(no subject)
*Waves*
I'm de-Lurking and bringing my first Hanna fic with me. :3
Title: Poor thing doesn't have a tittle yet. :C
Characters: Punk!Hanna/Jayne(un!undead zombie)
Rating: Pg-13 as of now. Some cussing.
Summary: Hanna has been on the run ever since his parents were murdered seven years ago. One day a 'investigator' named Jayne finds him. I suck at summaries but beware that an adorable bromance WILL ensue.
Hanna saw the cop before anyone else had.
He had developed a sort of internal pig detector over his years of being on the run. Even if this particular swine wasn’t in his wolfs clothing at the moment, Hanna could tell. He could tell by the way the man walked, the way his eyes widened and then narrowed at the small group of punks that surrounded him, by the way he suddenly made a b-line towards them. Hanna could tell exactly what the man was.
Swiftly so as not to attract attention to himself, he slipped himself off of the collapsing piece of concrete that maybe once was a wall of the abandoned building they were all standing by. He swayed himself over to the only person he actually gave half a damn about in the sea of punk that were only punks because they thought it was cool.
“Veser. Don’t make huge scene, but there’s a pig comin’ this way. We gatta get.” He tugged softly on the silver haired boys shark themed hoodie. It even had a dorsal fin on the back. Veser pulled his goggles off his eyes to look over where the red head was looking. The sharks eyes found the man that Hanna had called a cop. He didn’t look that cop-ish to Veser at all. He was young -maybe late 20’s- with short black hair, a way too bright orange dress shirt, complete with a black tie that blew in the wind as the cop made his way across the street. Hanna found himself biting at his lip. “Veser. We got to go.” His voice came out as a harsh hiss.
“Doesn’t look like a cop.” Why was Hanna suddenly so damn nervous. He could usually keep his cool around pigs. He found an excuse for his fidgeting in his red head and grabbed onto it.
“Exactly how much weed do these kids have on them?” This cop was after him. He locked eyes with the man who was almost to them by now. He was heading toward Hanna. He searched his mind, trying to remember exactly what he had done this time. He had been trying to keep himself on the down low for a while now. Ever since a couple months ago when he had been caught with a bloody hammer and scratch marks all over himself and asleep in the bathtub in an abandoned house.
Of course he would have been able to explain what had happened to Worth or Veser or even some of the fake punks and they would have believed him. But telling a cop that you won a fight with a ware cat would just end you up in a crazy house. He decided just to play the silent game with them. They let him go two days later on lack of evidence.
He was stupid for falling asleep there. He should have crawled his ass back to Worth’s. He kicked himself in the ass mentally for that one. But other then breaking into a few houses in the last couple of months (they had all been abandoned and possibly vampire infested) he hadn’t done shit. All had been quiet.
Hanna shifted his weight and tugged hard on the sharks sleeve again. “Veser. Now. Please man.” He winced at how winy his own voice sounded. Veser shot him a look also noticing the change in the usually overly -stupidly- brave punks voice.
“But I was having fun.” The gray boy said. He smirked, grabbing a random green haired girls waist possessively. The girl just smiled back at him. Hanna just shook his head muttering ‘whore’ under his breath.
“Well, I’m gonna head back to Worth’s with or without ya.” He turned sharp on a combat booted foot hearing Veser groan dramatically.
“Fine, Hanna, fine. I’m come- shit”
Hanna stopped dead in his tracks. Why couldn’t he run? He truly hadn’t realized just how close the cop had been. He tried to play it of the best he could although he could feel his nerves tightening. He wondered if he was visibly shaking.
“Veser? You comin’ man? What’s wrong?”
“Hanna? Hanna Cross?” That wasn’t Veser voice. He dared himself to turn slowly, coming face to face with the cop. Fuck. Why the shit hadn’t he just ran? Instantly his much needed normalness came back to him. He cocked his head to the side and raised a red eyebrow up -the cop was a good 2 feet taller then the punk- at the man. He flicked the ball of his lip ring with the tip of his tongue before offering the cop a trade mark devilish smirk.
“Who wants to know?”
A small number of the fake punks had turned to watch; there pig detectors also ringing. A few of them ran (probably the ones with weed in their pockets). The cop let out a sigh that sounded almost sad.
“Hanna, I’ve been for you for almost seven years. Please don’t run.”
Seven years previous flashed behind the punks unchanging icy could gaze. Seven years ago he had ran away from home. Seven years ago he had watched both of his parents brutally murdered in front of his eyes. The memories changed into a red hot liquid that threatened to pour over and down his cheeks. But after seven years the red head had learned that tears do nothing and he was damn good at holding them back.
