#supernovashipping

The second Denise gave her order, Walter reached for Louis, seizing him by the back of his shirt, and threw him to the ground. Louis and Joe seemed to find their voices at the same time, as both of them cried, “Wait!” as Walter grabbed one of Louis’ wrists, made easier by the fact that Louis was shielding his hands in front of his face. 

“Watch,” Denise said, sadism clear in her delighted tone, as she yanked up on Joe’s hair to force him to look as Walter made an abrupt, violent, twisting movement with Louis’ wrist.

A horrible, wet pop sounded through the stagnant air, and Louis was suddenly screaming as Walter released Louis’ now--broken? Dislocated? wrist, letting it fall onto Louis’ chest. 

The sound of Louis’ screams of pain cut through Joe like a knife, as he struggled to wrench his head out of Denise’s fingers tangled in his hair. “Stop! Leave him alone! Fine, yes, we have a hideout!” 

“Care to share the location of said hideout?” Denise said, letting go of his hair and turning back around to Joe as Louis’ screams devolved into pained moans. 

“I told you, I’m not going to sell out my friends!”

“Well, then watch this one get tortured,” Denise said, gesturing to Walter. “Carry on.”

“Stop!” Louis begged, struggling to crawl away from Walter. “Leave us alone!” 

Louis accidentally backed into the woman with the dead sister, who shoved Louis away from her with her foot, looking at him like he was something unpleasant she’d found at the bottom of her shoe. Walter grabbed his hair and dragged him back in front of Joe, who was struggling to free himself from his restraints without any luck. 

“You aren’t freeing yourself from those ropes, Mayor,” Denise said, casually leaning against Joe’s chair. “There’s only one thing to do to help him…”

Joe closed his eyes, but, of course, he still heard the sound of Louis’ struggling, hyperventilating, then a different but still nauseating noise--this time, a loud crack--followed by Louis once more screaming. Joe’s eyes were burning, but he couldn’t let Denise see him cry. 

What do I do? He couldn’t sell out his friends, doing so would be an almost certain death sentence for them. He loved them, even Christian, he’d desperately missed all three of them when they’d been in prison. He’d just gotten them back, he couldn’t betray them now, he couldn’t lose them, but another one of his friends was in front of him now, suffering, being tortured, because Joe wasn’t talking, and because Joe had gotten himself captured trying to help him, and because Joe hadn’t helped him before he’d gotten kidnapped in the first place. He couldn’t lose Louis, either.

Louis’ screams had turned into sobs, and Joe opened his eyes. Both of Louis’ wrists were broken now. There was bone sticking out of the wrist that had just been snapped, and Joe’s nausea grew even more intense, as he dry heaved, barely preventing himself from actually being sick.

“Our hideout’s in Money Mile,” Joe lied, his eyes burning. “It’s--it’s in a building near the movie premiere place where Ronald Rooney was shot.” His mouth was moving at its own pace, barely having time to think about what he was saying, blurting the first things that were coming to his mind. He wouldn’t have made it as a politician if he wasn’t good at lying quickly. “Off of Wexwood and Williams.”

“Alright then,” Denise said, and a small flicker of hope lit in his chest as he tried to catch Louis’ eyes, trying to tell him everything would be fine, they’d get out of this prison. “Walter, Corine. Grab Leroux and come with me.”

“Wait! I said where the hideout was!” Joe said as Walter and the dead-sister woman, Corine, evidently, yanked Louis up by his arms, jostling his wrists enough that Louis let out a whimper of pain. “Where are you taking him?”

“To your hideout,” Denise said. “I’m not stupid. I know how well you can lie, and, well, that confession seemed a little too easy. We are going to take Leroux with us, and if we realize you were lying, then Walter will snap his neck and return to throw his corpse at your feet.”

“No!” Joe said. “No, please don’t, I--I--”

“You were lying?” 

“I--” His vision was blurring, as he rapidly blinked back his tears. 

Walter grabbed one of Louis’ broken wrists, squeezing it, Louis screamed, tears streaming from his eyes, as Joe said, “Alright, fine! Yes! It’s not there!”

“Continue, Walter,” Denise said, walking back to Joe’s chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

Walter wrapped his fingers in Louis’ hair, dragging him back towards Joe, throwing him at Joe’s feet, as Denise said, “Are you going to give me the correct information now, Mayor?”

“Joe,” Louis said, choking through his sobs. “Joe--Joe--I’m so sorry.” He had sat up, his eyes staring feverishly at Joe. “I told her--I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I was scared they were going to kill you, I tried to hold out, but on the fifth one, I couldn’t, I just wanted it to stop!” He broke eye contact with Joe, instead crying on his shoes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I need to make it up to you, don’t tell her, please, please--”

“Louis!” Joe said, trying to get Louis to look at him again. “Louis, what are you talking about?”

