Loaf

Salem could barely think. No- that was wrong. She could think, but every thought felt like a dagger through her spine.

Useless trash.

The weapon pressed her eyes together, another hot tear squeezing from between her lashes and falling down her face. She tried to turn away, shake her head, but the truth liked to follow her anyways. 

Pathetic.

She had to get up. She was supposed to have been ready for the day an hour ago. She was supposed to be eating. Morning training in ten minutes. She liked training- she didn’t have to think in training- as much as she’d been capable of liking anything lately. Weapons shouldn’t need to like or dislike anyways. It’s what made her such a terrible one. 

He should have replaced you ages ago.

A muffled sob escaped clenched teeth.

You stupid fucking parasite. You can’t even get up. You can’t even pretend to be useful. To be worth the food. To be worth the blankets. To be worth the air. To be worth his time.

Her arms, tangled, squeezed so tight around her chest and stomach that her hands reached behind her, all the way to her wings. To where her nails dug deep enough to draw out streaks of sizzling crimson and where feathers lay broken and bloody beneath her palms. There were two things that made her useful, and she’d taken to destroying one of them every time she started to fray.

He should have left you in that little cell to lose your mind. It’s not like you can be any real use like this anyways. Better no one waste their time on anything but gathering phoenix tears so they can power better weapons.

Salem wished her mind would go away. Stop telling her what it knew. Stop thinking. Stop hurting. Stop being right.

You barely even make a sufficient factory. Those tears are the only thing from you worth keeping-

There was the sound of the door handle turning. The click was like a bullet through the weapon’s chest. It was Kayo, of course. She could feel it. The sound of his annoyed huff. The clack of his dress shoes. The swish of his perfectly tailored sleeves against the body of his shirt. Every sense was tuned to it. Of course it was. It had to be.

He’s going to see you like this he’s going to punish you for this he’s going to see how pathetic you are he’s going to hate you he’s going to see how useless you are he’s going to hurt you he’s going to see what you are he’s going give you what you deserve you fucking coward

“You were supposed to be ready for breakfast an hour ago, we have a presentation-“ There was a pause. The cadence of his steps breaking into a falter into silence. Kayo’s gaze burned like the force of a thousand comets crashing across Salem’s battered form.

How disgusting must she look to him now. Curled on the ground next to her bed, because after all the nights on the cell, she couldn’t bear to use it anymore. Her hair, matted, from where she’d tied it over and over again without really bothering to brush it. The blood on her hands, the blood staining the blankets, the blood staining her clothes, the blood staining her wings. Her uniform, wrinkled, the same as the day before and the day before that. The crushed feathers scattered around her like ashes. The tears, golden, solid, the only real thing of value in the pathetic picture of misery she’d so selfishly painted across a space she didn’t deserve to take up.

“…Salem…?” The diplomat’s voice was quiet. It was scariest, sometimes, when it was quiet. Quiet was cold, calculating. Quiet meant a real punishment. Quiet meant something she’d find keeping her up at night, something that would make her shake and shiver at the mere thought of repeating that transgression.

The thing in question forced herself to look at him. Her guilt already stained everything she’d touched. Why try to hide it now? He liked it when she looked at him anyways. He liked to see her pain, to know what he was doing meant something. To watch her tears fall just so he could swipe them away, feel the power and heat and immortality harden on his finger and be whisked away to some pocket to later power a new machine.

One night, years ago, and under the duress of a bottle of expensive wine, he’d even quietly admitted he thought she was pretty even-or was it especially- when she cried.

Salem was pretty sure she hasn’t been anything so appealing as pretty in a long time.

And Kayo, oh, Kayo. His high collared shirt, the embroidery impeccable, color like pure snow next to Salem’s once white undershirt. Neatly manicured nails, far from the weapon's bitten and frayed ones. Hair brushed, where hers wasn’t. Posture confident and straight, where she hunched and curled like a fearful animal. Face unreadable, where she wore her misery in the open, shamefully.

She’d once been so good at reading that face. She once knew how to pick out a smirk in his most polite smile. She used to catch the smallest twitch at her jokes and poke at him after, and he’d laugh with her, scold her sometimes, but it didn’t really mean anything because they were friends. Best friends. He loved her and she’d fight the world for him. Salem was sure only one of those things was true now. And it wasn’t his affection, no matter how much she craved whatever twitch of approval she could claw her way into earning.

“Salem, what is this?” Kayo’s voice was again quiet. Small, almost. Maybe cold and cruel, or something else frigid she couldn’t recognize. She was usually better about this. She was supposed to be able to anticipate his moods, bend to his needs. Know when he needed a silent punching bag or a word of stoic acknowledgement or a string of desperate pleas.

Look at how useless you are. You can’t even keep him content, much less be content with what you’ve been so graciously given.

The weapon’s mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out, the words like chalk, dried into a paste on her tongue. In a situation like this, when Salem had really dug herself as deep as she could go, she should beg, plead, sob for forgiveness and mercy. That was what he liked. She would babble pathetic little pleas until he cut her off or took away her privilege of speech all together. She had the formula down to a T. She had to. Cowardice was one of the only things she was ever decent at.

