Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2024-11-20 05:13 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2024-11-20 05:13 pm
Fanfiction: No Way Out (The Coffin of Andy and Leyley)
The Coffin of Andy and Leyley really grabbed me, as you can probably guess from the fact that I'm posting a fic the day after finishing the game. I can't stop thinking about these two! They're such a mess!
Title: No Way Out
Fandom: The Coffin of Andy and Leyley
Rating: 14
Wordcount: 1,500
Summary: Andrew and Ashley try to cope in quarantine.
Warnings: Canon-typical incestuous implications.
“The warden came by when you were in the shower,” Ashley says. “He said the quarantine’s been extended for another two weeks.”
“What the fuck?” Andrew demands. “We were supposed to get out tomorrow!”
Ashley shrugs. “Well, apparently we don’t.”
“Like hell we don’t.” He strides over to the front door, starts hammering on it. No answer.
Ashley leans back against the kitchen counter, watching him. There’s only so much entertainment in this place, and seeing Andrew lose it is always good value. “Don’t be a baby. It’s only being at home. You can’t handle staying indoors?”
Andrew drops his fists to his sides. Breathes harshly in and out for a moment, still staring at the door.
“Should’ve guessed this wouldn’t bother you,” he says, eventually. “It’s not like you ever go out anywhere.”
“I go out shopping,” she points out. “That technically qualifies.”
“This is exactly what you want, isn’t it?” he asks. “I can’t go anywhere. I can’t see anyone. I just have to hang out with you. Good to know we’re both living in your perfect world.”
“You’re right, Andrew,” Ashley says. “I personally put parasites in the water for the entire building, because you’re just that fucking important.”
He closes his eyes. Takes some more time to breathe in and out, a little more deeply, a little more steadily.
“Sorry,” he says at last, opening his eyes. “I know you’re stuck in this situation as well.”
“Do you hate being with me?” Ashley asks.
“I hate being trapped here,” Andrew says. He seems to hesitate, just for an instant. “It’d be worse on my own.”
She’s better than nothing, apparently. She’d like something a little more definitive, a little more enthusiastic. There’s no one else I’d rather be with.
Still, she’ll take it. Better than nothing.
-
Now that their access to television has been mostly cut off, the options for passing time are pretty limited.
They read books. They play cards. They play Monopoly, even though they both hate Monopoly. They lean on the balcony railing, looking down at the bastards who still have their freedom, and speculate on what they’re thinking.
(“They’re all miserable that we’ve been locked away in this building for a month,” Ashley declares, “because we’re so smoking hot.”)
“I’m bored of this,” Ashley says at last, dragging Andrew back indoors. “Let’s piss off the wardens.”
Andrew winces. “They made some pretty fucked-up threats last time. I don’t know if we want to test whether they were serious.”
“Well, I want to test it,” Ashley says, “and I think we should settle it by wrestling. We never wrestle any more.”
“Correct,” Andrew says, “because we’re not eight years old.”
But he fights back when she lunges at him, both of them laughing.
-
“Quarantine broadcast’s about to start,” Ashley calls.
Andrew comes in from the bedroom. “Move your legs.”
Ashley, sprawled comfortably over the entire couch, pretends not to have heard him.
Andrew stands looking at her for a moment. Stoops down, tries to force her legs off the seat with his hands. Ashley just digs her heels more firmly into the cushions.
He sits on her shins.
“Ouch! Hey!” She struggles to kick for a couple of seconds, until he half-rises and lets her yank her abused legs up to her chest. “Jesus.”
He sits in the space her legs have vacated, turns on the television. They watch the white noise in silence for a moment, waiting.
“Did I hurt you badly?” he asks.
Ashley takes a few seconds to think about that.
“I was mostly just surprised,” she says. “Did you want to hurt me badly?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “No. You were just being a shit, so I wanted to be a shit back.”
Ashley raises her eyebrows. “Well, congratulations: you have definitely succeeded in being a shit.”
-
Another two weeks added to their sentence.
“They’re never letting us out.” Andrew presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “We’re going to die here.”
Whatever Andrew says next in his little tantrum, Ashley doesn’t catch it. “What?”
“Oh.” He drops his hands. “Forget it. We’re still not talking about it.”
