Chapter Text
Hunted’s place was in the middle of fucking nowhere, because of course it was. They had never really trusted cities, with all the cameras, and all the people, and how “predators could be lurking around any corner” – their words, not hers. Cheated had told them that there were predators in the fucking woods too, but Hunted had said those predators didn’t hide as friends. Month’s ago, Cheated would have cried bullshit. Now, however …
Now, Cheated got it. And Cheated hated it. No one was fucking dumb enough to let a bear into their home. Wolves weren’t psychotic freaks with bright eyes and sharp smiles. And no one let a fucking panther into their fucking bed.
God, Cheated was a fucking idiot.
Despite being in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Hunted’s home was large, with plenty of rooms in case “one of you needs to hide”. Once more, their words, not hers. But from the looks of things, the others had been making use of the space provided. There was a room for Paranoid, just as neatly messy as the room Cheated remembered from collage days, and a nest that would put Hunted’s own nest to shame. Broken’s knit throws had been tossed over couches and chairs, there was a plethora of Smitten’s cookbooks on the shelves, and too many objects that only Opportunist would have the money or need to buy. The shelves were chock full of detective books from Skeptic, and Stubborn's training equipment was set up in a room, and when Cheated opened up the cabinets in the kitchen, Cold’s coffee cups were everywhere. The walls were decorated with Contrarian’s stupid art, and Hero’s souvenirs were prominent upon walls and shelves. And under it all, the warm wood and rustic appearance of Hunted’s natural tendencies brought the whole damn thing together.
Seeing it all made Cheated’s stomach twist, and not from the fucking pain. She had never visited. Country wasn’t Cheated’s style, and Hunted’s place barely had any electricity, much less internet. If it weren’t for the stitches in her side, and how everything fucking hurt all the damn time, she probably wouldn’t be here now.
Despite that, Hunted still had a room saved for her.
It was a nice fucking room too, with a big bed full of blankets, one of them clearly a heated one. There was a huge desk, and windows covered in curtains, and more electrical outlets than she had seen in the rest of the house combined.
Cheated stood there at the entrance of the room, hand gripped tight to the strap of her bag. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
Hunted stood right beside her, small as ever, staring at her with their too large eyes. “We all need places to run to,” they said, “and a den to lick our wounds.”
A part of Cheated wanted to say she didn’t have wounds to lick, but it’d be stupid to say. Hunted had to help her carry her bag here. There were fucking stitches keeping her together, and each breath hurt to take. So all she can do is let out a painful, harsh laugh at her own expense. Which she did. And it fucking hurt.
Hunted watched her. “Do you want help putting your things away?”
“Fuck no,” she said, and then, quieter, “Thanks, Hunted.”
“Of course. We are pack.”
Like that fucking meant anything to anyone who wasn’t Hunted, but it still made Cheated feel a bit better. Hunted slipped away, and Cheated stepped into her room, dragging her bag in after her. The door swung shut, and Cheated noted it that it opened inward, so it could be barricaded if necessary. Ages ago, she would have scoffed at such insurance. Right now, Cheated couldn’t help but be wearily grateful.
Damned thing did make her feel safer.
She didn’t have much to unpack. Stubborn had grabbed the essentials: clothing, toiletries, medications, and rice packs. Cheated hadn’t had the chance to go back to her apartment yet – she didn’t want to. The thought of going back there, to where it all happened, made her feel sick. She couldn’t go back. Not so soon, after all of it.
Which was why she was here, pushing past the pain of her stitches and her chronic aches, shoving away everything until her fingers brushed what was at the bottom of the bag. Her Nintendo. She nearly grabbed it so she could smash it against the floor.
Instead, she yanked her hand back as if bit, her stitches flaring like new. With a curse, Cheated grabbed the bag, bundled it tight, and shoved it under the bed where it and that damned Nintendo would never see the light of day again. She sat hard against the ground, and dragged in a deep, ragged breath.
“Heart,” she breathed, “lungs, liver, nerves. Heart, lungs, liver …”
Paranoid would have been proud, to see Cheated using Para’s own stupid mantra to pull herself away from the cliff of a panic attack. But the damned think works, and Cheated didn’t want to be in any more pain than she already was.
Thank fuck the rest of her gaming equipment was too big for Stubborn to bring. It sat instead at Cheated’s apartment, where she fully intended to leave it to rot. Good riddance. She didn’t need another reminder of her, when she had already left Cheated with so many scars that will never fully heal.
