Rainbow Brite And El Camino Part 9a

Fandom: Original
Pairing: Camino/Brite
Setting: Camino’s head/Deedee’s living room
Summary: Camino looks inward and doesn’t like what he sees.
Rating: V for violent depictions or NC-17 if you prefer.
Owned by: Me. Duh.
Rainbow Brite And El Camino Part 9a
　
Camino sat in the wobbly chair in Deedee’s kitchen, balancing himself with his left leg extended outward on the scarred linoleum floor. Although used today for a specific purpose, it was a familiar posture. His mother used to pick on him over it. Then when he started “bringing that Bright girl around” as she called it, she thought it was cruel the way he forced her to balance there. It was like he was a broom horse on an incline and admittedly he got off on it. The way she fall off his leg sideways, pitching over. Then in a desperate attempt to catch herself she’d get all wide eyed, put her hands out and either bend her fingers back, roll her shoulder, or land on her face or head. He honestly thought it was funny until he saw blood. Bumps. Bruises. Hitching or limping.
His own capacity for causing pain was shocking, true.
But why did she put up with it? Why would anyone?
He watched Deedee and Brite in the living room chattering on about nothing as women do. Deedee proudly solved a puzzle on “Wheel of Fortune.”
The camera leaving his minds’ eye and the memories to sit and taunt him.
He dumped the remains of his soup, rinsing the bowl and placing it in the sink. He followed the wide angled lens as it entered the dusty room, motes floating visibly in the light shafts cast into the room through the windows.
This place needs ventilation. He thought. And a humidifier. Suddenly I can’t breathe. Shit dude. What the puck is wrong with me? Are panic attacks like germs?