Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Well, this was absolutely shit.

And Stone didn’t mean it in a ‘oh, I am a bit hungry today’ or ‘damn, the bar ran out of potatorade FOR THE FIFTIETH TIME THIS MONTH’ way, today was much worse.

He meant it in a ‘Skipp’s on the verge of a panic attack, Vinnie is trying to handle the knife in her side without literally dying, and Stone definitely has a couple broken ribs’ type of way.

For some context; Ditch.

For even further context: Ditch is a fucking asshole.

But we knew that already, so maybe more context isn’t needed.

Skipp was pleading with Vinnie to go to a doctor, which they couldn’t afford anyway, so it was kind of hopeless even to mention. Sure, after a quick look over, Vinnie wasn’t going to die. The knife went straight through the muscles on her side.

So not fatal.

But in Vinnie’s words, it apparently ‘HURT LIKE A *** ****** ****  WHO***** ****** *** **** AND ***** **** ****’

These are censored because even Stone winced hearing them, and he swears like a sailor 24/7. A drunken sailor 24/7. Which, annoyingly enough, may have been what gotten them into that whole mess.

The drunk part, not the swearing, duh.

Okay, so maybe he got a little huffy when he ran out of booze and headed to the bar. Maybe he wasn’t paying attention to the sound of that knife sharpening as he walked. Maybe the cigarette he was smoking didn’t help his fighting skills because it made his head all fuzzy.

All just maybe’s, possibilities, who knows for fact, right? Hahah… right?

In all truthfulness, Stone feels incredibly guilty. But then again, he wasn’t really about to apologise. He never did. Plus, Vinnie would probably wrench the knife out of her side and throw it at him if he tried. Stone sat on the ground, watching as Vinnie  and Skipp continued to freak out, and gently feeling his ribcage.

Definitely a few broken ones, not even to mention the hole in my foot-

Oh yeah, he got shot.

In the foot, but to quote Vinnie, it still ‘HURT LIKE A *** ****** ****  WHO***** ****** *** **** AND ***** **** ****’

When did Ditch’s gang get guns? Horrible decision really, now it was just going to mean even more misery for the scrap trio.

If Stone thought getting his nose broken in a fist fight hurt once, the searing pain through his foot fixed that idea up real quick. Being punched is fine in a fight, if anything, it gives you the adrenaline to get up rearing to go. Being shot? Whole other extremely painful story.

Skipp managed to get of relatively scot-free, much to the relief of Stone and Vinnie. If something happened to the ball of sunshine, they’d probably burn the world to avenge him.

Didn’t stop him from majorly panicking though.

              “Okay, okay, this is fine-“ Skipp was mumbling to himself, a rather poor attempt to stay optimistic in Stone’s opinion. None of this was fine.

Ditch’s goons had ambushed Stone in that alleyway and gave him a good knocking. He woke up in a cell, with Skipp trying desperately to hold back Vinnie, who was growling at Ditch like a dog with rabies who had also coincidentally been given candy (which was basically equivalent to crack cocaine) earlier this morning.

Stone had felt a bit like that too when he realised what had happened and was fully ready to lunge at Ditch through the cell bars when he sat up.

Instant excruciating pain! Yay!

He’d known then something was definitely broken, and the throbbing at the back of his head where he’d been bashed (with what he later found out had been a brick) wasn’t helping.

In fact, Stone was lucky to be alive.

He didn’t feel very lucky then.

He didn’t feel very lucky now, either. Vinnie still had a knife in her side, and Stone was also bleeding. Skipp was almost hyperventilating over the injuries, and the taste of blood probably in his mouth from his busted lip probably wasn’t helping.

Safe to say, that escape attempt had been completely bungled, but at least they got out without dying.

And now all three were possibly bleeding out in an alleyway, so that was nice.

Stone groaned. With that stab wound, while it didn’t hit any organs (Stone thought, or maybe it was hope. If Vinnie died neither Skipp or Stone would know what to do. She was the annoying, confident, loudmouthed glue that stuck their trio together.) Vinnie could still bleed out, and that would be bad.

He groaned loudly, knowing what was probably the best move in this situation, but not exactly liking it. They needed someone with a warm house, food, and knowledge on injuries.

Stone hated asking for help. Especially from Tre.

