[align=center][div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 125%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; color: black"]
— when tara mentioned she was going to flintlock to see thomas, part of him had hesitated. part of him considered asking if he could go with her and finn. the other part of him let him smile shortly and wish her safe travels. tell eddie that he said hello. closing the door as she left, mickey stood in silence. only then did he feel the weight that came whenever he was alone. his gaze remained on the door a moment longer. he clenched his jaw shortly, breathing a deep sigh through his nose. then he turned away, eventually seating himself on the couch.
he had been keeping himself busy lately. it looked like he hardly had time to himself, anymore. he was always either at the clinic working alongside lucerne or instead filling his spare time surrounded by finn or tara. it was rare to see him alone nowadays. perhaps a part of him knew and failed to admit that the relentless work ethic hadn’t been without reason. his gaze swept around the silent living room, eventually lowering his gaze to the coffee table. it wasn’t right to do, and he knew that-- though sometimes it was easier to busy oneself with work than to confront painful thoughts.
he had been getting better. he had a good life, and he knew that. that only made him feel more guilt for feeling the way he did. anyone else with his life would’ve felt grateful, happy. yet there were moments mick had to himself where, beneath the pride of his work, he felt like his seams still weren’t completely together anymore. he had his happy ending, at least he was sure this would be the rest of his life -- and he felt guilty because of the dark thoughts that plagued him from time to time when he knew he had it much better than others.
knocking on the door brought him back to reality, blinking in surprise. he didn’t expect anyone to come around. he passed it off as someone probably wanting to see tara, or someone seeing if he could head back to the clinic.. with a short breath he stood up from the couch, brushing himself off to look slightly more presentable before he opened the door. needless to say, he was shocked by the sight in front of him.
“green.”
it sounded almost like more of a question. what was he doing here? his gaze wandered towards green’s torso. what had happened to him? the younger man was a sorry sight, looking damaged enough just by looking into his eyes - let alone looking at the blood that clung to his shirt. he didn’t say anything, didn’t ask anything at first, as he opened his door for green. he stepped aside enough to let green through. “here, come in.” he ushered green in without even a second thought. worried - even scared - as he was, he looked so carefully composed. he figured the last thing green needed was worried, sympathetic eyes.
“make yourself comfortable on the couch. i’ll grab my supplies.” with that he wandered towards the kitchen, and his mind was slowly trying to piece together the sorry sight in front of him. green was hurt; the man who least deserved to be injured or harmed. his mind flashed images as he searched in the cupboard for his supplies, grabbing the bag. he struggled to put the pieces together. he thought of the time he saw mateo one night, washing blood from his hands as he thought he was alone. mickey hadn’t questioned it. he failed to do anything about it. “green isn’t like himself anymore. something’s wrong” people had noted to him about his past friend. he hadn’t gone to green about it because he hadn’t thought it was his place; he wasn’t his friend anymore. green, mateo… he didn’t let himself linger on the thought as he wandered back to the living room.
green’s friend wouldn’t do that to him. surely, as much of a monster as mateo was, he wouldn’t go so far as to hurt his only friend, his best friend. mickey wished that was true.
“alright.” setting the bag on the coffee table, he dug around in it. in the silence, he considered asking what happened, why it happened. perhaps part of him didn’t want to know the answer, scared he already knew what had happened. as he rummaged through the bag for a few supplies, he casually said, “take your shirt off, please.” he didn’t realize just how difficult that simple request would be for green.
This was the year that he did not see coming.
It was a year that was supposed to begin with ebullience and joy. Greenie had once been a personable face, a man who was never seen without the kindest of smiles, the most trusting of hearts and an attitude so keen and optimistic. He was like the sunshine on a balmy day; ever-so-warm and forgiving. But, instead, it shook Green out of complacency. It brought upon him a horror unimaginable, a fear ignited within which would linger with him forever. His lungs were flooded within this storm, and Green began to wonder whether he would be able to swim away or if he had no choice but to drown.
Some storms could change the skyline, the sky clouded and shrouded with so much grey that the horizon seemed nonexistent. Green could see nothing but darkness, swathed within the murky sky, thrown around by the violence of the treacherous waves. They hurt him. They hurt him until he felt like crying but nothing could come out. Green was drowning in his thoughts, silenced by violence as he was left resorting to a hand clasped across his mouth to muffle the sounds of his choking sobs.
But, some storms could change the skyline, the sky once ominous and glum would only be temporary as every storm would pass; Green had to be lucky enough to keep his head above the water for long enough to endure and survive. The storm would leave patches of cerulean among passing clouds, white lined with the most glorious of sunshine eagerly dancing out from behind. In the aftermath, an eerie calm would settle across the sea, waves slow and steady as it breathed in and out. In. And out. In. And out with relief.
After all of the destruction and deluge, blue skies looked stark against battered skin. Wounds dark like the brooding storm that’d left him dead but still breathing. But, the passing storm left the skies clearer to see. The slightest glimpse of hope. But, the problem was that the clear skies would only be temporary; a storm would always find itself haunting the seas again like a ghost.
The turbulent wind tended to be silent, only wailing its cries upon collision. As the storm prevailed, it cried with defeat and longing as it tore across heaving waves, as it crashed against the face of a cliff which stood unwavering, barely. But, Green could see as the rubble from those cliffs collapse and settle within the depths of the sea. No one noticed as it crumbled apart but as he stared vacantly, he could only think of the first time he heard the darkness in Mateo's voice, the very moment that Green himself began to crumple apart.
What was he doing here? His eyes were framed with purple and blue as his sleep-deprived gaze stared up at the front door with despair. There came a time where Green could see clearly enough to realize that he needed help. If he remained silent then he would be as good as dead. Green understood how Mateo worked now; he killed people when they were no longer useful to him. How long would it be until Green was next?
He exhaled a slow and shaky breath, bloodied hand clasped across the space just below the cage he called his ribs, as he stared at the face that opened the door. He could have dealt with this on his own - he was used to it by now - but this laceration was deep. This laceration really did need stitches.
Lips were parted ever-so-slightly, silenced by the appearance of the man. Green knew that they’d not really interacted very much for some time, but he had to chase away the cobwebs that’d lingered for too long. He didn’t say anything as Mickey lowered his gaze to see the blood on his shirt and the blood on the hand that seemed like it was the only thing holding himself together. His gaze subconsciously shifted around, paranoia overwhelming, before Green finally stepped into Mickey’s home, eyes lingering on the lock which Mick left untouched.
❝ Make yourself comfortable on the couch- ❞ Green’s gaze followed Mick into the kitchen before Green shuffled wordlessly towards the couch, taking a seat with a pained groan. Bottom jaw wobbled, trying to blink back the tears of a broken man. He could tell Mickey now. He could tell him everything, but words clung at the back of his throat. Imagine that kind of truth staring one dead in the mouth with a heart so hollow and defeated.
