PennyBassett Fanfiction

[Kathy0]

Wow. This is so good. You have a real gift dear!

[Katie10]

Pleaseeeeee post soon!

[PennyBassett]

Sorry, this is a shorter chapter! I was writing it and wanted to go longer, but I ran out of time, and knew it would be a little longer before I could publish it, so I'll give you this one first. Thank you for the compliments! They make me happy.

Chapter 27!

Buck had talked about his time with Mr. Skint. We’d taken him to counseling, and the few times I was invited in were the times he was instructed to talk about this father figure’s abusive tendencies. As Katrina and I followed Detective Polehaus for hours, as we parked in a hotel parking lot, as we waited inside our car hand in hand, Buck’s descriptions were playing through my mind.
It hurt. And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d so scared. Knowing where Buck is was my job. When I didn’t fulfill the expectations, the job threw at me, I blamed myself. I didn’t know how to deal with those emotions.
“I should have stayed- home,” I forced out, my head pressed against the steering wheel. Katrina said something, but I don’t remember what. My heartbeat drowned out any comprehension of my surroundings. I tried to follow the exercise protocol I’d been taught a long time ago, but the only thing I could hear was my stupid heartbeat. The only thing I could see was that dark, discoloured orb behind my eyelids. When I opened my eyes, everything was so blurred from tears it made my head hurt. The only thing I could feel was Katrina’s hands latched onto mine.
“He’ll be okay. He’s going to fine.”
Those words felt so empty. She was lying. She didn’t know if he was alright. He could be dead. I chocked on my own sobs. I hadn’t had an anxiety attack in months. What about that situation had suddenly made one necessary?

Eugene hadn’t had an anxiety attack in months. The last one was... after he had to go scuba diving during the flooding last summer. He’d pushed it off, but apparently, the façade collapsed once he got in his car, and he could call me. This was different. I’d never seen him have an attack because he was worried about someone else. So, I did what I usually did. Held his hand, told him to breathe, tell him it was going to be fine. I hated that we just had to wait. The officers had gone into the hotel, instructing us to stay inside until they said otherwise. It was nerve-racking. I think. Sometimes it’s hard to remember just how scary it was. I know intellectually I was scared, but my life now is too hard to compare with what it used to be. Because right now, I’m terrified for my son, and I don’t think there’s hope this time.

[Katie10]

Please write more soon!! Agghh!

[PennyBassett]

Guys, I really love this chapter. So get ready. It's also super long. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 28

We strolled into the hotel lobby, and I led the way up to the front desk. A tired desk attendant with dreadlocks and a nose ring perked up when we came in.
“What’s this about?” She asked, a little fear clinging to her voice.
“We just need to ask you a few questions, if that’s alright.”
“Sure.”
“Good. Would’ve made a difference if it wasn’t. Were you working here five hours ago?”
“No… my shift started about two hours ago.”
“Alright. Well, it’s a long shot, but did someone named Skint come in?”
“Like, did he purchase a room? It’ll say on the computer.”
“Yeah. Yeah, check that.”
She nodded and typed a name into the computer.
“Um… yep. There he is. Jedediah Skint.”
“Really?” I was honestly shocked. My long shot had worked. Was Skint really this careless? He seemed like such an airtight person before. It made me slightly suspicious, but I took comfort in the fact that he probably didn’t know about Buck’s phone. Unless he wanted us to come up for some reason.
I motioned for the three other officers to follow me, and we piled into the elevator. It was silent all the way up. Most of the men around me had never been assigned such a serious mission, and I could sense their tension. I was determined to keep my cool though. I unlatched a water bottle from my belt and handed it to Martin. He nodded slightly in understanding. I wanted him to care for Buck. I knew his heart, as well as his bravery. If anything happened, he wouldn’t be the kind to draw and fire without thinking. The elevator dinged as we hit the fifth floor. I exited first, and the trio behind me followed. I knew I’d need my gun, and my hand was already hovering behind it. As we stepped down the dim hallway, my heart rate sped with excitement.
'I’ve missed this so much.'
Signaling again to the companions, I said a quick prayer, then turned the door handle.