“I’m curious, too, Louis,” Denise said innocently, kneeling next to Louis and yanking his head up, forcing him to look at Joe. “What did you tell me?”

“What did you do to him?” Joe said to Denise, feeling a sort of horror that he didn’t think he was capable of, not to mention hatred. Joe didn’t really hate anyone, think they were beneath him or needed to be eliminated, sure, but none of that came from a place of hatred, more of practicality, logic, or necessary ruthlessness because the natural order saw him and his friends at the top of the food chain, so to speak, but he wanted nothing more than to turn Denise’s own torture back on her. 

“The question is, Warren, what he did to you. As you were saying, Leroux?”

“I’m sorry,” Louis sobbed, grime mixing with the tears running down his face. “I--I tried to not say anything, but it hurt, I just wanted it to stop--I told her that I’d told you about the neohumans--I’m sorry!” he suddenly screamed, ripping his hair out of Denise’s grip and jumping to his feet. He leapt towards Joe, flinging his arms around him, embracing him, seeming to ignore the pain from his broken wrists in his adrenaline burst, as he clung to Joe, his tears soaking Joe’s blazer as he repeated, “I’m sorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry--”

“Louis,” Joe said, straining against his ropes, wishing so desperately that his hands were free so he could hold Louis, embrace him, and help him calm down. “Louis, I’m not mad at you, you were being tortured--”

Louis didn’t seem to be able to hear him as he kept apologizing, shaking, he had grown so thin within just the span of a few days, had Denise fed him at all? If only Joe had done a better job helping Louis after Louis returned from the dome, if only he hadn’t left Louis alone--

Louis cried out as he was yanked from Joe and thrown to the ground by Walter, violently shaking, as Denise told Walter to continue.

Louis’ adrenaline rush seemed to have faded as Walter grabbed one of his feet, Joe closed his eyes, but Denise had noticed. She grabbed his face, forcing open his eyes, in time for him to see Walter violently twist Louis’ ankle. Louis didn’t seem to have the energy to scream, as he only sobbed harder as his mangled foot and ankle fell to the floor. 

“Am I feeling tears, Mayor?” Denise said with amusement.

She was right. Tears had finally fallen from his eyes, and while he vaguely thought that he should be embarrassed by finally crying in front of her, his potential humiliation was being cancelled out by his desperation to save Louis. “Denise, please, just torture me--”

“Damn, if only you had a heart to stop torturing other people when they begged you to stop,” Corine muttered from where she had been standing, tossing her hair and glaring at Joe. “Then maybe none of us would be in this hellhole. Nobody would’ve been.” 

Joe’s flash of hatred surged towards her. “Neither of us did anything to your sister!” “You knew! You covered it up! You condoned it!”

“Next ankle, Walter,” Denise said, flicking Joe’s tears onto the floor. 

“No--fine, our hideout is in Newmark! I swear on my life that it is--I swear on his life, it’s in the woods--”

“Useful information, but not quite coordinates, Mayor!” Denise said with amusement. “I’m sure you have those coordinates memorized. Carry on, Walter!”

Crack. 

Would the security system in their hideout be enough of a warning for Christian, Julia, and Rozetta to hide or run? Christian would probably try to fight, but could the other two convince him otherwise? 

He couldn’t get all three of them thrown down here, or killed up there. 

I can’t get all of us killed, they need to be alive to save us! 

Louis looked close to fainting, and as awful as it was, maybe he would pass out from the pain, and they would finally leave him alone, stop hurting him, turn Walter onto Joe instead. As odd as it was to wish for Louis to faint, he was too exhausted to scream anymore, if he just lost consciousness, not only would it be a relief from his pain, there wouldn’t be any way to torture him anymore.

Unless they torture him to death--

No, they need him alive to get to me--

“Denise,” Walter said. “At this point, he might lose consciousness if I break any more of his bones. We can have people scour Newmark’s woods, or I can try to work on the mayor.”

“No, Walter, I have one more idea,” Denise said, side-eyeing Joe with a smirk that immediately made his dread increase. “Pull out those pliers for Leroux.”

Upon hearing her words, Louis gasped, his eyes suddenly wide.

Walter removed a pair of bloody-looking pliers from his suit and handed them over to Denise.

It was as if something had been switched in Louis’ brain upon seeing the pliers.

“NO!” he screamed, the volume making Joe jump with how loud, shrill, desperate it was. “No, no, I can’t do that again!”