“Hey, no, tell me.”
Andrew groans. He looks deeply uncomfortable. “I was just thinking... you think this is how it felt for Nina?”
“Who’s Nina?” Ashley asks.
Andrew stares at her for a few seconds.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Never mind.”
-
The third time the quarantine gets extended, Andrew doesn’t freak out at all. He just sighs, quietly, and turns the television off.
Ashley didn’t like it when he accused her of wanting this, back when they found out about the first extension. But, if she’s honest, he wasn’t wrong. Every time more time gets put on the clock, a part of her is relieved.
By this point, it feels almost normal. It’s starting to feel like there was never a world outside their apartment, like her memories of it are just a weird dream she had once.
It’s easier without Mom and Dad here. Without anyone else. Just her and her brother.
-
“We’ve been in here for a long time,” Ashley says, lying idly on the carpet. “Do you think your girlfriend remembers who you are?”
“We still talk on the phone,” Andrew points out.
“Fine,” Ashley says. “Do you think she remembers what you look like?”
It takes him a moment longer to answer that one. “It hasn’t been that long.”
“Do you remember what she looks like?”
“Shut up and go to bed.”
-
“The food delivery’s late again,” Andrew says, frowning. “I’ll ask the warden about it. But we might need to be more serious about rationing, if this is going to be a recurring thing.”
Ashley rolls her eyes. “Rationing sucks.”
“It’s that or running out of food, and I’m pretty sure you know which one’s worse,” Andrew says. “I’m not starving here. If there’s nothing left, I’m going to eat you.”
Ashley waggles her eyebrows.
“Ugh.” He scowls. “Don’t be weird.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realise the conversation wasn’t weird already,” Ashley says. “If you’re talking about literally chewing and swallowing your adorable little sister who has never harmed a soul, I guess that’s completely normal.”
-
It’s been a week of rationing. The food deliveries still aren’t back to normal. They’re both getting increasingly hungry and anxious and short-tempered.
Andrew snaps at her for ‘accidentally’ cooking more pasta than he measured out. She vents her feelings by spending two hours howling expletives off the balcony. When Andrew warns her that she’s wasting energy, that she’ll only end up more hungry, she delights in screaming harder.
She climbs into Andrew’s bed that night. He doesn’t open his eyes or say anything, but he puts an arm around her, and she buries herself into his side.
She lies there for a while, listening to the beat of his heart.
“Why don’t you like me?” she asks at last. Her throat still feels a little raw from all the screaming.
“Right,” Andrew says. “Yeah, I forgot I only let people I hate cuddle up to me.” He tousles her hair. “I love you. You’re my sister.”
“I don’t want you to love me because I’m your sister,” she says. “I want you to love me because I’m me. If we weren’t siblings, how would you feel about me?”
It takes him a long time to answer. Too long. She’s starting to think he’s had the audacity to fall asleep while they’re talking.
“I don’t think the question really makes sense,” he says at last. “We’d be different people if we weren’t siblings. I mean, I definitely would be.”
He’s right, of course. She can’t really picture it, a world where they just happened to meet as strangers. The idea makes her kind of uncomfortable.
“I wonder who I’d be if you’d never been born,” Andrew says, after a pause.
She doesn’t like the question. “Nobody interesting.”
Andrew laughs, quietly. “I guess not. I feel like being interesting might be overrated.” A pause. “How about you?”
“I think being interesting is great,” Ashley says. “I’ve been interesting all my life, and I’m a big fan.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. Who do you think you’d be if I didn’t exist?”
She likes that question even less.
“I don’t exist if you don’t exist,” she says. “You’re the first kid. It changes when our parents decide to have the next one, it changes when they fuck. There’s no world where I get born and you don’t.”
They’re both quiet for a moment.
“I could have died when we were young,” he says.
She shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure I still wouldn’t be here.”
A few more seconds of silence.
He rolls to face her, pulls her into his arms. She tucks her head under his chin.
“I’m—” The words seem to choke him for a moment, like they’re the wrong shape for his throat. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I don’t just want you to love me,” she mumbles against his collarbone. “I want you to like me. I want to be the only one you like.”
“You know, it’s that kind of thing that makes it really difficult to like you.”
She pulls away just enough to glower at him.