He took a deep breath to recompose himself, smiling feebly as Mickey walked back into the living room. ❝ Take your shirt off, please. ❞ Green clenched his jaw suddenly, visibly hesitating. Gaze slowly raised to look at Mickey before he swallowed hard, moving to remove his shirt. And there, engraved across pale skin with patches of fading bruises, were an assortment of scars littered across his body. Many had healed over. Others were newer. Green looked ashamed of himself, gnawing down on his lip - almost visibly distressed - as he shifted uncomfortably where he sat.
❝ I’m so… clumsy sometimes- ❞ He tried to explain meekly, nervously, with a laugh so painfully void of joy. ❝ Such an idiot. ❞ He avoided looking towards Mick, fearing that if he did then he would crumble and fall. His heart slammed wildly against his chest; Mickey was going to question the questionable scars, wasn’t he? Green’s smile faltered and then finally faded, swallowing hard before turning his head away.
It was interesting that people began to name storms so that they could remember them beyond the wreckage. So that they could make sense of the devastation. It would be the only way that Green would forever remember Mateo after this.
[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family:verdana; font-size: 7px;"][spoiler=tags :: updated 03/06] basics.
✫ vernon jeremiah green // only known as green or greenie
✫ he doesn't introduce himself as vernon
✫ male // he/him
✫ twenty four // ages real time // born twenty first april
✫ leader of northstar district
✫ stepped up as leader - twentieth april 2039
appearance.
✫ faceclaim - taron egerton
✫ voice claim - taron egerton
✫ family originally comes from llanfairpwllgwyngyll in wales
✫ has a mixed british accent with a welsh and american twang
✫ 5'10ft // lean yet well-built from working out
✫ soft blue eyes and dirty blonde hair
✫ physical health - 70%
¬ current injuries: he's gotten a series on unexplained injuries all over him.
✫ mental health - 50%
¬ he's turned into a shell of the man he used to be; paranoid, anxious and visibly distressed with an apparent change in character.
personality.
✫ fundamentally he has a good heart // humble
✫ very assertive // does what he can to benefit northstar
✫ has a good set of morals // cares for people unconditionally
✫ very relaxed and composed with self-assurance and confidence
✫ incredibly complacent and laid back unless he's fighting for his cause
✫ massive daredevil // is very into extreme sports
✫ fearless, stupidly so // doesn't mind risking his own life
✫ generally easy to get on with, it's difficult to dislike him
✫ doesn't think into the future // only thinks about the present
✫ dependable and very loyal to his friends
relationships.
✫ david green x cassandra griffiths // both are deceased
✫ only child // his biological father died before he was born
✫ green was orphaned when he was nine
✫ fostered by caroline and steve miles
✫ both his foster parents died when green was eleven
✫ his chihuahua and pug, midas and ginnie, are basically his children
✫ doesn't really label his sexuality // comfortable with who he is
✫ formerly dated fallon rude
✫ formerly dated paige montgomery
✫ formerly had a brief fling with winifred maddison
✫ has a daughter named felicity montgomery
interaction.
✫ storage // playlist // pinterest
✫ physically: hard // mentally: medium
✫ his weapon of choice is a bat, yet he only has it for defense
✫ also has a bow and arrow, but uses it for recreation
✫ much prefers to run away // is exceptional at parkour
✫ very diplomatic and much prefers mediation rather than fighting
✫ dislikes confrontation yet will fight if need be // not a fan of close-ranged attacks
✫ foster parents taught him self-defense
✫ living on the streets turned him into a good fighter
[/spoiler]
[align=center] I'LL EAT UP ALL YOUR PAIN, TAKE IN ALL THE BLAME
[div style="width: 400px; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; font-size: 5pt; line-height: 1; letter-spacing: 4.2px; word-spacing: 1.9px; margin-bottom: 5px;"]BE THAT SOMEONE TO COMPLAIN TO — NOTES.
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— purposeful hands swifty plucked a few supplies, holding solutions and bandages as he rummaged through his bag. he absently took note of the sound of green removing his shirt for him, yet showed no sign of acknowledging the action. and then, for just a moment, he spared a glance over towards green’s torso in an effort to gauge exactly what supplies he would need. his hands suddenly stopped, mickey freezing entirely as blue eyes met damaged and broken skin. he stared, dull eyes unblinking as they wandered over scars and bruises unimaginable.
“i’m so… clumsy sometimes-” green spoke. it did nothing to clear up the almost strangling atmosphere. his laughter held no life in it. “such an idiot.” mickey breathed in a short, inaudible breath through his nose before eyes eventually lifted up to green’s face. the younger male turned his head away. he had never seen green look so small.
eventually mickey lowered his gaze back down towards the bag of medical supplies. seconds felt like minutes, hours, as he stood. silently thinking through his next move. the tension in the room was thick enough to be cut with a knife. it felt like the air had been taken away the moment eyes met damaged skin; the moment mick realized green was far more broken than he would ever be able to repair. he blinked, then swallowed hard. and if asked to describe what he felt in that moment, what he felt, mickey didn’t think he’d ever be able to recall. he felt so painfully numb. hands slowly dropped the medical items back into the bag before straightening, turning his gaze back towards green.
“how did you get those scars?”
the words contained no judgement or concern, rather carefully, painfully composed. he simply didn’t know how to react. how was he supposed to react to this bombshell? how was he supposed to react when he was so, so scared of what green’s answer would be?
he liked to think he had seen worse. mickey had been a medic in a rather bleak, dark side of the world after all. he had treated many men trained to be soldiers, products of war. they were damaged men, with scars covering their bruised bodies as they clung desperately to life. he had held men by the hand and watched as whatever life they had left faded from their eyes. staring at green, it hurt mickey to realize that the man looked like he had been fighting a war all on his own. nobody was by his side to hold his hand as the life faded from them. god, nobody even noticed. had green not wanted anyone else to know the day he left and came back a changed man? when?
mickey felt blind. he felt ignorant, that he hadn’t paid notice to the way the man changed right in front of him. he was a good man. this was the man that had greeted him with open arms and a warm smile into northstar. this was the same man that sat beside him one night, bundled up in a blanket underneath the stars. he laughed that night in such a way that could light up even the darkest of places inside a person. mickey would know. he touched him with such gentle hands once while teaching him how to use a bow and arrow; as if mickey had never been touched by war. whatever darkness inside mick never seemed to matter to him.
he stared now at that same man and failed to see the same person. the green he knew wasn’t there anymore. he failed to exist. it was exactly what he had feared would happen in this dark new world. he wanted to scream in frustration. mickey said -- he promised himself he wouldn’t let green ever walk down such a dark path. and if he couldn't have stopped such a painful journey, he swore to himself he wouldn’t let green walk down that path alone. he promised.
he couldn’t protect everyone. he had realized that long before this moment. though blue eyes looked at a broken man and wished so desperately that he could. he’d do anything to trade places with vernon green in that moment. he would do anything to hear that sweet, contagious laughter fall from his lips again. part of him considered the idea that he never again would.
yet no part of him refused to give up on him. he clenched his jaw, gaze unwavering on the man in front of him. he needed answers; he wouldn’t take any lies or half-truths for an answer. he couldn’t protect green, he had already failed to do so -- but that didn’t mean he couldn’t save them. vernon green was a man worth saving. his jaw wobbled, words only above a whisper as he asked, “what happened to you?” the concern managed to peek through the carefully composed exterior. even then, it managed to show only a glimpse into the true despair that gripped mickey’s heart.