Fuck her. Fuck the games that had brought her to Cheated.
Fuck Razor.
By the time Cheated finally came out of her room, Hunted had already made both tea and food. It was a nice meal too, damn it, soft things Cheated could eat without pain. And for a while, they ate in silence. Just the scrape of fork and spoon against plate, the gentle burn of her stitches as she moved, and the familiar flare of pain in her joints. Then hunted lifted their mug to their lips, and Cheated’s brain snapped in a moment of recognition. It was a soft colored thing, made of soft grays and greens – the same one Paranoid had made when she was trying out pottery to calm her nerves.
Cheated’s lips twitched. “Looks like Para has been here often.”
“She comes when she needs to be away from the city and it’s watching eyes and hidden predators,” hunted said, like it’s a completely normal thing to say – and it was, for them and Paranoid both.
Which was why Cheated smirked and asked, “Kiss her yet?”
The look Hunted sent her was worth the pain her laughter brought. Cheated sipped from her tea after, the warmth of her mug solid against her palm. For the first time in a long time, she felt solid too. “How is Para doing?”
“She is doing well,” Hunted said, and there was pride in their voice, “I believe her pack leaders are pleased with her work, despite her worries. She has not had a major attack in months.”
“That’s good,” Cheated said. It had always amazed her how Para, timid, nerve-ridden, scared of her own shadow Paranoid, made it into the medical field. But when everything was terrifying, you learned to face your fears. Or something like that. Cheated didn’t know. She took another sip of tea, and asked, “And the others?”
“Hero is out of country,” Hunted said, “but I believe she intends to return as soon as she can. Smitten is planning on asking Damsel to marry him.”
Cheated whistled. “Surprised it took him this long. What’s the fucking hold up?”
“He wants it to be perfect.”
The predictable words made Cheated snort. “Of course it’ll be. Bastard always has luck on his side when it comes to romance.”
Hunted nodded. “Stubborn and Adversary have promised to fight each other for eternity, as pack. There is a date set. They plan to hold a ceremony.”
Cheated paused, her stomach lurching. For those two, fighting each other for eternity was as good as a fucking marriage proposal. She should have fucking known. Why hadn’t she heard about it? “Bet Smitty is delighted,” she said, “how’s Broken taking it?”
“He is happy for them,” Hunted said, and there is a smile on their face now, “he is with someone himself, so there is no need for the growing pack to hurt him.”
Cheated nearly slammed her mug down. “Not fucking Tower again, is it? I swear to fucking god if he got back with that egotistical bitch -”
“No,” Hunted said, “her name is Fury. She is … like Broken, in a way. Not a predator.”
“Thank fucking god,” Cheated breathed. She sagged into her seat, and set the mug carefully down onto the table. “One fucking Tower was enough for everyone.”
Hunted nodded, then continued their list. “Contrarian is in court again. They were caught vandalizing private property, and Opportunist has refused to pay their fees.”
“That’s a surprise,” Cheated muttered, picking up her fork to pock at her food, “usually the bastard loves to show off how high the ladder he’s climbed.”
“It was one of his buildings that Contrarian vandalized.”
“Ah. That explains it.”
“Opportunist is doing well in his pack,” Hunted continued, “as is Skeptic. He has solved a few cases with some help from a few anonymous tips.”
“Mhm,” probably from Opportunist. That guy had fingers in more pies then Cheated would know what to do with. “They kiss yet?”
“No.”
“Damn.”
Hunted gave off a low rumble – their version of a chuckle, and Cheated flashed them a faint smile in turn. “Cold,” Hunted continued, still rumbling, “has a new job: sky diving. It might last him a bit longer than some others.”
“Fingers fucking crossed,” Cheated said. But that was all of them, the whole damn flock, or pack, or whatever you wanted to call their stupid friend group. God. Cheated had missed so much while she’d been wrapped up with the stabby bitch. She scrapped her fork against her plate, staring down at the remains of her meal. “Sorry,” she said, sharp as the noise, “didn’t mean to miss out on so much.”
“You disappear for the chase, no matter what the chase is,” Hunted said, their voice soft, “We know this. We should have done a better job of checking in on you. We are sorry.”
She already knew that.
She had known that since she woke up in the hospital bed, and them coming in one by one to yell at her, or hold her, or cry over her. She’d known it since they’d all crowded into her room as soon as she had been allowed more than one visitor at a time. Cheated was well aware of how fucking sorry they were.
