{"sf1_id":1488376,"sf2_id":"rm8xGGqm","title":"The Leaves of Fall Act 2: Fear the Nobodies (Part 2)","author":"Oliver_Hart","words":2214,"posted_at":"2019-09-12T23:17:44.000Z","tags":["Adventure","Alternate Reality","Anon","Boy","Brother","Bunny","Classroom","Couple","Emo","Fight","Girl","Green text","Greentext","HMOFA","Halloween","Heterosexual","High School","Hmofa/","Human","Kissing","Plot Development","Rabbit","Siblings","Slow burn","Young Romance","anthro/human"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1488376-the-leaves-of-fall-act-2-fear-the-nobodies-part-2","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/rm8xGGqm","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/1d/42/1d427e3c-18c8-480a-9a2e-71f51386c6be","description":"You've never really 'fit in' with the heavily divided Ranchview High School crowd. Jock, Goth, Prep, Cheerleader, Nerd... you were never any of these. But as Halloween approaches, strange things start happening, and a dark ritual begins with the finding of a curious red book. It's a race against time for you and your friends to stop a group of students from ushering in an age of darkness, and to also figure out just what the hell is wrong with that rabbit.  \n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  \n  \nAbout this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.  \n  \nCover: [https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q](https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q)  \nSam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) [https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT](https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT)  \nFan art collection: [https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv](https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv)  \nAccompanying playlist (WIP): [https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410\\_nI-0J](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J)  \nAlternative link: [https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078](https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078)  \nTotal word count: 147,552 words","content":"\\\u003eBe Sam  \n\\\u003eAnd you’re not going to cry  \n\\\u003eIn fact, you don’t really have any good reason to cry – you made a mistake, you disobeyed him, you violated his wishes  \n\\\u003eYou deserved the bruises on your shoulder, the angry marks on your arm  \n\\\u003eThankfully you learned how to hide them with your brother’s old clothes  \n\\\u003eAnon had just left after dropping you off, leaving you alone in your room, only the sound of the TV in your ears  \n\\\u003eYou’re not even sure what time it is, but sleep is long past the point of possibility  \n\\\u003eLike most rabbits, your survival drive is extremely high. It’d take a hell of a lot to get you to calm down  \n\\\u003eIn fact, you’re still shaking  \n\\\u003eYou prop up a broken chair against the single window in your room so you can look out at the old abandoned warehouse next door  \n\\\u003eYou shut your eyes and try to listen for the sound of strumming on a guitar, the heavy thump of a bass, the pop of a drum kit  \n\\\u003eBands sometimes rent the warehouse out to practice or record  \n\\\u003eThere used to be a human band that played…  \n\\\u003eWhat did they play?  \n\\\u003eIt was slow and kinda soft, you think there was a trumpet?  \n\\\u003eIt made you feel like jelly though  \n\\\u003eEven the memory of those soft, gentle notes was enough to take you away from this place  \n\\\u003eYou imagined yourself playing in one of those bands, not saying much on stage, but not needing to say anything at all  \n\\\u003eAll that confusion and heartache gone with the opening notes  \n\\\u003eWould you play drums? You’ve got the foot speed for it  \n\\\u003eYou could see your music soundtracking a super hero’s journey  \n\\\u003eSamurai Outlaw, her bat wheeling and spinning, clearing a room of bad guys while the guitarist and drummer go wild  \n\\\u003eFantasy is where you were safe, and when you didn’t feel safe, you drew things  \n\\\u003ePictures, mostly superhero costumes, but sometimes other things  \n\\\u003eYou’ve still got that stash hidden in your roo-  \n\\\u003eThe shriek of a train’s whistle stops your fragile little heart  \n\\\u003eThe ground starts to rattle and shake, you can feel the heavy sound resonating in your chest  \n\\\u003eBringing you back to that day-  \n\\\u003eNo no no no no no  \n\\\u003eYou grab at your own throat  \n\\\u003e-The day that everything went quiet  \n  \n\\\u003eBe 11-year-old Sam  \n\\\u003eYou’re in your shared room  \n\\\u003eThere’s noise reverberating throughout the house  \n\\\u003eYour older brother Jacob hands you a sock stuffed with loose gravel and tells you to hold it  \n“I-I don’t-” you start to protest  \n\\\u003eJacob crouches down to eye level. He’s exhausted, the gravity of sleep pulling at his eyelids.   \n\\\u003eHe pushes his ears back and taps an aluminum baseball bat against his broad shoulders  \n\\\u003eJacob doesn’t play baseball — but he knows how to use the bat. You’ve seen him beat Joseph from down the street so bad he had to go to the hospital  \n\\\u003eWhen Joseph was of course kicking your shit in  \n\\\u003eAt least he makes you feel safe sometimes  \n\\\u003eThe sounds of heartbreak comes rushing from under the door — muffled shouting, the climax of a love gone wrong, choked sobs, drunken anger — the things you and your older brother know to be love  \n\\\u003e”Sam, look at me,” he says, exhaling, trying hard to maintain his composure and keep from getting frustrated. “If anyone tries to EVER hurt you, I want you to tell me, okay? Just like with Joseph. But before that, I want you to hit them with that heavy sock. Right in the head. You got it?”  \n”But I don’t w-want to hurt anyone” you pull hard on your ears, like you could just pull the blinds on your shitty home and tune it all out  \n\\\u003eJacob taps you on the arm, and you release your vice-grip  \n\\\u003eBlood comes rushing back to your ears  \n\\\u003e”Did you hear me? I’m trying to look out for you, okay? But you also need to look out for yourself and stop being such a little kid. I’m not always going to be around.”  \n\\\u003eThe weighted sock feels like it weighs 100 pounds. Your arms tremble, adrenaline and desperation the only things lending you any amount of strength  \n”Even if it’s Dad?” You ask  \n\\\u003eYour brother’s shoulder’s slump. He opens his mouth to speak  \n\\\u003eThe door shoots open  \n\\\u003eYour mother, a tired middle-aged looking woman with worn and dirty fur, amber eyes swollen with pain, scowls at you two  \n\\\u003e”Are you two still here?” She slurs, the sting of bourbon heavy on her tongue. “I told you to get the hell out of here. And don’t come back for a few hours.”  \n\\\u003eJacob stands up to his full height, his knuckles tightening around the bat  \n\\\u003e”We heard you. I was…” He quickly glances back at you. “…I was just telling Sam some stuff.”  \n\\\u003eYou’d nod, but your whole body locks up when you see your mother glaring at you — and then she turns that same spiteful look at Jacob  \n\\\u003eYour older brother, 17 by now, doesn’t back down, his face darkening, jaw clenching up like a coiled spring ready at a moment’s notice  \n\\\u003eYour mother digs into her purse and throws a handful of wadded up bills at you  \n\\\u003e”Here. Go. Make yourself gone for a few hours. Your uncle Richard’s coming over in a few.”  \n\\\u003eYou collect the bills and quickly dart behind your brother, dropping your make-shift weapon in the process  \n\\\u003eHe stiffens at your touch, his shoulders seeming to broaden when he feels you cowering behind him  \n\\\u003eProtective reflexes, likely  \n\\\u003eYou were only 11  \n\\\u003eYou guess Jake felt pretty strongly about protecting you  \n\\\u003eBut then there was this whole thing about teaching you to fend for yourself  \n\\\u003e”Even if you’re a girl,” he said once, “you just gotta hit a wolf in the nose, and they’re down. Humans, aim for the shins. That’s all you have to worry about. Rabbits? Right in the chest.”  \n  \n\\\u003eMom lets a side gust of air out of her lips. “You think you’re some kinda man with that bat? What do you think you’re gonna do, hit your own mother? Boy, I’d break your fucking ankles if you tried to touch me.”  \n\\\u003eJacob’s powerful legs tense. You watch and pray that he doesn’t lose his temper, so much like dad’s mean streaks  \n\\\u003e…  \n\\\u003e…  \n\\\u003e”You ain’t no mother. You’re a liar.” He says, marching forward  \n\\\u003eMom steps aside  \n\\\u003eYou follow your brother out of your room and towards the door, keeping close to his formidable shape and his shadow of safety  \n\\\u003e”You’re a liar and a whore,” Jake says  \n\\\u003eMom just starts laughing  \n\\\u003e”Guess I know where you got your smart mouth from,” she says. “Now get the hell out of here.”  \n\\\u003eYou don’t need a second invitation. Though your home is small, Dad’s managed to tuck himself in the kitchen, and you can already smell the reek of his whiskey, the sting of his cigarettes  \n\\\u003eYou know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help yourself  \n\\\u003eYou look behind you, into the kitchen, and see him at the table, the trails of smoke rising from his lips, the heavy bottle of amber liquid by his side  \n\\\u003eHis eyes are red, face burnt out and ashen, that devil smirk as you walk by  \n\\\u003eIt makes you start to shake worse  \n\\\u003e”Oh, and Sam?” your mom coos from your room. “Make sure your retarded brother doesn’t do anything stupid. Can you do that for me?”  \n\\\u003eYou nod timidly, if only to do something with your body  \n\\\u003eWhen you face forward your heart freezes as you catch the side-eye from Jacob  \n\\\u003eHis expression is ice cold when you two walk out the door  \n\\\u003eYou can practically hear him muttering ‘traitor’  \n  \n“Jake?”  \n\\\u003e”What?”  \n“I- I don’t understand why you and m-”  \n\\\u003eHe stops walking, his bat dragging across the shattered sidewalk  \n\\\u003eHis body turns, and when you see his face you could swear you see dad’s hateful glares etched into his skin  \n\\\u003e”Of course you don’t understand. You don’t understand shit, Sam. You’re still just a little kid who doesn’t know anything about… anything.”  \n\\\u003eThe sun burns your fragile skin, light brown fur offering little protection — your brother’s old hoodie the only thing clothing you, besides an old pair of jeans  \n\\\u003eHis scorching look dims a little when he sees you start to tense up  \n\\\u003e”Come on,” he says, pointing down the street with the silver tip of his bat. “We’re going this way.”  \n\\\u003eYou don’t argue, and you don’t drag your feet  \n\\\u003eJake has no interest in matching your meager pace, so you keep up as best you can  \n\\\u003e”Mom’s a cheat,” he says after a long bout of silence. “With uncle Richard. She’s been cheating on dad.”  \n\\\u003eAnd then he looks down at you  \n\\\u003e”You’re probably Uncle Richard’s kid.”  \n“B-But-”  \n\\\u003e”But that doesn’t make it your fault. It just means you’re a coward like him. And mom. Remember what I said back at home?”  \n\\\u003eYou shake your head, trying to grasp what’s being said  \n\\\u003e”If someone comes to hurt you — I take it back. I’m not always going to protect you. I can’t. Not anymore. Maybe when you were little, from mom, or dad, or anyone at school, but you’re older now.”  \n\\\u003eHe stops walking  \n\\\u003e”Do you understand that?”  \n“N-No… I don’t understand a-anything!” You squeak loudly, wrinkling your nose. You want to cry  \n\\\u003eBig kids don’t get to cry. Nobody gets to cry at your house  \n\\\u003eBut that doesn’t stop you from tensing your throat up and fighting back tears anyway  \n\\\u003e”God, when are you going to grow up!?” Jacob lets his bat drop against the concrete, the metal chiming like thunder strokes on a hot day  \n\\\u003eInstinctively, you jerk backwards, squeaking like you’d just been caught with the clothes iron by mom again  \n\\\u003eJake is still trembling with anger, but when he sees you shuffling backwards, he takes a long, slow breath and unclenches his fists  \n\\\u003eDarkening, he reaches down and grips the bat, lifting it up to you  \n\\\u003e”Here. You take this.”  \n\\\u003eYou stare at his offering and look down the nameless street  \n\\\u003eNobody is coming — no cars, nobody on the sidewalks  \n\\\u003eNobody cares  \n\\\u003e”Sam?” He says, lowering his voice. “Take the bat. And let’s keep going, okay?”  \n“O-Okay,” you stammer, wrapping your spindly fingers around the thin base  \n\\\u003eIt’s a lot lighter than you expected  \n\\\u003eIt makes you feel safe  \n  \n\\\u003eThe two of you walk in silence until you get to the gas station, where Jacob buys you a soda and some gum  \n\\\u003eHe buys himself some cigarettes and a soda  \n\\\u003eHe lights up as you two keep walking, the ramshackle houses thinning out and fading into pastures and sheds, the sun overhead dissipating like a drop of amber into the hazing sky  \n\\\u003eWhen the light slants, orange with the dying flames of the day’s end, and you two arrive at the old rail car yard, he stops you  \n\\\u003e”Sam?” He says. “I want you to watch what I do.”  \n\\\u003eHe looks immensely tall and fierce in the eyes of the sunset.   \n\\\u003eStanding far away from the tracks, you watch, gripping the bat like an anchor to reality  \n\\\u003eJake stands on the tracks, facing the darkness of a tunnel, his legs and body spread wide  \n\\\u003eA pinhead of light glows in the darkness ahead  \n“J-Jake?” You squeak. “There’s a train coming-”  \n\\\u003e”I know there’s a train coming!” He barks. “That’s why we’re here. Are you watching me?”  \n\\\u003eYou step forward, body guided by concern  \n\\\u003eThe train whistle shrieks in the tunnel as it rockets out of the darkness, its yellow head charging forward like a railed bullet  \n\\\u003eJake doesn’t move from the tracks as the train hurtles closer and closer  \n\\\u003e”YOU CAN’T ALWAYS BE SUCH A LITTLE BABY, SAM!” He screams above the panicked shrieking of the horn  \n\\\u003eYou can hear the steel brakes crying out desperately to stop, to avoid the kid standing dead ahead on the tracks  \n\\\u003eThey yell at him to move  \n\\\u003eInstead you stop moving  \n\\\u003eMove, you will yourself  \n\\\u003eMove  \n\\\u003eThe train is trying to brake but it can’t  \n\\\u003eMove  \n\\\u003eYour body is locked up like a car in the wrong gear  \n\\\u003eIt can only tremble with the need to move forward   \n\\\u003eJake doesn’t look at you  \n\\\u003eMOVE  \n\\\u003e”YOU NEED TO LEARN HOW TO F-FEND FOR YOURSELF!”  \n\\\u003eYou can see his whole body shaking  \n\\\u003eHe can feel the rush of wind from the train barreling forward  \n\\\u003eHe shuts his eyes  \n\\\u003eEverything goes quiet  \n\\\u003eHe tenses his legs  \n\\\u003eTightens his muscles like a spring  \n\\\u003eAnd jumps to the side at the last possible second, rolling into you, knocking you off your feet and onto your back  \n\\\u003eHe lays there, his weight crushing down on your tender body  \n\\\u003eYou can feel him shaking  \n\\\u003e”F-Fucking…” he whispers, trying hard to hide his panic beneath the train’s evaporating whistle  \n\\\u003e”See? See Sam? You— God— You can’t be afraid. Fear will destroy you.”  \n\\\u003eHe sits up  \n\\\u003eYou can see the tears stinging his eyes  \n\\\u003eYou can feel his body trembling on top of you, pinning you to the dirt  \n\\\u003eHe looks away, down the track, as the train rolls on  \n\\\u003e”And, when you’re older, sometime soon... It’ll be your turn on the tracks.”","series":{"name":"The Leaves of Fall","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1487176-the-leaves-of-fall-act-2-fear-the-nobodies-part-1.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1489921-the-leaves-of-fall-act-2-fear-the-nobodies-part-3.json"}}