Green wasn’t surprised to see Mickey falter at the sight of his body. It was hideous, disgusting, as ruined as what he looked like on the inside. It was enough to make Green feel like he wanted to shrivel up and hide away from the world. Hide from Mickey. And dare he say the only good that Mateo had ever done for him was gift him a hoodie - the only hoodie in his possession - and since then he’d been seen wearing it religiously. Even whilst it’d gotten dirty, wet from the rain and even coated with sand, Green would rarely go anywhere without it. Without his hoodie for armour, he feared that people would look at his battle scars with contempt or, worse off, with pity.
The curse of Mateo was that no matter how hard Green struggled to get away, he’d also placed a sort of inexplicable reliance on the man all the same. It was sickening.
Green couldn’t bear to hear what Mickey had to say. What would it be? Judgement? Concern? Disbelief? Dismissal? He simply wanted to disappear in the moment, seconds beginning to feel more like hours in the fear of what Mick had to say to him. His eyes had searched over the tapestry of Green’s skin as if he owed Green his sympathy, but Green would not take it. Green didn’t want anything apart from this one favour and perhaps a moment to escape from his world.
He lowered his gaze sheepishly once Mick looked away. Silence. Perhaps Mickey didn’t want to question him after all. Maybe he didn’t care enough to ask. That was all right; Green already knew exactly what Mick thought about him. He couldn’t even blame him - Green wasn’t a lousy excuse for a leader, but a lousy excuse for a human being. His body jolted as he heard the medical items drop back into the bag, eyes hastily shifting over to look towards Mickey. ❝ How did you get those scars? ❞
Green couldn’t answer. Words were contained by fear, unable to pass his lips because he knew the implications if anyone were to ever find out. Instinctively, Green looked towards the front door. Was this conversation loud enough for prying ears? Were the curtains closed enough so that nobody could peer through the gaps between fabric? What if Mateo had already predicted that Green would find himself at Mickey’s house? Was Mickey in danger now?
He looked back towards Mickey, lips trying their best to tug into a gutless smile. ❝ Oh- ❞ He tried to huff a short breath of laughter, eyes lowering to look at his injuries in attempt to figure out what else could form wounds so ghastly. ❝ I- Uh- It’s nothing. Really. ❞ His answer was so vague that it quite possibly did nothing more than bring about even more questions.
Oh, he was so stupid. He blinked, visibly distressed, as eyes darted away quickly. You could tell a man from what he had to say and, from his words alone, it was clear to see that he was desperately trying to hide something from Mickey. Green was the worst liar; when confronted, all he could do was fumble over his words pathetically. He was pathetic, and Mick knew that Green was lying. He must’ve known. Mick was still looking over at him, gaze unwavering. ❝ What happened to you? ❞ Words were barely above a whisper, Green’s gaze darting up to look at Mick with glazed over eyes.
❝ Can you just patch me up? ❞ Green questioned quietly, broken as disconsolate eyes stared across at the other man. He was cracking and conflicted, and Green didn’t know how much longer he could handle this. And so, with a voice so desperate and meek, he whispered with a soft crack, ❝ Please. ❞ It didn’t matter how much Green could deny the cause of his injuries; Mick already knew that Green needed help urgently.
Green sucked in a slow breath, averting his eyes when Mick wordlessly stood up to move closer to him, opting to sit on the coffee table in front of him before getting to work on cleaning up the laceration. Chest rose and fell steadily, Green tipping his chin up and fluttering eyes shut weakly. He already knew; in his inmost feelings, he already knew that he’d suffered enough. He felt lost at sea, slowly drowning in all of this despair. The weight of so much agony and terror was engulfing.
It felt like Green had been born with tragedy in his blood, but he wanted to bleed for better reasons this year. He sucked in a pained breath as Mickey began to suture his wound up, Green’s eyes blinking open as he gazed up at the ceiling. What happened to you, Green? What happened to you to break you so mercilessly? To flood your lungs with so much darkness and pain? Where was the light which once radiated so brightly from Green? He felt like nothing more than an empty shell of a man he used to be.
A part of him wished that Mick would’ve just pressed the question, forced the words from Green’s breath. He was so close to finding out the answers. So close. Green swallowed hard, feeling a lump in this throat as he patiently waited for Mick to get through each suture, the attempt to fix a man who was more broken than what seemed to be. Green could’ve told him everything, the cry for help which Green needed more than anything.
But what would happen if Mateo found out? Who would he hurt first? Green? Mickey? Someone more vulnerable? Green had to protect the people he loved, even if it would kill him. It was a catch twenty two it appeared; Green was already as good as dead.
Heart began to pick up pace as it thudded tirelessly against his chest, the quiet reminder that he was still alive. He was still here. Eyes pricked with tears in anxious thought, mulling over Mick’s question over and over again. What happened to Green? What happened to break him?
Mick had finished stitching up Green’s wound, cleaning up the site silently as Green lowered his chin to peer across at him with hollow, glassy eyes. He really did care about Green though, didn’t he? He watched Mick’s face quietly as he focused on his work, until he finally began to lower his supplies back into his bag. Mickey was a good man, a man who would go to the ends of the earth for Green, right? Green knew from experience, like the time Mick vowed to prove Green’s innocence.
Slowly, a shaking hand reached out to rest on Mick’s knee. A silent thank you as he bowed his head. What happened to you? What would he think if Green told him? He shut his eyes, lips pressed together tightly as his jaw wobbled. What happened to you? If Mick knew, would he be able to save Green? Breath was shaky through flared nostrils, Green squeezing Mick’s knee gently. What happened to you? Even if Mick didn’t have the answers, Green could no longer sit around and await his death.
And so, finally, he cracked.
