He stared dully into the stained, weathered floor. Was it true? Had she been the one to sell him out?
She wanted you gone.
If she had, could he blame her?
He was a fool. He’d stayed too long, worn out his welcome. Thrown himself upon her mercy when he should have fled.
She’d suffered, and he’d made it worse. She had a beautiful future with her child, and he, with no future, had jeopardized it. Of course she wanted him gone. Of course she wanted to forget him.
Just . . .
To be forgotten by her . . .
It hurt.
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Leader stood with their arms braced against the wood of the table, knuckles white as they held to the edge. Their forehead was creased with concentration, focus on the papers strewn out before them in a disorganized but comprehensible way dragging a line between their eyebrows.
They were alone in the office, meeting adjourned and vacated by their team. The buzz of the radiator, the soft clinking of the inner workings dragging to protect against the cold front only separated by a pane of thick glass. It was dark outside, the window fogged from the snow that fell, quickly and heavily, piling against the ground. The quilt of clouds draped across the sky was thick and unrelenting, sealing off the faint glow of moonlight across the atmosphere, leaving only a weighted darkness to settle over the trees.
It may have been a calm night. Leader could imagine how it would be, curled under a blanket on a soft couch in front of a warm hearth. A mug of either tea or hot chocolate perched between two calm hands, warming both fingers and chest with small sips. Curtains parted around a window, allowing for a view of the world outside, silent and peaceful as the night crept forwards.
With a feeling of helplessness so strong it felt like they were going to drown in it, Leader slammed their hands flat on the table, sweeping them to the side and sending all of the papers scattering across the room.
“Fuck,” Leader cursed, curled fists hitting the table with enough force to send little sparks jolting up their forearms. It felt like the walls were closing in on them, wrapping around their wrists and ankles, snaring their chest and dragging across their throat. They had to fucking figure it out, they had to or their entire team would be fucking dead. Hundreds of innocent people, citizens would lose their fucking lives, because Leader was too stupid to figure this out.
Pathetic. Stupid. Worthless.
Villain had laid out the perfect trail, dropped hints and snippets of information slyly, playing it off as a slip of the tongue or a mistake.
Villain didn’t make fucking mistakes. There had to be something here, something to go off of, but every piece fit perfectly into the puzzle, and that’s how they fucking knew. Villain wasn’t a puzzle, with clean cut edges and designated formations. They were a window, smashed open with a crowbar, exploding to thousands of pieces with no distinguishable traces. Couldn’t put them back together if they tried.
Leader couldn’t fucking try. They had to. Every moment they wasted falling for each of Villain’s meticulous details, was a moment longer for Villain to perfect their act. It was only a game to them, every day they waited, drawing out their plans just to watch Leader’s team scramble to find the end of the string.
“Leader,” a voice spoke softly, and Leader whipped around, knocking back against the table in their haste, a scrambled plan quickly calculating in their disoriented mind, ready to fend off an attack before they realized who their company was. Their heartbeat didn’t settle, throbbing hard enough they could feel it against their ribs, hear it in their ears.
“Leader, what happened? Are you alright?” Teammate stepped forwards from the doorframe. So lost in their thoughts, Leader hadn’t heard it open.
It took Leader a moment to compose themself enough to speak. When they did, their tone came out an aggressive snap.
“I’m working,” was all they said, sentence clipped short. When Teammate took another step towards them, Leader turned around and stepped to the side, gathering the discarded papers in their arms with no regard to how the paper crinkled and folded.
“No, Leader, this isn’t work. You’re still injured, you should be in bed, do you have any idea what time it is?”
From the way Teammate spoke, it was obvious that they themself had just woken up, dressed in sweats and a long sleeve that served as their nightclothes. Leader wore the uniform they had worn the day before, they didn’t have time to deal with something as trivial as changing. They couldn’t step away from this, or any sliver of progress they made would be lost.
“I don’t care. Go away, I need to focus.” Leader was aware how they sounded. They’re words as sharp as the knife they had met only a few days earlier. They didn’t even notice the ache in their side anymore, so buried under the stress that pain became a second nature. They dumped the papers back on the table and shuffled to get them organized once again in the haphazard order they had previously been in, but that was long lost.