Hanna took one step away from the cop, earning another sigh.
“You a cop then?” his eyebrow was still raised. He crossed his arms over his chest and readied the muscles in his legs to be ready to run.
“I’m an investigator Hanna. One of the only people left on your parents case. You can trust me.” No he couldn’t trust him. He was a cop. And he really wished the man would stop saying his name.
“Does it make a difference?” Hanna challenged, his eyes narrowing. Why wasn’t he running?
“Of course it does. Look, Hanna, I just would like to talk with you if that’s okay. My name is Jayne Hart.” Jayne extended his hand expecting the punk to shake it but Hanna didn’t move. Couldn’t move.
“You really think I want to talk about how my parents were butchered in front of me to you!? Or to them?” he was glaring now. He was pissed off. Who the hell did this pig think he was? Jayne’s face fell. Hanna kept the same pissed off expression the best he could but for some reason the ‘investigators’ face made him regret being such a dick. No backing out now though, right?
“Sorry. Look Hanna forget I said-“ Hanna cut off the cops apologies as fast as he possibly could.
“No dude. Fuck you. I don’t wanna talk to you anymore.” Now his feet decided to move. He ran. Ran like he never ran in his life. He knew that the cop would follow so he didn’t have to worry about putting Veser or the drugged up fakes in any danger at least. He shot down an alley he had been down many times before. The cop was on his heels (damn fucker was fast). But Hanna knew these streets. He knew how to get away. And with those few too cocky for his own good thoughts the cop grabbed hold of his fluffy red Mohawk and then his stick skinny arm using both as handles to try and push the punk to the ground.
Hanna punched (Probably not the best idea to try to punch a cop in retrospect) blindly. One of his fist hit home. He heard Jayne swear and threw his skinny body into a half fallen over fence. Hanna cussed back as his wrists were grabbed and a knee was on the backs of his legs. Restraint.
Hanna’s mind spun. The cop was saying things but he couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything.
Hanna spat off a line of curses the he couldn’t hear. He could here a bit of his own muffled voice but nothing else. He tried kicking but the cops legs wouldn’t let him move. He coughed feeling like his throat was to tight to breath. It was painful. Was the pig choking him? He couldn’t tell. The cop was saying something else. Hanna felt himself shaking and. . .God, was he crying? Yes. There was the red hot liquid from earlier that had somehow beat Hanna for the first time in almost seven years. They had breached the barrier of his body and now poured over his cheeks and onto the broken asphalt beneath his face.
Suddenly his face was off of the street. Jayne had cradled the punk and the rough feeling was replaced with a soft one as he pushed his face further into the too bright orange shirt. Hands moved on his back in an almost comforting way. Hanna went limp in the cops arm.
“Shhhh, Hanna. You’re having a panic attack. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Hanna.”
For some reason it didn’t bother him now to hear his name escape Jayne’s mouth in hushed whispers. It was actually strangely comforting mixed in with the circles being rubbed into his back.
After a while felt himself being lifted to his feet even though he was still limp and couldn’t really get his legs to work. “Wha- what’s goin’ on?” He asked, yawning.
“Were standing up. My legs were falling asleep and I didn’t want to join them in the middle of an ally.” The investigator replied. Hanna finally got his legs to work and then pushed the cops hands off of his back gently.
“Good idea. My butt was falling asleep.” He said flashing Jayne a smile and a shy laugh.
“So, the offer still stands.” Jayne braced himself for the onslaught of curses that was sure to spew from the punk. They never came. What fell from the red heads mouth was something that made the investigators chest hurt.
“Jayne, I cant just talk about them. What happened. It still hurts. After all this time it still hurts.” The punks eyes were cloudy and glued to ground and his tongue kept poking at his lip ring.
“We don’t need to talk about that, Hanna. We can talk about whatever you’d like. Let me take you out for dinner. The place is you’re choice.” He watched the punks face light up at the mention of food and smiled. And it was true, Worth had of course had food at his house but that stuff only consisted of beer and shitty TV dinners which weren’t very filling. Or healthy. He hadn’t had a real meal in so long. Not that the first place that popped into Hanna’s head was very healthy either. He looked up at Jayne who had an almost longing, holding-my-breath look on his face. Hanna sighed, running a hand lazily through his faux-Mohawk.
“I’m so gonna regret this.” he moaned. “But I’m fucking hungry. . .Could we stop at burger king? Maybe?” Jayne laughed. Hanna raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing, Hanna. Just thought you would pick somewhere more expensive. . .or dark.” Hanna decided to ignore the last part.
“You clearly haven’t seen how much food I can put down.” He grinned but stayed his distance from the investigator as they made their way to his car.