Shoulders shook silently, tears slowly forming before dripping onto his jeans. Tears were silent, just as he’d been taught throughout the months. Anything to keep the attention away from him. But, Green couldn’t carry on this way; he wasn’t strong enough to. He made the quietest of sobs, body scarily rigid and afraid as the world swallowed him whole.
Was this what dying felt like?
[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family:verdana; font-size: 7px;"][spoiler=tags :: updated 03/06] basics.
✫ vernon jeremiah green // only known as green or greenie
✫ he doesn't introduce himself as vernon
✫ male // he/him
✫ twenty four // ages real time // born twenty first april
✫ leader of northstar district
✫ stepped up as leader - twentieth april 2039
appearance.
✫ faceclaim - taron egerton
✫ voice claim - taron egerton
✫ family originally comes from llanfairpwllgwyngyll in wales
✫ has a mixed british accent with a welsh and american twang
✫ 5'10ft // lean yet well-built from working out
✫ soft blue eyes and dirty blonde hair
✫ physical health - 70%
¬ current injuries: he's gotten a series on unexplained injuries all over him.
✫ mental health - 50%
¬ he's turned into a shell of the man he used to be; paranoid, anxious and visibly distressed with an apparent change in character.
personality.
✫ fundamentally he has a good heart // humble
✫ very assertive // does what he can to benefit northstar
✫ has a good set of morals // cares for people unconditionally
✫ very relaxed and composed with self-assurance and confidence
✫ incredibly complacent and laid back unless he's fighting for his cause
✫ massive daredevil // is very into extreme sports
✫ fearless, stupidly so // doesn't mind risking his own life
✫ generally easy to get on with, it's difficult to dislike him
✫ doesn't think into the future // only thinks about the present
✫ dependable and very loyal to his friends
relationships.
✫ david green x cassandra griffiths // both are deceased
✫ only child // his biological father died before he was born
✫ green was orphaned when he was nine
✫ fostered by caroline and steve miles
✫ both his foster parents died when green was eleven
✫ his chihuahua and pug, midas and ginnie, are basically his children
✫ doesn't really label his sexuality // comfortable with who he is
✫ formerly dated fallon rude
✫ formerly dated paige montgomery
✫ formerly had a brief fling with winifred maddison
✫ has a daughter named felicity montgomery
interaction.
✫ storage // playlist // pinterest
✫ physically: hard // mentally: medium
✫ his weapon of choice is a bat, yet he only has it for defense
✫ also has a bow and arrow, but uses it for recreation
✫ much prefers to run away // is exceptional at parkour
✫ very diplomatic and much prefers mediation rather than fighting
✫ dislikes confrontation yet will fight if need be // not a fan of close-ranged attacks
✫ foster parents taught him self-defense
✫ living on the streets turned him into a good fighter
[/spoiler]
[align=center] I'LL EAT UP ALL YOUR PAIN, TAKE IN ALL THE BLAME
[div style="width: 400px; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; font-size: 5pt; line-height: 1; letter-spacing: 4.2px; word-spacing: 1.9px; margin-bottom: 5px;"]BE THAT SOMEONE TO COMPLAIN TO — NOTES.
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 125%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; color: black"]
— mickey remembered the exact moment the world broke him. he remembered how the numbness and emptiness took over, how he wished he could desperately apologize to the man he had just killed. he could never forget the dead body slumped in that chair. more than anything, mick could never forget the things he needed that day. how desperately he needed his mother with him, to remember the way she held him whenever he was scared. the way she gently rubbed his back and reassured him so softly... he never felt as scared once she finally let him go. he wanted his dad gently ruffling his hair. telling him to keep his chin up before walking alongside his son. never have to face this dark and scary world alone. god, more than anything he wanted to go home. find peace in four walls where he could sit with winnie in his lap and ellie under his arm. he wanted someone to tell him that he was safe, and know without a doubt that they weren't lying to him.
but the reality of it all was that, whenever mickey needed those things the most, he wouldn’t get them. beg and wish for it as much as he wanted, nothing would bring it all back to him. looking back on it, mickey felt certain that having all of those things never would’ve made a difference. he was too far gone at that point, he liked to think. but even then-- so what if it hadn’t helped? it would have meant the world to him to know he wasn’t alone, that he had a support system. eyes wandered towards the man sat on his couch.
was green alone in this?
honestly, did green ever feel like he was facing this - whatever this was - with a few people there to have his back? whenever it started, did anyone try and stick up for him? did green tell anyone? questions burned on the tip of his tongue, only more appearing as green continued to shrug off the question with vague and unfulfilling answers. did he- his gaze wandered towards the ground between them. guilt, shame.
did green even have anyone to tell?
it wasn’t like mickey had been around. a rift had grown between them to the point that mickey was sure, even if he asked green what was wrong before, green would’ve forced a smile and said he was okay. even if green had wished then that he had somebody to be by his side, even if there were things he felt he needed the most, he wouldn’t have gotten anything at all. wish for it as much as he wanted, nothing could be offered to green to undo the damage that had already been done. mick could see through the lies and visible distress to know that much.
eyes slowly followed green’s gaze towards the front door. the man was distressed. traumatized. he gazed back towards green and watched the silent agony in those depths. could it be green’s best friend? he hated to entertain the thought. mateo washing blood from his hands could be unrelated, it could. were there people from green’s past that had it out for him? green, what happened to you? glazed eyes met his.
“can you just patch me up?” lips parted slightly, almost taken aback as green avoided the question. “please.” and green was so broken, so empty -- he closed his mouth, clenching his jaw as he swallowed hard. he didn’t want to be the one to push green more than he already had been. lowering his gaze, he stood silent for a moment. then, without another word, he wandered over towards the other side of the coffee table, sitting down on it as he went to work on green’s wound.
the pair sat in silence as mickey worked. careful hands worked to suture the wound, trying to make it as efficient and painless as he possibly could. he couldn’t deny the way his eyes would wander towards a nearby bruise or scar. whoever caused all of this harm to green, they were a monster. nothing could ever convince mickey otherwise.
he breathed out slowly through his nose, straightening shortly as he turned towards his bag for a few more supplies. “almost done.” he said it in a quiet breath, almost to himself. almost done. and after that, what would come next? the younger man would most likely leave without another word. mickey would stay in his spot, forever wondering what he could’ve done differently, what he should’ve said before he let green go. it would come to be a moment mick would always regret. and he knew it.
done cleaning the site, he turned to rearrange the items neatly back into his bag, setting other items to the side to be thrown away later. green placed a hand on his knee, silent. the action was enough for mick’s lips to twitch upwards into a short, sad smile. he finished up on rearranging the items in his bag, only turning to look at green once the man gently squeezed his knee. turning his head, the neutral expression on his face faded into something more somber. he watched green’s shoulders shake as he quietly sobbed, tears falling onto his jeans.