They weren’t sure, looking back, if they should be glad or pissed that Teammate didn’t listen to them.
——————————————
Idk if I should make a taglist for this so ima leave it up to y’all. Lmk if you’d be interested in being tagged in this as I go through May lmao
I'd like to thank my always whumperful crew: @oddsconvert @whumpcereal @quietly-by-myself and @sparrowsage who did an amazing beta job with this little ficlet.
HEAVY warnings for this short little fic: noncon touch, noncon gag, traiing gag, implied forced oral, implied future noncon, BBU Training. BBU, collar
The Trainee knelt with his feet locked in place and his wrists chained behind him and secured to the floor. Kneeling was the first lesson they learned. This particular trainee was already bought and paid for. The client had made specific requests. Needless to say, the boy would be a romantic. A face that pretty, a mouth that delicate, this was only ever going to go one way.
The trainee only wore two items, a high stiff collar to keep him angled correctly, and a thick silicon training gag stuffed in his mouth and locked around his head.
The Handler cupped the boy’s cheek and ran his thumb over the end of the training gag.
“Two birds, one bullet, or whatever. I don’t have to hear your defiant screams telling me you didn’t sign up for this. You will sign, whether you want to or not. And secondly…” The Handler pushed at the end of the gag, shoving it just that much further into the trainee’s mouth. “You get to work on taming that gag reflex of yours.”
The Handler smiled a bit as he saw the boy’s gag reflex kick in.
“Still have a ways to go, don’t we trainee? Perhaps you shouldn’t have been such a stubborn little brat when we first introduced this aspect of your training. I know we’ve gone at a pretty fast pace, but the client wants you trained on an accelerated time table.” The Handler moved his fingers up to the electrical burns at the boy’s temples. “Shame we don’t use the old drugs, but the electrical stimulation to the frontal cortex seems to be just as effective at erasing you. You still have several more sessions, but I’m seeing progress.”
The Handler turned the boy’s head this way and that, enjoying the way that different positions, with the extreme angle of his neck in the collar, forced his gag reflex to engage.
“You pretty boys are all alike. Chess pieces, pawns, for the rich and famous.” He looked into the trainee’s watery blue eyes. “Better you than me. That’s why you’re there and I’m here. I saw how the world works and decided to get on the winning side of it. You didn’t even know there was a game being played, let alone that there were sides to pick from.”
The Handler let the boy’s chin go but the trainee barely moved in his high collar. The man idly checked his watch.
“I’ll be back later this evening. If I can move your head around and you don’t gag, perhaps you’ll earn some nutrition. If not, then maybe tomorrow. I need to see a bit more effort on your part, understand?”
A single tear trickled down the trainee’s cheek as he nodded the fraction of an inch the collar would let him move.
“Good, you’ll also be getting your barcode and number designation tomorrow. So I suggest you really work on suppressing that reflex so you can sleep better. Because this…” The Handler tapped the end of the gag, “Isn’t coming out any time soon. The Client wants you delivered with it.”
Tags: Tagging List: @i-can-even-burn-salad @peachy-panic @deluxewhump @arwenadreamer @whumpcereal @melancholy-in-the-morning @dont-touch-my-soup @whumpsday @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @oddsconvert @melennui @susiequaz12 @morning-star-whump @crystalquartzwhump @whump-and-other-things @mylifeisonthebookshelf @reflected-pain@hold-him-down@quietshae@sparrowsage@quietly-by-myself@castielamigos-whump-side-blog@darlingwhump@hold-him-down@quietshae@no-terms-and-conditions-apply @there-will-always-be-blood (I hope I’m not forgetting anyone - please let me know if I am and I’ll fix it. I’m still getting used to this)
It's a hot day in D.C., A day when staying hydrated is important. Lily chooses to drink hot tea as she does every morning and puts her stainless steel water bottle in her bag as she leaves the house.
She and Sunstreaker go to the training room for a little workout. The forty-five-minute workout is enough for anyone to need to drink water, but Lily goes right to the female shower room, and Sunstreaker doesn't think he needs to worry. The two go their separate ways until dinner.