They hadn’t really talked in ages, and knowing him, Tre would try to arrest them if the trio arrived on his doorstep. But while having a strong obedience to legality, Stone knew his moral code ran even stronger. And if three bleeding people showed up?

Tre would cave in thirty seconds.

There are some advantages to having your ex-childhood-friend be rich.

Stone got up, experimentally putting weight on his shot foot and wincing. The walk to Tre’s house, which normally would be easy, was going to suck ass, but he had to do it, for all of their injuries.

              “Come on, I know a place where we can get bandaged up” he told Skipp and Vinnie, who looked up at him. They’d been attempting to locate any spare fabric to bandage Vinnie’s wound before pulling the knife out. They’d learned the hard way a couple years back that pulling a knife from a stab wound before you could patch the wound properly caused more issues then solved them.

Skipp smiled, wiping a couple stray tears from his face. Hey, at least it removed some grime. “Yeah?” he asked, pulling Vinnie to her feet, who said several more things that would definitely get her cancelled in this day and age.

Stone nodded, still keeping his face expressionless, even though he felt awful for Vinnie. “Mhm. Follow me” he said, monotone as always, before starting off.

He was only a few steps in when he realised it wasn’t some epic leading walk, but a rather amusing hobble, due to his foot shooting pain throughout his entire left calf. Stone scowled, willing his legs to actually walk instead of being noodles.

Vinnie got stabbed, and she’s walking alright!

Stone didn’t protest when Skipp came up beside him to help him walk, but he did stiffen like he always did at the contact. Using the blond as a crutch (a rather short and talkative one, but he let it slide), Stone hobbled his way to the familiar tall house he knew Tre lived in.

Banging on the door, Stone leaned on the wall as he waited for Tre to answer. He had pointedly ignored the wretched doorbell, both him and the brunet had despised it since they were kids, the noise was ear shattering.

It took a while, and Stone started to wonder if Tre wasn’t home. it was almost evening, so he’d probably be off work right now, and he doubted he’d be off to grocery shop-

Stone was starting to realise how little he knew about Tre anymore.

              “Stone, maybe your person we’re here to see isn’t home-“

Skipp is interrupted by the door slamming open, and an extremely frazzled Tre stands there, looking like he’s consumed four cups of coffee in the past hour and pissed off. Vinnie and Skipp just attempt to process that the police officer who has tried to arrest them many times is apparently Stone’s go-to guy when they’re dying.

              “Why wouldn’t you just ring the fucking bell-“ Tre cuts himself off, processing who was standing there. Stone only then realised how much he’d probably misjudged the situation. Not only was he showing up to a cop’s house covered in blood, he and his friends were well known criminals.

Yeah, he’d probably fucked up.

Stone was about to open his mouth to explain when he was cut off by Tre and Vinnie yelling at him in perfect unison; “Stone, what the fuck”

Well, if there was anything they could bond on it would be yelling at him.

Stone sighed, deciding to address Tre first, even though Vinnie looked like she was planning an escape route.

              “We’re injured” Stone started, only seeming to piss of Tre anymore, who looked about three seconds away from ripping his head off. “Well fucking obviously!” he said, looking over the blood staining Vinnie’s shirt with abject horror. to be fair, they looked like horror movie victims. Stone was bleeding through his left shoe, there was still blood dripping from Skipps chin, and the entire side of Vinnie's shirt was stained red. Stone couldn't help but rolling his eyes though. 

For a cop in training, Tre was an absolute fucking wuss.

Stone pointedly ignored Tre interrupting him and continued; “And my friend is quite badly injured. She’s been stabbed. I know how good you are at patching wounds; you did enough of mine when we were teens, so I’m asking for a favour.”

Tre was glancing at all the injuries, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’m a cop, you three are thieves, and you’re coming to me for a favour? Are you kidding- I should arrest all three of you!” he said, and he looked like he was genuinely going to. His eyebags suggested he hadn’t slept in days, and the annoyance in his eyes was undeniable.

For a sinking moment, Stone thought he was wrong. Tre wasn’t going to help- he’d been incorrect. It had been years since he’d properly talked to him- was it five now? He hadn’t even told him when he was going to run away. Tre bit his lip for a few more moments, clearly fighting between legality and morality. Stone was about to tell him never mind, before the brunet let out an odd mix of a shriek and a groan, frustrated out of his mind.

