Collared Heart Ch 1 - TG

The man studied the ticket in his hands for a moment, trying to smooth out the slightly crinkled paper. He'd been crumpling it in his pocket on the way over here, something he was afraid the conductor might make a big deal over. The date was mostly visible; it just had a crease inside of the day.

He gave up the effort for lost, deciding he'd simply talk the conductor down if it came to it. He checked the number of his train in the meantime, scanning the amassed trains over the head of his crowded station mates, and smiled when he found it. Working his way gently through the throng he made his way towards the train proper, wincing a little when he heard the warning whistle. He sped up his passage, gently pressing people to the side as necessary. He was careful not to trip anyone, but not catching the train wasn't an option for him. He was fairly certain he'd never find the courage to buy another ticket if he missed it.

He got his foot in the door before the train started closing and grunted a little when the door pressed against his foot. The door seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then reopened, allowing him to climb on with a sigh of relief. He laughed a little, too, though it didn't feel too heartfelt; the irony of the situation wasn't lost on him, but the humor seemed entirely intellectual.

He tried for a moment to give himself a mental shake and rid himself of the funk, but gave up the attempt as a lost cause a moment after, choosing instead to move towards the seats before the conductor started coming down the path.

He paused before he'd made it half way, staring blankly at a young girl who was standing in front of him. Pretty thing; would most likely grow up to be a heartbreaker. Brown hair that curled up in bangs towards her forehead, and against her neck; the furthest strands just barely brushed her shoulder. It was a style he'd been seeing a lot of, recently. He thought it was a sign of his mental state that he stared at her for so long, trying to process what to do next. She was clearly struggling, trying to lift a bag half her size into an overhead compartment that stood high above her.

"Here, I got that." She squeaked in some surprise when he pressed his hands beneath the luggage, grunting with the effort of taking the weight off her hands. He could feel her glaring angrily at him, but the look faltered when their eyes met. Her brown eyes were pretty; they reminded him of his mother's a little. He was fairly certain that thought could be counted as creepy.

Blushing, he gave the luggage one last shove, pushing it fully into the overhead compartment and backing away from her. The glare had softened into a stare, but it was unrelenting, tracing his form up and down; being next to the tiny thing made him feel like a giant. He often avoided children for that reason; they made him feel self-conscious about his size.  He was definitely slipping to have forgotten that.

"Sorry," he muttered, looking away. "I should have asked first."

"It's alright." She smiled up at him, placing a hand against his arm and squeezing slightly. "You sure you didn't pull anything, though? You don't feel like you had the muscles for something like that…"

"I'm fine. It wasn't that heavy." She was glaring at him, again, and he backed away, his knees hitting the back of a seat. "I mean, you had it most of the way up already, so it wasn't that hard to just push it the rest of the way up."

She glared for a few moments longer and then laughed, coming towards him. "Do you always give way to fifteen year olds?"

He shook his head, trying a small smile; he wondered if she could tell it was faked. She snorted, pushing past him to sit by the window. "You going to sit down, or what?"

He sat obediently, but didn't say anything. He had thought the adults were supposed to be the creepy ones in situations like that, but she was still staring at him from the seat across.  Maybe he'd gotten something on his face while eating. Though he didn't know why she wouldn't have said something by then, if that was the case; it was creeping him out.

"I'm Abigail," she declared, sticking her hand towards him. He took it gingerly, wrapping his thicker fingers around her smaller hand. "Vince."

She nodded, not taking her eyes off of him.

"That's sort of creepy," he told her after a moment.

She frowned, running a few fingers through her hair. "I think it's sorta romantic… don't you think?" she smiled, placing a hand on Vince's lap. "Maybe we're secretly soul mates or something, you know?"

He shrugged, offering her a tight lipped smile. "Don't particularly believe in that stuff. And I'm pretty tired. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to-"

"Whereareyougoingtoday!?" There was a moment of awkward silence and then started again. "I mean, where are you going today? On the train? Um… if you don't mind me asking…"

"Grenshire," he muttered. She smiled, wiggling a ticket under his face too fast for him to see.

"Me too. Maybe we live next to each other, right?" she was beaming but he couldn't bring himself to return the gesture.

"Maybe," he whispered, shrugging his coat off and draping it a bit over his head. "Let me know when we get there, will ya?"

He thought she might have said something, but he wasn't sure; the dreams blanked him in darkness before he had a chance to even think on it.


Vince stirred when the train squealed to a halt, jumping a little when something touched him. Abigail had a goofy grin on her face which made him want to squirm. "You said to wake you up," she whispered quietly.

He nodded. "Thanks." The train was dark. He didn't think there were many people other than him and her, and it made him uncomfortable. He shrugged his leather coat back on after a few fumbles, half getting tangled in the sleeves. He passed no one on the way out, though he was dimly aware of Abigail following him, and walked with a quicker pace in the attempt to overcome it. He thought he heard her giggle.