----------------
Buck's POV

I woke up, covered in perspiration, panting hard. My limbs were far past numb and my head pounded. From what I could see, moonlight poured in through the kitchen window. I strained to see to the bed in front of where I was tied up. Once my eyes had adjusted, I saw the covers move up and down in a peaceful cycle. I coughed, the gag in my mouth making it go dry. I wanted water so badly. I tried to remember what’d happened. He’d hurt me, then tied me to the chair. I went to sleep fast. Had he drugged me again? My stomach ached. I was hungry from the strain of travel and waiting. I squinted once I realized the red glowing from across the room was a clock. It read,
‘3:30 AM.’
I suddenly felt very terrible, realizing I wasn’t at home where I should have been, or where I was twenty-four hours ago. Were they coming for me? Had my phone led them to where I was being held. Held. I just wanted to be held. I wanted to be back at home with Eugene and Katrina, safe in the arms of new normality. Coughing again, I thought of Eliza. How we were supposed to pick her up that day at three. Twelve hours. He had twelve hours to be rescued and be brought back to safety. I sat there for another hour, growing restless with my surroundings and more unclean with every sour breath. My lungs felt like they were buried in dust, and coughing didn’t help. My nose was long since clogged, and slimy rounds of mucous were slipping down my throat. I didn’t care anymore. I wanted to sleep, but everything hurt too much. I shifted to the right, and rope jabbed into my bruised side. My face throbbed from punches, and as a breeze from the open window caressed my face, I knew my forehead was split open. My tongue felt up to the inside of my bottom lip and a drop salty blood landed on it. I coughed some more, disliking the taste. I thought about waking up Mr. Skint like I used to. Like I used to when I was five and would get scared of the dark.
I would wake up in the middle of the night and fear the slightest noise of breaking bark, or barking dogs. Heart pounding, I’d creep down the short hallway to Mr. Skint’s bedroom. Silently turning the cold metal knob, and tiptoeing in, my mind calmed down as I was pulled closer to safety. I’d tread over to my guardian’s bed, where he could always be found with the smell of cigarettes and that weird cheap cologne. I’d poke his shoulder and whisper,
“Misser Skint?” For as long as it took for him to open those beautiful, terrible navy eyes and ask me what was wrong. After a while, he knew what was wrong, and just slid over to the other side of the bed. I’d jump up onto the soft mattress and snuggle up to his chest, the cotton of his t-shirt warming my cheek.
I popped my neck, wondering how I’d ever felt so safe with him. When did he stop loving me? Was it when he found a friend in alcohol? Maybe when I flipped him off at age nine? The first time he hit me? The answer was really simple. Katrina had been wrong. Mr. Skint had loved me. He still did. But he liked being in control. So, when I ever showed the slightest sign of disobedience, it reminded him that one day we’d be where we were now. He knew that rebellious boy he had raised would grow into a rebellious teen. A teen that could hit back. I almost felt bad for him lying there, but unforgiveness was still gnawing at the back of my neck. He had, after all, hurt me. He’d hurt me badly. And even if he did feel out of control, he must’ve liked the sport of it. But maybe control was a game. A game he always won.