But still, there was nothing. The words died in her throat, a sob bubbling up in their face. Her fingers finally unclenched, arms falling from their place around her torso until her hands fell in front of her, her shame and guilt on full display. There was no point in hiding now.

Afterall, how many times had he told her to stop plucking her wings. To stop ruining one of the only things that made her useful. To stop making visible proof of whatever was fucked about her in the head.

For the most part she’d stopped. She’d taken to plucking the down around her wings instead. No one could see that and it was easier to throw a bandage over if it bled. It grew back pretty fast too, which was a rare pleasant feature of her broken, fragile body.

The cadence of Kayo’s footsteps picked up again, faster, the click of his black dress shoes on the tile going from gentle to insistent to imminent. Salem knew what was coming. The blows, the rage. She sobbed even harder, words long since lost to her. Her arms curled to protect her head, instinctively, because her stupid animal brain never knew when to just give the fuck up! 

The weapon’s fingers latched into her hair at the thought, nails digging into her scalp. It hurt but the sharp pain was better, better than the broad pain of a kick or the bodily soreness afterwards. She braced, waiting, eyes scrunching closed-

Two hands, pure and uncallused, so far from her own blisters and blood, wrapped at first around Salem’s wrists. They gently pulled her hands from her head, thumbs creeping up into her palms to help unlatch her fingers from her hair. All of it gentle. So soft. Gentle. 

Her eyes opened to see Kayo, the morning sunlight shining across his face, knelt in front of her. His pants, light beige, now marred at the knees by her blood. The diplomat hated getting dirty. Yet now his hands touched hers, the blood on her hands rubbing off on his. He should be crushing her fingers one by one for the offense of ruining a perfectly good pair of pants. And yet his hands just… hold hers. 

When was the last time he touched her gently? When was the last time someone touched her at all like this, granted her direct physical contact beyond a slap or a shove. When was the last time she felt any touch with even an illusion of kindness beyond the weapon’s own arms, wrapped around herself as she cried herself to sleep night after night? 

Salem leaned into it, shamefully, gut twisting with guilt for taking more of something she already didn’t deserve, because she couldn’t remember. Her scalped burned where her nails had dug crescents and it reminded of when Kayo used to braid her hair when they were kids. Or of later, adults, when Salem was being put in her place, when he’d beckon her over, allow her to rest her head on his thigh as he worked, and card his fingers through her hair. At first the warrior hated it and found it humiliating. Nowadays though, she would throw herself against a thousand armies if it meant he’d give her even an inkling of that kind of affection. She couldn’t believe how ungrateful that defiant version of her had been.

The diplomat still hasn’t said anything. That scared Salem more than anything. Silence was bad. Silence meant he was thinking, usually some creative punishment or heart shattering insult. But Kayo’s face wasn’t angry. Instead his eyebrows were furrowed slightly, similar to when he faced a difficult conundrum in his work. A bit of confusion and a touch of… worry?

That was insane. Kayo didn’t worry about his weapon. Afterall, he determined her limits, he determined what she could take. Why would he ever worry, when it was so often his hand making her bleed. This was wrong. Something was clearly wrong. The shock of it was enough to push back the tears, and her own fear and worry was just enough to force the words out of her own mouth.

“You need to decommission me, sir.” She croaked out, throat raw from crying.

The reaction this time was almost instant. Shock, wide eyes and a squeeze of her hands.

“Pardon?”

“You- you need to get rid of me.” She said, and then continued, because she wasn’t sure what else to do. “I can’t do it. I’m not good enough. You need to decommission me. Please. I keep fucking up and I’ll never be able to fix it.” 

Kayo’s eyes widened even more, and his mouth opened slightly as though his jaw had begun to slacken. But he didn’t say anything, and so Salem took it as permission to keep going. It was like a dam had broken.

“I’ve- I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t have every detail all together but that’s- that’s what you’re good at right? Figuring out all the little details?” Somehow a ghost of a smile crept onto the fire elemental’s face, following the crazed look in her eyes. “So- so like- you can just leave me in my cell! Or even a smaller one, if that’s better. And keep me all chained up so I can’t do something stupid like hurt someone. And I’ll lose my mind of course but that’s okay.” 

Strange, now her eyes were burning again.

“It’s… it’s okay. It’s not like it’ll be necessary for me to be really all there, you know? I cry so easily anyways, and you’ll have the runes too. You- you could even- even-“ her voice broke “- cut… cut off my wings, if you want? I won’t need them anymore.” The tears had started to flow again. “And then- and then every once and a while you can just send someone down to hose me down, maybe… feed me a bit, and… and collect more tears. You- you- won’t even h-have to deal with me yourself-!”

Another sob broke her off. Why was she crying so hard? She knew this was right. She knew this was the bare minimum she could do for all her failings, she knew whatever hell she was signing herself up for was all she would ever deserve.

