Fanfiction: Crossroads and Crosshairs (Life Is Strange 2/The Coffin of Andy and Leyley)

Nov 27, 2024 17:00

This fic startled as an idle question in my mind. Life Is Strange 2 and The Coffin of Andy and Leyley are both games about siblings on the run. What would happen if those siblings met?

When I started writing, this was swiftly replaced by a new and more urgent question: how could I get Sean out of this situation alive?

Title: Crossroads and Crosshairs
Fandom: Life Is Strange 2/The Coffin of Andy and Leyley
Rating: 14
Wordcount: 1,800
Summary: Sean Diaz meets Andrew and Ashley Graves, another pair of siblings on the run. Something is wrong with these siblings.


Another night, another crappy motel. At least the last residents of this room left behind a crumpled, half-full packet of cigarettes. Sean waits until Daniel is asleep before sneaking outside for a smoke.

There are two strangers already out there, leaning against the railing over the forecourt: a guy and a girl, talking closely. They’re young, maybe a few years older than Sean. Dark hair, striking eyes. They look like they could be siblings.

Wait. Are they strangers?

“I know you, right?” Sean asks, without thinking.

They both turn to look at him, so sharply that it kind of freaks him out.

“I mean-” What is he doing? “I mean, uh-”

Now that he’s really thinking about it, he remembers exactly where he knows these two from. A headline had caught his eye in the newspaper: MURDER SIBLINGS ON THE RUN. He’d thought for a moment that it was about him and Daniel. But the photograph had been of a brother and sister: dark hair, striking eyes.

He’s followed the story of Andrew and Ashley Graves since then. It’s probably stupid, but a part of him kind of felt like... maybe they’d understand him. Another pair of siblings on the run: maybe they were going through the same kind of shit. Maybe they were reading the articles about him and Daniel, thinking about the parallels. Maybe they were falsely accused, just like Sean and his brother.

With both of them staring him down like wolves, a second possibility occurs to Sean: maybe they actually did all that fucked-up stuff. Maybe these two killed their own parents, dismembered them and left traces of blood in the kitchen blender. And Sean’s just told them he knows who they are.

“Sorry,” Sean says. “I, uh, I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave.” He shouldn’t go back to his room with them watching, he doesn’t want to lead them back to Daniel, but if he can get away from the motel and come back later-

“I think you should probably come with us,” Andrew says.

Shit. “I - someone’s waiting for me, I really need to-”

Ashley pulls out a gun. “We really think you should come with us.”

-
They escort Sean into their motel room. Tie him to the headboard of one of the beds, because apparently these two carry rope around with them. Sean’s ‘maybe the Graves siblings were falsely accused’ hopes are dwindling fast.

Sean is dizzy with terror, his mind flitting around desperately, fixating on useless details. The fact that the sheets of the other bed are rumpled, that the one he’s tied to doesn’t look like it’s been slept in; he can’t think clearly enough to pin down why that’s bothering him. The strands of Ashley’s hair that have escaped her ponytail, framing her face, as she keeps the gun trained on him. The way the light catches Andrew’s eyes as he secures Sean’s ankles, the pale green of his irises vivid and clear.

They’re both really good-looking. Should he tell them that? Would that make them any less likely to murder him? Maybe not.

Maybe attractive is a better word. It’s not like they look like models or anything, but there’s a kind of draw to them. It struck Sean in the newspaper photographs as well, but it’s kind of overwhelming in person; there’s a weird intensity to their focus that just magnifies it.

Maybe it’s just that they feel dangerous. Sean’s mind is telling him there’s a threat here, don’t look away, and somewhere along the way his wires got crossed.

Anyway. Pretty fucking insane experience, being tied to a bed by two hot murderers. Sean is desperately trying not to get turned on, which will do nothing good for his ability to focus, and - that’s not how he wants to die, he doesn’t want Sean Diaz was found dead and inexplicably horny to somehow get back to Daniel-

Fuck. Daniel. What happens to Daniel if Sean dies here?

“Please,” Sean says, urgently. “My brother - he’s nine - it’s just us, he won’t have anyone to take care of him if-”

“Look,” Andrew says, “this’ll be easier if you don’t talk.”

“Easier for who?” Sean demands, his voice hiking up a little.

The gun’s been put away now that he’s been tied up, at least. Does that mean these two aren’t planning to kill him? Or does it just mean they’d prefer to shove a knife into his lungs?

Andrew looks over at Ashley. “You want me to set up the circle?”

Ashley bites her lip for a moment. Is she the person to appeal to, here? She didn’t seem to have any problem holding Sean at gunpoint earlier, though.

“I didn’t think you were so bloodthirsty,” she comments at last. “I don’t know whether to be proud or freaked out.”

“I’m not being bloodthirsty,” Andrew says. “I’m being pragmatic. This guy recognised us. We need more souls for your demon trinket thing. I thought you’d like this solution.”

Holy shit. This sounds extremely bad.