Lily meets her friend, Veronica, at the park, a short walk from the base. The two knew there'd be tables under the shade of a large oak tree.
"Let's see how many chess games we can play before we lose the shade," Veronica comments.
The two get through three games in ninety minutes. It's one-thirty. By now, Lily is dealing with a dry mouth. Veronica doesn't know that she hasn't had any water today. Lily ignores the early signs of dehydration. Not wanting to ruin the short time the two have until they lose the shade.
By the time they start losing shade, Lily's headache is hard to ignore. Veronica decides to head home rather than to the base.
"How strange you're calling me," Sunstreaker says.
"Lily seems off. Like not her usual self off."
Sunstreaker sighs, "I was trying not to worry, but I suspected she hasn't had much water. I'll deal with it."
Sunstreaker finds Lily's water bottle in the mini-fridge in their room.
"Lily," he sighs in frustration.
Sunstreaker: Ratchet, I might be bringing Lily to the medbay for treatment for dehydration.
Sunstreaker goes downstairs to wait.
When Lily reaches the gate, her headache is pounding, and she's dizzy and can't deal with the bright sunlight.
"Ma'am, are you ok?"
"Just open the gate," Lily mumbles.
The two guards know Lily enough to know something is wrong. They let her in.
Sunstreaker watches Lily walk into the building carrying a chessboard. Right away, he sees she's not doing well. Seconds pass before he watches her fall, chess pieces flying everywhere once the box hits the floor and opens.
"Lily!"
Sunstreaker doesn't know a soldier also saw Lily go down and is getting Ratchet. He holds Lily, horrified she's not waking up as the seconds pass.
Even Jolt and Ratchet are concerned that Lily is unconscious. They hate telling Sunstreaker to stay out of the medbay for now.
Lightning walks down one of the hallways, seeing the situation. Rushing to support Sunstreaker. She skips asking what happened and takes her to the conference room by the medbay, knowing Sunstreaker won't want to go far and it'll be private.
"How the frag did she ignore dehydration this long?" Jolt asks, looking at Lily's vitals.
"Um, I know she's in critical condition, but remember Sunstreaker's anxiety issue?" Jasmine asks.
"Go ahead; we're almost done doing all we can to help her," Ratchet tells her.
As Jasmine thought, Sideswipe knows what's happening and struggles to support his brother.
"I don't know if he knows how bad dehydration can get, but he's thinking Lily is dying," Lightning explains, "that's when Sideswipe rushed in. I'd get my brother, Drift, and Jamie, but I don't think more friends around will help him. I'm worried about his anxiety."
Jolt and Ratchet decide to let Sunstreaker see Lily, though her vitals are still not in a good place which will frighten him. Add how she's still unconscious. They are worried it's been thirty minutes.
Sunstreaker hates what he's seeing, that he's only aware of Jolt and Ratchet's tight grip on him until he sits on the chair by the bed. Jolt and Ratchet tell Sunstreaker the infusion will be done in fifteen minutes, which will help Lily's dehydration.
"I should have ensured she was drinking water no matter how annoyed she'd be," Sunstreaker sighs.
"I'm not liking how she didn't drink water," Ratchet adds, "she'll be getting a lecture from me once she's ready to be discharged."
The medics leave the room as Sunstreaker sees Lily's concerning vitals on the monitor.
Sunstreaker is relieved he doesn't have to wait long for Lily to wake up. Lily sees a stay tear roll down his face.
"Do you have any idea how much you scared me?" Sunstreaker asks, failing to sound pissed, "how many times do I tell you that I'm used to this? My life requires acting tough, and you can't act like this. Look what happened. I felt like I was watching you die."
By now, Sunstreaker is crying. Lily feels well enough to sit up and hug him. Sunstreaker hates how this continues to be a problem. Uncertain if he can do anything. Worried one day, Lily will try to hide a serious injury that's not as easy to deal with compared to severe dehydration.
Lily is kept in the medbay overnight and needed two infusions. Ratchet lectures Lily before she and Sunstreaker leave.
The two go to the cafeteria for breakfast. Sunstreaker is terrified to see Lily in the medbay again like yesterday but doesn't want to be strict. Lily can tell Sunstreaker is worried but still gets hot tea.