“And- and it might be a struggle for the first few weeks. I’ll probably beg to be let out or try to escape or something stupid like that.” She rambled. “But after that it’ll be so easy. You- you could even reward me, for not doing that, if you wanted to. Like… like with a blanket… Or extra food… or maybe warm water? Or- or maybe even-“ she was really getting into the realm of fantasy here, but he wasn’t stopping her yet, and these were probably going to be some of the last coherent-ish words she said anyways, so why not right? “You could… you could do something like this, you know? Hold my hand for a bit. Or- or pet my hair like you used to. Or even- I- I know it’s a lot but- but you could even help me preen, if- if you don’t decide to-to-“ 

“Salem stop! Stop- it’s- it’s enough.” Kayo gasped, hands suddenly tightening into a death grip. “It’s enough…”

The weapon’s eyes widened in fear, the tears coming even faster. She’d fucked up. He was surely angry now, she’s gone too far, and now she’s never get any of those nice things she’d brought up. He’d probably even punish her before sending her down there, and now her last memories of the sunlight and his face would be of rage and fear and pain. She still begged for forgiveness anyways, because as always, she was a coward.

“I’m sorry- it was too much and- and I-  I’m so sorry sir I didn’t mean to make it worse- I’m so sorry -“

“Enough-!”

“I’m s-“

“STOP! Please, Salem, just stop!” Kayo began to pull Salem’s hands towards his chest- which was bad, because she was going to ruin his clean white shirt, which he hated.  “Please Salem… no more…”

There was something else wrong about all this, but it took a solid second for the weapon to put together, because simply, it never happened.

Kayo said please. To her. Kayo did not say please to Salem. And he meant it. Kayo never meant it, he only said it out of politeness. And he certainly never aimed it at Salem. His weapon. He ordered his weapon to do things. He did not say please.

“Wh-what?” It was her turn to be surprised. Something was clearly very wrong here, and to her credit she did try to protest a little bit. Then Kayo pulled her into a hug and she just… melted. No one had just… held her like this. Not for a long, long time. The hug gave her a weird, funny feeling in her chest, like a knot that couldn’t quite get undone. It almost made her regret making her recommendation just now, because this was so nice, it made her feel like maybe she could keep trying. Maybe if she just had more of this, she could imagine a life where she didn’t feel so horrible all the time.

He said something into her shoulder, something she didn’t quite catch.

“I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“You’re trying to leave me.” The diplomat repeated, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes, bringing a hand up to cradle her face. Once upon a time she’d be ashamed of herself for leaning into the touch so completely.  Now she was still ashamed, but only because she knew she didn’t deserve it.

“W-what? No- I… of course not.”

“You are, Salem! I’m no moron! I know what this is. And I won’t allow it.” Kayo said sternly- though for once, Salem could see a glimpse through his mask again, like she could when they were kids.

He was terrified.

“I- I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to-“

“Stop. Stop apologizing. You don’t think you can do your normal duties? Fine. It’s fine. You’ll be my personal bodyguard only until we think you’re ready again.”

Salem stared at him in shock.

“And when was the last time you flew?”

“I uh- I’m not really sure…” She vaguely remembered Kayo telling her she wasn’t allowed in a fit of rage, and then not telling her she could start doing it outside of missions. It had been at least a month? Maybe two?

“Then you’ll do it every day. Until you stop plucking. But whatever it is, you have to swear to me Salem. You have to swear you’ll never try to leave me again. Swear it.”

And she did promise. But deep down she wasn’t so sure if Kayo really would want her for much longer.

“Good. You forget, Salem. You forget the first part of being my weapon. It's the my. I decide what you are. And you always going to be mine.”

——

Later, that night, Kayo sat on the couch in his suite with Salem curled against his side, sleeping soundly. It had taken more energy than he’d like to admit to coax her out of her strange (and frankly disgusting) little nest of blankets on the floor, then into the bathroom to wash away the blood, then into clean clothes, and then out of her room to get some food in her stomach. The matting and injuries and unpreened wings would have to come tomorrow. But most importantly came fixing this. Whatever this was. This fragile state of mind that seemingly drove his weapon to do… this. Beg him to take lock her away forever. Beg him to deprive himself of the one thing he’d always wanted, and was supposed to have for eternity. 

And so despite his exhaustion, he stayed up. He was waiting for one more visitor. 

The guards flanking Mina stood stoic and silent as the walked her into the room. It was strange- she’d aged, while he and his weapon had ceased to. Streaks of grey now dotted her thick black hair. 

“Mina. It’s been a while.”

The water elemental’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of Salem- first the surprise of being able to see her at all, and second, at the sight of the mess she was. 

“I refuse to be some punishment for her” Mina hissed, as quiet as she could, afraid to wake Salem up. Kayo didn’t even bother with a witty remark.

“You can talk normally. I drugged her dinner. She won’t be waking for a good long while.” The diplomat said quietly.

The water elemental was silent for a moment, processing.

“Then why am I here?” She asked. Kayo opened his mouth, but she put a hand out to stop him. “Or more importantly- what did you do?”

Kayo hesitated for a long moment.

“I broke her, Mina. I think I really broke her.” There was a quiet horror in his voice. He knew something had gone too far. Something that might be irreparable

—————

aaaaand that’s a wrapper folks! I definitely missed writing a lot, and this was honestly very nice to write. Expect more from me soon.

also hiii taglist. It’s been a bit . Hope you enjoyed.