“hey-” he started, voice so soothing. assuring. he wanted to tell green that it was okay- but it was a promise that mickey knew he couldn’t say with certainty. instead his hands moved almost instinctively to the sides of green’s head, gently tilting his head up to meet his gaze. and, god, mick knew he couldn’t tell green that everything was going to be okay… but how desperately he wanted to in that moment.
eyes searched green’s own. he felt like he was watching something that he shouldn’t. he felt like he was watching the least deserving of such pain finally fall, defeated. mickey slowly dropped his hands down to his sides, using them instead to push himself off from the coffee table and onto the couch. he sat close enough that his arm just brushed green’s own.
nodding to himself, he turned his head to look over at the other man. “you’re safe here.” and there it was. no urging green to tell him what was wrong. no pushing or prodding. instead, a soft assurance. if green wanted to say anything to him then, if he wanted to say nothing at all -- at least he knew that he was safe. it was a promise that mickey knew he could keep. more than anything, in a world that seemed to only be tearing green down, killing whatever light left in him - it was a promise that green needed to hear.
Green was used to the loneliness.
Perched on the side of the street, wondering how a young boy like him could survive alone with nothing more than a rucksack of messily packed belongings. He was destined to be alone.
An only child. A biological father killed tragically before he could even meet his newborn son. A biological mother estranged from a family who made her feel worthless. A biological mother who died before her time. Adopted by an elderly couple who could never have children of their own. An elderly couple whose families had passed away with the course of life itself. An elderly couple who could not live to see their only son’s twelfth birthday.
Friends came and went again in time, proving to Green that nothing could ever last forever. He was destined to be alone.
And so, he thought that he should’ve been able to handle this on his own. He was alone in this, but hadn’t he always been alone? But, this was nothing like what he had to face in the past. This was far more frightening. That his loved ones would die because of him and then he’d follow shortly after. Mateo was a threatening man who would certainly stay true to his word. If Green were to step out of line, his loved ones and his own life would be the price to pay.
If only Green had the courage to talk to Mick about it sooner, then perhaps the fear and suffering could’ve been over quicker. But, Green was afraid. What could Mickey do? Did Mickey even care enough to want to help? For months, questions lingered. For some time, the thought had not even crossed his mind; he did not have to face the world alone forever.
But, not so long ago, Mick and Green had gotten into an explosive argument. Words had been passed between them that Green would hold onto every time he wondered if Mick would care enough to help. Green was a lousy excuse of a leader. Maybe Mick would be happy if Mateo finally took over, killed Green for his position. Maybe he could be a better leader than the ever-so-impressionable Green could ever be.
After the past few days, after Mick’s selfless compassion, it made Greenie think - maybe he didn’t have to go through this alone. His walls were crumbling - he felt paranoid, afraid - but he couldn’t bear to withstand the force of a man as venomous as Mateo for much longer. And so, after months of his hurt bottled deep within, Green finally cracked.
Hand squeezed Mick’s knee. He wasn’t sure whether it was because he needed Mick to notice the moment he fell apart, a desperate plea for Mick to act as damage control, or whether it was purely the thankfulness that Mick could be so good to him. Perhaps it was a bit of both.
❝ Hey- ❞ Mick’s voice was always so soothing and sweet that even the briefest of acknowledgement felt to be a relief. But, despite all attempts, Green was rendered inconsolable. He was nothing more than a shell of the man he once was. That bright joy in eager eyes had dulled into a vacant stare, heart slamming with constant fear against his chest, a sickening sensation of the inevitability of his downfall looming so near; it was only a matter of time before Mateo grew bored of him.
Two hands gently moved to touch the sides of his face, Green flinching lightly as if he expected a touch far more violent. But, this touch was soft. Delicate. From a man whose gift was to try to heal those who needed healing. He allowed Mick to guide his head up, blinking open red eyes as he stared across at Mickey in a look of defeat. He couldn’t carry on this way, pretending that everything was all right when in reality he cursed his body for waking up every morning.
He clenched his jaw tightly, gaze flitting down to his lap as if he were ashamed of the mess he’d become as Mick moved to sit beside him. His hands were clasped together on his lap, gnawed down nailed like serrated blades as they dug into the skin of his knuckles anxiously. ❝ You’re safe here. ❞ He so badly wished that that was true. The first ounce of safety in months. But, Green knew better now than to believe in others when they spoke of great things. He wasn’t safe. He could never be safe for as long as Mateo was alive.
❝ But I’m not. ❞ He hiccuped through choking breaths. These were no cries that could be romanticized, delicate and sweet. These were ugly sobs that were suffocating against lips which he knew he had to keep sealed in order to appease Mateo. Haunting whimpers as he sat shirtless and broken; a humiliating sight to see. This was the sight of a man who’d been stripped of all identity, the essence of his being slowly morphed into nothing more than an extension of the man who broke him so mercilessly. ❝ If he ever found out that I went to you- ❞ He tried to explain, lip wobbling as he looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink away tears through heaving breaths.
❝ I thought that- that I could do this on my own. That I had to get used to this being my life… But I can’t do it anymore, Mick. I can’t fucking do it! ❞ Green cried, face scrunching up with emotional agony. ❝ He- He’s- ❞ He couldn’t come to say the words, looking down at his fist as he clenched it tightly. ❝ I’m being held hostage in my own… fucking home. He told me that- that he’d kill everyone I cared about if I brought them into it. That it’s between me and him, and - oh my God, Mick - I’m so sorry that I’m telling you this but I needed someone to know before he- ❞
Green gasped for a breath, shaking his head slowly before uttering softly, ❝ before Mateo kills me. ❞ Never did Green think that he’d ever tell anyone about what he was going through. He was supposed to face it on his own, instead struggle until his death. ❝ When he wants me to do something for him, I do it. Like when I barred groups from entering Northstar; he wanted that so that nobody found out that he was the one who burned Bluestem down! Oh my God, what have I done?! I shouldn’t have told you anything; I’m sorry, okay? ❞ Hands trembled on his lap, Green overwrought as he gasped for breaths.
❝ When he wants something done, when I step out of line, even when he’s fuckin’... bored - I don’t know- he finds me alone and- and he does… this. ❞ He gestured meekly to the stitched up wound, ❝ And this. And this. This. This. This, this this- ❞ He grew more hysterical with every passing moment, more petrified and overcome with anxiety as he pointed out more injuries across his body, almost violently prodding at his painful injuries as if they deserved no respect or care in their process of healing. He was a broken man, through and through. Hands began to fumble at the button of his jeans. ❝ It doesn’t stop there! My legs, my back, even my fucking ass, Mick- he's going to hurt me until I die... I’m going to die. ❞ He finally gave up on trying to remove his jeans in his panicked rant, hands shaking too wildly to even unbutton his jeans before he began to hang his head in his hands, shoulders shaking as he cried.