She brings her water bottle when the two workout, hating how much she terrified Sunstreaker. Knowing there's no easy fix.
“You sure about this?” Tessa asked, looking up at the towering skyscraper in front of them.
“About as sure as I can be,” Ethan said, glancing at Tessa. She frowned deeply as she studied the building. The sunlight bounced off the windows, blinding Ethan as he looked up at it. The building looked about the same as any other building on the street, if not for the fact that it was the tallest. It was pretty rare that they had come to this part of town. It felt strange.
"Fine, let's get this over with,” she said, crossing the street. Ethan walked with her, standing straight as he entered the building. They were here for business and he knew the importance of presenting himself confidently, no matter how he felt about it.
The inside looked like a normal office building. Or at least what Ethan assumed was normal for an office, never having been in one himself. The people around him were all wearing much nicer clothes than his street ware, all wearing suits and ties compared to his black long-sleeve shirt and cargo pants. He tried not to feel underdressed next to them. He needed to look competent in his profession, not theirs.
“Hello, we have a meeting with Mr. Sharp,” Ethan said, smiling at the receptionist. The woman looked up at them for a moment before checking something on the computer. Ethan noticed that she looked extremely bored but she was tense in her shoulders and posture.
“Name?”
“John Way.”
The woman gave him a skeptical look before typing something into the computer. As they waited, Ethan took the chance to look around the lobby. The lobby was small but he figured it was mainly just for people=waiting on meetings and the like. There were a few chairs and couches near the front door but besides that, the room was pretty empty. A few people were sitting on the couch, typing on their laptops as they waited for whatever they were there for. Ethan could also see into a bit of the office area behind the reception, the door leading to that room being left propped open. He could see a few cubicles with people sitting in them and working on their computers.
Ethan glanced over at Tessa and saw that she was standing with the stiff authority of a soldier. Her hands clasped behind her back as she carefully examined the room. It was easy to see, even with her leather jacket covering her strong arms, that she was not someone to mess with.
“Top floor. Mr. Sharp is expecting you,” the receptionist said, barely giving them another glance before turning back to what she was doing before.
“Thank you, have a good day,” Ethan said, giving her one last smile they walked towards the elevator. Tessa pressed the button, glancing back at the receptionist as they waited.
“I’m surprised you didn’t flirt with her,” she said, giving Ethan a side-eye.
“I don’t flirt with people who are working or while I am working. It's unprofessional,” Ethan said, hooking his thumbs on his belt loops.
“Wow, I never knew you had the self-restraint.”
The corners of Tessa’s mouth quirked up as Ethan gave her a mock offended look. A small ding sounded from the elevator before the doors opened and a group of people started to get off.
“Have you no fate in your team's leader,” Ethan asked.
“None,” Tessa said, stepping into the elevator once it was empty. “Come on, let's go.”
Ethan gave her a half-hearted glare as he followed her into the elevator, pressing the top button. After a moment, the doors closed without anyone else stepping in. Ethan could feel the strange looks the people gave them when they weren’t looking. Whether it was from them not dressed in suits or something else, he wasn’t sure. Either way, no one wanted to share an elevator with them.
“I don’t like this place,” Tessa said once the doors closed.
“The people here do seem a bit judgy,” Ethan agreed, subtly checking how he looked in the reflection on the doors.
“It's not just that,” Tessa started. “This place is… strange. There are a lot of security cameras but also a lot of blind spots. The furniture was also… cheap looking while the people were all wearing expensive outfits. And I know a lot of places opt for a more minimalist style but the receptionist's desk didn’t even have a desk toy or even a fake plant, no decoration whatsoever. This place just feels so… lifeless.”
“Could just be a method to keep people working, like they did at our high school,” Ethan suggested. "Keep some of the cameras hidden so people don’t know where they are being watched or not, and keep the environment free from distractions so they only focus on their work.”
“Our high school sucked and you know it. Let's just get this meeting over with.”
Ethan couldn’t disagree with that. Their high school was one of the worst in the area. Just then the elevator doors opened and they found themselves on the top floor. They exited the elevator and walked down the hall toward what he assumed was Mr. Sharp’s office. They knocked on the door and after a moment heard a man call for them to come in.
