Title: Ma? Can I Keep Him?
Pairing: B/J; implied E/J; various
Summary: Debbie is the Sweeney Todd mother of her mentally deranged son, Mikey and adopted son, Brian. They make sausages out of passersby. Justin and Ethan are passing through their tiny backwater town.
Warnings: Well, it is a cannibal fic. This is very black humor. So beware. There's nothing squicky really. There will be some things that people might be uncomfortable with.
Disclaimers: I don't own Cowlip or a George Foreman grill or a jacuzzi....
Cross-posted at qaf_bunnies
Previous chapters are in my memories here
As Brian drove away from the crash site with his new acquisitions, he started to recall a time when he had brought a small kitten home to show Debbie. He was probably around eight or nine at the time. He had found it in the ravine not too far from the spot he was at tonight. The kitten was a small tawny Tabby that had a way of looking at you while it crooked its head to the side. Brian was immediately enthralled with it. He rushed home with it and begged Debbie to let him
keep it. He had already named it 'Bronze.' Debbie said they didn't need something that would eat, sleep and poop around the house when they already had Mikey. She then gave one of her many chuckles, rubbed his head and then told him to get rid of it or she would do it for him.
Well, Brian thought, that just wouldn't do. Especially knowing, even at the tender age he was at the time, what "getting rid" of something meant to Debbie. Debbie had taken pity on her young charge and had decided to give it to one of the local boys, a youth by the name of Emmett Honeycutt.
Brian figured that at least the kitty had a good home. That is until he saw the kitty when they were all out playing together. Emmett had decided that 'Bronze' was now to be his little dolly. Emmett had dressed the kitten in every Cabbage Patch Doll dress he could find.
The worst part was that he usually picked colors that clashed with its tawny fur. This was just unacceptable to Brian. There were times he felt that maybe he should take young Emmett in hand and explain to him how this was not an okay thing to do. If that didn't work, and this was be a last resort because Brian was not known as a violent boy, he would show him the business end of his fist. There were other times when he felt it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference and he should just put the damn cat out of its misery.
Luckily for Bronze, the situation had been taken out of his hands by a car on its way through town for a joyride.
The car never stopped. Bronze was now out of its misery and Emmett was oblivious to the loss.
Brian looked over to the other side of the benchseat of his old Ford truck. There lay the boy. Actually the boy had a name. It was Justin Taylor. Brian had gathered from all the information in Justin Taylor's wallet that he was 19 years old, a Sophomore at the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts and had several allergies. He was also a member at the GALC which confirmed what Brian had hoped and believed to be true - that he batted for the same team as Brian himself. Brian was just hoping that he was a catcher for that same team what with the ass the kid had.
The kid was still knocked out with his head propped against the passenger window. Brian thought he probably should have shot Justin up with some of his sedatives so he wouldn't wake up at an inappropriate time. The motorcycle and the thing were in the bed of his pick up. His cover story wouldn't work on the kid if he woke up and looked in the back.
That would be very, very bad.
Brian noticed the boy starting to stir. Shit! He just wasn't having any luck.
There was some groaning and Justin's lips started to move and there was some actual eye activity going on. Double Shit! If only the kid could hang on for just a little longer, Brian would be in the free and clear.
Justin's head rolled forward and blue eyes opened blearily. The boy then licked his lips and stared straight at Brian.
"Are you God?," the kid asked sleepily.
Brian chuckled while staring straight ahead. "Hardly," he replied.
"Am I dead?" Justin asked with a look of bewilderment on his face.
"No," Brian said. He leaned over and brushed some stray hairs out of Justin's face. "Go back to sleep. I'm taking you somewhere safe," Brian said softly.
"Okay," Justin said while resting his head back again and falling into another deep sleep. "Safe. Safe is good..."
Safe was relative in the home Brian lived in. How was Brian to explain he was taking the kid out of the frying pan and into the fire via the meat grinder if this all went badly with Debbie. He realized he needed to try. He felt a certain protectiveness towards the kid.
And its this little fact that pissed Brian off to no end. He hated feelings of any kind. Brian always felt that feelings and emotions should be dealt with like people - hunted, trapped, gutted and then mixed with some ingredients and turned into a tasty breakfast treat. But Brian knew better than that. It just didn't happen like that.
No, it wasn't anything too deep or revelatory for Brian. The simple fact was that the world was an ugly place and just like the kitten before, the boy was beautiful and needed to be protected. There was also the fact that Brian had plans for the boy himself that did not include him being served for breakfast.
Brian convinced himself that it would be fine. Debbie would probably take the kid in - she had strict standards for who she used; the kid probably didn't fall into them.
But just in case, Brian would keep an eye on Justin. There was no way in Hell that he could stomach seeing Justin in a dress that clashed horribly with his delicate skin tones under Emmett's care.
If that were to happen, he would have to show one much older Mr. Honeycutt the business end of his hunting knife.
Go to Chapter 4
Feedback is welcome....I think......