“It makes sense,” Ashley concedes. Fuck. “It’s just, you know, what about his brother?”

Andrew looks at her as if ‘maybe we don’t murder the nine-year-old’s sole caretaker?’ is the weirdest thing that anyone has ever said. “I didn’t think that was where you’d draw the line. I didn’t know you had a line.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I do not give a shit about this guy,” Ashley says, which is not especially promising. “But he’s someone’s big brother. I guess his brother probably gives a shit about him. You know?”

Something seems to soften in Andrew’s expression at that, just a tiny bit.

“I think it’s the wrong move to let him go,” he says. “But it’s your call. I guess I’m not exactly thrilled by the idea of more body disposal.”

Ashley gives a small, outraged gasp. “I bought some seasonings! It’ll taste way better next time.”

“Next time,” Andrew mutters, pressing a hand over his face. “Fine. We don’t have a kitchen here, anyway, so we’d need to figure something else out. It’d be a risk. But it might still be more risky if we let him talk.”

Sean decides he’s just not going to think too hard about that particular exchange.

“I won’t tell anyone you were here,” he says. “I swear. We’re - we’re in trouble with the cops as well; we don’t want them to know where we are. I’m not gonna start talking to them.”

“You’re in trouble with the cops?” Ashley echoes. “Some baby boy and his babier brother? What’d you do?”

Sean very much does not appreciate being called a ‘baby boy’, but she still has the gun, so it’s probably best to let it slide.

“Killed a cop in Seattle,” he says. He leaves out the false accusation part; it seems like maybe it’d be best to give the impression he can defend himself. But he adds, “He killed our dad,” because he doesn’t want to seem like someone who goes around murdering people for no reason.

Ashley puts her head on one side, looking at him like he’s a crossword puzzle that’s barely managing to hold her interest. “I guess you must have liked your dad.”

He’d thought she would understand family ties. It seemed to mean something to her, that Sean had a brother. He guesses the patricide slipped his mind.

“Please don’t kill me,” he says. He’s run out of things to say; that’s the only thought left in his head.

Ashley bursts out laughing at that. “He’s kind of cute, right?”

Andrew’s expression has been pretty much blank the entire time. It goes so dark, suddenly, that Sean nearly shits himself. That’s it. If he had any chance of getting out of this alive, it’s gone.

Ashley just laughs harder. “What, do you think I’m going to run off with him? I mean, like, bunny cute. Puppy cute. You can’t tell me it doesn’t feel good to hear him begging for his life.”

“It doesn’t feel like anything,” Andrew says. “I’m not into this stuff the way you are.”

“I’m sorry you’re sooooo normal,” Ashley says, rolling her eyes. “You’re missing out.”

“It’s not exactly normal to feel nothing, either,” Sean points out. It’s probably a bad idea to say this. But, honestly, he is sick of this shit, and these two are so fucking weird that he’s just given up on trying to find the right angle to approach them from. If he’s probably going to die here, he might as well say what’s on his mind. “A normal person would probably feel bad about it.”

Ashley presses a hand over her mouth in apparent delight. “He’s giving you shit, Andy!”

Andrew groans. “Are we killing this guy or not?”

“I’ll beg for my life as much as you like, if you let me go,” Sean says. “I can call you up every week and just plead down the phone.”

It’s not a serious offer; he just doesn’t have anything else to bargain with. But Ashley actually looks intrigued.

“Are you fucking serious, Ashley?” Andrew asks.

“I mean, if it’s going to mean something, there needs to be a real risk,” Ashley says. “If you miss a week, I might actually come after you.”

Sean hesitates at that. “Uh, I don’t have my phone. I threw it away so it couldn’t be tracked.”

Ashley smirks. “Sounds like you’d better work hard to make sure I get my call, then.”

She climbs onto the bed, grabs Sean’s wrist. He tenses up. But she just writes a phone number on his palm.

“You’d better not get off to this,” Andrew mutters in the background.

-
Sean shakes Daniel awake the moment he’s back inside their motel room. “Daniel, we have to go.”

“Sean?” Daniel asks, sleepy, confused. “What’s happening?”

Sean has no idea how to answer that question. I was abducted by murderers, and they only let me go because I promised to be pathetic on tap: probably not something the nine-year-old needs to hear.

Just another thing he doesn’t have anyone to talk to about. There are so many fucking things he can’t talk about.

He glances at the phone number on his palm.

He guesses there is now technically someone he can get in touch with. And he doesn’t have to worry about getting her in trouble, the way he does with Lyla.

She’s probably not going to be a sympathetic listener. But it’s better than nothing, maybe.

It’s worse than nothing. She and her brother are going to kill and eat him if he doesn’t call her every week. But it’s what he’s got.

“Where are we going?” Daniel asks, through a yawn.

“I don’t know,” Sean says. “Somewhere with a phone, I guess.”

crossovers, nemlei, life is strange 2, fanfiction, life is strange, fanfiction (really this time), the coffin of andy and leyley

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