse. Stepping over the body, Frenchie crouched in front of them. His stomach dropped as he fell backwards.
Dead blue eyes stared blankly at him. Eyes belonging to one Hughie Campbell.
Frenchie fumbled for his phone, shakily raising to his ear before realizing he hadn’t even opened it. Quickly punching in MM’s phone number, Frenchie pressed his free hand to his forehead. His hand partially blocked the view of Hughie’s face. Of the blood that was surrounding him.
Frenchie thought he was numb to the sight of dead bodies. He felt like throwing up.
MM answered the phone with, “What are you calling for?” Frenchie didn’t answer right away, his hand snaking out to touch a bright red line on Hughie’s throat. A shudder ran through him. “Frenchie? What the fuck?”
“Come… come out to the alley beside the shop,” Frenchie got out.
“What the fuck? Why?” MM’s tone was frustrated, but Frenchie wasn’t paying attention.
“Just come.” He hung up, his arm hanging over his knees as he stared at his friend. The cut on the throat staring back at him. As if it was mocking him. “What happened petit Hughie?”
Unthinkingly, Frenchie leaned forward to press his fingers to Hughie’s pulse even though he knew without a doubt that Hughie was dead.
That’s how MM found him, crouched with his pointer and middle finger pressed under Hughie’s jaw searching for a nonexistent pulse. Frenchie watched numbly as MM appeared into his view, saying something that he had no hope of hearing.
Only once MM moved Hughie did Frenchie move. Leaping to his feet, now unable to forget the blood on his hand, his clothes, his shoes. Frenchie pulled off his coat as MM lifted Hughie gently. The gun runner laid the coat over Hughie, hiding the blood.
With the blood hidden, only the cut ruining the image, it was like Hughie was merely asleep.
Frenchie didn’t remember leaving the alleyway and going back into the hideout, walking past the gang, Butcher, and Kimiko. His eyes were on MM’s back the whole way. MM gently laid Hughie in the bed he had been using and pulled back.
The look on MM’s face was enough to break through Frenchie’s shock and disbelief, sending a body wrenching sob through him. It’s shaking hands, Frenchie pulled Hughie’s blanket over his unmoving body and up to his chin. Allowing the illusion of him just sleeping to return.
“I… I’m going back out,” MM said, a tremor in his voice. He turned and walked out, Frenchie didn’t bother to watch him go. He could understand not wanting to see Hughie like this. Frenchie had half a mind of doing the same.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Frenchie murmured, staring down at Hughie. Out of all of the ways for him to die, this was almost pathetic. After surviving all that he did. Just to be knifed in an alley.
Frenchie squeezed his eyes shut, he could feel tears threatening to come. The other half of his mind guided him to sitting on the edge of Hughie’s bed. “It shouldn’t have happened like this.”
He swallowed, opening his eyes to look at Hughie’s face. It was odd how peaceful his expression was. The thought reminded him of the last day they had been on the boat with Kimiko’s brother. It had been an accident, just the right timing for Frenchie to be passing over that section of the boat as Hughie had started speaking.
“You know that music video for the Billy Joel song where there is this guy on a bridge about to jump when Billy Joel shows up? And Billy Joel tells him to hold on? That a second wind is coming?” Hughie asked into the phone. Frenchie was frozen a few feet above him, dreading to be proven right on his thought. “I’m that guy and you’re… you’re my second wind.”
Frenchie felt his throat tighten at the memory. They all knew Hughie was in bad shape mentally. None of them were really fit to talk to him about it, if he even would give them the time of day for such a conversation. Frenchie knew how he was after learning of Jay’s death, that had been a rough day. There had to be a kind of irony of him inhaling the harder mixes that night and still be around to this day.
Maybe he should’ve spoken to Hughie about his grief. Maybe that would’ve eased the weight on Hughie’s shoulders. He was not a good one for comfort, but he could’ve tried. Perhaps he could’ve told Hughie that revenge isn’t nearly as carathic as everyone is led to believe. Even if he had done that, what would have it changed. Probably nothing.
