scars

Scars
By Firefly Lover

Note: I do not own any of the House of 1000 Corpses characters, I write for
the enjoyment of others..please don't sue me.

Disclaimer: Includes violence, H/C between two men, m/m
relationship, and gore. Hint at Incest, N/C. If these things offend you,
please do not read on. Otherwise read on to discover what ties Otis and
Rufus together.

Author's Note: So, where did Otis's scars on his lower back and thigh come
from? Why is there an unshakable dynamic between him and his brother Rufus?
What is grandpa Hugo alluding to when he declares that Otis is ungrateful in
House of 1000 Corpses?


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Chapter 1: Wounded

The truck's engine was frustrating me at this point, so much that I
didn't even hear the other car approach rapidly into the driveway. I heard the
gravel spray as the vehicle dashed into the yard but ignored it. No towing
meant no paycheck. "God damn it." I said as I stood up. My back was
aching and if I could throw an engine, I probably would have at this point. I
sighed, lowering my head back under the hood. Maybe if I tried this
another way...I heard yelling and rushed feet upstairs. I could hear John
indistinctly yelling, Mama was crying. What the hell had happened? I flew
up the stairs. My panicked eyes couldn't see anyone I could only hear the
calamity of everyone yelling.

I finally came across Baby racing down the hall. I reached out and grabbed
her by the arms, bending over so I could level my eyes with her. "R.J..."
She sobbed. "R.J. it's Otis, he's hurt...he's out in the car..hurt real bad...."
Her words were racked by her sobs. I pulled her into my arms momentarily
to comfort her, the hot tears from her eyes staining the front of my shirt. I
gently released her before fleeing out the front door.

I raced to the small compact car. I could see Otis's hair smashed against the
window, I was carefully opening the passenger door when the smell of blood
hit me. His pale eyes were distant, staring off into space. "Otis?" I gently
stroked his hair out of his face. It was then that I saw the wadded up towel
against his lower back, his blood had soaked it through. I gently slid my
hand under his neck when I noticed a wave of fear pass over his eyes. "Easy
now, everything's gonna be okay." He was probably in shock and a thousand
miles away. I ensured his head was cradled in my hand before I slid my other
arm under his knees. I pulled him from the car carefully and hurried him into
the house. He moaned softly as I rushed him through the chaos inside.

"The fuckin' hit went wrong! Otis got all shot up trying to protect
my ass!" John was howling as Mama tried to clean his wounds.

Tiny approached Otis apprehensively, reaching out his hand to
touch him. "He's gonna be okay, don't worry none. Go take care of Baby,
okay?" I asked. He slowly nodded his head, not taking his eyes of our
brother. I turned and headed up the stairs when I felt Otis's breathing
becoming labored. "Come on, hang in there. I've got ya." I kicked open
his bedroom door and gently laid him on the bed. Damn it, no blankets
except that stupid orange one he liked to sleep with. I raced off to Mama's
room and grabed her quilt and a thick blanket.

When I came back his eyes were aware and he was panting in
pain. I eased myself onto the bed realizing that every movement sent
shocks of pain through his body. Gently pulling him into my arms, I
wrapped the blankets around him. He cried out before collapsing back
into panting. "Easy, easy. Shh. Come on now, shh." I comforted him for
the next half an hour, reassuring him and stroking that silky white hair.

He was just settling down when grandpa came slamming through
the door. "How bad he hurt?" Grandpa scanned him with an expert eye
and produced his medicine sachet.

"Blood's everywhere from his back..." It was then that I noticed
blood seeping through from his thigh. "And apparantly something here."

"Okay, cut 'em off" I was stunned for a moment but then noticed
the shining scissors that the old man was impatiently holding for me. I
gently cut through Otis's jeans. Fuck he would be pissed, these were his
best pair. I just had finished at his pant cuff when I realized that the denim
was stuck in his thigh wound. I moved up to check in with my brother,
leaving the problem for a minute. His teeth were grinding and his nails were
gouging the bed. His eyes were squeezed shut, his chest rising rapidly as he
panted. "Keep him occupied while I do this." I watched in horror as Grandpa
began to pull the fabric out of the wound. Otis screamed and threw himself
backwards into my arms. "Hold 'im, R.J.!" I could tell that Otis was getting
ready to take a swing at Grandpa.

I got a good grasp on Otis, restraining his arms. "Easy, easy." I
whispered in his ear, earning a few moments of serenity long enough to
finish the job. Otis was coughing and trying to catch his breath, wheezing
noisily. I stroked his hair trying to calm him. His entire body was tense,
his eyes a mix of agony and rage. I began gently massaging his back and
shoulders, letting his mind be distracted by the comfort. He finally caught
his breath and collapsed against me in exhaustion.

"Hang on a minute, I think I might have something to help him."
Grandpa scurried out of the room. I leaned up slightly to get a look at his
thigh. A long fissure was gouged out of his flesh, reddish purple lines
radiated out of it. Blood and pus flowed from the wound. Grandpa returned
with a syringe and a vial. I recalled that Otis had a hatred of needles but
I figured at this point he probably didn't care. The old man flicked the
syringe and quickly found a vein. "Easy boy, this'll help ya." I felt my brother
tense and then relax.

He produced a second vial from his shirt pocket, which he
administered. "Why didn't you use them earlier?" I asked as I watched Otis
begin to blink rapidly and try to keep conscious.

"I had forgotten I had them in the heat of all of this." Grandpa
waved his hand dismissively.

"What are you giving him?" I asked.

"Morphine and a sedative. Morphine for the pain and to calm his
ass down and a sedative to make double sure he's calm before I start
workin' on him. You forget how nasty Otis can turn when he's all worked up
'n pissed off?"

I absently began stroking his hair. "Yeah, I know." I watched as
he stared grogilly forth. I could still hear a wheezing with his breath. "Is he
sick?"

"Probably, sounds like a bad cold or somethin'. The infection
probably lowered his immune system." The old man gestured towards the
ugly wound, before settling out his tools. "Okay I need you to find me some
towels and go and ask Eve is she has any old bedding.

I reluctantly slunk out of the room. I ran into Mama before I could
realize that someone was standing there. "How's my boy?" She asked tearfully.

"He's gonna be okay. Grandpa's takin' good care of him." I hoped
she didn't catch the lie. I wasn't sure at all if he was going to be okay.
"Grandpa wanted me to get some towels and some old bedding.."

"And water!" Grandpa's muffled voice interjected through the door.

"Come on, baby. We'll go get what he needs. Don't you worry none,
okay?" How did she always know what I was thinking? She reached up and
gently stroked my hair.
It made me smile when I realized that she had to stand on her toes
to barely reach my hair. "Okay."

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Next chapter coming soon