The silence of my thoughts was shattered against the door across the room that creaked open and flicked on the light. The lights weren’t very bright, but the dimness was still disorienting and didn’t help my headache. My heart leaped when I saw several police officers step in and come to me. My gag was immediately removed and I was untied and un-taped. With an officer’s hand on my back, I gulped down the liquid from the heavy water bottle that he’d held up to my lips. My eyes didn’t leave Skint’s bed. He sat up before my throat felt better again. The officer with the water helped me to the floor and told me to stay there, his hand reassuringly holding my shoulder. As I sat with my legs outstretched, my limbs erupted with pins and needles. I bit my lip to keep from making a verbal announcement of pain. Feeling safe under the protection of the officers who stood in front of me, I kept staring at Skint. He’d silently stood up and glanced over to where I had been. Acceptance of failure flashing across his eyes. Detective Polehaus aimed his gun,
“Put your hands up, Mr. Skint. You’re under arrest.”
A tear ran down my cheek as I had waited so long to hear those words. I felt faint as my tormentor was clasped in handcuffs and marched pushed out of the room, officers at either shoulder. I was helped up and asked if I wanted to take a shower. I nodded gratefully, swallowing my tears until I was in the bathroom and turned on the shower in an empty daze. Once the water was loud enough, I fell to the floor, buried my face in my arms, and sobbed.
After I had showered and clothed, I was wrapped in a blanket, and directed downstairs, secure in the arm of an officer. I couldn’t have known I’d grow to fear that kind of person.
We got outside, and comfortable spring night time greeted us, as well as flashing red and blue lights and the commotion of news reporters and onlookers. I hadn’t expected so many people. I was tempted to cover my head with my blanket, as cameras flashed around us. I was guided across the asphalt parking lot to an ambulance, where a medic took me inside. I turned back to the two officers and smiled a slight thank you, before being taken into the white and red truck, whose lights added to the surrounding blinking display. Once inside the vehicle, I was gently told to sit on the black cushioned cot and take off my shirt. I did as she said, and was immediately inspected for infections, concussion, drug intake, and lots of other things. Another medic took notes from the corner. He looked concerned. I didn’t care. I was tired and so close to being able to sleep again.
“Can I sleep on the way home?” I asked, as the medic who’d earlier introduced herself as Nora, finished taking my blood.
“That’s up to your guardians.”
“What?”
“We don’t need to monitor you anymore. We’ll give your results to your guardians and the medications you’ll need to take.”
“But then how am I getting home?”
“They’re taking you home.”
“But… they’re here?”
“Of course. They keep asking to see you.” She wrote a few things down on my file and then handed it to me. “Okay. You’re good to go. Eugene and Katrina are waiting outside.”
My heart pounded. I wasn’t sure why, but I was so excited. Heh. There would be times when seeing them would mean so much more…
Nora’s assistant brought me back out to the parking lot. We walked by more reporters and cameras (how they got there I still didn’t know) and up to the couple that loved me more than anyone ever had. Eugene was wearing a t-shirt, a rare event, and Katrina was buried in what was obviously Eugene’s sweatshirt. I couldn’t help but run to them. As I fell into Katrina’s arms. All I could say through tears was,
“Don’t let me go. Please don’t let me go.”