“This was a terrible way to die,” Frenchie told Hughie firmly. “You at the very least should’ve gone out in a way that was incredible and a big as you are. Not something small and barely a blip in any other lives. Not when you’ve made such a difference in people’s lives.” Frenchie swallowed, the urge for something that would numb him crawled into him. Frenchie resisted the urge, Hughie needed him there more. He needed to be next to Hughie more than any drug. He licked his lips. “Not after the difference you made in my life. Everyone knows you’re Butcher’s canary, but you’re my canary too. You remind all of us of our humanity, of others. You are what keep us from going to far again.”
There was a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump and his head snap around to look at the owner of the hand. Kimiko squeezed his shoulder, a deep sadness in her eyes. Even as he wished he could remove that look, he knew he couldn’t. With a shaky inhale of breath, Frenchie couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Giving a trembling smile, Frenchie patted Kimiko’s hand and looked back at Hughie.
He felt Kimiko’s hand slip away as he looked down, hanging his head. Frenchie could barely bring himself to look at Hughie, he had to force himself to. Curling his hand over where Hughie’s rested under the blanket, Frenchie let stories and anything that came to mind fall from his lips. Regret twisting inside of him, wishing he had done this before.
A regretful wish that he had done all of this and more with Hughie before. Had taken the time to spend time with the string bean and get to know him more. Get to know even more of that gooey inside of such a caring person that got himself mixed up in such fucked up shit.
Frenchie missed the twitch of a hand under his as he painted the picture of a fond memory.
~~
Mother’s Milk stared blankly at the dollhouse he was still working on. The memory of him threatening to kill Hughie if he had caused MM not to finish that dollhouse vivid in his head. He couldn’t wrap his head around the recent events. It wasn’t like he was unfamiliar with death or dead bodies. Yet the idea of Hughie Campbell, of all people, was dead.
It just wasn’t consprehensible.
If MM had been asked who would be the first one to die back when the Spice Girls had first come together, he would’ve said Hughie. He would’ve said Hughie because the kid wasn’t used to this life and the shit that came with it. He would’ve said that because Hughie was inexperienced. He would’ve said it because he hadn’t known Hughie.
Hughie was so much more than he had any clue. The compasion, the consideration, the intelligence yet such a dumbass, the fight, the survival instinct. Despite the fact that Hughie had definitely thought about ending it, MM wasn’t blind nor deaf but he hadn’t wanted the comfirmation that he had overheard anyway. Despite the clear dead, hollow, lifeless look Hughie had sometimes. Despite everything, there was a survival instinct in the kid. He wasn’t going to go down easily.
Out of all of them, Hughie was the most innocent and somehow still the brightest person in the room. Hughie had the biggest heart out of all of them. MM could see how much they all needed Hughie even if they wouldn’t admit it or how much they should just let Hughie go on his own way while he still had had the chance to get out.
“What’s with all the fucking moping around here?” Butcher demanded. MM didn’t bother looking at him. Out of all of them Butcher needed Hughie the most to remind him of his humanity and bring him back from the edge.
“Hughie’s dead.” The words sounded hollow to his own ears. MM supposed there was some part of him that had accepted him as family.
“The fuck are you going on bout?” Butcher snapped, a snarl in his voice. “The fucking lad just doesn’t fucking die.”
MM could almost agree there. Hughie seemed like on a different level then them, like there was an untouchable element of him. But really, he was as fucked up and broken as the rest of them, not to the point they all were but he was so close to shattering on a good day.
“I carried him back,” MM said dully, the blood he scrubbed off of his hands still there somehow. Maybe not physically but it would never leave any other way. MM turned towards Hughie’s section, ignoring the tremor in his hands as he sat forward. “Frenchie’s in with h--”
“ Hughie?! ” came a shout from said man, something in his voice set MM on edge. MM leapt to his feet. He had lost track of the time, but this was enough. Hughie was without a dead, it would be doing more harm for Frenchie to be sobbing by his bedside than away. A part of MM was surprised that Frenchie wasn’t downing every available drug there was in their hideout.