But she could be fucking sorry too. Sorry, for wasting so much fucking time with someone who put her in a hospital bed, when she could have been spending time with them instead.
“I know,” Cheated said, and then took a vicious bite of her food.
Hunted grabbed the dishes before Cheated could. It was hard to be bothered by that. Her tea was finished, and the food had made her warm and full. The pain was slowly, steadily, crawling its way back under her skin, tracing the lines of her stitches and curling around her joints. It would be time for her next dose of medications soon.
Hunted, of course, noticed the exhaustion. They moved to Cheated’s side. “I will get your warm packs ready. Go den. No predators will reach you here.”
She scoffed at that, but the consideration exhausted her all the more. “Fine,” she muttered, and pushed herself slowly out of her seat. “I’m going to bed.”
Hunted didn’t offer to assist, and Cheated didn’t ask for it. She wasn’t so fragile that she couldn’t manage a small walk with the pain knocking on her door. But Hunted did bring her water to swallow the pills, and a warm pack for her aches, before wishing her a goodnight and closing the door behind them. In the dark, she took her pills, and lay down upon the bed, the pack pressed tight against her side.
The bed was soft, the blankets thick, and the pillows plentiful. None of it erased the prominent absence of a warm body by her side.
Two Months Ago
“This bitch is such a fucking cheater!” Cheated roared, at no one and everyone, words rebounding right back at her from the walls of her room.
She was at home, in her gaming room, the hum of electronics a familiar background noise. Her character lay dead on the screen – a victim of pvp again. To the same fucking player again. Cheated knew that, because the username had been the same: RAZOR<3. The same damn username that had been popping up across the various games Cheated played, winning against her every. Fucking. Time.
And Cheated couldn’t figure out how.
Cheated knew games. They were her work, her livelihood, her love. She beta tested for other developers, had her own game in development, and played pretty much everything for fun. She was a good player – one of the best. So when some rando started appearing and beating her in everything, Cheated had every right to be suspicious and pissed off.
Always the same person. Always the same username, no matter the game. RAZOR<3.
A part of Cheated wanted to send a really, really nasty message into the game chat. But she – through a tremendous effort of willpower – managed not to. With the tightly woven knit of her work and her life, Cheated did her best not to send any nasty messages to anyone … unless she was sent one first. And in that case, the other person was practically asking for it. But RAZOR<3 had not done that, so Cheated was left yelling and frothing at her screen.
The yelling and frothing only helped a little bit.
Growling, Cheated resurrected her character, and made her way back to her corpse. She swore to god if that bitch was spawn camping her – but no. There was no one there. Cheated was able to pick up her dropped loot in peace.
At least, until something at the very bottom of her screen dinged. A message from another player. Frowning, Cheated clicked on it.
RAZOR<3:
Hiya Birdie.
That was fun. We should do it again.
Cheated’s eye twitched. What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Growling, her fingers flew across the keyboard, clattering out a response.
BirdVoice11:
What the fuck do you want?
RAZOR<3:
To play with you of course.
I’ve had a lot of fun! :>
BirdVoice11:
Well I haven’t!
I don’t fucking enjoy constantly dying!
RAZOR<3:
Noooooo?
But I thought we were bonding :<
BirdVoice11:
LIKE HELL WE WERE!
You were cheating!
RAZOR<3:
I wasn’t
I would neeeveeeer
BirdVoice11:
Like fuck you wouldn’t!
You were So Cheating!
RAZOR<3:
Was noooooot
I was just having some fuuuun
Cheated’s eye twitched again. A part of her wanted to close the chat box and leave RAZOR<3 to rot. Honestly, who the fuck proclaimed they weren’t cheating while typing in a way that deliberately undermined what they were saying? Not even Opportunist was that bad at lying. It would be better to close the chat box. But Cheated hadn’t lost an online argument yet, and she wasn’t going to now.
BirdVoice11:
You’re such a bad liar, cheater
I know you’re cheating
And I’ll fucking prove it too
RAZOR<3:
Looking forward to it Birdie <3
Kill you tomorrow!
Another ding. RAZOR<3 was no longer online, leaving her with the official last word in, and it left Cheated seething, hissing furiously between her teeth. She typed a “FUCK YOU” back into the chat, sent it, then closed it with a clack of the keyboard. Anger kept her warm, thrumming hot through her chest. Fucking Razor. Cheated would prove the bastard on the other end of the screen was cheating, if it was the last thing she did.