              “Get your ass inside! I have tests to study for you asshole, I’m not failing because you and your stupid friends-” Tre yelled, stomping off into the house, voice trailing off as he disappeared down the hallway to his kitchen.

Stone almost smiled at that, letting out a tiny sigh of relief and entering, beckoning Vinnie and Skipp to follow him. The blond headed in no problem, looking at the inside of the rather large house with interest.

Vinnie, however, was less trusting. “Stone, what the actual fuck? What do you mean get bandaged up here, he’s a cop-“

               “Vinnie, yeah, he’s a cop. But he also happens to be a past friend of mine, and I’m not letting you bleed out on the street because you’re too fucking stubborn to accept help! I’d rather you be in jail then dead, quite frankly” Stone cut her off, sighing.

The two stared each other down. Two extremely stubborn individuals against each other was probably never going to work, and Vinnie snapped back at Stone. “We could be both- if we get arrested, we could get hanged- we have almost been hanged because of him!”

And even Stone could admit (begrudgingly) that it was a good point.

Vinnie wasn’t going to budge until Stone caved in, he knew her well enough. So he did cave in.

              “Yeah. I know. But that’s his job, Vinn. You have to trust me on this, I know him. He’ll help.” Stone almost pleaded, which, while extremely embarrassing, worked. Vinnie scowled, clearly not pleased that she’d been convinced, but never the less, stepped inside.

              “If we get arrested, I’m murdering you before we get hanged” She muttered, storming past him to follow Skipp. Stone accepted those terms, shutting the door behind her and following.

 Tre called from the kitchen. “ALL OF YOU ARE SHOWERING BEFORE YOU SIT ON ANY OF MY FURNITURE!”

Chapter Text

Tre, while maybe being a grumpy asshole a lot of the time, cared. He cared quite a bit, even though he pretended he didn’t. Stone could tell. He had the same worried anxious look on his face he always did whenever Stone used to get into fights when they were teens.

Rummaging through his kitchen cabinet, Tre pulled out a large green first aid kit, unzipping it and standing back up. A small part of Stone’s mind felt guilty for dumping all this on him. After all, Tre had never handled a literal stab wound before and was probably freaking out over it.

The brunet sighed, heading over to Vinnie, who was sitting on a chair (she hadn’t showered) and eying him with distrust. Tre had decided Vinnie’s wound was the most pressing out of her, Skipp and Stone.

Skipp was in the bathroom, washing off, as Tre had insisted. Which was fair, all three of them were absolutely filthy

They all had dried blood on them (both their own and members of Ditch’s gang’s) and were completely covered in grime and dirt. Plus, being homeless and sleeping on trash every night didn’t help.

Pulling a needle and medical thread from the first aid kit, Tre spoke up, still sounding irritated and pissed off, but there was an underlying layer of worry there too. “You really should be going to a doctor- I’m no medical professional, I can barely do stitches” he said, anxiously, eying the knife still in Vinnie’s side.

Vinnie huffed and was probably about to say something incredibly rude and insulting, but Stone cut her off.

Don’t bite the hand that’s going to stitch you up, Vinnie.

              “We know. But we can’t afford a doctor, hell, we can hardly afford food, Tre. That’s why we’re here” he said, leaning against the kitchen sink. Tre huffed at him, begrudgingly accepting that answer. He was acting annoyed about it, sure, but Stone could see the flash of worry and understanding in his eyes.

              “Fine. I still think it was stupid to come to me” Tre said, threading the needle and looking at the knife like he was deciding what to do. Vinnie nodded in agreement with him and was about to say something when she was cut off by Tre pulling the knife from her side.

              “OW- FUCK” Vinnie yelled, as Tre pressed a towel to her side, Stone coming over to help. She continued to curse as Stone applied pressure, scowling at the brunette, who was getting rubbing alcohol from the first aid kit so he could clean the wound.

              “Did you have to give her no warning?” Stone gritted out as Vinnie punched a nearby cabinet, which didn’t do much except bruise her knuckles. Tre sighed, and the exhaustion in his eyes made Stone shut up. “Yes. You came to me for help, and I’m helping. So let me”

Stone accepted that, nodding in annoyance. It was true, he dumped all the responsibility for their injuries on the cop, and he was doing his best. He could see that.