He laughed when he found his pace quickening. She was a little kid; there was nothing she could do to him, really. But he wondered if anyone had bothered to tell her that, and he walked a little faster, feet clacking against the train as he stepped off the platform and moved in the directions of the town. Maybe he would be able to find a taxi, though he doubted it considering the relatively small area of his town.

There was only one or two people getting off the train in any direction, and none of them looking towards him. Maybe he could scream. No, he was being ridiculous. He nearly squeaked when he saw a glimpse of her hair, but there was no one there when he turned around.

It took a moment of concentration to make his breath calm down, his features relax, his hands unclench. It was surprisingly hard making himself smile at the night, as if there wasn't some crazy chick chasing him. She couldn't do anything that mattered to him, he reminded himself. She couldn't do anything that mattered. He just had to keep walking and everything would be fine, because she couldn't do anything that mattered.

He wanted to run. He forced himself not to do that.  He told himself it would get worse if he started running. That just because there was an echo of footsteps behind him didn't mean it had to be her. That just because everything was spinning out of control didn't mean a deranged girl was stalking him.

He sped up. He kept catching glimpses of her out of the corner of his eye, seeing her dart from place to place as if he couldn't follow her progress. He sped faster, as if he could lose himself in a nonexistent crowd, darting between the streetlights and struggling to remain in public view. It was hopeless; there was no public. He darted down an alley instead, quickly, something brushing against him in the process.

He spun around. Nothing, yet again.

"Looking for someone?"  she breathed into his ear. Small hands pressed against his broad body, catching him off balance and pushing him off his feet. He felt his shoes leave the pavement with muted surprise, the irony of his situation crashing down around him. He wondered why he'd even bothered running.

His head slammed into the wall; specks filled his vision as the rough bricks scraped against the surface of his scalp, a trail of blood left behind. She made a cooing sound above him, and a weight was added to his middle. She was straddling him, her thighs squeezing his sides. The distant thought entered his brain that she looked too young to be doing something like that.

"Wait just a moment, and I'll have you fixed up," she promised.

He didn't want to wait a moment. The thought wandered through his mind of whether that meant he didn't want to be fixed up, but the concept was too hard to grasp. At that moment, he had to get away. He had to move away from that crazy woman who had straddled him in an alley out of nowhere. That teenaged woman, he reminded himself.

His arm felt leaden. He felt dizzy. He thought for a moment that he'd forgotten how to move and a lance of fear spread through his body. He tried to scream, but his throat wouldn't move right. She was doing something on top of him, and he was afraid of finding out what.

He tried not to panic. He tapped a finger instead, relieved that he could. He moved his hand, his arm. He repeated the process with his left arm, placing his hands beneath him and pushing up. Nothing happened. A girl was on him. He didn't have the strength to lift himself and a girl that way.

His toes began to move, next. He was repaired to repeat the process, but the muscles froze instead a s the girl laughed, placing something cold against him. He could see it if he craned his neck, a chain link of metal that laid against his skin for a moment before beginning to sink.

He couldn't remember how to move anymore. There was metal sinking into his flesh and he didn't know how to move anymore. He wondered if he was a failure as a human being. Human beings didn't have metal sinking through their chest in the first place, though.


"Gotta seal this with a shock," she whispered.

A shock? There was metal melting into his chest. Nothing could shock him. Nothing could phase him. Nothing could affect him. He wasn't even sure he was still human.

Warm lips touched his. His eyes widened, staring into soft brown orbs for a moment, and then closed.

He blacked out.



It took effort for Vince not to close his eyes again as soon as he'd opened them.  There was a heavy weight on his chest, and his head felt weird. His legs arms and middle did too, for that matter; and there was a teenaged girl in bed with him, for that matter.

His eyes widened as he jerked away from her, his hand covering his mouth. Something still felt wrong with it, but he wasn't thinking about that. All that was moving through his mind is that the girl was stirring; in the bed; that he'd been sleeping in.

He moved further away, his hand touching air, and fell to the ground. The ground hurt his chest more than he would have expected but he was up within a few moments, scrabbling from the bed. He was naked; he wondered what he'd done. There was a red line tracing down his chest. "Oh, god, I'm bleeding…" his voice sounded weird.

More importantly the red line seemed strange. It was too solid for blood. He looked at it more critically, noticing for the first time that it trailed off his chest, winding all the way back up to the bed. A red thread embedded in his chest.

He stared a moment longer. His chest had lumps attached to it. He touched one and shivered in recognition; breasts. His chest had breasts attached to it. He couldn't feel his manhood.

The form on the bed stirred, the girl sitting up, clothed thankfully.  She smiled at him. "Hello."