They entered the office and saw an empty desk in front of a wall of windows, looking out over the city. Just like the lobby, decorations were very sparse but the room was not as lifeless. The desk had a few pictures of Mr. Sharp and his family, as well as a Newton's cradle that was currently still.
“Over here,” Mr. Sharp said. Ethan turned and saw the man sitting at a chess table next to the wall, resetting the pieces. He looked like any other businessman, dressed in a freshly pressed suit. The only thing on him that stood out was a cross pinned over his heart. “Care to join me for a game of chess? I am tired of beating my assistant over and over again.”
“I’d love to but I have to admit I don’t know much about chess,” Ethan said as they walked over to him.
“What about you miss?”
Tessa hesitated, glancing at Ethan before sitting down opposite the man. Mr. Sharp smiled as they finished setting up the board. Tessa was not the best people person, coming along mostly for backup in case this was a trap of some kind. She left most of the talking to Ethan. Ethan figured it was good that he wasn't playing. Focusing on the conversation and the game at the same time could have caused Ethan to slip up and make careless mistakes.
“What did you want to meet with us about Mr. Sharp?” Ethan asked, watching as Tessa took her first move. He didn’t know much about chess but Tessa played with the rest of the team occasionally. He had never seen her lose to them.
“I have a job offer for you,” Mr. Sharp said, moving his own piece.
“If you are saying that you must know what our profession is then.” The sounds of the chess pieces tapping against the board echoed in the otherwise quiet room. Tessa kept her eyes focused on the board. “Most of our clients contact us over the internet or by phone. Usually they don’t want an in-person meeting.”
“I like knowing exactly who I am hiring, Ethan Liu,” Mr. Sharp said, smiling as he glanced up at him. Both Ethan and Tessa tensed up, glancing at each other.
“How did you find my real name?” Ethan asked, crossing his arms over his chest. They used a fake name for everything related to their job, leaving as little trace as they could back to their actual identities.
“I have many resources at my disposal. As I said, I just wanted to know who I am hiring.” Ethan watched as the man captured one of Tessa’s pieces.
“What are you looking for us to do?" Ethan asked. Tessa’s brows furrowed as she studied the board.
“A simple job really. I want you to kill special someone for me," Mr. Sharp said. Tessa looked up at him after he finished speaking, and Ethan saw a realization cross her face.
“You are the person that hired us for our last job,” she said. Ethan thought back to their last job request and realized the wording in the message was very similar to the way that Mr. Sharp spoke; specifically referring to their target as a ‘special someone.’
“Ah, she speaks,” Mr. Sharp teased. Tessa rolled her eyes. “Yes, I am the person that hired you for that job. I wanted to do a test run before hiring you for this one.”
“You sent us to kill someone that wasn’t human,” Tessa stated, capturing one of his pieces.
“I am aware.”
“That would have been helpful information to know. If you plan on hiring us again I must ask you to give us all the information you can to help us kill the target,” Ethan said, remembering how most of his team had been injured during that job. Tessa captured another of his pieces.
“Would you have believed me if I told you that before?”
“We would believe you now. We need all the information you can give to effectively get rid of the target; my team and I would like to know exactly what we are getting ourselves into.”
Mr. Sharp leaned back in his chair resting his hands on his lap as he thought for a moment.
“The person I want you to kill is a man by the name of Silas Heller. He is my business rival but also a dangerous supernatural creature. I have reason to believe he is planning to attack any non-supernatural residents in the city,” Mr. Sharp explained, leaning forward again for his turn.
“How many supernatural beings live in the city?”
“It's difficult to know for sure. They blend in well with people. You have seen firsthand how dangerous they are. You would take a dangerous being off the streets and get rid of my rival. Two birds, one bullet,” Mr. Sharp said, holding up a finger gun as he did.
Tessa glanced up at Ethan as another one of her pieces was captured.
“Yes, we have. So you understand we would need substantial compensation for this,” Ethan said, raising an eyebrow. Hitmen were not cheap but being sent to kill an extremely dangerous target would be much higher than their normal price.