[Katie10]

Heart warming and so sad!

[Kungfunaomi]

THIS THO.
This chapter was well done! Or well baked. Or well boiled. Or well sauteed.

[Jo March]

Sooooo GOOD!!!!! GREAT JOB!!!!!!!!!!!

[PennyBassett]

Guys. We're so close to this being over. 2 more chapters! That is, 2 more chapters in the prologue. That's right. There's more to come. But don't worry about that right now. Enjoy Chapter 29! (Evil Laughs in the background)

I woke up as we pulled into the garage. It was 7:30 and the quick glimpse of daylight I caught told me that the sun was already rising. I wasn’t tired enough to fall back asleep. I had always been a morning person. Katrina woke up when the car stopped. We slowly got out of the car and piled back into the house. Eugene looked half dead.
“I’m going to bed,” he mumbled after hugging me again.
Katrina and I sat down in the living room, too tired to say anything, to awake to sleep. It felt so good to be back home. I glanced over to the kitchen to find my bowl from last night still sitting there.
“What did the file I gave you say?”
“Nothing troubling. Just some medications and checkup dates.”
“Okay. What time are we picking up Liz?”
She glanced at the clock.
“We’ll leave here about 2:40.”
“Okay.”
“Hm. We should get breakfast. Are you hungry?”
“Yeah. But I don’t want to get up.”
“Mhm. Okay. I’ll-”
“Wait, no. See, you got less sleep than I did. So, I should make breakfast.”
“Oh really? What would you make?”
“…toast?”
“Do you know how to make toast?”
“Very funny.”
“Go ahead. Make some toast.”
I stood up, then turned back to her.
“What were you gonna make?”
“Omelets.”
I sat back down on the couch and she went to the kitchen eagerly. Suddenly realizing the uncomfortably of my clothing, I ran upstairs and changed. Before coming back down I poked my head into Eliza’s room. The few days she’d been here had left the area a little disheveled. My first inclination was to straighten it, but I decided not to, remembering my first few days in the house. How every ounce of the place looked spotless. It felt more like I was staying in a hotel than a room, and I was always hesitant to mess anything up, wondering whether the house always looked this nice, or if my new guardians were trying to make a good impression. They were trying to make a good impression.
A half hour later we were back on the couch eating omelets and watching Sherlock. Sherlock was the show that met both Katrina and I’s TV preferences. Katrina liked the characters and the acting and thought Eugene looked like Benedict Cumberbatch. (I disagreed) I liked the mystery side of things. The crimes and such. It was the perfect middle ground.
As the ending credits began to play, Katrina flipped off the TV. I turned and looked at her. After that cliff-hanger, I’d assumed we’d watch another episode.
“I think we should talk through this,” she said, playing with her sweatshirt strings. I almost laughed aloud. She was such a teenager sometimes.
“Talk about what?” I asked, light-heartedly.
“What happened to you.”
“Oh- that.” I looked at the floor. “I- I don’t wanna talk about that.”
“Okay. That’s fine. We can always go back for another counseling session.”
“What’s there to talk about anyway?”
“You haven’t told us what happened. You were pretty upset…”
A tight feeling fell into my stomach. I couldn’t talk. I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to just sit there. Arms wrapped around my stomach. Morning sunlight highlighting our living room floor.
“Buck?”
“He came here. He- he knocked on the door and drugged me I guess so I’d get in the car. We drove to the hotel, he beat me and tied me up.”
A small sigh of pity came from her lips.
“For how long?”
“I- don’t know… a couple hours I guess. Then the officers came in and arrested him.”
“What can I do to help?”
“…not talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe not ever.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to sit here and watch Sherlock until my eyes fall out. I want to see Elizabeth again. I want to be her big brother. I want to watch her grow up. I want to graduate high school without worrying about where I’ll live once I turn eighteen.”
“Hm. Buck, you’re going to college when you turn eighteen. You’ll live in a dorm room. Unless it’s a holiday. Then you’ll come home and play with your sister and argue with your dad about the history of the Aztecs and sit down with your mom to watch Sherlock.”
I tried to speak for a moment, but the words seemed to stick to my tongue. What was she saying?
“Buck. After we pick up Eliza today we’re going to pick up my mom, Leonard, and Everett from the airport. And then we’re going to go out for dinner and get to bed early because tomorrow morning we have a court time to adopt you and Elizabeth.”
Countless emotions pummelled me at once. No words. Just contradicting feelings. There was the nagging bite of nervousness. The twisting wrench of shock. The uncontrolled waterfall of bittersweet joy. Without warning or comprehension tears fell and then sobs. I’d never smiled while crying before and it was weird until I looked up and saw that Katrina’s expressions matched my own. My sobs increased as she pulled me into a hug that I didn’t have to worry about ending because she would always be there to bring me back into her embrace.

[Kungfunaomi]

Hahaha Eugene looks like Benedict Cumberbatch.
Ooooh! Leonard and Everett! That will be cool!

[PennyBassett]

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/805722189560701814/

[Jo March]

Oh. My. Gosh. This is so amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Kungfunaomi]

Sorry for hijacking your thread again, Penny. This is where everyone is!

Yo you guys. There is this awesome website with a few thousand articles about writing. The lady is a Christian and a great writer! Her stuff is super useful! I thought that since we are all fanfiction peoples we might be working a little harder to improve our writing skills!
https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/resources/

[Jo March]

OH thank you sooooo much!!!!!!! This will be so helpful to a dear friend!!!

[PennyBassett]

This looks awesome! Hijack anytime you want!

[Katie10]

Thx that was a good chapter what are you going to do after you finish this?

[PennyBassett]

I'm gonna start writing the series I wrote this series for.

[Katie10]

I'm gonna start writing the series I wrote this series for.

That s funny. I'll be excited to read it.

[Kungfunaomi]

I'm gonna start writing the series I wrote this series for.

Wait what?

[PennyBassett]

That's right. The only reason I wrote this series is to write another one. Bwahahahaaha! Context is key.