Didn’t annoy him any less though.

☆

Almost an hour Vinnie and Stone were completely stitched up. It hadn’t been easy, and Tre looked even more exhausted, but it got done. Tre sighed, sitting on his kitchen floor cross-legged, leaning back against his cabinets. Stone joined him, sitting next to him.

              “…Thanks” Stone said eventually, looking over his bandaged foot. Tre nodded you’re welcome, sighing again. He sighed a lot nowadays. Vinnie (and Skipp) had passed out on his couch, much to his displeasure, given that she still hadn’t showered.

So much for ‘all of you are showering before you sit on any of my furniture’

It was 11PM, and Tre had kind of just accepted that the trio would be sleeping in his house tonight. He wasn’t pleased about it, but he couldn’t shove them out. Again, his moral code ran deeper than his legal code.

Stone just fidgeted with his bandages for a little more, before Tre spoke up. “Have you eaten today?” he asked, running a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. Now that Stone wasn’t focused on his and his friend’s injuries, Tre’s eyebags processed for him, and he felt bad he sprung all this on him.

              “No” Stone replied honestly, earning him a glare from Tre. “Have you slept today?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend(?), who glared at him again, before sighing and shaking his head. “No.”

Stone nodded. It was what he had expected, Tre was always bad at getting to sleep, even when they were teens. After a moment of awkward silence between the two of them, Tre got up, swinging the door to his fridge open

Stone, attempting to follow him, had completely forgotten about the hole in his foot.

Wincing, he sat back down, letting out a hiss of pain as he did so. Tre glanced over in concern. “Don’t get up!” he told him off, annoyed, as Stone rolled his eyes. Of course, Tre was going to be a concerned mother hen over him.

              “Bit late” Stone remarked sarcastically, frowning at the bandages on his foot. That was going to be an inconvenience for a long while. How were they going to be able to pick pocket people with their injuries? They’d be about as slick as gravel.

Tre sighed, pulling a bowl from his fridge and sitting back down next to Stone. Shoving it into his hands, he leaned back against the cabinets, rubbing his eyes. Stone considered the bowl, which was full of pasta. He looked back to the brunet with surprise.

              “Uh...”

              “I’m not about to let you go without food, Stone. Even if you are-” Tre rolled his eyes, “-A criminal now. Which I don’t endorse, by the way, but I’d still rather you didn’t die” he huffed, acting all aloof, but it wasn’t fooling anyone.

Stone stared down at the bowl of pasta for a couple moments as Tre rummaged in his kitchen drawers for cutlery for him. It had been so long since someone had just… handed him food. Without him needing to do something illegal or immoral to get it.

Excluding Vinnie and Skipp of course, they gave him food, but that’s because they share everything between the three of them.

The last time Stone had been handed a bowl of food (albeit cold, but beggars can’t be choosers) had been before he ran away. And even then, he was never really handed it. His parents didn’t care what he did, so he got his own food.

Stone didn’t want to think about before he ran away.

But nonetheless, it was pleasant to not have to fight tooth and nail for sustenance.

The minute Tre handed him the fork, Stone dug in, and despite being cold (and probably a few days old) it was probably the best thing he’d eaten in a long time. Including the beans Maggot had given them (Sorry Maggot, but Tre’s good at cooking)

Tre just watched, an expression of amusement on his face as Stone wolfed down the bowl. Before he ran away, Stone didn’t eat much. It was why he was such a twig all the time. But since then, he’s only gotten worse, and Tre was worried about how emaciated he looked.

              “When was the last time you ate?” Tre asked, holding back a yawn. Stone shrugged, finishing the bowl and placing it on the floor. Tre watched, incredibly unimpressed, as the taller boy wiped his mouth clean with his jacket sleeve, which was already very grimy. Tre would have to wash that later

God curse his stupid heart for making him want to take care of these fugitives.

              “Think we ate yesterday. Vinnie managed to snag a loaf of some seller table…” Stone trailed off at the annoyed look Tre was giving him. Right, thievery, doesn’t endorse that. Stone just rolled his eyes at the brunet, crossing his arms.

              “Look Tre, I know you don’t like it, but if we don’t steal, we starve and die” Stone said bluntly, not sugar coating it in the slightest. “So which do you want? Would you rather me be a criminal? Or dead?”