“Yes, and I am prepared for that,” Mr. Sharp said, pulling a check out of his pocket and handing it to Ethan. He unfolded the paper and whistled lowly before handing it over to Tessa.
"That's a lot of zeros,” Ethan said. Tessa looked at the check, remaining emotionless as she read the number. She handed it back to Ethan and moved one of her pieces. Mr. Sharp smiled and took his turn.
“Check.”
"You understand we require half the payment upfront as insurance?”
“That is the first half of the payment,” the man said, a sly smile on his face as Tessa thought over her next move. After a moment she shook her head and his smile grew. “Checkmate.”
Ethan struggled not to let his jaw fall open as he thought about what they could do with that much money. He managed to shake himself out of it after a moment and regain his composure.
“We will be happy to take this job from you, Mr. Sharp,” Ethan said, barely able to contain his excitement. Tessa set her jaw and stood up, the chair scraping against the floor as she pushed it back in.
“Excellent! Let me just grab a file from my desk. It should contain all the information you need to get started.” Mr. Sharp stood up and walked over to his desk. He grabbed a folder and handed it to Ethan. They exchanged a few words before saying goodbye and leaving, thoughts of how he would spend his cut swimming trough Ethan's mind.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose at chess before,” Ethan said as they walked back to the elevator.
“There are two reasons for that. 1. the rest of the team sucks at chess. 2. I let him win,” Tessa said, pressing the elevator button.
“You let him win? Why? I don’t think it had any effect on if he was going to hire us or not.”
“Because,” Tessa said, giving Ethan a side glare. "He won you over when he shouldn’t have.”
Ethan frowned as they stepped into the elevator, asking “Why do you say that?”
“I don’t like him. Something seems off about this whole thing. I mean, that much money? It seems too good to be true. I don’t think we can trust him.” Tessa crossed her arms, shifter her weight onto one foot.
“You don’t trust more people.”
“Yes, but I really don’t trust him.”
“Well, I trust him. If things turn south I will take all the blame for it,” Ethan said, trying to be reassuring.
The elevator dinged as they reached the ground floor again and Tessa stepped out, staying a few steps in front of Ethan as they left the building.
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He saw the farmer raise his rifle. Saw the finger tremble. Stockton flinched.
The crack of the gun.
Rex just didn’t think.
He just wanted to protect Stockton, his friend.
Rex raised his hand and pulled the bullet away from Stockton’s head. It flew past his friend and slammed straight into Rex’s guts. A blinding punch of paralyzing pain.
Yeah, he hadn’t really had the time to stop that too. Oh well.
Rex heard the wind leave his lungs and he crumpled to the ground. Honestly, the ground was just much more comfortable. The sun was at high noon so he closed his eyes against it, his eyelids red with its heat.
Someone was shouting. Probably Burden.
They had approached the homestead as carefully as possible. They needed some supplies and were willing to barter with the farmer. But the guy was scared. Rex couldn’t blame him. Bandits were everywhere. And they didn’t really look trustworthy to begin with.
So when Stockton and his big mouth had said something just the tiniest bit sassy, the farmer got a little more nervous than the situation really called for. Rex had tried to talk him down. So did Burden. But of course, Burden wasn’t a people-person. So Burden had made it worse.
Stockton had taken a step closer to the property line. And that was it. The farmer fired.
Thank god he only fired once. Rex didn’t think he could curve another bullet today. His belly hurt too much, every breath he took it felt like someone was digging a shard of glass into his intestines.
“My fucking ear!” Stockton was wailing.
Rex cracked his eyes when a shadow fell over him. It was Burden.
“Hey.” Rex whispered. “Stockton okay?”
“He’s being a little bitch.” Burden’s eyes looked Rex up and down.
Rex felt a crushing pressure on his wound and a soft keening wail escaped his lips.
“Sorry.” Burden was pale. Eyes wide. Burden was scared. When had Burden ever been scared? “I’m sorry but I gotta put pressure on it.”
Rex nodded.
Someone said something. Burden turned away, shouting an answer. “The moron fucking moved it. You’ve seen him move things before. He moved the fucking bullet! Happy?”
Rex closed his eyes again against the bright sun. It was a hot day. Why was he so cold?
