1971: Everything Breaks

1971: Everything Breaks

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Read after [Draft] Blood Moon 06.

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Point of View: Leo Lanier
Featured Characters: Leo Lanier, Michael Hightower
Word Count: 612

Leo will never forget the moment that he gave up on Michael.


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He found Michael curled up in a ball on the kitchen floor amidst a pool of blood and glass.

“…What happened?” Leo asked slowly, twisting his feet to avoid stepping on the shards of ceramics that were scattered across the tile as he picked his way across the floor. He crouched down next to his cousin’s shivering form and reached out to lay a hand on Michael’s back, only to withdraw his fingers when Michael jerked violently and let out a wounded sob.

“I broke her,” Michael answered between chokes and gasps.

The bottom fell out of Leo’s stomach.

“Michael, what happened?” he asked again. When he didn’t get a response, he grabbed hold of Michael’s shoulder and shook him hard. “Fucking look at me. What did you do?!”

“She won’t wake up,” replied Michael, lifting his head at last. His eyes were dark as night, pupils expanding almost to the edge of the iris, and glassy with tears. His mouth was smeared crimson. Holy fuck, he looked high as a kite. “I tried, but she- she won’t wake up.”

Leo turned his head, following Michael’s gaze. His eyes landed on pale, milky thighs poking out from under a frilly white apron; a little higher and he found the bulging eyes, the blond hair matted with blood and the blue-tinged face.

“Fucking Christ.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Michael told him, frantic. “I- She laughed.”

“So you what, choked her out?! Michael, you’ve got to learn to deal with this shit.”

“I can’t,” was the answering whisper. “I can’t, I- I don’t want to do this anymore, Leo. I don’t want to be… this. I don’t want to be like him.”

“Michael, no-”

“I can’t, Leo! I’ve tried it your way, but this isn’t working, I can’t control this… this thing inside me. I want to be good. I can be good if I just-”

“Michael, you stupid son of a bitch. That’s not you. That’s just running away from your problems! We talked about this, you can get past it if you’ll just give yourself a fucking chance!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Leo.”

Michael wiped at the side of his mouth, smudging red down his chin. He struggled up onto his knees.

“Help me clean this mess up,” he said, waving his hand at the girl’s crumpled body. “Before the tile stains.”

And that was the moment. After everything, after all the bullshit, all the terrible things Michael had done… That right there, when Leo watched everything recognizable fade from Michael’s eyes in front of his own, was when he knew.

Michael Hightower was dead. And he wouldn’t be coming back.

“I’m done,” Leo heard himself say.

“…What?”

“Did I stutter? I’m done. I’m gone.” Leo started to turn.

Michael’s bony fingers clamped down on his arm, hauling him back. He peered at Leo, expression shuttered.

“You can’t leave me,” Michael said. Like he thought it should be obvious.

“Don’t stop me, Michael.” Leo stared back at him, unflinching. “Not this time. If you stop me this time, I swear to God I will kill you the second I find a chance.”

Michael studied him in that detached, clinical way that made Leo’s skin crawl, the one where he felt like part of Michael’s collection. A shiny object in a glass case.

“You’ll be back.” Michael sounded so confident, so assured, that Leo wanted to punch him.

“Don’t hold your breath,” he spat instead, tugging his arm free of Michael’s grasp. “The next time I see you will be in hell.”

“I’ll see you in a week, I think.”

Leo slammed the door on his way out.

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