❝ He’s going to kill me. ❞ Words never sounded so defeated.
[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family:verdana; font-size: 7px;"][spoiler=tags : updated 03/06] basics.
✫ vernon jeremiah green // only known as green or greenie
✫ he doesn't introduce himself as vernon
✫ male // he/him
✫ twenty four // ages real time // born twenty first april
✫ leader of northstar district
✫ stepped up as leader - twentieth april 2039
appearance.
✫ faceclaim - taron egerton
✫ voice claim - taron egerton
✫ family originally comes from llanfairpwllgwyngyll in wales
✫ has a mixed british accent with a welsh and american twang
✫ 5'10ft // lean yet well-built from working out
✫ soft blue eyes and dirty blonde hair
✫ physical health - 70%
¬ current injuries: he's gotten a series on unexplained injuries all over him.
✫ mental health - 50%
¬ he's turned into a shell of the man he used to be; paranoid, anxious and visibly distressed with an apparent change in character.
personality.
✫ fundamentally he has a good heart // humble
✫ very assertive // does what he can to benefit northstar
✫ has a good set of morals // cares for people unconditionally
✫ very relaxed and composed with self-assurance and confidence
✫ incredibly complacent and laid back unless he's fighting for his cause
✫ massive daredevil // is very into extreme sports
✫ fearless, stupidly so // doesn't mind risking his own life
✫ generally easy to get on with, it's difficult to dislike him
✫ doesn't think into the future // only thinks about the present
✫ dependable and very loyal to his friends
relationships.
✫ david green x cassandra griffiths // both are deceased
✫ only child // his biological father died before he was born
✫ green was orphaned when he was nine
✫ fostered by caroline and steve miles
✫ both his foster parents died when green was eleven
✫ his chihuahua and pug, midas and ginnie, are basically his children
✫ doesn't really label his sexuality // comfortable with who he is
✫ formerly dated fallon rude
✫ formerly dated paige montgomery
✫ formerly had a brief fling with winifred maddison
✫ has a daughter named felicity montgomery
interaction.
✫ storage // playlist // pinterest
✫ physically: hard // mentally: medium
✫ his weapon of choice is a bat, yet he only has it for defense
✫ also has a bow and arrow, but uses it for recreation
✫ much prefers to run away // is exceptional at parkour
✫ very diplomatic and much prefers mediation rather than fighting
✫ dislikes confrontation yet will fight if need be // not a fan of close-ranged attacks
✫ foster parents taught him self-defense
✫ living on the streets turned him into a good fighter
[/spoiler]
[align=center] I'LL EAT UP ALL YOUR PAIN, TAKE IN ALL THE BLAME
[div style="width: 400px; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; font-size: 5pt; line-height: 1; letter-spacing: 4.2px; word-spacing: 1.9px; margin-bottom: 5px;"]BE THAT SOMEONE TO COMPLAIN TO — NOTES.
03-17-2020, 09:04 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-17-2020, 09:07 PM by mickey.)
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 125%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; color: black"]
— mickey didn’t trust easily. he was cold and distant for years; he learned that it was only safer be that way. people who were friends one day became his enemies the next. give anyone a chance to get close to him and they would make him regret it in the end. that was how it had been for years. he built up walls within himself, unwilling to trust just anyone. he thought it went away with time, though parts of that still lingered in the broken pieces within himself. when he came to live in northstar, the first couple weeks had been spent silently judging green, ashamed as he was to admit it now. he doubted the man’s abilities; more than that, he doubted green’s true intentions. he questioned green’s leadership. a leader didn’t rule with such a golden heart; there had to be some darker parts that green wasn’t showing anyone else.
the more he came to see of green, though, the more he came to realize that it wasn’t the case at all. merely weeks into being there and he had been shown what was really in the man’s heart. with gus and the way green watched him with such genuine worry and fear while in his final moments. the way gus talked about him before he died, painted the story of a kid who gave a man everything while he had nothing to his name. the kid with a heart of gold.
he got to know green. he watched him pour his heart out about his parents, his life on the streets, his fears of the future. anyone that got to truly know green, truly know those innermost parts of him, came to know there wasn’t a darker part hiding inside. green was a light, the living definition of sunshine. mick couldn’t doubt his intentions even if he tried. where he once couldn’t see him as leader, he found himself unable to unsee him as the leader of northstar.
mickey ended up seeing green as a protector. he protected those around him so fiercely. he was green; the man known for how he fought back for northstar’s independence. ever since he joined, he would see green out and about the district. always doing something. he gave and he gave and he gave -- and did it all without asking for anything back. it was rare to find a soul that was so selfless. green took care of everyone without fear of what would happen to him in the end. to know someone like green was the biggest honor mick could think of.
it hurt to see a man so undeserving of pain hurt. it hurt to see the way green flinched at his touch, unused to such a gentle touch. even just to move to sit beside him made his chest ache at such a sight. what happened to you? green had yet to say, but mick could already make his conclusions. he already had a few ideas. still, his heart raced anxiously in his chest, waiting for green to speak. waiting for green to know he was safe here.
“but i’m not.” he blinked and watched the man slowly start to come even more apart. “if he ever found out that i went to you-” and mick didn’t know what to say. he didn’t know what to say, so he listened. followed green’s every word as the man painted such a heartbreaking story. now mick could’ve known, deep down. maybe he already knew that mateo had been the cause of all this pain. though it felt like all the suspicions in the world could just barely scratch the surface. it was worse than he had thought. he clenched his jaw. mateo was a monster.
the man burned bluestem down. his abuse didn’t stop there. he caused pain wherever he went. he hurt green in more ways than mick would ever know. he had green so certain he was going to die, so sure that his life was going to be cut painfully short-- but not before using him to get what he wanted. he felt almost sick.
it dawned on mick, then. green protected others so fiercely that he risked hurting himself in the process. he would protect those he loved until his last breath. mick never thought he would have to see such a feat come true. yet there green was in his living room, scarred, beaten, and bruised. willing to die if it meant his loved ones stayed safe. green was braver than he gave himself credit for.
eyes followed green’s hand. “... he finds me alone and- and does… this. and this. and this.” he felt overwhelmed by each injury green pointed out. ”this. this. this, this this-” and it didn’t even stop there. he swallowed hard, feeling almost frozen as the severity hit him. green talked as if he was on death row, just waiting for his time to die. mickey watched as green hanged his head in his hands and sobbed. it felt wrong to watch such a sight. it was like watching an angel cry. it hurt to watch.