Tre huffed, staring at his hands. “..I wish you hadn’t run away in the first place. Or I wish you had told me. I want there to be a way you didn’t have to do either” he muttered, and it was surprisingly honest and candid for the cop-in-training. Even Stone blinked at that, not really expecting it.

He recovered quickly though, returning his face to the normal expressionless dead look he always had.

              “Well, there isn’t- I couldn’t stay.” Stone huffed. “You’d understand if I told you” He waved it off, voice deadpan. Tre scowled at him, clearly not pleased with that answer in the slightest. “Then why don’t you tell me?” He asked, challenging Stone.

Because I can’t

Stone had never told anyone about Avrille and her experiments. No one would believe him anyways, and if the word got back to her-

He couldn’t go back there.

He’d rather starve than let her win.

Stone, instead of opening up, shut down. Typical. So, to get Tre off his back, he snapped at him “Because it’s none of your business!”

Tre scowled more at that, and Stone felt bad. Not that he would ever apologise. He never did. It would be weird for him to say sorry, he never did it. Stone just remained silent for a while, before speaking up, begrudgingly.

              “Thanks for the food, Tre” he said quietly, and Tre nodded, scowl fading. “You’re welcome.” He muttered.

After a few more moments of incredibly awkward silence, Stone pointed out the obvious.

              “You need sleep-“

              “Fuck you, no I don’t”

Chapter Text

Stone woke up with remarkably less painful knots in his back then usual. Perks of sleeping in Tre’s house, he supposes. Vinnie and Skipp are still sprawled across the couch, the brunette snoring loudly and the blond looking like he’d had the best sleep of his life.

Then again. Skipp always slept like that.

Stone could still feel the pain in his foot, but it had lessened. It would definitely start burning the minute he put his weight on it, but he’d live. He’d been through much more than a bullet in the foot.

(Well actually, Stone had never been shot before. But the pain was alright considering some of… the agonising chemical stuff Avrille had injected into him in the past, so oh well)

Stone sat up on his… bed? Tre had pulled out a spare mattress and some blankets, and it was sweet how much he had fussed. Even him snapping at Stone when he said he could just sleep on the floor was nice. It was pleasant(?) to have someone seem to care about him, even with something that trivial.

Tre had a strict night routine, as Stone quickly remembered. Interrupting that had caused him to have to sit through a five-minute yelling session from Tre, whilst he furious scribbled some study notes about something or a rather. Stone wasn’t even listening. He’d tuned out the brunette’s yapping a long time ago, back when they were teens. It was, however, shocking how normal it seemed.

It had been years. Five, actually, since they had talked, since Stone ran away. And yet, Stone didn’t feel pissed off or particularly annoyed when Tre chewed him out over little things. It was just like when they were kids. Before everything went to shit with Avrille and his parents.

Tre’s schedule actually hadn’t changed, much to Stone’s surprise. Everything was strict and rigid, with set times and alarms, and if something changed? Well, Tre would practically have a meltdown. Which isn’t new, now that Stone’s considering it. He’d always needed at least a day’s notice of any major change, and without it he would freak out. The taller boy never cared about that stuff, he’d just deal with it, but Tre acted like the whole world was going to end.

Stone almost smiled at the thought. He’d always been an overdramatic little shit, but it was funny most of the time.

Am I reminiscing? Ewww.

Stone shook that thought off, going back to his normal scowl. He just had to wake up early? Neither Skipp nor Vinnie were up, and the weirdly ornate clock on the wall said it was only seven thirty, and the sun had barely even risen! Tre probably wasn’t- oh wait, no, he woke up at seven every day- How did Stone know that?!

God curse my apt listening to him yap about his schedule when we were 13-

Stone groaned at the sound of birds singing. They had no right being up this early. Ignore how the sun was all the way up, it interferes with Stone’s complaining.            

He can hear humming from the kitchen, along with radio, so he assumes Tre is making breakfast. Not for them probably, he’s done enough. Stone should probably wake up the other two and leave before they bother Tre further. It’s sort of odd. Stone has never cared about being a burden or in the way before, but with his old friend- eugh. He doesn’t like caring, it’s annoying.

Despite what Stone should do, he find himself getting up and wandering (Not really, more limping. Bullet hole in foot, yayyy) to the kitchen to see what’s cooking.