Perhaps it was Frenchie who really needed Hughie more then everyone else. It was obvious the kind of support that Frenchie had gotten from Hughie without there being a real change in things. MM knew Frenchie was leaning onto Hughie, Hughie leaning on him for something to focus on, while Frenchie focused on trying to help Kimiko somehow.
Entering Hughie’s room, MM was about ready to pull Frenchie off of the dead body of their friend. The Frenchman was rocking back and forth with Hughie in his arms, silent sobs shaking his shoulders. Before he could step closer, Kimiko crawled onto the bed behind the two. That was when he saw the pale hands curled around Frenchie.
Hughie’s eyes were dull but they were open and seeing. His lips pulled up at seeing MM. There was a gray waxy look to Hughie’s face, but he was undoubtably alive.
Kimiko was wrapped around Hughie on the back, that had to be the most physically affectionate MM had ever seen Kimiko. She was touching every available part of Hughie she could.
MM’s mind whirled as he tried to understand. He knew that it was impossible. He had felt for the pulse, he had seen the shape Hughie was in. No one. No one could come back from that.
Frenchie had pulled back from the tight grip he had had on Hughie, support that the kid probably needed, his hands now cupping Hughie’s face. Hughie was leaning his cheek into Frenchie’s palm, there was a soft emotion in Hughie’s eyes. Frenchie said something too fast, too low for MM to hear. There was a beat and Frenchie crashed their lips together. MM looked down just as Hughie returned the kiss with as much vigor, his eyes catching onto Hughie’s throat.
Right before his eyes a faint cut disappeared from view. The only tell that Hughie had been injured. Besides that deep cut in his throat, Hughie just looked like he was ill.
“What the fuck ?” MM was surprised it took that low for Butcher to say something. “You were fucking dead .”
Frenchie ignored Butcher in favor of kissing Hughie, Hughie’s long fingers were gripping Frenchie’s clothes had. With a slight tug, Hughie broke away, clearly unable to ignore being shouted at. The break from their mouths didn’t slow Frenchie down, he kissed along Hughie’s jawline as said man looked at Butcher.
“ Yeah ,” Hughie said, his voice normal. MM had expected at least a hoarse note. It was just like nothing happened. Hughie tugged at Frenchie again. “Frenchie, not right now.” Frenchie froze pulling back and looked at Hughie’s face. Hughie pressed a chaste kiss to Frenchie’s and pulled back. “We have to talk about that.”
MM took an unsure step forward, then another and another, until he reached the bed. He fell to his knees. Eye to eye with Hughie, there was a flicker of fear in those blue eyes, MM wrapped his arms around the three of them. Careful not to encroach on Kimiko, MM had Frenchie and Hughie almost completely in his arms.
He could hear Butcher spluttering behind him. Turning his head to level Butcher with a dark look. “Either join or shut up.”
Butcher snapped his jaw shut and glared at them before spinning on his heel and stalking out. MM wanted to cuss him out, the fucking asshole had barely fucking known that a crucial member of their team was dead before they were alive again. Somehow. Someway.
MM didn’t fucking care how he was alive, only that Hughie was.
~
Hughie had come awake with a gasp of breath, followed shortly by his eyes coming open. His lungs taking in fresh air for the first time in who knows how long. The memory of the knife cutting through his throat with ease, hitting the ground with a hard thump, the pain flaring everywhere as his pockets were rifled through came to the front of his mind. Hughie knew without looking around that he wasn’t in the alley anymore.
Someone had found him.
He could hear Frenchie speaking, making it clear who had found him. Hughie almost wished it hadn’t been him. Or any of the team. He hadn’t wanted them to know. He himself had tried to forget the whole coming back again.
His chest ached like it remembered the feeling of the wound too.
It didn’t take Frenchie long to realize that his eyes were open. “ Hughie?! ”
Hughie almost expected the shout to make his head hurt, but it didn’t. Actually, he felt better physically then he had in a while. Besides the desire for a nap, he was good.