I'm de-Lurking and bringing my first Hanna fic with me. :3
Title: Poor thing doesn't have a tittle yet. :C
Characters: Punk!Hanna/Jayne(un!undead zombie)
Rating: Pg-13 as of now. Some cussing.
Summary: Hanna has been on the run ever since his parents were murdered seven years ago. One day a 'investigator' named Jayne finds him. I suck at summaries but beware that an adorable bromance WILL ensue.
Hanna saw the cop before anyone else had.
He had developed a sort of internal pig detector over his years of being on the run. Even if this particular swine wasn’t in his wolfs clothing at the moment, Hanna could tell. He could tell by the way the man walked, the way his eyes widened and then narrowed at the small group of punks that surrounded him, by the way he suddenly made a b-line towards them. Hanna could tell exactly what the man was.
Swiftly so as not to attract attention to himself, he slipped himself off of the collapsing piece of concrete that maybe once was a wall of the abandoned building they were all standing by. He swayed himself over to the only person he actually gave half a damn about in the sea of punk that were only punks because they thought it was cool.
“Veser. Don’t make huge scene, but there’s a pig comin’ this way. We gatta get.” He tugged softly on the silver haired boys shark themed hoodie. It even had a dorsal fin on the back. Veser pulled his goggles off his eyes to look over where the red head was looking. The sharks eyes found the man that Hanna had called a cop. He didn’t look that cop-ish to Veser at all. He was young -maybe late 20’s- with short black hair, a way too bright orange dress shirt, complete with a black tie that blew in the wind as the cop made his way across the street. Hanna found himself biting at his lip. “Veser. We got to go.” His voice came out as a harsh hiss.
“Doesn’t look like a cop.” Why was Hanna suddenly so damn nervous. He could usually keep his cool around pigs. He found an excuse for his fidgeting in his red head and grabbed onto it.
“Exactly how much weed do these kids have on them?” This cop was after him. He locked eyes with the man who was almost to them by now. He was heading toward Hanna. He searched his mind, trying to remember exactly what he had done this time. He had been trying to keep himself on the down low for a while now. Ever since a couple months ago when he had been caught with a bloody hammer and scratch marks all over himself and asleep in the bathtub in an abandoned house.
Of course he would have been able to explain what had happened to Worth or Veser or even some of the fake punks and they would have believed him. But telling a cop that you won a fight with a ware cat would just end you up in a crazy house. He decided just to play the silent game with them. They let him go two days later on lack of evidence.
He was stupid for falling asleep there. He should have crawled his ass back to Worth’s. He kicked himself in the ass mentally for that one. But other then breaking into a few houses in the last couple of months (they had all been abandoned and possibly vampire infested) he hadn’t done shit. All had been quiet.
Hanna shifted his weight and tugged hard on the sharks sleeve again. “Veser. Now. Please man.” He winced at how winy his own voice sounded. Veser shot him a look also noticing the change in the usually overly -stupidly- brave punks voice.
“But I was having fun.” The gray boy said. He smirked, grabbing a random green haired girls waist possessively. The girl just smiled back at him. Hanna just shook his head muttering ‘whore’ under his breath.
“Well, I’m gonna head back to Worth’s with or without ya.” He turned sharp on a combat booted foot hearing Veser groan dramatically.
“Fine, Hanna, fine. I’m come- shit”
Hanna stopped dead in his tracks. Why couldn’t he run? He truly hadn’t realized just how close the cop had been. He tried to play it of the best he could although he could feel his nerves tightening. He wondered if he was visibly shaking.
“Veser? You comin’ man? What’s wrong?”
“Hanna? Hanna Cross?” That wasn’t Veser voice. He dared himself to turn slowly, coming face to face with the cop. Fuck. Why the shit hadn’t he just ran? Instantly his much needed normalness came back to him. He cocked his head to the side and raised a red eyebrow up -the cop was a good 2 feet taller then the punk- at the man. He flicked the ball of his lip ring with the tip of his tongue before offering the cop a trade mark devilish smirk.
“Who wants to know?”
A small number of the fake punks had turned to watch; there pig detectors also ringing. A few of them ran (probably the ones with weed in their pockets). The cop let out a sigh that sounded almost sad.
“Hanna, I’ve been for you for almost seven years. Please don’t run.”
Seven years previous flashed behind the punks unchanging icy could gaze. Seven years ago he had ran away from home. Seven years ago he had watched both of his parents brutally murdered in front of his eyes. The memories changed into a red hot liquid that threatened to pour over and down his cheeks. But after seven years the red head had learned that tears do nothing and he was damn good at holding them back.