Tre was humming to himself along with the crackle of the radio song that was coming through. It was cute- NO NO NO NO NOT GOING THERE NOPE NOPE NO WAY- and Stone just watched for a bit. Thank goodness Stone was fantastic at keeping his face neutral, because any other person would probably have smiled. Ew. Smiling. Stone could never. However, he was sick of staying in silence, so he spoke up.

                  “Tre.”

The cop in training let out a loud yelp, spun around, and almost whacked him with the plastic spatula. Stone ducked quickly, and the cooking utensil hit the doorframe with an oily whack that left grease dripping down the plaster. Stone scowled at Tre, straightening up. “Really?”

Tre huffed, picking the spatula up, and rinsing it off in the sink. “Shut up idiot! You gotta tell me when you come in the room, I could’ve bloody hurt you!”

“…Ah yes. The plastic spatula, oh, what a fatal weapon. I could’ve died. Please, spare me” Stone said dryly, rolling his eyes and wandering (again, limping) to the stove. The bacon almost made his mouth water, and it wasn’t lost on him that Tre definitely couldn’t eat that much.

Tre snorted, trying to quell back laughter with a scowl, but failing miserably. Stone didn’t think it was that funny, but eh, he says dry shit like that all the time and Vinnie and Skipp always laugh at it, so maybe it is. It’s nice to hear Tre laugh though. It’s been a few years.

Tre yawned loudly, turning his attention back to the bacon, and whacking Stones hand away with the spatula as he tried to nick a piece straight from the pan. “Oh noooo, I’ve been wounded” Stone said, before immediately trying again, which earned him another whack.

                  “Does burning oil and bacon fat mean nothing to you, dumbass?” Tre asked, frustrated, and Stone just shrugged. Years on the street, many, many bar fights, the whole ‘Ditch’ nuisance, and protecting Maggot had taught him how to fight, yes, but handling pain was definitely one of his strong suits. Not to mention Avrille-

Stone shuddered at the thought of her.

                  “No. Give me some bacon”

                  “Ask nicely”

Stone scowled. Asking nicely was not one of his strong suits. If the trio needed to ask nicely for something, they had Skipp for that. He was their mediator in a way, the sunshine glue that sticks all three of them together. Without him, Stone and Vinnie would most definitely have ripped each other to shreds looooooong ago.

                  “….”

Tre raised an eyebrow at him and shook his head. “You’ll get bacon when it’s finished, you impatient twat.” He said, elbowing Stone in the arm and frowning at it. “You’re skin and bone. What on Earth happened over the past five years?” he asked. Stone shrugged, never one for feelings, openness, or honesty.

                  “Stuff” he mumbled, looking for a change in conversation. “Are ya just cooking bacon?” he asked, opening up Tre’s pantry and snooping, much to the latter’s annoyance. Tre’s larder was fully stocked, with jars of numerous cooking pastes and spreads, oils, sauces, tea- he had it all. Stone hadn’t seen this kind of food in years, and this was just the pantry.

Tre rolled his eyes, resigning himself to cooking for four this morning. “Ugh, if you grab eggs from the fridge I’ll cook those for you three- there’s sausages too, those probably need to be used up before Sunday” he mumbled that last bit under his breath, but he didn’t miss Stone’s face light up as he went to the fridge. The sight set a small smile on his face.

Stone grabbed the food, mouth practically watering at the smell of the bacon that was still filling the kitchen. He didn’t eat much, even when they had food, but they hadn’t eaten in days- asides from yesterday- and God knows all three of them could do with a little fattening up.

After way more cooking, a couple more oily whacks on the hand and reprimands for Stone, and some weirdly comfortable conversation, the two’s increasing comfortability towards each other was destroyed by a grimy girl barrelling into the room, followed by the scrappy blond. “DO I SMELL BACON-“Vinnie yelled happily, eyes shining with glee as she rushed in, but tripped over the chair and fell over, taking it with her.

Skipp yelped and went to help her, and Tre simply sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. Stone couldn’t help but mentally agree with him, holding back an amused smile. Which quickly stopped when he remembered that she had been stabbed the day before, and he went to help her with Skipp.