He laughs and presses a kiss into her hair. “Night.”
When she sleeps, she dreams about cutting him open and climbing inside him and curling up in his ribcage, safe and warm.
Title: No Way Out
Fandom: The Coffin of Andy and Leyley
Rating: 14
Wordcount: 1,500
Summary: Andrew and Ashley try to cope in quarantine.
Warnings: Canon-typical incestuous implications.
“The warden came by when you were in the shower,” Ashley says. “He said the quarantine’s been extended for another two weeks.”
“What the fuck?” Andrew demands. “We were supposed to get out tomorrow!”
Ashley shrugs. “Well, apparently we don’t.”
“Like hell we don’t.” He strides over to the front door, starts hammering on it. No answer.
Ashley leans back against the kitchen counter, watching him. There’s only so much entertainment in this place, and seeing Andrew lose it is always good value. “Don’t be a baby. It’s only being at home. You can’t handle staying indoors?”
Andrew drops his fists to his sides. Breathes harshly in and out for a moment, still staring at the door.
“Should’ve guessed this wouldn’t bother you,” he says, eventually. “It’s not like you ever go out anywhere.”
“I go out shopping,” she points out. “That technically qualifies.”
“This is exactly what you want, isn’t it?” he asks. “I can’t go anywhere. I can’t see anyone. I just have to hang out with you. Good to know we’re both living in your perfect world.”
“You’re right, Andrew,” Ashley says. “I personally put parasites in the water for the entire building, because you’re just that fucking important.”
He closes his eyes. Takes some more time to breathe in and out, a little more deeply, a little more steadily.
“Sorry,” he says at last, opening his eyes. “I know you’re stuck in this situation as well.”
“Do you hate being with me?” Ashley asks.
“I hate being trapped here,” Andrew says. He seems to hesitate, just for an instant. “It’d be worse on my own.”
She’s better than nothing, apparently. She’d like something a little more definitive, a little more enthusiastic. There’s no one else I’d rather be with.
Still, she’ll take it. Better than nothing.
Now that their access to television has been mostly cut off, the options for passing time are pretty limited.
They read books. They play cards. They play Monopoly, even though they both hate Monopoly. They lean on the balcony railing, looking down at the bastards who still have their freedom, and speculate on what they’re thinking.
(“They’re all miserable that we’ve been locked away in this building for a month,” Ashley declares, “because we’re so smoking hot.”)
“I’m bored of this,” Ashley says at last, dragging Andrew back indoors. “Let’s piss off the wardens.”
Andrew winces. “They made some pretty fucked-up threats last time. I don’t know if we want to test whether they were serious.”
“Well, I want to test it,” Ashley says, “and I think we should settle it by wrestling. We never wrestle any more.”
“Correct,” Andrew says, “because we’re not eight years old.”
But he fights back when she lunges at him, both of them laughing.
“Quarantine broadcast’s about to start,” Ashley calls.
Andrew comes in from the bedroom. “Move your legs.”
Ashley, sprawled comfortably over the entire couch, pretends not to have heard him.
Andrew stands looking at her for a moment. Stoops down, tries to force her legs off the seat with his hands. Ashley just digs her heels more firmly into the cushions.
He sits on her shins.
“Ouch! Hey!” She struggles to kick for a couple of seconds, until he half-rises and lets her yank her abused legs up to her chest. “Jesus.”
He sits in the space her legs have vacated, turns on the television. They watch the white noise in silence for a moment, waiting.
“Did I hurt you badly?” he asks.
Ashley takes a few seconds to think about that.
“I was mostly just surprised,” she says. “Did you want to hurt me badly?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “No. You were just being a shit, so I wanted to be a shit back.”
Ashley raises her eyebrows. “Well, congratulations: you have definitely succeeded in being a shit.”
Another two weeks added to their sentence.
“They’re never letting us out.” Andrew presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “We’re going to die here.”
Whatever Andrew says next in his little tantrum, Ashley doesn’t catch it. “What?”
“Oh.” He drops his hands. “Forget it. We’re still not talking about it.”
“Hey, no, tell me.”
Andrew groans. He looks deeply uncomfortable. “I was just thinking... you think this is how it felt for Nina?”