Frenchie’s arms snaked around Hughie and pulled him into a tight hug. Bring his hands up to lightly touch Frenchie’s lower back, a lag in strength for a moment. Hughie let his head rest on Frenchie’s shoulder, politely ignoring the wetness on his own shoulder as they rocked back and forth. He felt the bed dip behind him and a st of hands started touched his hair, then his arms, then just about everything. Hughie caught sight of Kimiko as she was bouncing between areas checking for something. Movement at the door caught Hughie’s attention for a brief second before Frenchie stole it back.
Suddenly, Frenchie was pulling back from the hug. His hands cupping Hughie’s face. Hughie couldn’t resist leaning his cheek into the hand, loving the feel of Frenchie’s caloused hand on his face. He completely missed what Frenchie said, too caught up in the franatic look in the Frenchman’s eyes, there was something else there too. Then, Frenchie was kissing him.
Hughie’s eyes fluttered closed, his hands grabbing onto Frenchie’s shirt, and he kissed back. There was a pleasant scratch from Frenchie’s scruff. He sighed into Frenchie’s mouth, opening his mouth just a little as an invitation. Frenchie did not turn it down, devouring him.
He heard Butcher cussing out, “You were fucking dead .”
Pulling on Frenchie’s shirt, Hughie reluctantly put space between him and Frenchie. This didn’t deter him whatsoever, the Frenchman focused on his jawline kissing down it and onto his neck. Hughie stared at Butcher dully, there wasn’t any extra energy left to give a fuck about Butcher’s reaction. He just simply said, “Yeah.”
Hughie had to bite back a moan, tugging to extract Frenchie from his neck. “Frenchie, not right now.” He felt the Frenchman tense up, immediately pulling back and looking desparately at Hughie, there was a kind of fear in his eyes. Hughie felt his throat close up at the realization he was the cause of that fear. Pressing a chaste kiss to Frenchie’s lips, not allowing it to get out of hand. “We have to talk about that.”
Hughie couldn’t just be a fling, not just have life reassuring sex with Frenchie and that be the end of that. He wanted to wake up beside Frenchie. To watch Frenchie while he cooked and taste the food. To have movie nights. Cuddles in bed and on the couch. To date Frenchie. To be with Frenchie. Having sex with Frenchie once and nothing more than that would kill him.
There were footsteps, and a thud of MM’s knees hitting the floor. Hughie swallowed, the fear of the team rejecting him because he was a supe coming back fast and hard. Looking at MM, he tried to read what MM was feeling with no dice. MM wrapped them into a hug. A warmth spread into him, hope that it would be alright.
There was just a dark look from MM to Butcher as MM said something, Hughie missing it was he basked in the touch. He didn’t realize how touch starved he had been feeling before right then. Hughie buried his head into Frenchie’s shoulder, his own water works coming now.
“Hughie?” Frenchie asked, concern clear in his voice.
“I don’t want you guys to hate me.” The words slipped out without Hughie’s permission. They wouldn’t hate him in the same way he hated himself, a completely different reasons than the supe part of him. But he was a supe. Was that going to destroy his relationships with them?
“Why would we?”
“I’m a supe. Immortal, I guess.” Hughie never had said it out loud before.
“We don’t hate you,” MM spoke before anyone else, but there was comfirmation from Frenchie and Kimiko stroked his hair carefully. “Definitely not for that.”
“But Butcher…” The reaction had been exactly as Hughie had pictured it would go with Butcher, the anger the words, all of that fun stuff.
“Fuck Butcher,” MM and Frenchie said in unison.
A smile fought its way onto to Hughie’s face, a soft thank you slipping out with the rest of it. MM just tightened his arms around them. Frenchie’s thumb brushed against Hughie’s healed throat, his nose pressed against the top of Hughie’s head. Kimiko’s fingers curled on his neck and a hand on his arm.
Hughie felt like he was in the centre of something he had never thought of before, somehow there was an unconditional unspoken love between them. Even if they did want to kill each other some days.