Work Text:
Running away had always been Jeffrey's strong suit. He was cowardly. Weak, even. And so, so very afraid.
He had run away when his parents fought as a child. Disappearing off into the forest nearby his house and not coming back until he deemed it safe enough.
Sometimes his brother would come after him. To comfort him. To bring him home. Or to simply be near him, a grounding presence. Liu was calming, a soothing balm on all of Jeff's scrapes.
He had run away after killing Randy.
He had run from his home after killing his mother and father.
He knew Liu wasn't dead. He couldn't bring himself to kill him, even though his very heart and brain burned in protest, screaming at him to kill, hurt, and destroy.
He had run from his brother's mangled body, knowing he'd bleed out, knowing he'd likely die soon—even though he had left the other boy alive.
He ran from all of this, for a long while. Distracted himself from his fear by slaughtering more. It felt good in the moment, satiated the burning, but in the end only fueled his desire to run.
Until his final act of cowardice, where his own blood and soul was running from his very body.
He didn't feel the aching burn, the need to kill. Didn't feel the grief from all of the lives he had ended. His mother, his father, countless innocent people. No, not this time.
He felt at peace, bleeding out on the floor, knowing he was nothing but a cowardly dog that would not account for his actions. Afraid of everything, despite the brave, arrogant front he had put on.
And thus, the coward ran for the last time.