“he’s going to kill me.”
mickey told mateo months ago to stay away from tara and finn. he remembered holding him by the collar of his shirt, telling him not to hurt the people he loved. and he did. however, mick wished he had included green in that harsh threat; mateo’s sights had never been on tara in the same way as green’s case. tara went untouched. she was shaken up by their run-in, but she was never physically hurt by that man again. his gaze turned towards green’s torso. scars and painful injuries now littered green’s body. would the same thing have happened if mick included others in his threat? would mateo have stopped if mick made the same threat for green’s case?
but he didn’t. it was a reminder that would fill him with regret every time he thought about it again. he didn’t stick up for green. he didn’t keep him close or offer any help or comfort. he wasn’t a shoulder to cry on during those dark days; if anything, he only pushed green further away. there were many things mick wished he could change about the past. if he could go back and change all the things he had done wrong to green, he would in a heartbeat. though that was the painful part about the past; it couldn’t be changed. no matter how much mick wished it could be.
the silence between them didn’t last long. “he’s not.” a fire felt like it was lit inside his chest, burning, aching to right the wrongs mateo had done. mick knew he never could, but he could at least make it stop. he knew he had to. he moved to place a hand on green’s shoulder, gently urging, “look at me.” it hurt to see the reddened eyes, the pain in their depths. though mick wanted green to know; he wanted green to know the sincerity in his words as he carried on;
“he’s not going to kill you. because i won’t let him.” and there was a fire of determination in his eyes, yet he still spoke so softly to the broken man beside him. already his mind was coming up with a plan. it was a rough outline of an idea, one he didn’t want to explain to green while he was in shambles. after he could help put the pieces back together and pick green up a bit, only then would he tell him how they were going to put an end to mateo once and for all. mickey was going to kill mateo suarez.
he gently squeezed green’s shoulder assuringly. “trust me, green.” his eyes searched green’s anguished features, then, adding in a voice just barely above a whisper, “we’re going to get you out of this.”
Perhaps if he was more like Mickey, Green never would’ve gotten into this situation in the very first place. He could’ve been untrusting and aloof, wary of intentions and emotionally strong. Green could’ve been strong - that independence in Mickey was admirable, but Green couldn’t help but spend his days desperate to please people. Desperate to be the reason that they found peace within themselves, and pressing for them to find happiness even if it meant taking it away from Green. He could’ve been like Mickey, guarded with his heart, but instead he possessed no backbone when it came to the ones he thought that he could trust. But Mickey? Oh, Mickey knew how to protect himself. It made for a certain difficulty for people with ill intentions to ever infiltrate his mind and leave him damaged.
If Green had been as strong, would his skin still have been so scarred?
But, if he weren’t so desperate to try to be good for the people he cared for, it would have been one of them in this situation, wouldn’t it? All he did was bear all of the weight of Mateo’s wickedness in order to protect the people that he cared for in his life; if he were to go through this all over again, he probably would do so without hesitation. If it weren’t Green who’d been fragmented and broken, then who would it have been?
Through that sacrifice came a hurt so unimaginable. Green felt as if every fibre of his soul had been unraveled - thread by thread he slowly came apart, yet maybe Green has truly underestimated his own strength all along. Having such a soft heart in a world like this felt more like courage than weakness. He’d managed to withstand the force of Mateo for months now despite caving in to his requests. Green would be passive and afraid, but that fear was what kept him moving.
Green slumped, defeated as he gasped through his sobs. Breath felt ragged and painful within his lungs, as if his body was still raw from the last time he’d cried desperately in all of his brokenness. Prodding carelessly at his injuries, even whilst the pain would still shoot up his body, it had become clear that all respect that he once had for himself had perished. This was the new Vernon Green: defeated. Where was that man with rebellion in his bones? The one who would never step back if that meant he could no longer fight for his cause. A boy who was born for revolution, and yet he’d become so yielding and compliant.
This was no longer Green. This was nothing but a shadow of who he used to be. A voice that’d been silenced against his will.
His head fell, hand covering his mouth instinctively as he withheld the sound of broken cries. Crying would only get him hurt more in the end. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears being urged to trickle down the sides of his reddened face woefully as he tried to settle himself in the silence. But then, a comforting hand found itself on his shoulder, Green leaning ever-so-slightly into Mick's touch. The only touch of empathy that he had felt in a long, long time. ❝ He’s not. ❞ He so desperately wanted those words to be true. Green didn’t want to die. He adored life before Mateo.
But, what if being hopeful was nothing but wishful thinking?
Mick was gentle in the way he urged for Green to look towards him, as if he had to confirm that Green was in fact going to be okay. As if the tiniest glimmer of hope was justified. Slowly, Green blinked up to look towards Mick. Eyes ached as Green looked across his features meekly. He looked at Mick as if he was his very last hope. ❝ He’s not going to kill you. Because I won’t let him. ❞ That fire in Mick’s eyes was convincing, Green’s knee bouncing anxiously as eyes searched and craved the warmth of his fire.
What could Mick do to stop Mateo? Green wouldn’t even know how far Mickey would go to see Green smile once more. He could barely entertain the thought of what someone could do to save a hopeless soul like Green’s, but Mick’s words made him feel safe. At least, safer than before. There had been a peculiar weight that had been lifted off of his shoulders in that moment. This was the first time he’d ever opened up to somebody about what had happened to him, and probably the last for a long, long time at least.
He wanted to trust Mickey. He wanted to believe in him. And so, he did.
❝ Trust me, Green. ❞ Green’s lips parted slightly as he gasped for short breaths, jaw wobbling as Mick then said, ❝ We’re going to get you out of this. ❞
Green said nothing. He barely knew what he could say. Instead, he watched Mickey for a couple of moments before a shaking breath escaped from his lips involuntarily. Slowly, he lowered his head to press his forehead against Mick’s shoulder, body shaking silently as he quietly gasped through his relentless tears. A hand rested on Mick’s knee, nudging as if he had something to say and yet he remained wordless. No words to speak of how he felt in the moment, instead reduced to silence.
❝ Come on. ❞ Words from Mick were so soft and kind as Green felt the older man sensitively guide him closer and only then did a grisly cry sound from him, Green choking on trembling breaths as he slowly allowed for himself to be lowered down with his head resting on Mick’s lap. Eyes squeezed shut tightly, one hand raised to cover his face with despair. He didn’t know whether his cries were of agony or relief; perhaps it was a little bit of both.
Either way, he was not alone anymore which was enough for any person to weep.
[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family:verdana; font-size: 7px;"][spoiler=tags : updated 03/06] basics.
✫ vernon jeremiah green // only known as green or greenie
✫ he doesn't introduce himself as vernon
✫ male // he/him
✫ twenty four // ages real time // born twenty first april
✫ leader of northstar district
✫ stepped up as leader - twentieth april 2039
appearance.