Hanna took one step away from the cop, earning another sigh.
“You a cop then?” his eyebrow was still raised. He crossed his arms over his chest and readied the muscles in his legs to be ready to run.
“I’m an investigator Hanna. One of the only people left on your parents case. You can trust me.” No he couldn’t trust him. He was a cop. And he really wished the man would stop saying his name.
“Does it make a difference?” Hanna challenged, his eyes narrowing. Why wasn’t he running?
“Of course it does. Look, Hanna, I just would like to talk with you if that’s okay. My name is Jayne Hart.” Jayne extended his hand expecting the punk to shake it but Hanna didn’t move. Couldn’t move.
“You really think I want to talk about how my parents were butchered in front of me to you!? Or to them?” he was glaring now. He was pissed off. Who the hell did this pig think he was? Jayne’s face fell. Hanna kept the same pissed off expression the best he could but for some reason the ‘investigators’ face made him regret being such a dick. No backing out now though, right?
“Sorry. Look Hanna forget I said-“ Hanna cut off the cops apologies as fast as he possibly could.
“No dude. Fuck you. I don’t wanna talk to you anymore.” Now his feet decided to move. He ran. Ran like he never ran in his life. He knew that the cop would follow so he didn’t have to worry about putting Veser or the drugged up fakes in any danger at least. He shot down an alley he had been down many times before. The cop was on his heels (damn fucker was fast). But Hanna knew these streets. He knew how to get away. And with those few too cocky for his own good thoughts the cop grabbed hold of his fluffy red Mohawk and then his stick skinny arm using both as handles to try and push the punk to the ground.
Hanna punched (Probably not the best idea to try to punch a cop in retrospect) blindly. One of his fist hit home. He heard Jayne swear and threw his skinny body into a half fallen over fence. Hanna cussed back as his wrists were grabbed and a knee was on the backs of his legs. Restraint.
Hanna’s mind spun. The cop was saying things but he couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything.
Hanna spat off a line of curses the he couldn’t hear. He could here a bit of his own muffled voice but nothing else. He tried kicking but the cops legs wouldn’t let him move. He coughed feeling like his throat was to tight to breath. It was painful. Was the pig choking him? He couldn’t tell. The cop was saying something else. Hanna felt himself shaking and. . .God, was he crying? Yes. There was the red hot liquid from earlier that had somehow beat Hanna for the first time in almost seven years. They had breached the barrier of his body and now poured over his cheeks and onto the broken asphalt beneath his face.
Suddenly his face was off of the street. Jayne had cradled the punk and the rough feeling was replaced with a soft one as he pushed his face further into the too bright orange shirt. Hands moved on his back in an almost comforting way. Hanna went limp in the cops arm.
“Shhhh, Hanna. You’re having a panic attack. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Hanna.”
For some reason it didn’t bother him now to hear his name escape Jayne’s mouth in hushed whispers. It was actually strangely comforting mixed in with the circles being rubbed into his back.
After a while felt himself being lifted to his feet even though he was still limp and couldn’t really get his legs to work. “Wha- what’s goin’ on?” He asked, yawning.
“Were standing up. My legs were falling asleep and I didn’t want to join them in the middle of an ally.” The investigator replied. Hanna finally got his legs to work and then pushed the cops hands off of his back gently.
“Good idea. My butt was falling asleep.” He said flashing Jayne a smile and a shy laugh.
“So, the offer still stands.” Jayne braced himself for the onslaught of curses that was sure to spew from the punk. They never came. What fell from the red heads mouth was something that made the investigators chest hurt.
“Jayne, I cant just talk about them. What happened. It still hurts. After all this time it still hurts.” The punks eyes were cloudy and glued to ground and his tongue kept poking at his lip ring.
“We don’t need to talk about that, Hanna. We can talk about whatever you’d like. Let me take you out for dinner. The place is you’re choice.” He watched the punks face light up at the mention of food and smiled. And it was true, Worth had of course had food at his house but that stuff only consisted of beer and shitty TV dinners which weren’t very filling. Or healthy. He hadn’t had a real meal in so long. Not that the first place that popped into Hanna’s head was very healthy either. He looked up at Jayne who had an almost longing, holding-my-breath look on his face. Hanna sighed, running a hand lazily through his faux-Mohawk.
“I’m so gonna regret this.” he moaned. “But I’m fucking hungry. . .Could we stop at burger king? Maybe?” Jayne laughed. Hanna raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing, Hanna. Just thought you would pick somewhere more expensive. . .or dark.” Hanna decided to ignore the last part.
“You clearly haven’t seen how much food I can put down.” He grinned but stayed his distance from the investigator as they made their way to his car.