“Who’s Nina?” Ashley asks.
Andrew stares at her for a few seconds.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Never mind.”
The third time the quarantine gets extended, Andrew doesn’t freak out at all. He just sighs, quietly, and turns the television off.
Ashley didn’t like it when he accused her of wanting this, back when they found out about the first extension. But, if she’s honest, he wasn’t wrong. Every time more time gets put on the clock, a part of her is relieved.
By this point, it feels almost normal. It’s starting to feel like there was never a world outside their apartment, like her memories of it are just a weird dream she had once.
It’s easier without Mom and Dad here. Without anyone else. Just her and her brother.
“We’ve been in here for a long time,” Ashley says, lying idly on the carpet. “Do you think your girlfriend remembers who you are?”
“We still talk on the phone,” Andrew points out.
“Fine,” Ashley says. “Do you think she remembers what you look like?”
It takes him a moment longer to answer that one. “It hasn’t been that long.”
“Do you remember what she looks like?”
“Shut up and go to bed.”
“The food delivery’s late again,” Andrew says, frowning. “I’ll ask the warden about it. But we might need to be more serious about rationing, if this is going to be a recurring thing.”
Ashley rolls her eyes. “Rationing sucks.”
“It’s that or running out of food, and I’m pretty sure you know which one’s worse,” Andrew says. “I’m not starving here. If there’s nothing left, I’m going to eat you.”
Ashley waggles her eyebrows.
“Ugh.” He scowls. “Don’t be weird.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realise the conversation wasn’t weird already,” Ashley says. “If you’re talking about literally chewing and swallowing your adorable little sister who has never harmed a soul, I guess that’s completely normal.”
It’s been a week of rationing. The food deliveries still aren’t back to normal. They’re both getting increasingly hungry and anxious and short-tempered.
Andrew snaps at her for ‘accidentally’ cooking more pasta than he measured out. She vents her feelings by spending two hours howling expletives off the balcony. When Andrew warns her that she’s wasting energy, that she’ll only end up more hungry, she delights in screaming harder.
She climbs into Andrew’s bed that night. He doesn’t open his eyes or say anything, but he puts an arm around her, and she buries herself into his side.
She lies there for a while, listening to the beat of his heart.
“Why don’t you like me?” she asks at last. Her throat still feels a little raw from all the screaming.
“Right,” Andrew says. “Yeah, I forgot I only let people I hate cuddle up to me.” He tousles her hair. “I love you. You’re my sister.”
“I don’t want you to love me because I’m your sister,” she says. “I want you to love me because I’m me. If we weren’t siblings, how would you feel about me?”
It takes him a long time to answer. Too long. She’s starting to think he’s had the audacity to fall asleep while they’re talking.
“I don’t think the question really makes sense,” he says at last. “We’d be different people if we weren’t siblings. I mean, I definitely would be.”
He’s right, of course. She can’t really picture it, a world where they just happened to meet as strangers. The idea makes her kind of uncomfortable.
“I wonder who I’d be if you’d never been born,” Andrew says, after a pause.
She doesn’t like the question. “Nobody interesting.”
Andrew laughs, quietly. “I guess not. I feel like being interesting might be overrated.” A pause. “How about you?”
“I think being interesting is great,” Ashley says. “I’ve been interesting all my life, and I’m a big fan.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. Who do you think you’d be if I didn’t exist?”
She likes that question even less.
“I don’t exist if you don’t exist,” she says. “You’re the first kid. It changes when our parents decide to have the next one, it changes when they fuck. There’s no world where I get born and you don’t.”
They’re both quiet for a moment.
“I could have died when we were young,” he says.
She shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure I still wouldn’t be here.”
A few more seconds of silence.
He rolls to face her, pulls her into his arms. She tucks her head under his chin.
“I’m—” The words seem to choke him for a moment, like they’re the wrong shape for his throat. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I don’t just want you to love me,” she mumbles against his collarbone. “I want you to like me. I want to be the only one you like.”
“You know, it’s that kind of thing that makes it really difficult to like you.”
She pulls away just enough to glower at him.
He laughs and presses a kiss into her hair. “Night.”
When she sleeps, she dreams about cutting him open and climbing inside him and curling up in his ribcage, safe and warm.
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