Louis’ wild, terrified eyes locked onto Joe, Joe confused for a moment what the pliers were for, until his eyes fell onto Louis’ right hand, at his missing fingernails.

“Wait, stop!” Joe said. “Don’t--”

His voice was drained out by Louis’ desperate screaming and pleading. He was violently struggling against Walter, albeit without much success. Walter was sitting on the floor, essentially holding Louis in his lap, one of his arms pinning Louis’ right arm, the one with the missing fingernails, to his side and wrapping around his torso, his other hand holding Louis’ left wrist. 

“You do realize, Louis, that the more you struggle against this, the more likely it is that I won’t correctly rip out your fingernail and will have to do it again, correct?” Denise said, clearly thoroughly enjoying herself as she pushed Louis’ fingers save his thumb closed in one fist, her other hand holding the pliers.

“Denise!” Joe shouted over Louis’ wailing, the sound feeling like it was carving his heart out of his chest. “Stop--it’s in the woods! It’s a few miles from the dome!”

Denise ignored him as Corine approached Louis and his torturers, tying the blindfold that had been initially on Louis when he was brought into the cell, back around his eyes and holding his head still. 

“No--JOE!” Louis shrieked. “JOE! HELP! JOE!”

“Alright!” Joe exclaimed. “Alright, I'll tell you where it is!” The coordinates tumbled from his mouth, sobbing freely and openly now, crying for Louis and what they’d done to him, how he was begging for him, and crying for Rozetta, Julia, and Christian, but he couldn’t sit there in silence as Louis was begging for him, as Louis was forced to relieve a horrific torture that Joe couldn’t imagine the pain of because Joe wasn’t talking, because it was because of Louis that they even knew Denise had betrayed them, because he’s been the only one with the initiative to investigate.

“I knew you could be rational, Mayor,” Denise said mockingly as she released Louis and pocketed the pliers; Louis collapsed, sobbing, onto the ground as Corine and Walter also released him. “You have such a peculiar care for each other…”

Joe wanted to rip through the ropes and rip out her own fingernails, break her own bones, beat her with his chair, do something, but all he was able to do was cry, the pain from his nose making sobbing painful, but at least they’d released Louis, but what had he done to his other friends?

And yet, seeing Denise pocket the pliers had given him the closest he’d felt to relief since awakening in this hellhole. Would his friends understand? Christian wouldn’t, he thought bitterly. 

“Should we take Leroux with us?” Corine asked, gesturing to Louis. “No need,” Denise said. “I have a feeling the mayor was being much more honest with that answer. Let Leroux and Warren stay together. If we need information from the mayor, we know exactly how to get it. No, let them wallow in their misery and think about how much they care about each other. The more they bond over their shared misfortune, the faster we can get information if we ever need it again.”

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Several minutes after Denise and her torturers had left the cell, Louis’ sobs mellowed into sniffing.

Joe had let himself sob once he and Louis were alone, the crushing realization of how much he’d failed and what he’d done strangling him, and, despite how much his nose was hurting, he’d let sobs course through him. He kept thinking that he had just doomed his friends. But they were smart, surely they could figure something out? But he’d just guaranteed a legion of personnel to surprise attack them in the early hours of the morning. But they still had security in their hideout. 

Rozetta might understand. He hoped Julia would. Christian wouldn’t, Christian would be furious, and Joe, logically, could understand why, but even though he’d weakly called Louis’ name and received no acknowledgement from him several times, he couldn’t, in good conscience, go back and let Louis’ nails be torn out in front of him while Louis cried for his help and screamed from the agony that had provided, reliving the pain that had already been inflicted on him days earlier. But the other three members of Ad Astra were their only hope of rescue now.

“Joe,” Louis said hoarsely. 

Surprised, Joe looked up at Louis on the floor, having not expected him to comprehend that Joe was calling his name even after his crying had slightly lessened.

“Joe,” Louis repeated, dragging himself to Joe’s feet, making strangled noises of pain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that, I thought I’d…” His voice trailed off.

“Don’t apologize, I should’ve helped you before she kidnapped you,” Joe said, mentally kicking himself for…overconfidence, he supposed. Him underestimating Denise and thinking they could easily outsmart her had led to this. “I’m sorry they did that to you. I’m not angry that you told you about what you said to me.” He decided it was best not to tell Louis someone had been sent to kill Joe. 

“What they did…Joe, they broke my wrists and ankles. I’m never going to be able to walk, or write, or do anything, again!” Louis’ hyperventilating returned, gasping for air as he trembled violently, looking and sounding like he was about to start crying again. 