“Okay, we’re going. Get ready.” Burden had turned back and murmured into Rex’s ear.
Rex nodded. He braced himself.
It wasn’t enough.
Burden’s strong arms slipped behind Rex’s shoulders and under his knees. As soon as he was lifted from the dusty ground, Rex screamed. Everything went quiet. His ears rang.
When Rex opened his eyes again, his head was turned upward. He saw the sun and sky disappear, replaced by the roof of a porch and then a doorway. The cool darkness of a home. He heard Stockton’s voice and the soft sobs of someone else. Stockton was explaining something.
“I’ve got you, Rex.” Burden said softly and Rex felt it. He felt the vibrations of Burden’s words through his chest.
Rex leaned his head against Burden’s shoulder and just tried to breathe through the pain.
“Where can I put him? There a table somewhere?” Burden shouted.
“In here!”
Rex heard a sweep and the sound of many things hitting the floor. He angled his head downward and saw dozens of chess pieces rolling across the hardwood floor. And then he was laid out on a table, hard and shuddering beneath him.
Rex eyed the dusty light fixture above him.
Burden came into view again.
“Hey.” Rex whispered.
Burden tried to smile. “Hey.”
“Stockton okay?” He asked again.
“He’s still a little bitch, but he’s an alive bitch.” Burden sighed. “Pressure again.”
Blinding pain in his gut and Rex’s ears began to ring. Tears slid from his eyes and trailed down his cheeks and into his ears.
“Ow.” Rex said softly.
Stockton came into view, covered in blood.
Rex reached out and grabbed Stockton’s arm. “You’re hurt.”
“Just my ear.” Stockton turned to show Rex a bloody, dark wound on his ear. A chunk of cartilage was just missing.
“Too bad it wasn’t your mouth.” Burden grumbled.
“Mister, I am so sorry.” The farmer’s tear-stained face came into view. “I’ve never shot anyone before, it’s just some people have been showing up lately and-”
“It’s okay.” Rex tried to speak around the pain. He swallowed hard. “It’s okay, what’s your name?”
“Oh, Ed.” The farmer named Ed wiped his eyes on a handkerchief. “Eddie Lang.”
Rex held out a hand to Ed, only just now noticed his own fingers were covered in blood. “Nice to meet you Mr. Lang. I’m Rex. These are my friends Burden Chatham and Stockton T. Hunt.”
Ed Lang hesitated a moment then took Rex’s hand warmly. “Just Ed is fine. It’s nice to meet you. I am so so sorry I shot you, Mr. Rex.”
“Not a bother, Ed.” Rex’s eyes were drawn to a fallen castle chess piece on the table beside him. “I’m sorry we interrupted your chess game.”
Ed sniffed and smiled a little. “Oh, I was just playing against myself. It passes the time.”
“I haven’t had a good game of chess in years.” Rex wheezed.
“Alright.” Burden growled. “Enough. Mr. Lang- Ed, got any medical supplies? Better yet, there a doctor nearby?”
“Next farm over.” Ed answered. “Checked in with her a week ago, she takes supplies and pills as payment for services.”
“We can make that work.” Burden’s hand left Rex’s wound. “Stockton, pressure.”
“Right, yes, sorry.” Stockton winced when he looked at the damage to Rex’s guts. He went pale and then green.
“Don’t throw up on me.” Rex begged. “Please.”
“I won’t.” Stockton reassured him. “It’s the least I can do for my savior.”
Rex rolled his eyes. “Sorry about your ear.”
“Don’t worry about it. Gives me character.” Stockton grinned.
Rex smiled.
Burden reappeared, speaking to Stockton. “We’re going to get the doctor. Ed says to watch his aunt. Thirty minutes tops.”
Burden leaned close to Rex, putting a hand to Rex’s cheek. His fingers were rough and warm. “Can you hang on thirty minutes?” Burden murmured.
Rex nodded, looking into Burden’s eyes, the only kind and soft part of Burden.
Burden nodded too. Then disappeared.
The house fell silent.
Stockton frowned. “What aunt?”
“Me.” Came a soft voice from across the room.
Stockton screamed, jostling his hand against Rex’s wound. So Rex screamed.