                  “For fucks sake, you reckless bitch” Stone grumbled as he pulled her up, but Vinnie was laughing, so he wasn’t entirely concerned. “That had to hurt” he said, looking over the bandage wrapped area of her side, which had some dark dried blood from the night before, but nothing new yet. Stone would thank the lord for that, but he would definitely be reprimanding Vinnie for this later. Skipp was also fussing but was still sneaking gleeful glances at the frying pan on the stove.

                  “I’m fine! Don’t get your panties in a twist, Stone” Vinnie said, laughing, and Skipp laughed with her, worry lessening as she laughs. “Oh, Vinn, you need to be more careful! We don’t want to have to redo your stitches” he beamed, pulling her into a hug, because of course he would. Vinnie nodded, looking over his shoulder at the stove.

                  “But seriously, is that bacon?”

Chapter Text

After their breakfast, Vinnie was greatly appreciative, any wariness having been quickly dissipated by food. Stone almost rolled his eyes with how open she was with Tre now, the budding cop not being quite as receptive. Vinnie burped loudly, and Stone could see Tre’s eye twitch with irritation.

Skipp was also very thankful, spewing information about practically anything he could. He’d clearly already made the man into his new best friend, although said best friend was very overwhelmed by this attention, eyes darting to Stone with concern as Skipp attempted to hug him. That was about the time Stone decided to wrap it up.

                  “Okay, I think it’s time we head back to our respective home” Stone said, gathering Vinnie and Skipp like they were wayward sheep. Chaotic wayward sheep at that. His limp made him remarkably slower than normal, and he couldn’t help but scowl down at his foot.

Vinnie sighed dramatically, nodding and heading to the door, nicking a decorative statuette from the coffee table as she went, which thankfully Tre did not notice. Stone just sighed, rubbing his temples, as Skipp showered the cop with thank yous and affection, even as he was very obviously politely rejecting it. Stone grabbed the blond by his shoulders and steered him to the door, waving a short goodbye to Tre, who only dignified it by nodding in his direction, before dumping the dishes the four had produced into the sink.

Once Stone had chucked his friends from the house, he turned back around to Tre, who had followed them to the door. There was an awkward silence, before Stone broke it, resigning himself to now being in Tre’s debt.

                  “…..Thank you. You need anything, and I’ll be… around” Stone said, not one for mushy goodbyes or talks or conversations. Tre nodded stiffly at that, passing Stone a bag that felt it was full of rocks. A quick glance inside told him he wasn’t far off, as it was cans. He looked up at him quizzically for an explanation, which was swiftly provided.

                  “Stay safe, and don’t starve. I can’t promise I won’t have to arrest you three if you keep robbing places, so if you must-“ Tre sighed heavily, like he was thoroughly displeased with the idea, “- do try to not get caught” he huffed, adjusting his hat. Stone nodded at that, accepting those terms. It was typically what the three did try to do, but now didn’t really feel like the time for snark.

                  “Goodbye, Tre” Stone said, holding out his hand for the other to shake, which was about as affectionate as he got. Tre chuckled, taking it and giving it a firm shake, before shutting the door. Stone turned to his friend to leave, bag slung over his shoulder.

He pointedly ignored Skipp and Vinnie’s glances at eachother from in front of him, both being faster walkers then him now that his foot was useless. Lighting up a cigarette, he thought about the situation.

He hadn’t gone to Tre’s to reconnect, and he wasn’t particularly nice to him while they were there, beyond his normal behaviour. Stone didn’t have to suck up to him, or plead, or bring the past. Tre just helped, even though he had an outstanding warrant for their arrest and had been stressed when they arrived.

It was terribly annoying how much he missed the boy.

Not in a sappy way. Stone didn’t love, or even like people. He hated everyone and everything, and didn’t care about much at all. He drank and smoked and wouldn’t give a flying fuck if a past friend was fine or not. Especially not one who helped him for no reason at all.

Shame that was all a lie.

Stone did care, but it was safer not to. Caring got him in bad places, like his sister’s laboratory, or Ditch’s lair. Caring hurt him, and those around him, so it was easier to hide it.

Stone was brooding, and he knew it, face set into a scowl as he released the smoke. It wasn’t doing him any good to dwell on Tre. He was just an old friend, that Stone had used for his own survival. Simple as that.

But something that simple couldn’t leave a tiny, miniscule ache of longing in Stones heart.