“Louis!” Joe said, silently cursing Denise and her torturers out once more. If only he was free, he could at least hold his friend, letting Louis cry onto him as much as he needed, and give him more direct, physical comfort, but the ropes remained as secure as they had been when he had awoken. “Louis, it’s okay, the others will find us.”

“Really?” Louis said morosely. 

“Of course. You know how brilliant Rozetta is. She’ll come up with some great way to save us. She was already coming up with some sort of plan…I just ruined it by going off on my own.”

“Why’d you leave on your own?” 

“I didn’t want to put the other three in danger, plus, Louis…can you really see Christian pulling off some sort of stealth mission?”

Louis gave a wry, dry chuckle. “Not really. He’d probably crash through all the nature around here and alert everyone to his presence.”

“Exactly. But whether through keeping him away or somehow finding some way to keep him quiet and stealthy, Rozetta will figure something out.”

“But you were telling the truth about where they were?”

“...Yeah. But you know our hideout has all sorts of security measures. You can’t just walk into it without setting off a bunch of alarms. You know how seriously Rozetta takes security.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis said miserably, looking down at the floor. “I made you--”

“You didn’t make me do anything.”

“I should’ve just…I didn’t want to die alone here, I was hoping you would help me, but now we’re going to both die, and--and--”

“Louis!” Joe interrupted. “We’re not going to die. Rozetta is a prodigy. Now that realizes her mother has betrayed her, she isn’t going to hold anything back in fighting against her. Rozetta is ruthless and brilliant. There couldn’t be a better person looking out for us.”

“But if she…if Denise catches her off-guard or something…”

“Think of all of the security we have. All the ways to fortify ourselves in there, and escape if we need to.”

“But why…” Louis had been looking at the ground, but he lifted his head to properly look at Joe. “Why’d you even give them up? I was figuring that’s why you were holding out for so long, because you didn’t want to give them up, three of them…for just me.”

And that was the question. Joe would consider himself Machiavellian, and saving three people over one, from a purely utilitarian standpoint, would make sense. 

But he wasn’t utilitarian. 

How could you be, when your plans involved enslaving almost everyone in the world so you and your four other friends could rule over them, even though the sheeple were too stupid to properly govern themselves, and their natural state was being mindless drones, not needing to make any decisions for themselves. 

But that was the thing. Joe had and loved his friends. Sure, he had mild fondness for some of his family, and his deputy mayor was smart and competent enough, but he didn’t love them the way he loved his friends.

The way he especially loved Louis.

Rozetta didn’t want them interacting publicly. They five of them still hung out casually and met to discuss their plans and schemes, but did so carefully, arriving at places sparingly, sometimes outside of Grimsborough if needed (although wearing casual clothing did go a long way in making one unrecognizable, although Rozetta’s blue hair was hard to forget, even if plenty of people didn’t know her or recognize her), and places were scouted out in advance (and having Louis helped dodge reporters from CCN) but with Louis…Joe admitted they met in-person more frequently. Joe talked with Julia on the phone on occasion, but often messaged Louis, wanting to spend time with him, alone. Christian could be…unncessarily rude and aggressive at times, Rozetta could be overbearing at times, and although Julia was a perfectly lovely individual, sometimes Joe just wanted Louis. Louis was an excellent storyteller. His gossip and stories could entertain Joe for hours, watching movies together was quite entertaining as they bounced each others’ comments off of each other.

But beyond that, Joe trusted Louis. How could he not? Louis had the least glamorous job of all five of them, as Christian liked to say to undermine Louis, but Louis knew all of their secrets and used his profession to direct attention from all of them and their schemes. He covered for them. Until the police got involved and Rozetta’s stupid employee that infiltrated that Higher Truth cult blabbed to the police, the entirety of Grimsborough didn’t even know the meteorite was a meteorite. Louis was the connection, the bridge between DreamLife and the public, telling the public only what Rozetta wanted them to know, never questioning any information DreamLife released. It could seem paradoxical to trust a journalist more than anything else, but Louis knew what could and couldn’t be shared. Joe trusted him with many of his own personal problems. Not as much as he wrote in his journal, but still, through time spent privately together. 

“Joe?” 

Louis was looking up at him.

“Because I care about you, Louis. I couldn’t watch them--You’re my best friend. I trust you, I--”

He stopped, choking up. Oh, man. He didn’t know if he should put all of his emotions to words. If he even could. Given his career, he should be able to. But was crying even more worth it right now? They’d both cried enough. And if he was going to tell Louis all his complicated emotions, he didn’t want to do it here, with him stuck in a chair and Louis with several broken bones.

“I’ll tell you everything, go into as much detail as you want, after we’re rescued.”

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