✫ faceclaim - taron egerton
✫ voice claim - taron egerton
✫ family originally comes from llanfairpwllgwyngyll in wales
✫ has a mixed british accent with a welsh and american twang
✫ 5'10ft // lean yet well-built from working out
✫ soft blue eyes and dirty blonde hair
✫ physical health - 70%
¬ current injuries: he's gotten a series on unexplained injuries all over him.
✫ mental health - 50%
¬ he's turned into a shell of the man he used to be; paranoid, anxious and visibly distressed with an apparent change in character.
personality.
✫ fundamentally he has a good heart // humble
✫ very assertive // does what he can to benefit northstar
✫ has a good set of morals // cares for people unconditionally
✫ very relaxed and composed with self-assurance and confidence
✫ incredibly complacent and laid back unless he's fighting for his cause
✫ massive daredevil // is very into extreme sports
✫ fearless, stupidly so // doesn't mind risking his own life
✫ generally easy to get on with, it's difficult to dislike him
✫ doesn't think into the future // only thinks about the present
✫ dependable and very loyal to his friends
relationships.
✫ david green x cassandra griffiths // both are deceased
✫ only child // his biological father died before he was born
✫ green was orphaned when he was nine
✫ fostered by caroline and steve miles
✫ both his foster parents died when green was eleven
✫ his chihuahua and pug, midas and ginnie, are basically his children
✫ doesn't really label his sexuality // comfortable with who he is
✫ formerly dated fallon rude
✫ formerly dated paige montgomery
✫ formerly had a brief fling with winifred maddison
✫ has a daughter named felicity montgomery
interaction.
✫ storage // playlist // pinterest
✫ physically: hard // mentally: medium
✫ his weapon of choice is a bat, yet he only has it for defense
✫ also has a bow and arrow, but uses it for recreation
✫ much prefers to run away // is exceptional at parkour
✫ very diplomatic and much prefers mediation rather than fighting
✫ dislikes confrontation yet will fight if need be // not a fan of close-ranged attacks
✫ foster parents taught him self-defense
✫ living on the streets turned him into a good fighter
[/spoiler]
[align=center] I'LL EAT UP ALL YOUR PAIN, TAKE IN ALL THE BLAME
[div style="width: 400px; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; font-size: 5pt; line-height: 1; letter-spacing: 4.2px; word-spacing: 1.9px; margin-bottom: 5px;"]BE THAT SOMEONE TO COMPLAIN TO — NOTES.
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 125%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; color: black"]
— mick would never be able to see himself in the same light as green did. even more, he didn’t think green could even see himself in that way in the first place; he didn’t think anyone could. distant, lacking trust, unwilling to easily let others in… it was merely a product of his upbringing, of seeing people get close to him time and time again only to hurt him in the end. his fierce independence and emotional strength could be looked up to, but he didn’t personally see why. if anything, green was worth more admiration than he ever would be. the other man was kind to everyone, jumped into friendships with an open heart. he gave people a chance, even if they didn’t deserve it. memories came back of talking to green for the first time at one event or another. the leader offered him a place in northstar without knowing exactly the kind of person mick was. he didn’t see the innermost demons and, even if he did, it didn’t seem like he would’ve retracted his offer. all he saw was a man that desperately needed change in his life, and knowing he had the resources to change his circumstances. vernon green was a kind-hearted, open-minded man;that was admirable.
it hurt to know there were people in the world that would use that against him. of course mick had seen his fair share of evil in the new world, with people willing to cause harm and wreak havoc for their own personal gain. however, usually the very thing they were fighting against wasn’t as pure and kind either. but green was genuinely a light in the darkness, someone to lead people through the darkness. lighting the way back home. what person felt they had the right to break someone like green? he tore green apart; he didn’t flinch or ache at the sight of someone so innocent coming undone. mick clenched his jaw and tried to dismiss the ache, the anger in his chest. he already knew what he had to do.
mateo needed to be stopped. silently calculating a plan, he felt almost unwilling to say exactly what he thought. there wasn’t time to think through the perfect execution; if they waited weeks, days, what would happen to green? eyes searched the man’s heart wrenching, woeful features. he couldn’t remember seeing the man look so small. his thumb gently brushed over green’s shoulder as he made his promise, as he assured green that he wasn’t going to let mateo kill him. that they were going to get green out of this. trust him.
it must’ve been asking a lot from green, to trust someone after he felt alone in this for so long. the last time he had trusted in someone, that person had turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. they promised to be green’s friend, to make him feel safe in their presence-- but then they left green a broken, beaten-down man, and did it without remorse in their eyes. how could he trust that someone wouldn’t come into his life and make those same empty promises? did mick realize just how much he was asking from green to simply trust someone again? mick didn’t know exactly, but he had a vague idea. he knew, when green slowly lowered his head to mick’s shoulder, body silently shaking through broken gasps, that green’s trust meant everything in that moment.
for a moment he sat there, the arm that once gripped green’s shoulder moved to his back, holding him as best as he could. feeling like he was holding a man that was just crumbling right in front of him. though if he was falling apart, mick would try his best to catch the broken pieces. he was sure that, if green were in his position, he would have done the same thing. mick shifted around briefly in his spot. “come on.” his words were soft and gentle, guiding green with careful hands. fingertips skirted around injuries so gently; it was hard to believe the violence that bloodied those hands ever existed in the first place.
as he guided green, the man relaxing enough in his grip to lower his head onto his lap, he finally released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. a hand lingered on green’s shoulder, watching the other man raise a hand to cover his face. and he cried. and with the tears, mick felt such a weight. the gravity of the situation finally weighed down on him. eyes slowly wandered up towards the ceiling, as if he was witnessing something that he shouldn’t. he was supposed to be there to comfort the other man, catch his broken pieces as they fell-- but he felt there was nothing he could say.
eyes slowly wandered back towards green. he couldn’t tell him that it was okay, because it wasn’t. he couldn’t tell him that he was safe, that mateo would never lay a hand on him again. there were so many empty promises green had heard from others; he couldn’t be another man to tell him something he couldn’t believe in.
rather, mick decided to say nothing at all. his hand traveled up to green’s hair, fingers tangling in the dirty-blond locks. and as green cried and wept with such despair and agony, mick carded gentle fingers through his hair. how long had it been since someone held him so gently? how long had it been since someone was so careful with green?
and as they sat there, silent aside from green’s trembling breaths and heart-aching sobs, mick realized that he would do anything for green in that moment. he’d go to the ends of the earth for the man if he so much as said the word. and, with green in such pain and misery, it was apparent that he would do anything to make it stop. exhaling slowly through his nose, he swallowed hard and searched green’s broken features.
he had to stop mateo suarez.
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