𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊

Null panted, his chest heaving with effort with every breath he took. He’d only been working for Araska for a few months at this point—and working for is one way to put it. All he’s done is train, and train, and train. It hurts, but his handler says it’s for the best. To be prepared. 

His handler paced around the metal table Null was strapped to, adjusting the tools on the metallic table to the side. Her boots tapped against the tile floors as her nails scraped against the table. She hadn’t said a word to Null since she appeared, and that only caused his heart to race violently in his rib cage. He could feel the organ beating a dent into his ribcage.

He gets why it’s called a ribcage, now. To cage in the heart, to keep it from escaping as fear took over the soul.

Null strained against the straps, keeping him spread out on the table, but they gave no slack. His breath caught in his throat again as he tried to remind himself this was just training. She wouldn’t hurt him.  

“Are you comfortable?” She asked, her voice so soft it was almost honey-dipped. Null’s eyes flicked to hers slowly, and he swallowed dryly, the lack of saliva leaving him to swallow painfully. The point of the training today was that if he were caught on a later mission, to make sure he would be able to withstand anything his captors threw at him. 

For his own good. For his own good. For his own good. 

Null shook his head, keeping his mouth shut. His handler raised an eyebrow and nodded, slowly turning her head back away from Null. No, he’s not comfortable. He’s in nothing but his boxers, strapped to a table.

Don’t say anything. Null reminds himself, looking away from his handler and pressing the back of his head against the cold metal. Her long red nails tapped against the thin metal of the table she stood at—Null only knowing the color from when he saw them the other day—making his hair stand on end.

The silence stretched on. And on. And on. Until Null began to retreat into his head, he ignored what was going on around him. Pretend it was fine. He was fine. Would be fine. 

For his own good. His handler picked up a tool. Null saw out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t turn his head to look. He swallowed again, this time just as painful as the last. He heard the scraping of metal against metal, then silence once more before the staccato rhythm of her heels tapping against the floor.

She didn’t say anything as she lifted the tool into Nulls’ line of sight. He almost looked away, but the shining glint of the metal reflecting the light above him made him stare. It was sharp. A scalpel? A thin, sharp blade in her manicured hands. 

“What did they tell you?” She asked, her voice still dripping with honey. Null didn’t respond, his eyes trained on the blade in his sight as a bead of sweat began to drip down his face. They’d told him the secret he was supposed to keep. If he told her, this would all be over, but he’d fail.

Failure is not an option. 

Null shook his head. 

His handler smirked.

Slowly, she brought the blade down against his skin, and pain flared. The first cut was thin, but blood began to pool out of the cut instantaneously. Null bit his lip, looking away from the cut, but the pain flooding his system brought tears to his eyes.

It hurts. But he can’t. He won’t. 

Null squeezes his eyes and tries to think about something else, anything else. “Tell me, Null.” His handler spoke once more, her voice a hint darker this time. Null shook his head once more, turning his head fully away from his handler. 

“Hush baby, sleep / Hush baby, / Sleep baby.” 

His mind relaxes as a mental tune slowly filters into his thoughts, the voice sounding entirely too close to Lilith's. Null flinches as his handler carves another cut only inches from the last one, slow and methodical, deep enough to hurt but not to scar. 

“Nighttime is here / and the mists circle round, above you everywhere.”

Null flinched as nails dug into his chin, yanking his head face in his handler’s direction. Her red nails—red as blood, the blood seeping from his body, leaving him, always leaving—pressed into his skin as she stared at him with an anger he had not seen before. 

“Tell me, Null. Or the pain gets worse.” She forced his head to look at the table she’d been standing before moments ago–or was it hours ago? Null’s eyes scanned the table, and his heart beat in his chest until it skipped a beat.

On the metal table was an array of blades and other tools. Some of which Null knew of, others he did not. Blades, saws, pliers, long thin metal rods, clamps, lighters, and so many more. All laid out on thin leather mats, as if fearing they might ruin the tools by clinking against the metal table. 

“The evening is calm / and the blanket is soft,”

Null closed his eyes, refusing to open them as his handler scowled in his face. Her nails finally broke the skin, making her pull back with a sound of disgust. He doesn’t open his eyes to see if her expression matches the noise that escaped her. 

He listens as her heels pad off and she drops the scalpel with little care.

“Time to rest / time to sleep / close your eyes.” 

Null swallowed, forcing his mind to focus on the song playing in his head, only for him to hear. Not the clicking of heels, the pain flooding him.

He’s doing this for his sisters. 

“So hush baby / sleep baby / don’t stay awake.” 

His eyes squeeze closed, and slowly his mind leaves his body, and Null finds himself in a memory. A holiday with his sisters before he began to work at Arasaka. He’d fallen asleep in one of the back rooms of the brothel, and Lilith came to sit with him after her client left. 

Null watched as she lifted his head into her lap and combed her long fingers through his hair, her nails scratching softly against his scalp.

“Let your dreams carry you to a world far away.” 

Lilith sang softly, looking down at Null with such a soft look he’d momentarily forgotten everything else aside from his sister's affection. 

His handler scowled as Null smiled on the outside, not reacting to the pain as she tore through his body, broke his bones, and cut through his skin. Anger rushed through her. 

“A world that is peaceful / a world filled with love.” 

Null let himself be consumed by the memory, the flashes of blinding, antagonizing pain meaning nothing to him. Lilith, Mira, Gemma, and Jessnia. He needed to do this—for them.

“Where all children / laugh and play / somewhere far from here.” 

Far from here. Right. This wasn’t real, was it? Oh, how he yearned for it. To be curled up with his sisters, but they needed him to do this, even if they didn’t realize it. 

This would keep them safe. Fed.

He needs to protect them, as they protected him.

Null began to feel the pain flood his body once more, yet this time, he didn’t shy away from it. He looked down at his hands, still in his mindscape, and watched the pain form into glinting swirls of red. Blood red.

“Hush baby / sleep baby / close both your eyes.” 

He’d take this pain and turn it into power. To protect them. Null would not break. He’d bend, and bend, until it was his turn to snap.

“Sleep until the darkness fades / The morning sun will rise.” 

Vincent’s breath hitched as he returned to his body. He wasn’t there. Not anymore. He heard Kerry saying something to him; he could feel the worry lacing his tone as Johnny sat next to him, his hand resting softly on Vincent’s shoulder. 

It was the past. 

It was over.

But he did it, didn’t he? Kept them safe?

But he has new people he needs to keep safe now.

“Vincent,” Johnny said, realizing Vincent was back. “Hey. You back with us?” His voice was soft, gravely even in his new body. V nodded, leaning back into his boys. “Sorry.” Kerry looked offended at the coarse word, and Vincent almost laughed, a smile quirking the corners of his lips up. “Don’t—” Kerry started at the same time Johnny rolled his eyes. 

Vincent glanced between them, something soft yet dark passing behind his eyes. Kerry and Johnny shared a look as V let his eyes drift closed for a moment.