BUGGER

Spy was grateful that Sniper didn’t initiate physical contact. He wasn’t sure, after so many days being poked and prodded, that he could handle that without lashing out. As if a reminder, his sharp teeth scraped on the inside of his cheek and the man bit back a curse, steeling himself.

Talking hurt, but sitting there in pitiful silence hurt more.

“I… I don’t know. There was so much going on, I– it’s all a blur.”

A lie. He was sure Sniper could tell just bu the tone in his voice and the look on his face. He remembered every tiny bit of his stay in that lab. Remembered the nights in the locked tank like some pet fish, remembered the drugged haze, remembered the various kinds of restraints that felt like they were still attached. The bruises looked deep, but they felt deeper. Remembered every single bit of it… Yet he was at least glad, as much as he hated what had happened, that he survived and escaped.

He couldn’t imagine what Sniper must have thought. No doubt he’d been replaced after several days of missing fights. Had he left? Quit? Been fired? Worse?

He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Him, always coming to SNIPER of all people. That first night Mick had asked for help with a problem, and ever since solving it Spy had been the one in need of help.

Another shuddering breath had him coughing, the bullet in his side a painful reminded of why he’d come here at all. Tendrils gingerly curled, a deep maroon surrounding a clear bullet hole in his side… with no exit wound.

It was still in there somewhere, and it needed to come out.

“You wouldn’t happen to… want to go spelunking, would you?”

Sniper could tell Antoine was lying and it pained him deeply to even possibly fathom whatever the hell had happened that led to the Spy's current state. 

But now was not the time to ask into that. Mick saw the bullet wound, saw the quivering in the other's body when he coughed. 

And he knew what Spy wanted him to do.

His gaze moved to the first aid kit splayed out haphazardly on the ground beside Antoine, suddenly feeling something heavy and terrible sink down into the pit of his stomach. 

There was a bullet still lodged into Antoine's side that he desperately had wanted to get out and patched up, which could only mean.. 

Mick's hands trembled as he gathered together various items from the kit before, looking over the bullet wound before his gaze moved back up to his lover's face. 

The blood trail (if you could even call such a dark red BLOOD) led in a clear trail. Though, with how much bulk he now had, it wouldn’t have taken a trail of evidence or anything NOT to notice the creature huddled in the corner.

A mass of dark purple tentacles ended in a squirming mess at pale hips, though most curled around the creature’s middle in attempt to stop bleeding. Several syringes (along with the blood trail) jutted out from his back and various limbs, though it seemed they hadn’t had any luck in stopping the being from hiding away in the van or escaping in the first place. To an untrained eye, it would be hard to distinguish the odd spotting pattern on the animal’s skin from bruising, but he certainly had lots of both.

At the name, however, the creature – TONI – turned, a large fin-like frill popping open in alarm.

Gone was the suave man standing at 6′1. Gone was the immaculate suit of all blue with matching balaclava, leaving a spotted chest and shoulders and dark wavy hair. Gone was his careful poker face, instead replaced with raw untamed emotion. Clear shock written on his face, Antoine hissed, hoping to at least have removed the bullets and left a note of a final goodbye before taking off.

If anyone he wanted avoid seeing him like this, it was Mick.

It took him a moment to remember to speak, and a bit longer to realize Mick probably wouldn’t recognize french. The frill on his back settled as he realized the RED wasn’t (nor was he ever) a threat, and gave a half convincing, pained smile. Though it was more like a grimace.

He was going to have to deal with this now instead of running off like he’d planned. Perhaps if he’d been faster, a letter here and there would have the Sniper assuming all was well, but he’d been reassigned. With both legs where they were supposed to be and not a half human, half animal running from his creator.

“I… did not expect you back after the match so soon.”

The Sniper froze where he stood in the doorway when the dim light of the setting sun revealed the dark, twisted bundle of limbs in the back corner of his camper. He was stunned and confused, and perhaps, for a brief moment, afraid. 

Of all the possibilities to have been greeted with when rushing into his camper, this wasn't anywhere near something Sniper could've possibly imagined. 

It wasn't until this strange creature spoke that Mick finally realized that he wasn't actually wrong on his initial assumption when bursting with. 

This creature was Antoine. 

Frozen shock was quickly replaced with panic as the RED Sniper shut the door behind himself and rushed over to kneel before his lover. 

Oh. Oh.

It finally clicked and the Sniper went pink all the way to the tips of his ears. Well, this was certainly an interesting way to come on to him..

Mick pinched the edge of his hat, tipping it forward ever so slightly. He hated how bashful he could get in these sort of situations, but he just never could get used to the idea of anyone ever coming onto him. Especially anyone so utterly above par compared to him.

Someone like Antoine.