Stockton whirled around and Rex turned his head as best as he could.
There sat a wizened old lady, perched in an armchair with a tv tray in front of her. Several playing cards were laid out on the tray in a pattern.
“Pardon us, ma’am.” Rex nodded as best as he could considering the angle. “I would stand and introduce myself but-”
“You may have heard, I’m Stockton, this is Rex.” Stockton cut in. “Have you been sitting there the whole time.”
“The whole time.” Ed’s aunt repeated. “I’m Hazel Lang.” Her wrinkled mouth twisted into a smile. “I’m surprised Ed shot you.” She looked to Rex.
“Me too.” Rex grunted.
“Two birds, one bullet.” She commented.
Rex didn’t dare laugh, but it was a little funny. “Playing solitaire, Miss Lang.”
“Tarot.” She replied.
“Neato.” Stockton said.
“Should I do a reading for you?” She asked.
Rex thought for a moment. “Can’t think of a better opportunity, honestly. Read away.”
Both Hazel and Stockton worked to keep Rex alert and responding as Hazel Lang explained shuffling the deck. Rex clumsily cut it with his bloody fingers. And then she began the reading.
Hazel laid out three cards on the table beside Rex’s head. “This is a basic reading, son: past, present, and future.”
“Okay.” Rex blinked and tried to keep everything in focus.
They had changed out towels for his wound a few times. Rex had lost count. Each time Stockton went to grab another he’d looked more and more worried.
Hazel flipped the first one.
“What’s it?” Rex slurred.
“The Devil.”
He lost time as Hazel explained that this was his past.
That made sense.
The second one was flipped. “This is the present. The Ten of Swords.”
“Can… I see?”
Miss Hazel held the card out. A man lay on the ground, pierced by many swords.
“That…that sums it up.” He sighed and closed his eyes.
“And the future. Oh.” Hazel Lang fell silent.
Stockton asked. “Is that one bad?”
“Generally.” Hazel answered.
“Give it to me… s-straight, Miss Lang.” Rex opened his eyes. Colors were blurring together.
“The Tower.” The elder pronounced.
The front door banged open. Rex heard Burden’s voice from far away.
Whumper held whumpee by the neck at the edge of the tower, whumpee clutching onto their arm and straining their legs to keep them on the roof. Hundreds of feet of open air waited below them right before a hard solid ground. A single movement might send Whumpee over the edge.
"Ready to talk?" Whumper asked.
Their grip grew tighter and Whumpee gasped for breath.
"N-no," they choked out.
Whumper pushed them an inch back and Whumpee panicked, their toes just barely touching the roof. The wind brushed against their back from underneath, and Whumpee tightened their grip on Whumper.
content: unusual gag, demeaning language, kneeling, two whumpers, op doesn't know shit about chess.
"Open your mouth."
Whumpee bit their tongue, staring up at Whumper from their chained position - on their knees, pressed against the wall with their hands behind their back.
After a moment, Whumper leaned down, sucking on their teeth.
"So stubborn," they shook their head, "Don't make me get my belt, Whumpee. I'd hate to mark up more of your skin than I have to."
Whumpee clenched their teeth as they remembered the first time Whumper had threatened them with the belt. They refused, and instead of returning with a regular belt like Whumpee had thought, they instead returned with a fucking sander.
Whumpee opened their mouth, and Whumper smiled.
"Good, good. Here you go," they daintily pressed a chess piece onto their tongue, "keep it open."
They did. Four. Five. Six. Whumpee's jaw ached as the pieces stretched it open.
"This one is my favorite," Whumper held up a tower-looking piece, "do you want to know why it's so special?"
Whumpee really couldn't give a shit, but Whumper wanted a nod, so Whumpee gave them a fucking nod.
"Because it's highest value is realized when it's in a pair," they revealed another piece, "two birds, one deadly bullet. Understand?"
Whumpee shook their head, wincing as their jaw finally popped.
"Don't worry," Whumper cooed. The door opened behind them, "you will."
Whumpee's brows furrowed, and Whumper glanced over their shoulder as another person approached.
"Is our little pawn ready?"
Whumper smiled as Whumpee's eyes dilated with fear at the familiar voice of Whumper One.
